Hey Sasscribers,

Here is chapter two of Tempest! Enjoy!

I could see a cobblestone wall not too far ahead. I had made it close enough to the smoke in the sky to know that it was from a chimney, and it was almost directly above me. I slowed to a walk, my breath haggard. The path crossed directly in front of the wall, and I reached out my hand to touch it. It was rough and bumpy, but solid. It stretched out some before cutting into a stone post with a lantern atop it. I traced my fingers along the wall until I reached the post and turned into the town.

Familiar sounds echoed around me; faint conversations, people walking, doors opening and closing. I walked towards the first building I could and examined it. A wooden sign with the word 'Tavern' was hanging above the door. I smiled, smoothing my hands down my dress. I walked up the steps and pushed the door open, immediately enveloped in warmth.

The tavern was filled with people, some old and some young. Men were gathered at tables drinking and engaging in loud conversation. Excessively made-up women were chatting with men off to the side, while older women were spotted throughout the tavern eating. At the end of the room was a man with greying hair and a beard slumped over the bar next to a staircase. I made my way through the cramped tavern to the older man, and began to notice curious looks from the patrons. I wanted to hide myself from their stares, but all I could do was pretend to ignore them.

I reached the man and rested a hand on the bar. He straightened up and rested an arm beside my hand. He knit his brows as he examined me.

"What can I do you for, mage?"

Mage. The word felt familiar.

"I'd like some bread, please." My voice was quiet and polite, despite my throat feeling as if it were filled with dirt. I gave him a weak smile, hoping to distract him from my disheveled appearance.

The man nodded and walked off, leaving me to stand there and wait. I scratched at the matted hair at the nape of my neck and reached to the back of my head. From what I could feel I had a lot of hair, and it felt styled. I dropped my hand as the man returned with bread, and my mouth watered in anticipation.

"That'll be a penny."

My stomach dropped; how could I forget about currency? I patted my dress for any hint of a coin purse but found none. The man stared at me tiredly, waiting for the penny.

"Here. Give her an ale, too." A hand slid coins across the bar and the man handed me my bread before turning to get me an ale. My eyes followed the hand up to the face of a man, and he smiled at me. I smiled back and bit into my bread. I was so grateful I almost wept.

"Thank you," I said, swallowing.

The older man returned and slid the ale across the bar. I hastily grabbed it and sucked it down. It was an unpleasant flavor, but I was so thirsty I couldn’t bring myself to care. I took a deep breath after I’d downed the ale. My face scrunched as the flavor lingered on my tongue. I took another bite of bread to cover it, not wanting to be rude.

The man laughed at my expression as I set the empty cup on the bar. "Not fond of ale, eh?" he asked. He had dark hair and big blue eyes. His dark coat hung over a white shirt and loose pants with muddied shoes. He stared at me expectantly.

I smiled apologetically, shrinking into myself.

"That's alright, not many women are fond of it around here." I nodded in response, taking another bite of bread.

"I've never seen hair that color. Not on anybody so young looking, anyhow."

What? What color is my hair?

"And your eyes..." he said, examining me. "Is this magic, or do you always look like this?"

"I don't think it's magic..." I said, my eyebrows knitting together.

The man laughed. "You've got a sense of humor."

I smiled awkwardly and nibbled on bread, unsure of what to say.

"You look like you've had a rough night."

"I have," I said, sighing.

"You're far too pretty to be covered in mud," he said, leaning closer to me. "I've got a room here, why don't you come up and take a bath?"

He smiled at me and my cheeks heated; I suddenly understood what he was insinuating. I understood what the excessively made-up women were doing. I felt like a child, not realizing his kindness was meant to be repaid with my body.

"Excuse me," another man said. I could not see him, but I knew he was behind the man speaking to me.

The man's eyes widened before he turned to face him. "Lord Julian!"

"Are you trying to bed my mage?" he asked. His tone was light, almost joyful.

"Forgive me, I did not know - "

"Get out of my sight," the lord said, cutting off the man. The man ran away without looking back. The lord took the man's place standing in front of me. He was taller than me, though not significantly; he had olive skin and brown hair, with a deep blue vest over a crisp white shirt and dark brown pants dusting his perfectly neat shoes. Everything about him was lavish.

