He cherished them all the more now, knowing he’d likely never set foot on his homeland again. Never again would he have moments like this, stretched out on his back in the littleboat he’d built when he came of age ten years ago, letting the gentle rocking of the water soothe his fears. Tiny waves lapped against the wooden sides, a sound as familiar to him as his father’s voice had once been. A small portable awning provided cover from the sun on hot days, but today the sky was littered with clouds, blocking the sun and promising a storm tomorrow. Not strong enough to delay his departure, unfortunately, but enough to make the trip even more miserable.
Shaking off his maudlin thoughts grew more and more difficult with each passing day, but today he crushed them into a ball and sank them into the ocean of his mind. Today was his last day in Canjir and nothing would ruin it, not even himself.
He forced himself to sit up when the gentle rocking threatened to lull him to sleep. There was no one else on the water today, at least not where he was. The fisherman had combed through here yesterday and were out to the south today, giving him the solitude he needed.
The ocean was warm to the touch, his fingers trailing across the surface and leaving swirls and whorls in their wake. A flicker of concentration and a tiny push from Eiri turned them into miniature whirlpools dancing around each other, spinning and twirling before coming together as one. Another mental nudge and the whirlpool rose up, creating a waterspout that stretched from his fingers back down to the ocean’s surface. It was an entirely frivolous use of his magic, a flashy little trick his mother would despise.
He’d been delighted when he realized he was a mage, at first. For as long as he could remember, there’d been a flicker of something deep within him, there but out of reach, no matter how much he tried to touch it. Unlike some mages, whose power gradually manifested as they grew older, their abilities growing with them, Eiri’s had hit in a rush. His magic had saved his life as a child and he’d taken to learninglike a fish to water.
That enthusiasm followed him through childhood, until the day he was old enough to understand just how hard life on Canjir truly was. He’d let his learning fall to the wayside in favor of learning the art of sailing and raiding, much to his father’s chagrin. When Raku C’Dari passed away, though, leaving his mother alone and trying to keep two children alive, Eiri, then only a young teen, had tucked himself underneath the wing of Woren, a seasoned raider, and never looked back.
Drawing on another touch of magic, he stretched the spout higher, pulling more water up into the column. A welcome haze settled over his mind and the waterspout blurred, his gaze unfocused as his fears tried to creep back in.
Of all the people in the world, his betrothed was the one person who truly wanted him dead. He would be alone in enemy territory, and itwasenemy territory no matter what pretty lies the politicians spun. The moment he left Canjir, he was entirely at the mercy of the Vaetrean crown and his new husband, neither of whom had any reason to grant him that mercy. Cut off from his homeland, his family, and everything he knew, how long would it be before a mysterious accident befell him? He couldn’t be on guard every minute of every day for the rest of his life. In his gut, he knew his life would be forfeit the moment he set foot on the ship that would take him away.
His boat tipped violently and only his quick reflexes kept him from being dumped into the water. Blinking out of his thoughts, Eiri looked up to see the waterspout now towering above him, at least fifteen feet high and rapidly growing, fed by his magic and his fear.
“Shit,” he hissed, grasping the edge of the boat and forcing himself to focus. He pulled his magic back in increments, shrinking the cyclone down, down, until it settled back into the depths and dissipated, leaving only gentle ripples in his wake.
Eiri sagged, burying his face in his hands. He hadn’t lostcontrol like that in years, not since he’d been an untried youth on a power trip. Finding out he could control water, on an island surrounded by it, had gone straight to his head and naturally, he’d decided to show it off to his mother in a bid to earn her approval. Instead, he’d nearly drowned Akari and left himself in magical burnout from using too much power at once and pushing past his limits.
Losing control to this extent told him it was time to head back to shore. Golden light washed over the water as the sun began its descent and he’d be late for his last meal at home if he didn’t head back, anyway. He was still upset with his mother, but he wanted to spend whatever time he had left with Akari.
When he drew on his magic again, he kept his focus strictly on what he was doing. The tide was moving in and he rode the tails of that natural power, adding a little extra push to propel his boat forward and to the docks. Tying it off and climbing up the ladder came as naturally as breathing, but this time, Eiri lingered a moment.
