Unbound

This story contains violence, abuse, language, and overall dark themes. Enjoy!

"I'm just looking to join a ship's crew. If you could point me toward any merchants or captains hiring, I'd appreciate it." I raise my voice higher to be heard above the bustling market crowd. I'd come during rush hour on purpose, but the clamor is making it hard to get my questions answered.

"No, I don't know of any crews hiring. Now get lost, brat. You're getting in the way of my paying customers." The stall owner waves a meaty hand at me over the fragrant fruits he's selling that don't quite mask the stench of ale radiating off him. I turn on my heel and stalk away, trying not to let my desperation show. He's the third person I've asked with zero information. I'm going to have to stow away to get off this damn continent, and that's a good way to end up dead.

Dead is better than captured and used as a fuel source for the empire's weapons, which is what'll happen if I stay in Almarune, thanks to my newly awakened magic, but it's still not ideal. Not in the slightest. But at least I got off my parent's farm. If I'd put them or my little brothers in danger because I'm a freak of nature, I'd never be able to forgive myself.

And it would be easy to do. Magic is volatile and unpredictable for new users.

Getting the hell away from my parents and siblings had been part one; easy peasy. Part two, charter a boat off the continent in the port city of Arima, hadn't been so simple. It turns out that chartering a boat isn't cheap, and I've been stuck here, slowly running out of money for two weeks now. I slink into an alley and lean against a wall, ignoring the filth encrusted on the street under me. What am I going to do if I can't join a crew? Join the fledgling rebellion out west? What if I get caught as a magic user before I can make it out of here? Could my parents be looking for me?

"Miss, miss, are you alright?" A quivering voice asks.

I jerk from the wall, tense as a bowstring. Had someone followed me from the fruit stall? My gaze sweeps left, deeper into the crusty alley, revealing nothing. A glance to the right reveals the sunny street, still packed with shoppers. Where had-?

"You look really tired." A little boy, no older than seven, stands before me, covered in a layer of grime only slightly thicker than my own. He meets my gaze and smiles, revealing several missing teeth. I immediately relax.

"That's because I am." I return the boy's smile. "But I'll be alright. How about you? What are you doing out here by yourself?"

He plays with a silver band on his wrist and shuffles his feet for a long moment before replying. "I'm good. I heard you ask Mister Jerrican if there were any ships looking for crew members, right?"

My eyebrows crease. I'd chosen the busiest time of day, and the stall owner most likely to forget my existence for a reason. I don't want to be tracked, just in case I'm somehow discovered accidentally using my new powers. But if random passerby can remember that I'm going around asking questions...

"I didn't mean to eavesdrop, ma'am, it's just that my daddy is looking for a couple extra hands, you see, and I hoped, I mean I thought, that maybe I could help him, you see, and all I want to do is help my daddy-"

"Oh. That's wonderful, and very kind of you. Thank you so much!" I break into the kid's speech, stopping him before he goes into a full-on ramble. I lean down, meeting his startlingly blue eyes. "Where can I meet your father? I'd love to help him."

He takes a deep breath, chewing on his lip for a second. It must've taken a lot for him to approach a random stranger on the street, as young as he is.

"Daddy is probably in a warehouse by the docks." He pauses as my heart sinks. There are dozens of the large, imposing structures walling off the sea from the city, and it'll take ages to search them all to find a random guy looking to hire someone for his ship. "I can take you there, if you want."

"Are you sure? I'd really appreciate it, but if you're not supposed to be with strangers, I could get you in trouble." I'm desperate for this kid's help, but the thought of my parents' reaction if one of my brothers randomly waltzed in with a random passerby stops me from immediately accepting his offer.

"I'll be okay. They asked me to find people to help Daddy, so that's what I'm doing." My eyebrows lift. Who asks a kid to approach strangers? But I guess I can't look a gift horse in the mouth. This could be my ticket to safety.

"Okay. Take me to your dad." The kid peels out of the alley, heading back into the throng of people, moving so fast it's nearly impossible to keep pace.

"You're going to have to slow down, kiddo. I'm going to lose you in the crowd." I call, and he turns, smiling nervously at me, his feet tapping on the cobblestones beneath him with an impatient urgency only little kids can manage.

"Sorry." A sheepish grin. "And my name is Pyn, by the way."

"Good to meet you, Pyn. My name's Raelle." I ruffle his dark hair, ignoring the greasy texture. My hair probably isn't much better. It's been a couple days since I could afford a room at the inn. His smile drops a fraction of an inch before he turns away from me.

