Young Writers Society

a/n: hey, thanks for checking out Starry Veins! This is the novel I wrote for Round V of LMS, and it's still a first draft! While I don't discourage any feedback, I prefer not to receive feedback on grammar! I'm not polishing this draft up yet, so I'm not as concerned about editing. I am, of course, open to all feedback, but I ask that you keep this in consideration! Thanks <3

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[Rowan]

A thin sheen of sweat had begun to coat Rowan’s skin by the time they had bent a flat, small sheet of copper into a partial bowl shape. They let out a heavy exhale, never looking away from the glint of metal on the worktable in front of them.

And then the clock whirred across the room and began to let out chimes. It was by the third that they glanced up to see this new distraction, letting go of the magic they had been using to bend the copper. The clock glistened, bronze-cast gears spinning and rotating below it as the disks and black rods aligned to point upwards.

They blinked. It was midnight already? They shook their head, clearing the fog of channelling magic from their mind. They’d only meant to stay down here for an hour, and that was sometime after nine thirty.

As they unfolded themself from their hunched position, staring unceasingly at the copper in order to concentrate to practise bending the metal, their muscles ached and joints popped. It was dangerously easy to lose track of time in deep concentration magic.

Ma wouldn’t be happy they had been out so late, but it had been a mistake after all.

They quickly cleaned up the workstation and put the copper makeshift bowl into a cupboard nearby. Coquelin had given them explicit permission to use the small laboratory space for magical practises, as it was one of the more durable and magically protected rooms in the citadel, but only with the guarantee that it would be clean after use.

It felt good to unwind and stretch their muscles out. The lethargy began to settle heavily into their bones as they blew out the candles still burning and made their way with careful steps out of the room.

The halls were abandoned. They wondered what it would have been like as a fortress. Would there have been guards patrolling the halls at such at hour? Scouts in the towers, or stalking the outside ring around the citadel to watch for intruders?

It was quiet enough almost to be eerie, but Rowan had walked these halls their whole life. It was a familiar, comforting silence.

Which was why the hair rose on the back of their neck when they heard the scuff of shoes on the hardwood flooring.

They peered around the next corner, searching for the source of the noise. Nobody should have been awake, but then again neither should they, so perhaps one of the scholars was up for some late-night reading or studying.

The figures in the hallway, nine in total, were not scholars. Nor were they anyone of the guild. Not to Rowan’s perception anyway. The figures were all masked, clad in plain grey attire the shadows seemed to crowd around and blend into. There were black holes where eyes should be, probably laced with gauze, and they had hoods that half-covered the top of their heads.

“—Gathering Hall. We rendezvous back there.”

“Shouldn’t we have brought Parnel with us? His magic would be useful.”

“His magic is a last resort, if anything goes wrong.”

A sense of distortion swam through their mind as they backed away from the hall the grey masked figures were crowded in. There was no one who dressed in grey masks, not from the guild or the village. Who were they?

They snuck away and then broke into as quiet a run as they could manage, taking a more winding road to one of the staircases in a tower. They skipped every other step until they were on the second floor and went right for the living quarters.

There were no lights on under any of the doors. Ma would have kept a light on if she was awake.

They silently opened the door labelled Percival, Ida, and Cassius instead.

“Fac claritatem nocte per umbram,” they whispered. They didn’t need to see to get to Cassius’ room, and there was enough moonlight that crept into the room to illuminate most of the space, but they didn’t want to make noise. Anything that could be a tripping or bumping hazard, should any furniture have been moved or an object left out on the floor, they wanted to see.

Their surroundings became a shrouded grey, but it was enough to define the space around them and give them a clearer view as they crept through the quarters.

The door to Cassius’ room creaked as they pushed it open, but it did not disrupt the steady breathing from within.

Cassius was curled in blankets like meat wrapped in naan, his nose and curls all that were sticking out. They gently put a hand to his shoulder and shook him. “Cassius.”

He grunted, breath stuttering and sucking in through his mouth as he nosed to blankets out of the way. “Hnnnnmpph,” Cassius replied, and tried to turn over.

Rowan tightened their grip and shook him harder. “Cassius, wake up.”

His eyes opened slowly, and he blinked up at them with a half-lidded, bleary gaze. His brows bent forward and he reached up, untangling his hand from his sheets, to swat their hand away. “Whaddyu wan?”

“Get up out of bed, don’t bother getting dressed,” they said. They pulled the covers off his prone form without waiting for a response, to which Cassius whined. “I need you to eavesdrop.”

It caught Cassius’ attention, although he retained his grumbling, drowsy state as he sat up and swung his legs off the mattress. “Huh? On who? Why? What kinda time is it anyway, Ori, it’s dark as a bat. And what magic are you using?”

“Come on, I’ll explain,” they said, tugging on his arm.

