So the Story Goes

"Are you coming tonight?"

Lys looked up to see Thea's round, smiling face poking in through her tent's flap. "No, I think I'll just stay here. Have a quiet night in, you know."

The smile disappeared. "What? I mean, I know I asked, but I was kidding! I didn't think you really wouldn't go."

Lys gave her dearest friend a quizzical look. "Why are you so surprised? I've been talking about this for ages."

"Well, yes, but it's one thing to talk, and another, much huger thing to just not go to the ritual we've been preparing for our whole lives! And besides, you know I don't understand all that stuff about changing the narrative or whatever it is you think you’re doing."

"Give yourself some credit, Thea. You understand more than anybody else here."

"Well, maybe that's just because I'm around you all the time."

"Nope. Nuh-uh. You don't get to put yourself down like that. You're a lot smarter than you think."

Thea huffed in frustration. "But that's the thing, Lys! I'm not. I'm not smart like you, or powerful like the Dominae. This is all I'm good for, but I am good at it. Really good, actually. And even if you don't want to get chosen, even if you think you're better than the rest of us, I thought you'd at least come to support me, but I guess I was wrong." Lys just stared at her, dumbstruck. "And it's not like they would choose you anyway!"

With that, Thea spun around and stormed out of the tent. Lys was left staring after her, fumbling helplessly for words that would not come long after the tent flap had fallen shut. Finally, she just sighed, curled up on her cot, and pulled the threadbare blanket over her head. She didn't bother trying to cover her ears, though; she knew from experience that the unearthly sounds of the summoning ritual could not be blocked out.

After about an hour, the whooshing and bellowing died down at last. For a few minutes, all was silent, and then came the footsteps and hushed voices of the younger girls as they trickled out of the woods and made their way to their tents, no doubt terribly bitter at being cast out before the most exciting part, when the older girls went down into the caves to prepare the lucky girl who had been selected.

Heaving herself out of bed, Lys sighed heavily. She'd been like that, too, once. Wishing desperately that she were old enough to stay and help, then to be chosen herself. But when that day had finally come, and she and Thea had lovingly braided that older girl's long, dark hair and whispered reassuring words in her ear before sending her out to her fate, Lys had wanted to know more, and no one would tell her. So, a couple of weeks later, she’d snuck out of camp and into a nearby town, where the marketplace was abuzz with the news of a heroic rescue that had taken place in a neighboring kingdom. The tales she’d heard that day, of a maiden left chained to a tree, guarded by an awful, serpentine creature that belonged in the depths of the underworld, with only her thick, flowing hair to shield her from the elements, waiting without food or water or anything for days and days… they still gave her nightmares sometimes. The ending—when some warrior brute came along to slay the beast and cart the girl off to some distant town, where she’d spend the rest of her days washing his clothes and bearing his children—was hardly much better. And there were other stories, too, older ones, of girls kidnapped by dragons, or locked in towers, or sacrificed to wrathful sea monsters. Lys shivered just thinking about it all.

Right now, however, there were more important things to occupy her thoughts. Namely, how she was going to apologize to Thea. Sticking her head outside, she spotted a pair of girls emerging from the trees nearby. She didn't know their names, but they looked to be eleven or twelve. One was short and slim, with long, wavy brown hair, the other taller and slightly stocky, her hair just as long but black and smooth as the space between the stars.

"Hey," Lys called, flagging them down. "Do you know who got picked?" Thea would likely stay longer if it was one of her friends, so hopefully the magic had chosen someone she didn’t know.

The two girls looked at each other as if sharing a private joke. It wasn't exactly private, though—Lys knew what the others thought of her. Normally it didn't bother her, but right now, as the silence stretched on uncomfortably, she did wish they treated her like anybody else. If only so they'd hurry up and answer her question.

Finally, the shorter one piped up. "It's that girl with the beautiful hair that's always with you for some reason. Thelia or something."

Lys froze. Surely she'd misheard. "Thea?" she asked. "They chose Thea?"

Both girls nodded. One of them said something else, but Lys wasn't listening anymore.

Thea. Oh, gods. What were they doing to Thea?

No. No. She could still put a stop to this.

And suddenly she was running, her feet pounding over dirt and grass and leaves, a one-word refrain echoing in her head. No. No. No.

Not Thea. They couldn't have Thea. She wouldn't let them.

Lys flew through the trees, dodging trunks and branches as best she could, but it was dark, and the moon was almost gone, and—BAM. Her shin slammed into a fallen log, and she tumbled headfirst to the ground.