"You can hold my hand so we don't lose each other." He offers me his hand, and I take it, brushing the silver bracelet on his wrist. The band is cold as ice.

"How old are you, anyway?" He asks as we cut through the thinning crowd towards the warehouses, a less populated part of town.

"Seventeen. How about you, Pyn?" He peaks over his shoulder at me, and again takes a long time to respond.

"Seven. Daddy says I'm tall for my age. Do you think that's true?" He comes up to my chest.

"You're taller than my brother was at seven. He only came up to here on me then." I gesture to a spot on my abdomen an inch or two lower than Pyn's height.

"How old is your brother?" He asks. I smile despite myself. Kids are kids, and kids always ask questions.

"I have two. One is nine, and the other is five. I think you'd like them." Pyn goes silent again for a second, and the late afternoon sun slips behind the wall of warehouses, casting the street in shadow.

"I like you. You're very nice." He finally says.

"Thank you. I like you, too. You're doing me a huge favor, you know." Pyn's small fingers curl together in my palm.

"I really wanna help my daddy."

"You are! I'm a hard worker, so your dad can rely on me for sure. I'll be one of the best employees he's ever had." At least I will be until we dock anywhere other than this wretched country.

I'd never wanted magic, but receiving the power is random. The religious say magic chooses the worst people, and they deserve the punishment forced upon them by the empire. And there were stories, even in my rural hometown, about the government having ways to find anyone, no matter where you hide, or what you do to mask your abilities, even if you never use them. And anyone found to be sheltering a magic user is executed on the spot.

Pyn asks me another round of questions, and I get caught up in answering them, mostly to distract us both from the weird situation that we're both clearly nervous about. In minutes, the boy knows where I'm from, what my parents do for a living, and my brother's names. In return, he tells me about all his favorite spots in the city, the best place to watch the sunset, and which ships come and go most often.

I tighten my hand around Pyn's. If I get caught in this city, would I be putting him in danger? Is a child's life worth my own safety?

"You know, Pyn, maybe this isn't such a good-" I trail off, finally paying attention to my surroundings instead of being caught up in my thoughts. Pyn hasn't just taken me into the warehouse district. He's brought me to the dead center of it, and the tall, empty buildings are all I can see for what seems like miles. Pyn stops, and his hand trembles in mine.

"I'm so sorry, Raelle. You seem really, really nice, but I-I have to help my daddy, and they said this is the only way." A group of hooded men in black step into the surrounding street, and everything clicks into place with frightening clarity.

Pyn's nervousness. His need to be in the least populated part of the city. He'd said "they" sent him to find people to help his dad. The fucking questions about my family and hometown. He'd played me like a fiddle.

I drop Pyn's too-small hand like it burns, and step away from him, backing away from the hooded men. But my back hits something firm and warm. There's another one behind me. Touching me.

I scream, panicking, and thrust my elbow into the man's side without even turning around. A heartbeat later, several shadow-figures of myself spring up around me, each running in a different direction.

"She's an illusion wielder." One of them says, unimpressed.

Another pulls an orb from his pocket, made of the same silver material as Pyn's bracelet. A glow emits from the orb, and my illusions vanish as my head explodes with pain, and I fall to my knees, clutching my skull.

The men move in unison towards me, and every vibration of their feet on the ground reverberates in my skull like a fell heartbeat, as frantic as the pounding in my chest. I scream again, and I can feel something in my throat tear from the pitch. I stop screaming. A low whine forces its way out of my throat instead.

A drop of my sweat hits the stones beneath me. Then a drop of blood. And I'm not even sure where I'm bleeding from.

"You've done well, Pyn. Your hard work will be rewarded."

"Will you let my daddy go now?" The question sounds so small, so weak, but so hopeful it cuts through my panic like a knife.

"One little girl isn't enough, boy. The deal was that you bring us ten magic users, then we let your father go. You still have nine people to find."

"But he's been in there a whole month already and I-" The man talking to Pyn smacks him, and the sound is the last thing I hear before I lose consciousness.

A drop of icy liquid bounces off my nose, and I burst upright, only to bang my head on the roof of the small metal cage I'm trapped in. It's made of the same silvery material I'd noticed before. Instinctively, I reach for my magic, only to come up empty. I can't feel it. And, yesterday, that would've been a relief. But now I feel cold, empty, and trapped. I lean back against the frigid bars, still forced into a scrunched position with my limited space, and survey the space beyond my cramped cage.

