Defiance

I drew in a long, shallow breath. My every muscle clenched. My every nerve stood on end, ready for the tell-tale look in his eyes, twitch of his hand, tightening of fists. The sign that the fight had begun. I held a reinforced wooden shield and that was it. Magic is your sword. Magic is your armour, I recited to myself.

With a grin on his face, Andrew Brawn lunged at me.

In seconds, his fist was ablaze and I could hear his breathing as he came closer and closer. I rolled around him, my shield being pummelled by fire after fire. I slammed my foot into the crook of his knee and he crumpled to the ground. I ran backwards and tried to summon a spell. Before I could even think, he was on me again. HIs shield rammed into my chest and I stumbled. A blade of fire caught my shield again but this time I was prepared.

Crackling, the lightning in my hand met with his face. Screams of agony left his mouth as he fell to the side. Adrenaline coursed through my body. Exhilaration burned my veins. Had I won? That easily?

As if to answer my question, a piercing screech rung through the air. Pain engulfed my body as I tried to crawls away from the insufferable noise. My breaths multiplied, my heart drummed as I writhed, trying to block the sound out. Black spots began to appear in my eyesight. In the corner of my eye, I saw a bleeding Andrew walking slowly towards me. His arm was outstretched and with ever step he took towards me, the sound grew louder and louder.

Desperately, I pulled my shield to my face, and the sound muffled. With my last remaining energy, A wolf like figure stepped out of the nothingness behind him. My summoned. With a threatening growl, it pounced on him, ready to tear him apart. The now-blissful silence allowed me to stand and raise my shield above my head. Andrew kicked and clawed at the being above him, to no avail. I came closer and closer, my shield ready to bludgeon his skull into a pulp.

Triumph battered my nerve into the ground. Come on, there's no way he's getting up now. A burning blast of inferno cast straight through my summoned. A bleeding, scorched Andrew rose from the ground. Fury crackled in his eyes. My heart froze again. My brain shut down. I hesitated, for just a second. Light consumed my vision as the lightening tore towards me. In panic, i tried to call on my exhausted energy stores. I had ran out. Shit! My shield began to lower to protect my body but I was not fast enough. The killing blow came closer and closer, yet, I could do nothing to stop it except scream.

Pain erupted. Deadly energy destroyed me. In slow motion, I collapsed to the ground in defeat. I barely heard the surrender leave my mouth. I think I heard a shout, maybe it was a scream. I don't even know anymore. The world around me slowed down. seconds felt like minutes and minutes like hours. Soon, Andrew returned to my vision. He was breathing heavily. Worry drained the colour from his face. His hands were sweating and clammy. I had seen him so distraught before.

"Oh my Spirits, Are you okay? I am have got something here, just drink it." He pulled my head back and poured a familiar liquid into my mouth. Pure magical energy in its liquid form, what i had smuggled my whole life. The world returned to me suddenly. Any pain dissipated immediately, and the only trace of any injuries was the blood that stained my training outfit. I took in a long, deep breath. When I looked into Andrew's eyes, I saw fear and worry for the first time. He seemed regretful of his actions in anger. Hate blossomed in him, to who, I was not sure.

"How did I do?" I said, smirking. His sweetness evaporated and was quickly replaced by his aloof, masculine persona. I wondered to myself which side to Lord Andrew Brawn was real, and which was the mask.

"Better. You wasted most of your energy in that electricity blast. You could've done that spell far more efficiently! However, it was an incredibly powerful blast for someone of your expertise. The summoned wolf was a good move, but then you hesitated in finishing me off. If that was the battle field, you would've died!"

"Well, can I still have the keys?" I asked. That was the whole reason for this fight. I needed the keys to the stables, definitely to ride the horses, and not to sneak out to the slums through the secret exit there. Nope, I would never do that. What an awful thing to do. Anyway, Andrew said i could have them, if I did well in a fight.

"Fine, but only because that wolf was very well formed. You have been getting better, very rapidly. You are powerful, Amara, and don't you forget it." A genuine smile grew on his face as he threw me the keys.

"Oh, and careful not to get caught when you are sneaking out." he chuckled and turned around, leaving me confused, but amused. I lowered my head to look at the keys. Let's get this deal going.