He stared at me with a hand on his chin, seemingly deep in thought. I was far too uncomfortable to say anything, so I dropped my eyes to the ground.

"You aren't going to thank me for rescuing you from that cretin?" he asked, humor in his tone.

"Right, thank you," I said, meeting his eyes.

"You're quite welcome," he said, pleased. "So, what is it you can do?"

"Pardon?" I asked, puzzled.

"You're a mage. What can you do?"

"Oh, well, a little bit of everything," I rushed.

He smiled. "Beautiful and talented, I'm impressed."

I shifted awkwardly, not meeting his eyes.

"How would you like to come work for me?" he asked.

"Work for you?"

"I'm in the market for a magical advisor," he said, straightening up.

Panic set in; I knew nothing about magic, yet it seemed I was supposed to. "That's a generous offer, but - "

"You'd have your own room in my manor," he interjected. "Fair wages, a chance to live as nobility - in return, you work as my magical advisor."

"What does a magical advisor do?" I asked. I may not know about magic, but I needed somewhere to stay. Desperately.

"Do you not learn that during your time in the academy?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

I cleared my throat. "Everybody's idea is a little different."

He smiled. "Fair enough, though I assume my definition fits the general criteria."

I nodded and gave him a weak smile.

"Your necklace," he said, eyeing it. "You're from the South."

My hand flew to my necklace. Perhaps the gem indicates where I'm from.

"Interesting. I've yet to visit there. You'll have to tell me all about it."

I dropped my eyes for a moment to think of what to say, but when I looked up he was walking away.

"Come along," he called, continuing to walk.

"I haven't said yes!" I said, eyes widening.

He stopped and turned to face me, a sly smile on his face. "I've decided I won't take 'no' for an answer."

I stared at him. What does he mean he won't accept no? Are all lords so childish? I searched my mind for anything about lords, but as expected, I knew nothing.

"Come along mage. I'd hate to have my guards escort you out."

