Piper had officially been titled Mage Guardian of the realm just hours ago and she was already busy for the next five years. Meaning she only had tonight to move into the Guardian residence. Thankfully, the council had assured her that even at this hour, help would already be at the house – a perk of the title – so with the ceremony done, Piper had bid the new queen a good night and headed for the house, still in her ceremonial robes.
The door opened as she approached, a teenage girl standing in the frame. She sighed, dark eyes scanning Piper up and down.
“Just when I was getting used to not having a master.”
Piper stopped just before the threshold, frowning. “Excuse me?”
“No! Excuse me!” Her face transformed, as she plastered on an overly saccharine smile. “Please, come in. Not that you need to be invited into your own home where I already live.”
“Who are you?” Piper asked, not moving to enter, even as the girl gestured for her to do so with a dramatic flourish.
“Me?” she exclaimed, slapping a hand to her chest. “Liliana Harfeldt, Mage Guardian Hand and the help I have no doubt you were promised.”
It was Piper’s turn to eye the girl. This was a teenager. She couldn’t be part of the help the council were referring to. Surely she had lessons tomorrow.
“How old are you?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Liliana smirked as she wiggled her fingers, purple sparks flickering between them. “I’m pretty strong.”
So, she was a mage too and indeed, a strong one; just from the small action, Piper’s hairs were standing on her arms. Still,
“Great. Not what I asked,” she said. “Tell me how old you are.”
“Fifteen,” she replied, faster than Piper would’ve expected her to cave but she scowled at her almost immediately afterwards. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
Naturally, she got the kind of dirty look only a teenager could muster up in answer.
“Are you coming in then?”
Piper peered behind her, very aware of the lack of any other presence in the house. “Where… where’s everyone else?”
Liliana narrowed her eyes, but when Piper only waited, disgust became confusion before she let out a scoff that could’ve been a laugh, rolling her eyes.
“You’ve got to be kidding me. You have no clue, do you?”
Pressing her tongue into her cheek, Piper took a breath before asking, “What are you talking about?”
“The stories are true, aren’t they? You’re a mage who grew up in the human world like the new human queen.”
She refused to let this teenager make her feel any shame about it. It was the exact advantage that had helped her save the realm, find the people who helped her do it (including their new queen) and earn the title of Mage Guardian before she was even thirty.
“Yes, and?”
“I don’t have time for this,” the girl muttered, shaking her head. “Whatever, I’ve got things to do.”
And just like that she turned her back, her braided ponytail almost hitting Piper in the face, and started to walk back into the house.
“Hey, stop! Come back here!” Piper called, after picking her jaw off the ground. To her complete and utter surprise… she did. Immediately. Scowling obviously but… obeying.
“Any more commands?” she snapped.
A knot was starting to form in Piper’s stomach. “What are you talking about?”
“That a command?”
Piper narrowed her eyes, meeting her stare. Behind the bitterness, she could see it. The girl would answer if it were. Somehow… she would have to.
She shook her head. “A question.”
Liliana said nothing, just stared at her. Longer than comfortable. Long enough that Piper figured she wouldn’t answer. But she did.
“You know what an enempy is?”
Piper nodded. A mage without power. It was a sad reality she was hoping to change but the realm as it was, was dangerous for enempys. Magic couldn’t interact with humans directly so they were safe from near all magical influence, but enempys still had mage blood – magic could be used against them with no defence of their own.
“Someone in my bloodline was one, centuries ago, before enempys could move to the human world. For protection, he agreed to serve the Mage Guardian. Once my ancestor had a child who was a mage, the guardian pretended he was doing the man a favour by promising to protect his bloodline so long as he served the Guardian. My great, great something, didn’t realise he’d meant beyond them both. So here I am. Magic at your service so you don’t have to waste your precious own,” she said, sarcasm dripping from each last word.
“But… what about the rest of your family? Why is it just you?”
For the first time, Liliana looked… well not quite sad – she clearly had too much pride for that – but the least sarcastic Piper had seen her yet. “My dad was the Guardian Hand before me, but I came into my full power when I was twelve. You have day staff. People who can cook and clean and do general upkeep. My job is mostly magical. I go where you go; I assist with quests and experiments; I read and update the Guardian’s journal –“
“You’ve read the journal?” Piper exclaimed.
Liliana raised her brows. “And transcribed multiple pages. The point is the Guardian Hand has access to incredibly classified information here and my bloodline is powerful. It doesn’t make sense to have two liabilities when one is more than capable.”
“So, your father just left you here?”
The teenager’s eyes darkened. “Don’t say it like it’s his fault. My dad loved me! He didn’t want this for me; he didn’t even want to have me because he knew this would be my fate. But of course, it wasn’t up to him. The Mage Guardian can’t be without their Hand and their bound bloodline needed to continue.”
Piper had no words. She knew the realm wasn’t perfect, that there were old habits and traditions that would take time to break and she knew the Mage Guardians weren’t without guilt, but what Liliana was implying…
“He doesn’t remember any of it. No Hand does,” Liliana continued. “There’s a period of training but when the first born of the line comes into their power, the title is passed and they forget everything. Their time as a Hand; their true name; their child… very intricate mage work.”
Piper was already shaking her head. “There must be a way to end it?”
Liliana laughed in her face. “Obviously. A Guardian made it; a Guardian can break it.”
“Then why-”
“You’re so naïve,” the girl muttered.
“Would you stop talking to me like that and just tell me what you mean?” Piper snapped. She realised her mistake the moment Liliana glared but began to speak.
“No, wait stop! I’m sorry,” she exclaimed. “I – I didn’t mean to do that. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”
She’d felt it that time. The command. The subtle bond to the girl, where all she had to do was speak for her to act. No one should have that much power over another person.
The girl frowned at her. “No, I’ll tell you. Because everyone before you knew what they were doing. Some feel bad, and treat us well to make themselves feel better, tell themselves they’re friends, family even but they won’t free us. They ‘can’t.’ ‘We know too much;’ ‘seen too much;’ ‘it’s dangerous’! They’ll ‘free us in a week,’ ‘in a month,’ ‘when they’re done,’ blah, blah, blah! It’s lies! You’re never done! So, we’re never free.”
Piper narrowed her eyes. Was this reckless? Maybe. But necessary.
“As the Mage Guardian of the realm, by the council, the people and her majesty’s single accord, I, Piper Varthur, free you and your line, from both before and now, from your service and any other oath by which you are unwillingly bound. Should you serve, let it be a choice.”
The girl stayed frozen for a beat too long. If Piper hadn’t felt the magic herself, she might’ve thought it hadn’t worked.
“Can you do that?”
Piper shrugged, doing her best to not show how much it had taken from her. “I just did, didn’t I?”
Liliana looked her over again, her scrutiny more curious than anything as she hummed once before stepping round her… and walking away without another word. Not looking back. Not once.
A part of Piper wanted to be offended she hadn’t even said thank you, but she couldn’t bring herself to regret her decision, not even out of spite when she thought about it for more than two seconds. So, she’d watched her walk away and took a deep breath as she turned to face the empty house that was now her problem. Those boxes weren’t going to move themselves.