Asborn: pt. 2

         “What do you mean, she wasn’t affected?” The Arch Mage of the High Guard stroked his chin thoughtfully. “That’s impossible. There hasn’t been an Immune for five hundred years.”
         “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m telling you, she wasn’t affected by my magic. We had to get her by pure force.” Arley Nadir leaned back in her chair tiredly. She had told the story over and over, but Deke Moraal wouldn’t listen to reason this time. He was being uncommonly temperamental lately. Usually the older man was calm and tranquil
         “It just doesn’t make sense. Suddenly an Immune just appears out of nowhere after half a century? Who is this girl, anyway?”
         “We don’t have much information on her, sir. Her name is Braelyn Marfuego. She’s the captain of Lyjna’s Phoenix Knights, their elite squad. She’s two years younger than me, sir, if that gives you a measure of her abilities. Our spies picked up a rumor that she’s the Emperor’s successor if anything were to happen to him, although there’s nothing concrete behind it.”
         “That’s it? We have spies that are infiltrating the highest orders of the Lyjna and that’s all they bring back for us?” demanded Moraal, his voice betraying just a touch of anger.
         “Sir, she’s very secretive. She doesn’t have many friends except for her brother, and he’s the strong, silent type. Most of the Lyjna don’t even like her, but they certainly respect her. They won’t talk to anyone about her behind her back, even under magical persuasion. We’re lucky we even got her with as many men as we had!”
         “Hmph. I do hope His Highness lets me have a shot at her before his interrogators ruin her.” The mage was incredibly calm, but his dark eyes shone brightly.
         Arley nodded slowly. “I’ve already arranged it, sir. You have an hour with her at your earliest convenience.”
         Deke’s eyes widened, and he laughed. “Always one step ahead, aren’t you, my dear?” He held out a hand and helped his charge out of her chair. “Come on then, let’s not keep this Knight waiting. She may get too comfortable.”
         “Yes, sir.”
         The two mages disappeared silently.



         Braelyn was already comfortable. She had been in far worse cells than the one the king’s guard had thrown her in. This one had a barred window, and was moderately large. Lounging on the cot, she hummed a Lyjna battle song softly. On the outside she seemed completely relaxed, but her mind was racing. Running through every possible scenario, every possible error that could occur.
         The outcome of this war could depend on the completion of her mission. Ten years of fighting could be resolved in one short moment. The Empire of the Lyjna spanned four small countries and Paluge was the first large country it had tried to conquer. No one was quite sure how the emperor, Raynor, had assembled such a large force so quickly, but the first two countries were in his control within weeks. The other two followed in the next five years.
         Braelyn grimaced. Both the Empire and Paluge were suffering greatly from the war. People were starving in the streets, murdering, stealing, dying. If only Paluge’s king had not been so stubborn. Her emperor would have let him live. Perhaps. She shook her head roughly. It didn’t matter, anyway. The Empire would wear Paluge down, and when they took it no one would be able to stand against them. Then on to Enap, another large country nearby.
         The door suddenly cracked open, and she jerked in surprise. Light poured in from the hallway as her guard thrust his head in. He announced that she had visitors, then disappeared from sight again. Seconds later, her “visitors” entered. One was a tall and lanky old man. He brushed back his graying hair and raked his eyes over Braelyn appraisingly.
         The second was a girl about Braelyn’s age, maybe older, who also examined her critically. The girl was beautiful in every way, her eyes gray and bright, and her face smooth and honest. If Braelyn had cared about appearance, she would certainly have been jealous. Both were dressed in spotless white robes that had the symbol of the High Guard on the left, over their hearts.
         “Braelyn Marfuego?” The man held out a hand to her. “My name is Deke Moraal.”
         Braelyn glanced at his hand disdainfully and didn’t move. “I know who you are.”
         “Oh. . . Right.” Deke pulled his hand back and shifted uncomfortably. “This is my apprentice, Arley Nadir.” Braelyn regarded her with something that resembled interest and then looked at the ceiling. “You’re a captain, correct?” He broke the silence cautiously. “Of the Phoenix Knights?” She said nothing, but continued staring at the ceiling as though it was the most interesting thing in the world.
         Finally, Arley spoke. “How old were you when your parents died in the fire?”
         Braelyn’s head snapped down and she glared at the other girl. “I would shut my mouth about that if I were you.”
         Arley ignored her and continued, a small smile on her face. “So that’s what, eight? Nine? How terrible for you. What did you tell everyone? That it was an accident?”
         “I said, shut up!” Braelyn leapt to her feet and looked down at the smaller girl. Arley didn’t budge.
         “You think I’m afraid of you? I’m a mage! I can kill you in twenty different ways without moving.” Arley grimaced as her master gave her a meaningful look from across the room.
         The bigger girl grabbed her by the throat without warning and shoved her against the wall. “And I can kill you five hundred different ways while moving. Which is better?” she growled, and pushed Arley harder. The mage scrabbled at her throat, trying desperately to relieve the pressure.
         “Enough!” shouted Deke. He threw a hand at the two girls, but nothing happened. He looked down at his hand in surprise and tried again. Arley watched his face scrunch up as he concentrated, and then let out a small whimper as her throat began to cave in. Black spots appeared in her vision and she could feel herself slipping into unconsciousness. Then suddenly her vision cleared and the pressure was gone. She fell to the floor gagging and holding her neck. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Braelyn pinned on the floor by four of the guards.
         Her master stood watching silently, his eyes wide with shock. Eventually he shook his head, strode over, and helped her onto her feet. The Knight was struggling, biting and kicking, anything she could do to get the guards off. She grunted with effort as her eyes locked on Arley, glowing with hatred.
         Arley moved to her and then kicked her in the side, hard. “You pathetic piece of-”
         “Arley!” snapped the Arch Mage as Braelyn fought with a frenzy. “Control yourself!”
         For a moment she looked as if she might attack him as well, but she held a hand to her head instead. “I’m sorry, Master. I. . .didn’t mean to. . .” she said softly, her eyes showing deep regret.
         “What have I told you about controlling your emotions? If you let them get out of hand they will control you. That is what separates us from dark magic. Do you understand me?”
         Arley bowed slightly. “Yes, Master. It won’t happen again.”
         “See that it doesn’t.” Moraal turned his attention to the prisoner still fighting on the floor. “Can’t you restrain her?”
         “We’re trying, sir,” panted one of the guards as he pulled a knife from his belt. He raised it and brought the hilt smashing down on Braelyn’s head. She slumped immediately.
         Moraal watched as they heaved the unconscious Knight onto the cot. “She wasn’t affected, not even by me.” It didn’t make sense. An Immune? And a Lyjna at that? He rubbed his eyes tiredly. This was not going to be easy to explain to the Circle.