Leaving my bread on the bar, I followed behind him.

~~~

We had walked the short distance from the tavern to the street where he had a carriage waiting for him. It was extravagant; shiny reds blending into dark wood. He held out his hand to help me up and I cautiously took it, gripping my muddied skirt with my other hand so as not to trip. He hopped in and sat across from me, a bright smile on his face. If he noticed my dirty clothes, he didn’t show it.

I stared at my hands as the carriage rode down the street. I was embarrassed at the state of my clothing. Why did he allow me into his lavish carriage when I was coated in filth? Moreover, why was I going with this man? I didn't know the first thing about magic. Frankly, I didn't know much about anything.

I picked at my nails a moment before looking out the window. Small homes dotted the streets, each one seemingly closer together than the last. Most of them had light shining through the windows, and my thoughts wandered to the abandoned home I had stayed in the night before.

I glanced at the lord and realized he'd been staring at me. I quickly averted my gaze, but he took my glance as an invitation to speak.

"You're rather quiet, aren't you?" he asked. He used the same joyful tone he had with the man in the tavern.

I dropped my head and stared at my hands again. "I don't know what to say."

"Were you born with white hair and violet eyes, or is that magic?"

My head snapped up and my eyes widened. White hair and violet eyes? Was that why people had been eyeing me?

"It's...natural," I stammered.

"How interesting," he said, examining me. "I've never met anyone who looks like you."

"Yeah, neither have I," I said, giving him a small smile.

My attempt at humor was weak at best, but the lord laughed regardless. "So, what brings you to Edinbrook?"

"I...needed a change of scenery."

"Ah. Is the South too drab for you?" he asked, smiling.

"Not necessarily. I'd just like some new experiences."

He nodded. "I suppose I can understand that. Especially given current circumstances."

I wanted to ask him what he meant, but he continued talking.

"I think you'll like my manor. It's among the largest in the region." He straightened up and smoothed his vest. "We'll be there shortly."

I nodded, turning my gaze out the window. I watched the edge of town get smaller and smaller the further we went, and before I knew it the loud clop of a horse startled me. I must have fallen asleep on the ride.

I adjusted myself and peered out the window. A tall brick wall surrounded a massive property. An ornate iron gate was centered in the wall and creaked as it lifted open. Once we passed the gate I could see just how large the home was; the grass on either side of the path was perfectly manicured, lined with bright flowers and greenery; the stone path leading from the gate to the front of the home was wide and smooth, ensuring a comfortable ride or stroll; the home itself towered above us with large windows and clean walls. An older man waited beside the front door with a blank expression, his eyes never leaving the carriage.

"This is your home?" I asked, breathless.

"Just wait until you see it in daylight." I could hear the smile in his voice.

We came to a stop and the lord descended the carriage. "How was your trip into town?" the older man asked.

"Quite well. We have a guest, please help her out."

I shifted towards the door as the older man peered inside the carriage. "Oh - hello," he rushed. He paused a moment, eyeing my dirty clothes before extending his hand.

"Thank you," I said quietly, walking down the steps.

"Please, follow me," the man said, following the lord.

I matched my pace to his and followed behind him. The parlor was stunning, with white walls and yellow trim. My boots echoed with each step. I quickly glanced behind me to ensure I wasn’t leaving muddy footprints over his spotless floor. I thought I felt out of place before, but walking through this manor in my state made me feel more animal than human.

"Thank you, Henry," the lord said, nodding at the man. He turned his gaze to me and cocked his head to the side, signaling for me to follow him. We walked in silence, turning down a short hall and walking up a flight of stairs. Servants were working throughout the home, with one small woman at the head of the stairs. Her eyes widened as she looked at me, but she quickly returned to her task. I followed the lord down another hall, and he pushed open a door and led me inside.

"Here is your room," he said.

The walls were a pale brown color with darker brown trim. The wooden floor looked freshly washed, as did the ornate rug centered in the room. A large bed was against the back wall, with a side table and candle situated beside it.

"This is...very generous," I said, my eyes bouncing around the room.

The lord laughed quietly before clearing his throat. "Forgive me, I was so taken with you I forgot to ask you your name."

I stared at him; how could I have forgotten to think of a name? I searched my mind for a name, any name - but my mind was blank.

"Ehhhhhh...Ella!" I stammered. I smiled, hoping it sounded legitimate.

"Ella. Lovely," he said, smiling back. He turned towards the door. "Gemma!"

The small woman I saw on the stairs rushed in. "Yes, milord?"

"This is Ella, our new guest. Please prepare her a bath and something to sleep in."

"Yes, milord," Gemma said, nodding.

The lord turned to face me with a bright smile. "We will speak more in the morning, Ella. Sleep well."

"Thank you," I said. He walked out of the room, leaving me with Gemma.

"Follow me, mistress," she said, scurrying out of the room. She all but refused to make eye contact with me.

I followed her down the hall to a small room. There was a long tub in the center with small tables around it stacked with soaps. A few buckets were pushed against the side wall, and with a small sigh, Gemma turned back towards the door.

"I'll be right back, mistress," she said.

I stood by the door a moment, intending to wait for her; after a few silent minutes, I walked to the small tables, curiosity taking over. I held up a small bottle and inhaled, my senses overwhelmed with a warm scent.