Cassius, clad in a loose-fitting shirt laced up to the second to top hole and shorts that didn’t fall beyond midthigh, grumbled and follow like a cart pulled by a horse behind Rowan. He was completely awake by the time they were out of the sleeping quarters and making their way back towards the staircase but did not shake his foul mood. There was some regret it that as well. They knew well that Cassius often had trouble sleeping.

But this was important.

“There’s strange people in grey masks in the halls. I saw them downstairs when I was coming up from the laboratory. They said something about the Gathering Hall, and I heard them name someone who uses magic, but I don’t know who they are or what they’re doing here. If there’s anyone in the Gathering Hall, can you spy and listen in on them?” they asked as the two made their way down the spiralling stairs.

Cassius gave them an indignant look. “Can I eavesdrop on someone? Can you bow straight on your violin?”

They nodded, ignoring his sharp tone. “What a ridiculous question, of course.”

If the grey masked figures had further invaded the citadel, the two didn’t run into them. They made their way to the Gathering Hall quietly and cautiously, but were met with no obstacles until they reached the grand doors that led in. They were cracked open, and pale blue light spilled from within. Rowan dismissed their dark vision spell under their breath and colour flooded back more vividly.

Their stomach churned uneasily, and they reached back to nudge Cassius’ shoulder. Then they pointed at the light. Cassius frowned at it, and they exchanged a glance. Magefire.

From within came the low, almost indiscernible mutter of voices. They were far too quiet to make out, and beyond the opened doors came the soft clink of metal. It sounded like armour shifting together.

“Wait here,” Cassius whispered, and then darted away before Rowan could say or do anything.

They stood patiently, in sight of the door but within close range of the nearest corner to duck behind should anyone step out of the Gathering Hall. They shivered with the rush of adrenaline, no longer touched by any sort of drowsiness, and tried to hold themself still.

There was something wrong, and they didn’t know what, but they knew. It settled low and wriggling in their stomach.

Taking in a steadying breath through their noise, it was stung by the smell of iron in the air. That’s odd. They shifted uncomfortably, hoping that it was the tang leftover from their metalwork earlier.

It felt like decaying the longer that Cassius was gone. They were tightly wound, trying to remain absolutely silent and also, for their part, to try to detect anything more from the Gathering Hall that they could.

And then Cassius rounded the corner, quiet as the guild’s mouser, Lore. Their heart palpitated at how pale Cassius’ face was, the curve of his brow etched with something that wasn’t quite fright or concern but was not unlike both.

“They’re here for us,” Cassius whispered, voice harried. “They’re here to take us away. I don’t know why, I only heard a little bit.” He let out a breath and began to worry his lip. “There’s two in armour patrolling each door to the hall, and two more by the fireplace. One’s holding a lantern of magefire. They were talking about Margaretta and some kind of power they think we have.” Then a shudder wracked his body and he blanched. “Rowan…”

“What?”

Cassius met their gaze. “I saw someone else in there. I couldn’t recognise them from where I was hiding, it was too dark, but they were wearing scholar’s robes and they weren’t moving. I was close enough to see… I could smell the…”

They shook their head to stop him, lead sinking into their chest. They already knew. They recognised the smell of blood from Mishal returning from training sessions that became a little too rough, Cassius coming up with a scraped knee from running through the woods. From countless occasions.

But never this, never like this.

They reached for Cassius’ arm. “We have to wake Ember and Alanna. If they’re here for us, and they sneak in there while they’re asleep—”

The warning bells began to ring like the tolls of doom, echoing through the stone walls of the citadel and swallowing the near silence that had gripped the halls before.

“Damn it all to bloody decimation!” exclaimed someone from within the Gathering Hall. “They’ve found us!”

They turned frantically towards the door, pushing Cassius back in the same motion to move towards the corner so as to hide themselves.

“Ego advocabit ignis. Adolebitque ad omnia cinis,” came the same voice, chanting in a thunderous summons now.

Rowan’s blood turned to ice as the blue light flared for a moment, and then intensified tenfold as the roar of a fire rose from inside the Gathering Hall. Someone shouted from within, perhaps a name, perhaps the “Parnel” they had heard mentioned earlier, but it didn’t matter.

Magefire, wielded by the right person, could blaze through stone like it was dry leaves.

They grabbed Cassius’ arm as he stared bug-eyed at the fire that had just been summoned in the next room over and yanked. “Run!” they shouted at him, throwing caution to the fire now. It was past the time for that.

Cassius didn’t fight them this time, and they ran full pelt back towards the stairwell.

To Ember and Alanna, and away from the heat already spreading through the hallways behind them.

word count:

1,891

Fac claritatem nocte per umbram = grant me the clarity to see through shadow of the night.

Ego advocabit ignis. Adolebitque ad omnia cinis. = (roughly) I call the fire. Burn everything to ash.