1: The death of the ‘Bloodless witch’

"Do you admit your crimes?" The head mage asked as he stared down at me with a face full of triumph. His thin lips twisted up into a satisfied smirk seeing me chained to the floor.

I wanted to strangle him. if I wasn't restrained I would launch myself at him and unleash all my fury at his pathetic face.

"Do you admit yours?" I asked through gritted teeth.

I would not bow my head to him, not even a little bit. I wouldn't give that horrible person the satisfaction.

He scowled down at me but clenched his fists nervously. Despite his fiery attitude and the fact that I was in chains, he was still cautious of my power that I had proved far surpassed his on many occasions. The only reason he was still the head mage instead of me was because he had the family backing to secure his fraudulent position.

I grinned up at him to let him know that I had seen him flinch.

He slammed his hand down on the podium.

"Silence!" He screamed and sent a bolt of red hot energy towards me.

The wave of magic felt like a thousand red hot needles were being shot through me. I couldn't hold back my pained screams. Blood splattered out of my mouth as I shrieked.

They had poisoned my wine with Grimbell before going through with this ridiculous trial. Grimbell would have been fatal to anyone else, but for me who had advanced my magic core much farther than anyone else, the effects were devastating but not lethal. I would recover and regain my power with enough time, but for now I was left defenceless against their onslaught.

At least they were smart enough to weaken me before treating me like this. If they had not poisoned me I would have killed them all already.

One of the members of the board walked up to the podium with the verdict in his hands. His long grey beard and embellished mage cloak were all just for show. He was just some old noble who bought the prestige with his family's money.

"With this I conclude the trial of Jane Devoe. Also known as the 'Bloodless witch'..." He said confidently enough to make me wonder if he actually believed that a fair trial had taken place.

I snickered at the rude little nickname I had been given by the public.

'Bloodless witch'

I was called a witch because I was a female mage, a very much disliked mage at that. But I was called 'bloodless' because I was an orphaned commoner. Any blood that ran through my veins was the filthy blood of some unimportant unknown lineage, and yet it was blood strong enough to make them all inferior to me in terms of magic.

The name was meant to insult me, but I had grown to like it after a while because it reminded me that things like prestige didn't matter in the face of talent and hard work. Of course, the situation I was in begged to differ.

"On the charge of illegally practicing black magic in a kingdom blessed by God, you are found guilty." The old bearded man read the ridiculous judgement out while shaking his head. As if my crimes truly disheartened him.

"The very act of delving into the blasphemous dark arts it a crime against the nation. Therefore you are by default found guilty of high treason." He said.

I would have laughed if my throat wasn't clogged with blood. These treacherous fiends were the ones who suggested I studied the dark arts in hopes of me developing new weapons for the kingdom. The whole thing had been a setup to cast me down as a criminal.

The head mage sent two more waves of attack magic down at me after seeing me glower at the board of mages. The magic ripped through my body more terribly than the first and sent me crashing down to the floor.

My chest heaved up and down trying to get enough air through my passageways to keep me breathing. The rest of my body felt disturbingly solid and out of my control, I was like a limp vegetable splayed out on a chopping board. Warm liquid trickled down my earlobes and down my cheeks. The dosage of Grimbell they used must have been monstrously high to incapacitate me like this.

I scanned through the audience and for a moment my eyes met with Jesabelle's but her face crumpled up in distress and she quickly averted her gaze. My already pained chest ached just a little more knowing that my best friend wouldn't even try to help. She was there when the head mage asked me to do research on the dark arts. If she spoke out now, the board would struggle to refute her testimony, but she remained quiet in the back of the hall.

I looked around again at the people who had been my colleagues and confidants for years. I searched for the students who I had personally trained and handpicked to be apart of the mage society, but I was met with silence.

As usual, no one would lift a finger to help me.

The old board member continued his verdict in his droll tone. "In consideration for your achievements and the work you have done for the society, we grant you a chance to atone for your crimes by admitting your abuse of the dark arts in a written statement addressed to the King."

The board of mages were going to use my written confession to prove to the King that I was in fact guilty. They didn't have sufficient proof so they were trying to make me confess. They had all gone senile if they thought I would do such a thing.

"In addition, you will have to wear a slave collar for the remainder of your life which will be controlled by the royal family."

Hatred burned within me at the verdict. A slave collar was a sadistic practice that had been outlawed for centuries by most kingdoms. The collar made the wearer unable to disobey the contracted master. It was the ultimate form of oppression. And they were going to use it on me to make me a dog of the king.

Yes, I was too useful to get rid of so they came up with this plot to make me subservient to them.

At first I thought that just the mage society was behind this setup, but it was the royal family as well. This kingdom was absolutely rotten to the core… all my years of work to better it were for nothing.

"Do you agree to the terms?" The board member asked.

I was unable to talk because of the Grimbell and the three magic attacks by the head mage. Only my fingers had any kind of sensation left in them.

This was probably also part of their plan. They made me so weak that I could not reject their proposal.

"Jane Devoe remains silent. Thefore she agrees to the terms. Bring forth the slave collar." He commanded.

I had to act quickly or else I would end up the dog of the wretched royal family. I managed to dip my finger into the pool of blood around me and draw the ancient magic circle I saw in the dark arts book onto my hand.

The book had not been translated yet but the ancient language words I recognised that described the circle could be loosely translated as 'second chance'.

It was the vaguest of vague descriptions so I didn't not know what the magic circle would do, but it was the only alternative I had to becoming a slave.

In the ancient texts, magic circles were written with two bodies of writing. The first was a description of what the magical circle did. The next body of writing was the price of said magic circle, what the mage needed to sacrifice in order to make the circle work. For the dark arts it wasn't uncommon to sacrifice some kind of animal or have special ingredients as the price for the effect of the magic circle.

I read the words for 'second chance' under the description when I was studying this circle. Unlike most other dark magic circles, this circle only had one easily identifiable word under the price section. 'Death'. The price for this circle was death.

I would rather die on my own terms than live as a slave for these evil people.

The circle on my palm burned into my flesh as the magic that I had summoned forth surged through me. I did not know what would happen but I knew it had to be better than this wretched life where I had trusted the wrong people. If this magic really did conjure me a second chance then I would use it to get my revenge.

I felt the dark magic travel up my arms and flow through my veins leaving a cursed black pattern on my skin.

I chuckled as the board members above me panicked as they saw this.

"She's done something!" A person yelled. "The witch is using her power." Some shrieked. "It's a curse." They cried.

My chuckles throbbed in my throat as the dark magic slithered to my heart and wrapped around it like a creeper vine.

"I'll ruin you all." I said as the magic clamped down on my heart and squeezed the life out of me. It mercilessly took the price for the conjuring of the circle.

I like to think my corpse died smiling while listening to the panicked screams of the people who had betrayed me. They knew that I always kept my word.