Rows and rows of cages, most of them with at least one person, some of them with two, spread out in a space several hundreds of yards across. The smell of raw sewage and unwashed bodies nearly chokes me, and a glance up reveals another level, also filled with cages. But despite the massive amount of people that must be in this space, it's eerily quiet. There's a shuffle here, a scuttling there, and quiet gasps and moans. No chatter, no substantial amount of motion. No life.

I inhale a sharp breath, instantly regretting it. But I need to think, to calm myself before I panic and somehow make this terrible situation worse. What can I do? Not a lot, but I can at least control my reaction to this situation, and that's what I intend to start with. So no panicking. I could scream for help, but the deafening silence of the chamber leads me to believe that there's a reason for the quiet. Maybe I can...

I grasp the frozen bars of the cage, ignoring the way they suck the heat from my skin, and pull. If I can get one to budge, I might mange to squeeze through and escape. Might. Maybe. Not good enough.

I strain, pulling, pulling, yanking on the bar, trying to feel for even a little give. I'm searching for a sign that this could work, but there's nothing beyond a chill spreading up my arms, through my veins.

"Dammit, Pyn. Dammit." I drop the bars and curl in on myself, touching as little of the metal as possible, shivering, despite the thick humidity that accompanies stagnant spaces cramped with people.

"What did you say?" A gruff older man asks from the cage across from mine. He's so filthy I can't make out any details, besides the fact he's skeleton thin.

"It doesn't matter." I match his quiet tone, but still earn looks of disapproval from the other inhabitants as they lean away from us.

"It does when you say my son's name like that." My eyes close, and I let out a joyless laugh that borders on sounding as unhinged as I feel. Pyn took me to his father, after all.

"Congratulations on raising a perfect lapdog for the empire. He keeps going, and they might keep their word to him and let you out."

"Tell me he didn't believe them. Tell me they don't have my baby boy out there hunting magic users." There's a fear in the man's voice that I only heard once before, when I told my mother I channeled magic.

"So you want me to lie, then?" The man's eyes close, and he inhales sharply. There's a long pause that reminds me painfully of the child who destroyed everything.

"Avoid touching the bars, as much as you can. They're made of a metal that drains your magic and will slowly kill you."

"And why should I believe that?" My voice is harsh, even to my own ears.

"Because you can feel the chill left behind when your power fades." That explains the cold. "I'm sorry my son put you here. His heart is in the right place, he's just-" A guard appears out of nowhere, stabs a hook through the bars of Pyn's father's cage, and yanks him against the walls.

"Silence. Batteries don't speak." Another hook grabs me and does the same, forcing most of my body against the frigid metal. It's so cold it burns. And every second that goes by leaves me feeling more exhausted.

"Keep your fucking mouths shut." He holds me there for what feels like an eternity. And when he leaves, I do as he asked. I keep my mouth shut. And I stop trying to test the bars. It's pointless.

And my brothers, my parents, could be here as soon as tomorrow. Because I couldn't keep my mouth shut.

A week goes by in silence. They don't take me out of the cage. They don't let me stretch my arms, stretch my legs. I eat in the same position I sleep in. My muscles cramp, burning with a different intensity than the draining metal. And all I can think about is that stupid kid. How could he do this? How could we live in a world that would force a child to make that kind of decision? And is my family facing a similar fate because I mentioned them to Pyn? Do I somehow deserve this?

A crash shatters the silence, and I'm one of only a few prisoners who even bothers to look up. Sunlight, real, golden sunlight, pours through a gaping hole in the wall where a legion of people, dressed in regular civilian clothes, rush into this hellhole. Still, very few people look up.

"Break open the cages, but be careful not to touch the magisite. It'll have you like the prisoners in no time." A woman calls, raising her voice to be heard over the sound of the intruders scuffling with the guards. Something that feels like hope once did sparks in my chest, filling my lungs. Maybe this is the rebellion I'd heard whispers of. Maybe this is one last grand hallucination before I die.

The woman who'd spoken smacks the lock on my cage, and the door swings open. Tentatively, I stretch my legs for the first time in a week, testing my weight on feet that suddenly feel unsteady. I'm not alone in stepping out, but most stay stationary in their cages, too weak to move. Pyn's father is among those. He catches my arm in a filthy, grim-covered hand.

"Please. Please help my son. I know he wronged you, but-but he's just a boy."

I lift my eyes to the golden light, a promise of a second chance.

"I'll see what I can do."