Chapter 7 | PoV: Sanya
Sanya's eyes adjusted to the dimly lit building. The room she and the other two mages stood in commented to other rooms via doorways, some closed. She could hear footsteps beyond them. They were not alone.
How many people were here, exactly? What were these other people like? Scary men? A family? Other teenagers like Sanya?
Whatever.
Sanya turned her attention to her escort. She tilted her head, but said nothing. A long silence followed. Her escort studied her. What were his eyes searching for? . . .
The escort mage sighed. “Are you mute? Slow in the head—stupid?”
Sanya averted her gaze, she stared at the mage's boots instead. She just got here, and she was already being belittled? Ugh.
I guess that was to be expected. Everyone calls me stupid or worthless for one reason or another eventually. It's not like this one was in record time or anything.
“Be nice,” the other mage said. “We don't want . . . erm . . . we don't want them running off, yeah?”
Sanya opened her mouth. Then closed it again. One, the mage had a weird pause, as if trying to discern Sanya's gender, especially with what followed the repeated words. She got that a lot. The default to gender-neutral was a good sign, at least.
Why did they not want her running off? Was she . . . an asset? Was she useful, potentially?
The second mage peered around Sanya, noticing her tied hands. “Ah! Turn around for a moment, would you?”
Sanya turned around. What was an aeolian mage going to do about her—
He waved his staff. “[Gale Guillotine].”
A force of wind brushed down at Sanya's back, a great force that nearly knocked her off the ground. The chains loosened around her wrists and promptly clattered to the floor.
“Better!” The second mage cheered. “You can turn around now.”
Sanya obliged. She admitted to shaking, could the mage have cut Sanya open with that spell? He had cast it on a target right between her hands . . . Sanya shuddered.
The second mage continued. “Where were we? Ah—one other abyssal mage would do wonders, especially with such perfect circumstances as yourself. We need as many as we can get.”
What did he mean by “perfect circumstances?” Or “as many as we can get?” “abyssal mage?” Is that what they decided to call them all? That wasn't as simple as some word pertaining to darkness. This had the implication of something more, didn't it?
Maybe Sanya just wanted other implications. She had seen and felt things with that spell, it had to be greater than light or dark.
“Talking to you will be difficult if you can't speak. Shall I elaborate on everything I've said?”
Sanya nodded.
“Hmm,” the second mage said. “Can you offer your name? I'm Barakat. Your kin here is N—”
“You don't have to divulge that,” the escort mage held up a hand.
What was his reason for that? Oh, Sanya was going with the thought that her escort mage was a guy too. Did they think Sanya would run away and compromise this mage? Too paranoid or trying to keep it safe? Or perhaps arrogant?
Also, kin? That implied they were the same type of mage. That meant Sanya could do that weird thing with the people disappearing and the shadow monsters, right!?
“Ah, but they need something to call you!”
“You can call me . . .” The escort mage paused. “Fine. It is Nur.”
Barakat gestured to himself. “Barakat.” Then gestured to Nur. “Nur.” He then pointed to Sanya.
Sanya groaned. “I'm not stupid.” It came out in a whisper. “Well. Not in that way.”
“I see,” Barakat said, posture going straighter.
“Don't treat me like an uneducated toddler.” Still a whisper.
“So you can communicate!” Barakat exclaimed.
Sanya shook her head. “I'd rather not.”
She couldn't let them hear her voice. She couldn't. It would destroy everything.
“Care to share your name?”
“Sanya,” she whispered. There. She said it. Almost to herself as much as Barakat and Nur.
“Sanya,” Barakat seemed to consider something. “A feminine name . . . I see! Is that right?”
Sanya gave a shallow nod. Heliux, Barakat saw right through her already, didn't he?
“Well, Sanya, let us get to the heart of the matter now,” Barakat glanced at Nur.
Nur scowled at Barakat, but spoke. “Abyssal mages are sprouting up, as you know. Our magic is . . . an interesting one. Unique. I have found it to be particularly advantageous to . . . gather as many as I can into one location.”
What kind of location? Advantageous to whom? How was their magic unique?
“You can be more direct, Nur,” Barakat said, then looked towards Sanya. “He likes doing this for some reason, sorry.” He shrugged.
“You are of particular interest, because you're unhoused. You have no familial connections. Nobody knows you. You can disappear and no one would care. It is best that this is all a secret, for now.”
Sanya blinked. She took a step back toward the door.
“Oh!” Barakat said. “He doesn't mean to sound so sinister! Heliux curse you, Nur! He wants to build an academy!”
Sanya raised an eyebrow.
“We want to teach abyssal mages, all in one place! To develop camaraderie! To help you all reach your potential! All while hidden from larger society—you will be even stronger when any potential enemies don't know of your existence!”
“So . . .” Sanya whispered still. “You want to turn me into a weapon?”
“None of that sort! We want to give you the potential to be a weapon—if you want. Erm, but that's not what we want.” Barakat exchanged a look with Nur.
Nur nodded. “We will be researching alongside our teachings and your learnings. This will be an investment in hopes we can . . . shake up trade, a little bit, to find a new niche and profit.”
Sanya blinked. This was about money?
“You will have food, shelter, and comfort,” Nur said. “All you have to do is learn.”
This was way too good to be true. Right? She was really gonna be whisked away, trafficked somewhere?
Wait, why didn't they do that yet, then? Knock her out? Chain her up? It did not seem sinister.
How would she even become an investment? A tool with which to make money? Blinding people did not seem useful for trade at all. If intimidation tactics were necessary for deals, any of the other mage types could cover that.
She had nothing left to lose. They knew that. They did not need coercion because perhaps they already knew she'd accept.
She was a mage. She had power. They wouldn't send her off somewhere she could escape from. Like temporal mages, she didn't have the same physical presence with her magic like thermal or aeolian mages, but it was still a tool that could hurt people that wanted to abuse her.
“What say you?” Nur asked. “Do you need anything more?”
“You have until tonight. Our caravan leaves for the academy then. We have a handful more abyssal mage admissions, if you want to meet them!” Barakat said.
“Meet them?” Sanya echoed.
Barakat smiled. “Let's go meet them then!”
Oh—wait—Sanya wasn't saying—
Barakat took Sanya's hand and turned, heading towards a door on the back left side of this room. Barakat and Sanya navigated around a low-sitting table in the middle of the room, a stone couch sitting opposite of it. A carafe filled with water rested on the table. Empty bookshelves dotted the walls. A rectangle of lighter flooring under the table and couch hinted at the presence of a rug once. Instead, bare tiles lay exposed.
The room had the distinct air it had been something once, but everything was in the process of being moved—but only the necessities.
It really did feel like some big decision had taken place, this, its shadow. An air of anticipation and a little bit more thrummed through the building.
Or that was Sanya, being incredibly nervous to meet new people.
She wasn't good with people.
She hadn't been good enough for her parents.
Which meant these others would hate her in sight. They'd probably lunge to tear her to pieces—
Calm down.
Barakat hovered a hand on the doorknob. “We do not have to do this if you don't want to. I bet it would be good to be acquainted with your new peers sooner rather than later, though.”
Sanya nodded.
Barakat opened the door.