Chapter 1: On the Canal.

I curled up tighter against the canal boat’s bulkhead as it lurched forward, the mule towing me along with several tons of pig iron and lead, further away from the home I had always known. They wouldn’t look for me on the canal; I had grabbed plenty of cash as I fled, and the inquisitors knew that. Anyone would take one of the locomotives. The high cost of the ticket would be worth it in getting as far away from their grasp as possible. It was the logical choice, so naturally I picked the canal boat. The daughter of the vaunted Lee family would never lower herself to stowing away in cargo.

That shows how much they know. Or it would if my assumption about their assumptions was correct. Prestigious as my family name may be I was anything but. From a branch family, and most of my parent’s attention went to my brother. The talented one, who could ride with the best of them, wield a saber or lance like he was born with them in his hand, and had a quick wit that made him the star of high society. Night and Day with the gloomy younger sister, known for haunting the libraries and book-rooms of the Empire’s cities.

I reached into my pack and pulled out a book, and old leather-bound tome I had found in a backroom of the old capitol’s basement. Despite its age there was no sent of mildew, the pages -actual parchment if you can believe it- as crisp as the day they were written. That’s right, written. While technology may have declined since the glory days of the Empire, printing was still alive and well, fueled by the barges bringing paper from the far-off northern kingdoms. So finding a tome, written by hand in a long-dead language, was something to marvel at.

A vibration seemed to resonate with my fingertips as I ran them across the surface. I glanced around sharply, but even if the canal boatmen hadn’t been topside they wouldn’t have seen anything. Just me touching the book. The cause of all my problems. The Empire prided itself on its rationality, upholding itself as a Beacon of Progress, the remaining bulwark of the Enlightenment that once ruled this whole continent and beyond.

Anyone had to admit they did a good job at this, all things considered. But keeping these standards meant they had to work hard against the enemies of rational order. Anything that threatened to turn the rational irrational. And, possibly in part due to exposure to this book, I had become part of this “irrationality.” A fly in the ointment.

The stomp of heavy boots interrupted my thoughts. The captain of the boat stepped down the couple steps into the cabin and filled a kettle -coffee, by the smell of it- and noticed me curled up in the corner with the book.

“You all right there, lass?” He asked, concern in his voice. Earlier, when I had came up to the canal docks with only a pack to my name, he had halted his preparation and immediately set to discussing fares with me. From his tone when we agreed upon our final price, he seemed unaware that I knew he was charging far below market price even for a canal boat heading west.

I nodded. I wasn’t much for talking, if only because facing people made me feel like my heart was being clamped down in a blacksmith’s vice. I could correspond plenty with written words, but I struggled when talking face to face. Don’t get me wrong, I still could, but the process was like pulling teeth.

“I don’t mean to pry too much, but I just want to let you know I think I have an inkling about your problem.” He smiled, a gesture that showed clearly that he didn’t not have a clue. Not that I was going to point that out. Spitting in the face of his kindness would be unthinkable. “I don’t understand why the noble families keep up such a barbaric practice as arranged marriages, forcing someone as young as you into one is unconscionable.” I stared at him.

I know I don’t look my twenty-one years, on account of all the meals I skipped, but no one had ever mistaken me for being that much younger. It was the eyes. The dark circles underneath them balanced out the small stature and at least made me resemble the adult I am. Or a corpse. I’ve heard that one a lot.

“Of course, sir.” I managed to squeak out. I’m nervous around people, but I’m smart enough to know his misunderstanding is to my advantage.

“Keep this to yourself,” he smiled reassuringly, “but I’m not a big fan of the nobility.” I nodded. While having republican views wasn’t illegal in the Empire -calling themselves a bastion of rationality necessitated a certain amount of liberal though- it was frowned upon for the stability of the country. Of course we still had our parliament, but suggesting they get more power was disincentivized. Financially. It would hurt his business badly if they found out he didn’t like the nobles he worked under.

“I’m sure most of them are good people, but there’s a rot in there.” Now that, he could get in trouble for saying beyond financial ruin. “Why, one of the biggest families out there for sure has a rot. It was all over the papers this morning. In the Lee family, they found a witch.” I gave a start. There it was. The enemies of the rational order, those who dabble in the arcane. And my reason for being on this boat.

“No need to be so afraid. She’ll surely be caught in no time; her own family will likely track her down. Evelyn, I think her name was? The younger sister of that fancy Captain of the Mansee lancers. There’s no way that family would let the stain of a witch sully their name for long, but the fact that one showed up in their family shows the rot all the same.” That was my brother. Fancy, proper, and would not let me continue to sully the family name by continuing to draw breath.

