Mud splattered her trousers as she walked. The lower city was never well maintained it seemed more like a place for a rat to die than for people to try and live. King Harold liked it that way. The Red Keep was a fractured city between mages scurrying away and the Red Knights trying to step on them. Isadora was the former. Her geoptic emerald eyes were hard to disguise and she could feel her spell waning like the midsummer sunlight. Hurrying from alleyways to narrow streets panic began to set in as her surroundings warped into unrecognizable territory. If she was out after dark then-!

  ‘Isadora?’ A familiar voice called from the dusk.

  ‘… Elizabeth…?’ Her frail voice called back.

  Out of the shadows stepped another geoptic. Her eyes were not disguised so bright opals were in her eye sockets, skin slightly grey like rock.

  Isadora’s own spell finally gave up as she ran to her, emeralds shining in the dark as they embraced.

  ‘I got lost.’ She stated dumbly.

  ‘I can see that.’ Elizabeth brushed some short hair from Isadora’s child-chubby face. She told her to always keep it short, least it be grabbed in a brawl. She looked into her complex, emerald eyes. She’d be caught and killed looking as a geoptic. By association alone Elizabeth would be killed no matter her race… Was there anything harboring more ruination than family? ‘Pay attention on the way, you’re not that far from the entrance.’

  ‘Ok.’ She smiled despite the streaks of worry across her face. If a Red Knight was down in the lower city they’d be put to the spear immediately. Kill on sight- it was something a poster, as large as the wall it was suck to, admitted proudly. There were countless posters all about the evil of magic. It made her head throb to see bloodstains on some of them. She felt her amulet around her neck, the Goddess of Battle. Elizabeth had a near identical one but it lacked a gemstone stuck under it. She had gifted the necklace to Isadora, saying the gem was lucky and to not take it off. However, she didn’t seem like the superstitious type.

  Twisting and turning through allies like a rat in a maze they eventually make it to the correct one, a small door jammed at the very back, a river of mud like a mote to stop them. Isadora clung to the teenager like she could dissipate. It was dark, the sun had long set. She hated the dark. Sinking in the mud they walked over to the end of the alleyway and Elizabeth hit her knuckle against it with coded knocks. A few heartbeats later some metal scraped away, two eyes were hidden behind enchanted spectacles to detect falsehoods but unnecessary the geoptic eyes were a dead giveaway. He didn’t bother with the password and after clanging of gears and metal did the door silently open. Isadora followed Elizabeth to a common enough trapdoor, nearly every house had one, but no other house had one like this. With a thud she opened it to show a ghostly outline of stairs descending into the dark.

  ‘Forsa.’ Elizabeth whispered and a potion corked in a glass bottle began to glow a sweet orange. It highlighted the steps in the void of darkness as Isadora focused on not falling off the edge of the sheer drop. The steps were softened and morphed from the thousand-thousand footsteps taken on them, making them smooth and even worse to walk on. ‘This is so dangerous.’ She squeaked.

  ‘Don’t worry yourself Isa.’ Elizabeth fetched a different potion from her belt ‘I have this, and just like I said before and before, I haven’t needed to use it yet.’ She pocketed the levitation spell and silence returned between the slap-sounding steps.

  A hundred and one, a hundred and two, a hundred and three… Isadora counted, and once on one hundred and five Elizabeth vanished in front of her. The girl was unfazed. One hundred and six, one hundred and seven… eight- suddenly sound, light and warmth struck her. The shield accepted her as they walked into the Trading Cavern, the heart of all sorcery!

  There were so many people the ground flowed like merging rivers as people soared through the air on brooms like birds. A band was playing nearby, strumming her with lively, joyous music. She struggled to make out the stall they wanted in the firelight, as she reached the bottom of the staircase. Elizabeth took her hand before walking into the dense crowds of people.