Lavender. Purple flowers.

I smiled, setting it down and picking up another. This time the scent was sweet.

Honey. Honey is my favorite.

I wasn’t sure when I last smelled honey, but the memory was so visceral I could practically taste it.

"My apologies, there's no hot water in here," Gemma said, dragging in a bucket of water.

"Would you like some help?" I asked.

Gemma knit her brows together and eyed me before dumping the water into the tub.

"Do you need help undressing?" she asked, ignoring my question and setting the bucket by the door.

"I don't think so," I said, examining the buttons on my dress. "I may need help with my hair."

Gemma nodded and made her way over to me. I tilted my head up so she could reach it. I felt her tug and pull, and after a moment my hair unraveled and hung limply down my back.

"Thank you," I said, turning to her. She had already rushed out of the room.

I knelt down and unlaced my boots. They took a few tugs before they came off, but when they did I saw the yellow bruises forming along my ankles. I gingerly unraveled my stockings and stood as straight as I could to try and unbutton the front of my dress. Gemma returned and dumped more water in the tub as I struggled, and within seconds she walked over, unbuttoned them all, tugged at the strings on my back, and walked out. I didn't even have a chance to thank her.

I peeled my arms out of the sleeves and pushed the dress down my body, followed by the thin dress underneath. My body, though sore, had no visible bruises or marks.

I cautiously dipped my foot into the tub, watching the steam rise from the water. It stung my skin, but I was too tired to wait. I settled into the tub with a sigh; my limbs melted into the hot water, my aches and pains lessening.

Gemma burst into the room with another bucket of hot water. I instinctively covered my exposed chest with my arms, but she dumped the water over me without looking at me.

"Thank you, Gemma," I said.

"Your night clothes are right here when you're finished, mistress," she said, patting a stool. She walked out and shut the door behind her. I slowly lowered my head under the water and massaged my head with my fingers. I felt the dirt lifting away, and it brought me an almost overwhelming sense of relief. I sat up and wiped my eyes, scouring the tables for a hairbrush. There was a small one to my left, and with a smile, I picked it up and tried pulling it through my hair. It immediately snagged. I reached over and grabbed the bottle of honey-scented soap and rubbed it through my hair, hoping the soap would loosen the knots. I gently brushed the ends of my hair, and I was finally able to see it in my hands; it was white as a sheet. I grabbed more hair and examined it, confused. I understood that it was white, as everybody told me, but seeing it with my own eyes was odd. I hadn’t seen a single person here with white hair.

I pushed the feeling to the back of my mind and brushed my hair. Once I was certain my hair was clean, I moved on to my body. I scrubbed myself furiously, not wanting to leave a speck of dirt behind. When I was satisfied I got out of the tub, grabbing a small towel to pat myself dry with. I pulled on my nightdress and examined the mess I was leaving behind; I truly felt bad, but I knew Gemma would only become more irritated with me if I offered to clean it up.

I quietly walked out of the room and tried to find my way back to my room. The manor was dark, save for a few candles flickering on the wall. I opened the only door left ajar and was relieved to see it was my room. I shut the door behind me and walked to the bed, stopping a moment to wiggle my toes in the rug; it was wonderfully soft under my feet. I tossed my hair over my shoulder to walk around to the side of the bed, but was caught off guard by the mirror on the wall. I made my way over to it, not recognizing the face looking back at me.

The young woman looking back at me had a round face with a pointed chin. Her skin was the same warm shade of brown as on my hands, and she had a thin, round nose and full lips. Her large eyes were a bright shade of purple, and her hair, though wet, was thick and long, and the lightest shade of white I'd ever seen. And on the left side of her face from the top of her cheek to her lip was an angry red scratch.

I blinked a few times; had I always looked like this? Was my appearance a rarity, or was this common from where I'm supposedly from? Where did the scratch come from? Had I had it for a long time, or was it a result of something that happened on that field?

I stared into my eyes. Something in the back of my mind told me my appearance was unnatural. I failed to see the beauty the lord and stranger claimed to see.

I held a hand to the scratch on my cheek and sighed, wishing at the very least the scratch could disappear. The tips of my fingers heated and a bright light flashed over the side of my face, startling me. I dropped my hand and shook it, attempting to shake out the warmth. When I returned to my reflection the scratch was gone. My brows knit together as I traced the place it had been with my fingers; it was smooth and properly colored like the rest of my face.

I stared at my hand. Did I do that?

A bright light slowly appeared atop my open palm, and a wide smile formed on my face.

I can do magic. Mages do magic.

My heart fluttered as I watched the light in my palm. I was overwhelmed with joy, though I wasn’t completely sure why.

I looked back at my reflection with a smile before turning and climbing into the bed. It felt like a cloud in comparison to the corner I'd slept in the night before. I stared at the ceiling, wondering what else I could do. Perhaps this job was a good idea after all. An hour here had already helped me remember a small amount of magic. With more time and practice, maybe I'll be able to remember everything I'm capable of.

With a smile on my face, I rolled onto my side and shut my eyes, allowing sleep to take me.

‘Til next time,