* * *

Being back in the slums was like being back at home again. Except, this time, I didn't have to hide. I could hold my head high as even those who recognized me could not harm me. Now, the holster for my dagger remained empty; I had all the weapon I needed inside of me. I saw a few in the shadowed alleyways acknowledge me with respectful nod. The best smuggler in Dracur Diven was back in business, for at least a few hours until I had to crawl back to the stifling cleanness of the Nobility.

I knew exactly where my contact was, and where he was waiting for me. This is the most important deal of my life, and the lives of many others as well. The curved streets danced past me as I strode through the streets I had once cowered in. I recognized every building and street corner. Every shadow and blaze of the rising sun was exactly where I had left it. Yet I had changed so much. The emptiness within me felt less empty. The blackness was less powerful now.

Finally, I came to my destination. A bar, just like any other bar, but one crawling with criminals. This place was the closest thing I had to a home for a long time. As I entered, a thousand eyes turned to face me. I ignored them and walked straight to the counter.

"Hey, Mikael. You have anyone for me?" I said, not caring to whisper.

"Ah, Amara! I was wondering when you would come back. You owe me for arranging this, though." Mikael was the man who taught me to smuggle since I was twelve. He is the only person down here I believe I can trust. I wouldn't call him a father but he was there for me when I needed him, and I am grateful for that.

"Thanks, I'll pay you back, don't worry." I sighed and walked into the back of the bar, where my contact was waiting. Surrounded by bodyguards, he was slumped impatiently in a large chair behind a yet larger table. A single candle illuminated a small ring around it, just enough so that I could see his nose and silhouette but not enough so that our identities would be revealed.

"You are the Nykral Smuggler." HIs voice was deep and slightly accented, probably from the western coast.

"Yes."

"I heard rumours that you have been running around up in the Nobility."

"Also, yes."

"And you want to make a deal with me, hmm? A trade? What can a wannabe Lady, smuggling bitch do for me and the other Blackwaters?" The Blackwaters were the largest criminal organization in Golgor, with Dracur Diven being their centre of operations. They had attempted to hire me many times but I had refused all of them.

"I can get you inside the Palace."

For a moment, there was silence. I bet he was intrigued.

"That is... an interesting proposal. What do you want in return? Money? Perhaps an assassination?"

"No, I want you to help me save potentially hundreds of people."

"What, in the Spirits, are you talking about?" He said, signalling something to his bodyguards.

"There are a group of people who were kidnapped as children, forced to work for the Nobility since a young age, forced to have children to continue the program and then killed so that their souls could be harvested and turned into liquid magic so that the Noble can get drunk on it. That's what I am talking about. I want them free."

"I see... I don't think we can help with that." He said.

"Wait! They take children, every year. It hasn't stopped. How would you feel if they took your children? Just fifteen of your soldiers can do the job. Plus, you'll get access to the Lords and Ladies. They are rich clientele, who will e willing to pay hefty prices to get certain jobs done. Think of the advantages!"

A piercing, awful cackle resonated through the room. He rose from his seat, his stature rising above that of his bodyguards.

"I suppose you think you are some kind of hero. We know about these people; we have for years now. Half of our smuggling jobs are protecting potential victims. Breaking them all out though, nah not gonna happen, darlin'."

"I have friends in high places. I can pay you." I was trying desperately to keep my cool. If this guy knew how desperate I was to get those people out, he would rip me to shreds.

"Why do you care so much?" My contact asked, genuine curiosity in his voice. I sighed, exhausted.

"Do you know how my mother died?" I replied, the weight of the memory pressing down on the air around me. The entire room fell into a respectful silence, as was customary when addressing the death of a former employee.

"We don't keep files on employees after they leave the organization. Your mother left twelve years ago. We have no idea." HIs voice was mournful, as if my mother meant something to him.

"She left for me. She realised how much danger I was in and quit. When I was about eleven, she got pregnant again. She became endlessly paranoid someone was trying to steal her baby. Surprise, surprise, once she gave birth, the child was taken and she was found dead. I know where my brother is now. He's in there."

Sympathetic quiet hushed over the room. The bodyguards fumbled around awkwardly. My contact stood there, his shaking visible to the room. I had never felt such fury from a silhouette. I had never understood such an inferno from someone whose eyes where shielded. I did not need to peer through the window of the soul to see, to know him.

"The boy is alive?" his weeping voice was laced with a hope that only someone from the slums could harbour.

"Yes, sir."

"Then you've got yourself a deal. You get to free the slaves, and I get my son back."