“W-what did the papers say she did?” I asked. After I fled the ball last night I hid out in an abandoned warehouse by the docks. It was dangerous for a young woman to do, but far safer than waltzing into the waiting hands of the guards at the train station.

“She threw a fireball at the Emperor’s nephew! Can you imagine? This wasn’t just someone who dabbled in a few minor cantrips. A ball of fire!” He shook his head as he pulled the pot off the wood stove and poured out the coffee. I tried not to salivate too much at the rich scent, instead thinking on the events of last night.

What I had actually done was panicked when he walked up behind me. I had found the book a few days previously, and while I had a sneaking suspicion of what handling it and, worse, opening it might have done to me, this was the worst way to confirm it.

And I didn’t “throw a fireball” at him. What actually happened was an even more painful set of coincidences. A gust of wind… emanated, I suppose, from my hands, hitting the dessert table I had been drooling over. The wind hit a pastry, a marvelous one bedecked in a decadent amount of powdered sugar from the Southern Reaches of the empire.

If this powdered sugar hadn’t directly demonstrated the source of the unnatural wind, it might have been mistaken for an unfortunate draft in my family home, and I would have had more time to plan my escape. But my parents, wanting to show off our remaining wealth at this ball, spared no expense. After all, its not every day that the family’s eldest son gets promoted to Captain at the young age of twenty two. Even the emperor’s nephew showed up from the Capital, a school-friend of my brother’s who had an unfortunate habit of teasing me growing up.

So the wind, and the powdered sugar, gave away my departure from being on the side of the Rationality the empire so loves. This was already bad enough. But the candles between me and Jack made the scenario all the worse. As anyone who’s read enough about flour mills can tell you, fine dust and flames are a bad mix. While physically not as catastrophic as some mill accidents can be, the resulting fireball seemingly sent towards the prince killed any chance of me surviving with my place in society and neck intact.

So I fled. Ran up to my room in the confusion, traded my ball gown for commoner’s dress, and snuck out the servants entrance. I could have caught the midnight train out to the frontier, but no one would think a “high-society” lady would rough it on the canals. No one, except maybe my brother.

He, unlike most the of guard presumably, knew me. My fear towards people. My tendency to dress up in commoner’s weeds and visit bookshops and libraries. My indifference towards dust and dirt, since all the most interesting books were found moldering away in the backs of the greatest libraries and museums. And beneath all that, a stubbornness that had me avoiding the worst of my comportment and manners classes, if I may say so myself. A stubbornness that had cost me my place in society. If I had been at my class learning harpsichord instead of finding cursed magical books in old buildings I would still be at home.

“Here lass, you look like you need it.” The boat captain handed me a tin cup, steaming with a dark brew. I took the cup, grateful for the scent that helped clear my head. “I’m going to check on the lads, make sure they don’t mess up at the lock coming up, but if you need anything just holler.” I nodded, and as he went back outside I returned my attention to the book.

The cause of all my problems it may be, but in it might also be the solution to them. Or at least a way to ease them.

Magic in the Empire was forbidden. It was the enemy to the typical order of the world. Many of the Empire’s scholars blamed it’s resurgence for the Empire’s decline. Personally, I didn’t entirely disagree with their arguments.

But this book somehow made me able to use magic. It wasn’t my choice to join the side of irrationality, but it happened and there was no putting the genie back in the bottle. Sure, all children at one point or another imagined what it’d be like to be able to cast spells, mess with the world order, summon up any number of things to make life more… fantastic. But witches and sorcerers were outcasts. Getting caught using magic meant losing your citizenship, being exiled, or even execution. But that was in the Empire.

It was an open secret that the kingdoms, principalities, and duchies dotting the Empire’s borders were a bit more pragmatic when it came to magic users. And beyond their borders, in the wildernesses filled with wild men and arcane creatures, the most powerful of Witches were rumored to dwell. The Empire was no longer my home, but maybe, in the frontier, I could make a living.

An ability to command these arcane arts could earn me a position as a court mage. Not a prestigious position to be sure, but three hots and a cot in exchange for protecting a petty king from the monsters of the wilderness was leagues better than dying to my brother’s lance. And if that, the court mage gig, failed, a command over magic would allow me to survive the wilderness, and maybe eek out a living beyond the domain of Man.

So, my eyes scanned the book like my life depended on it. My life did depend on it. Too bad the book wasn’t in any language I knew. But the vibration from the book, increasing with every inch of text my eyes played across, made me believe that my efforts weren’t in vain. I took a sip of coffee while I ‘read’ and grimaced. It had gone cold. Thinking hard, glaring at the coffee, I felt the vibration flow into the tin cup.

I took another sip, enjoying the hot, steaming flavor of the drink, and continued to read.