“Goodbye.”
The whispered word disappeared into the evening breeze, swept out to sea along with all the hopes and dreams he’d held close for so long. All the plans he’d made, deep in the dark of night, alone in his room, were impossible now, drowned by the weight of duty and family. Tomorrow, Eiri Vardor would begin a new life with his husband in Vaetreas. Tonight, Eiri C’Dari took one last, lingering look at the ocean that had sheltered him for so long, letting it wash away the smoldering ashes of what could have been.
The coast of Vaetreas was a familiar sight to Eiri. After a decade spent raiding towns up and down the coastline, he likely knewit better than most Vaetreans. In all those years, though, he’d never strayed further north than the city of Quant. Beyond that, the only major port was the capital city of Lodie. Getting too close to the capital was all but begging to be attacked by the royal navy. Any raider boat could outrun a bulky naval ship, but they didn’t stand a chance against the long-range weapons, bolstered by battle mages. Best to just stay far away.
Eiri’s pulse picked up when his ship sailed right past Quant and kept heading north. Every long-conditioned reflex told him to turn and run as fast as he could, and his heart agreed. No part of him wanted to be here, on this ugly Vaetrean ship, heading straight for the capital where his betrothed awaited him. There would be no time to recuperate once they docked. He would go straight from the ship to his wedding ceremony. Whoever had planned this clearly didn’t want to give either groom a chance to run before the contracts were signed.
He had no choice but to go through with this and he knew it, but as the towers of the palace rose up on the horizon, the open ocean started to look more and more inviting. He could use his magic and get to shore before they caught him. It would be easy to disappear from there. Maybe head west to Nevarre, where they were more welcoming. He’d have to hide his Canjiri magic, so different from the mages on the continent, but surely it couldn’t be that hard.
“Please don’t jump,” a voice at his elbow murmured in Canjiri and Eiri jumped, spinning on his heel, heart racing.
“It hadn’t crossed my mind,” he replied on reflex, giving himself a moment to calm down. Kien just raised an eyebrow.
“I might believe that more if you hadn’t spent the last few miles staring at the water.” Kien stood at the railing, looking out at the fast-approaching port. “Officially, I would be required to come after you. Unofficially… I can’t say that I blame you for considering it.”
That was a surprise. Kien C’Marlo was a last-minute peace gift from his mother. A diplomat with the training of a soldier, his official role was ambassador, the first of several, if the marriage held together. In reality, he was there to keep Eiri safe. Bringing a bodyguard would be an enormous breach of etiquette, openly saying he didn’t trust Vaetrean hospitality. Bringing a politician who just happened to have been a soldier for years could plausibly be written off as a coincidence.
More important than any of that, though, was the simple fact that he was Canjiri. Eiri wouldn’t be alone and friendless, left to face the wrath of a court that hated his people.
“If I tried to run, I guarantee my mother would personally track me down and drag me back in chains,” he said, reluctantly turning away from his contemplation of the water.
“Yet you’re still tempted to try.” It wasn’t a question, but he nodded anyway.
“A little,” Eiri confessed, chuckling. The moment was fleeting as his fear rose back up, threatening to choke him. “This is going to be a disaster.”
“Perhaps, but unfortunately, all we can do is play our parts and watch our backs. We are the only ones we can trust, especially once we’re in Lodie.”
“I hate that either of us has to deal with these people, but I admit, I’m glad I’m not alone. I—” Eiri cut himself off, finally noticing the two crewmen standing near the mast, openly glaring at him. “I can’t tell if those looks are because we’re Canjiri or because we dared speak our own language.”
“I’m fairly sure it’s both,” Kien replied, still in Canjiri.
“I suppose I should get used to it. We’ll be seeing that look a lot from now on.” They couldn’t hide who they were even if they’d wanted to. Their eyes would give them away every time. While some of his people did leave the island and marry foreigners, they usually went to Nevarre or Kargha. If they wereparticularly adventurous, they may continue across the sea to Caranyvik.