  ‘No matter what, don’t go far from me.’ Elizabeth warned, like she had warned every time before, speaking loudly over the conversations of the crowd, shouts of joy from fliers, screams of spells going wrong and roars of caged animals.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  ‘I won’t-.’ She cut herself off from saying sister. ‘Elizabeth. I never do.’ She reassured and squeezed her hand three times to symbolize the words: I love you.

  Elizabeth’s face softened before they walked in. Of course the stall they wanted was buried in the crowds but Elizabeth followed the route she had taken countless times before. Isadora passed all manner of people- not one the same! People wore tight metal for fire spells, pirate garb, long green robes, stone armour, colourful furs, while they carried long wands, crooked staffs, gemstones hung about them, feathers in their caps, boots stained with foreign soil, swords scabbard, creatures perched on their shoulders or chained to their wrist… but the one thing they had in common was the red symbol on their temple.

  Everyone possible of magic was assigned a single class for them to learn freely, the tattoo symbolized the magic class. This was to control them, so no one could become too powerful. They naturally were a neutral black and it only shone red if the mage had betrayed one of the most serious laws… when she was younger she assumed they would all eventually glow red. She had been signaled with naturalistic magic, the tattoo on her temple remained ink-black.

  Naturalistic magic, put bluntly, were potions and spells made from plants and the natural world. Geoptics were naturally skilled with magic, capable of using wands or just their words, but she was… unlucky, she wasn’t as good as the rest of her race. She had one thought the tattoo had somehow locked away the rest of her magic… but that’s not how it works, it was created from the skills one already has in their blood.

  Her eyes focused on Elizabeth’s wand tucked into her belt and felt a pang of bitterness. With the newfound fear of magic nowadays a wand would cost as much as the person itself! Elizabeth could create potions and do Isadora’s more simplistic ingredient-based magic, but Isadora could never use a wand. Her magic was never strong enough. ‘It’ll take time.’ She’d always say.

  Reaching the stall the smell of wet soil was pungent, the merchant was dripping wet. That meant his supplies were fresh! Isadora watched as Elizabeth collected the ingredients for eye changes. Her eyes focused on a magic tome and her stomach fluttered. A real tome! They were getting so rare nowadays! If anything could help with her magic it would be one of those. It’s said the magic of the writer is infused into a tomes very pages and ink!

  ‘How much for the tome?’ Isadora shyly asked Elizabeth who looked to the ornate, thick book, an enchanted latch wrapped around it like a coiled snake.

  ‘Oh, we can’t afford something like that-.’

  The merchant cut her off ‘for a power like that…’ He removed the pipe from his crooked teeth ‘a few psychic spells, a thousand gems or bone from a sea beast the size of me!’

  She felt a sinking feeling.

  Elizabeth ushered to the small pile she had gathered. ‘All this for spell ‘all this for ingredient com’nation 1.567.’ She said. A unique fireball spell, but being naturalistic magic meant it wasn’t worth much.

  The one eyed merchant looked at her and snorted, some ash falling from his pipe, ‘nah, no. All those for the earth spell 3.850.’ The ability to form stone into spears.

  She tightened her lips, ‘we don’t have enough magical strength for mind magic, how ‘bout the combination 2.76?’ She was hoping an earth spell for manipulating stones would suffice.

  ‘That’s for wands ‘n’ staffs- you’re a geoptic! You’re’ll psychic!’

  ‘Geoptics are incredibly skilled with magic but it’s not all innate, I’ve never had a teacher so-.’

  ‘Right, right, whatever. 2.76 will do!’

  After a relieved breath Elizabeth began to share her knowledge.

  In a land where magical knowledge was becoming more and more restrict spells began to replace money. A coin wouldn’t stop a Red Knight from decapitating you, but a shield spell might…

  Gathering the flora in a sack they walked to a slightly less crowded area. Sitting on the dirt Elizabeth began to go through the instructions for the hundredth time- ‘I know, Elizabeth, let me.’ Isadora took the pestle and mortar and began to mush up the eyeball with riverside soil.