Cursing loudly and foully, she struggled to her feet. This wasn't working. She needed light.

Now fully upright, she traced a symbol in the air and uttered the words she'd practiced for so long in secret. At first she thought it hadn't worked, but then—

A ball of light the size of an apple blossomed in her hand, and she could see.

But there was no time to celebrate this hard-won victory, not now, even if it was the payoff to years of covert study and practice. Almost immediately she was running again, sprinting headlong for the caves, for Thea. They were probably braiding her hair right now, just like the two of them had done for—

No. She couldn't think about that right now, or she'd fall apart. And she couldn't fall apart until Thea was safe.

Breaking through the last of the trees, she emerged in the clearing where the summoning had taken place and skidded to a halt, shoving her hand and the light it held behind her back.

The clearing itself was nothing impressive, just a circle of dirt with a few levels of broad steps descending downward towards the center, the soil held in place by wooden supports. It couldn't hold a candle to a proper amphitheatre, much less the massive stone ones she'd heard were built in the great cities.

At its center, though, was something those great cities, for all their might, could never hope to match. Three women in light, flowing robes, their faces obscured by the shadows of twilight, held hands in that innermost circle. These were the Dominae, the powerful sorceresses who had taken in Lys and Thea and all the other girls and raised them since infancy. And above them, tendrils of pure light in every color imaginable leapt and writhed and billowed, tangling in a cloud that was slowly picked apart by six deft hands and woven into something that hurt to look at.

Lys had been to the summoning every year—except this one—for as long as she could remember, and she'd always thought its shining lights and otherworldly noises to be the most impressive display of magic she'd ever seen, but this? This was something else entirely. There were no sigils, no chanting, no signs of the magic she'd come to know and struggled so hard to master, and when she looked at that, that thing being woven in the center…

Her head swam, and images flashed before her eyes, too fast to make out but leaving a sense of terror in their wake.

Luckily, they didn't seem to have seen her. Lys backed slowly towards the trees, hoping she could use its cover to make her way to the other side of the clearing, where another dirt path led down to the beach and the entrance of the cave system. Reaching the edge of the underbrush, she turned to run, only to spin back around at the sound of a low, dark laugh echoing from behind her.

"Oh, Lys," said three voices at once, creating a strange, harmonic sound that she knew all too well. "Did you really think we wouldn't notice you? As if we could miss the crashing footsteps, the heavy breathing. That pathetic speck of light you call a spell."

As the last word fell from the lips of the Dominae, Lys's light blinked out, and the darkness seemed to tighten around her, as if something outside her own fear now kept her rooted in place.

"How– how did you do that?" Lys gasped. "How are you doing any of this?"

Another laugh, this one lighter, mocking. "And to think we once cherished such high hopes for you. You were always such a talented girl, more even than Thea. Perhaps more than any of our students. You could have been our greatest success, but instead you spit in our faces. Betray our years of kindness, of generosity, of love, and for what? A pretty face that will never be yours?"

For a moment, the light formed itself into Thea's face, and Lys cried out.

"Foolish girl. Our power is far greater than the paltry, mortal magic we allow you to see, and even we cannot alter the patterns of fate, merely summon them forth. For you, for her, there has only ever been and will only ever be one story. You know it well by now—the maiden, the beast, the shining hero."

Summoning every scrap of defiance that remained in her, Lys shouted back, "Yeah? Because I am done playing any part you write for me, and there is nothing, nothing, that you can do to make me into one of your precious, perfect damsels."

This time, the Dominae's chuckle was quiet, and it sent a shock of cold through Lys's bones. "Oh, we doubt that, child. But you misunderstand. You have strayed too far from the path, and missed your chance. Look at you now! You hunch, you scowl. Your clothes are ragged, your body filthy, your face pinched and ugly."

While they spoke, their hands were moving, and a spear of light shot from the web above them.

"You look like a monster."

The light struck Lys, and she screamed. It was as if she were aflame, but it was nothing like the time when she was seven and burned her hand. This felt deeper, somehow, as if not just her flesh but her soul was burning, burning, burning, being drawn into the net that the Dominae had so skillfully woven, being forged into something new. She felt more than heard her cries cut off as her throat closed up, felt her skin split open, her bones shatter and reform.

As the light began to fade, the Dominae spoke again. "In a way, this is what you wanted. A chance to save Thea from those who would take her, use her, and lock her away. It is too bad, really, that you will fail in the end."