(featuring my mage oc, Anthea Silverthorn. Shadow - glass.)
The air was thick with summer.
The shoreline stretched out into the horizon, waves rolling in a gentle rhythmic sound. The pale, soft sand lay most uninterrupted, marked only by the occasional seashell or crab walking by.
The sea, deep and endless, mirrored the soft hues of the sky, blending from pale blue to a warm orange as the sun fell.
The breeze carried the scent of salt and seaweed. Much like a lover’s caress. Gentle. A reminder of better days.
Strolling down the warm sand, her feet making imprints that were quickly washed away by the ocean was Anthea—or at least, that’s what they named her. Her expression was as neutral as ever, not an ounce of feeling. She wore a simple summer dress, white as the first snowfall of winter—stark against her hair, black as night.
Ahead of her walked a formidable man, clad in imposing armor that reflected his status. His steps were quick yet measured, not giving the girl behind him a chance to catch up. This went against every order they’d been given. Anthea—the ‘weapon of war’—was not to leave Talos anytime soon. But when did Julian ever listen to Argos?
The curse user laughed to himself. He was eager to see the look on the old general’s face when he found out his little tool was gone temporarily. The poor girl needed to see the world too, outside of the damned old fortress. Julian hadn’t wanted her to rot in there—he remembered too well how claustrophobic it could get. He shuddered at the thought. Never again. Never again—
“Wait up…” Anthea’s voice cut into his thoughts, breathless as she struggled to keep pace. The general was so engrossed in his thoughts that he failed to notice he was walking much more quickly than her. He offered her an apologetic wink, sticking out his tongue and letting her catch up. She was clumsy, still unfamiliar with her own limbs—no surprise, really. Training wasn’t his job, though. Let the veterans deal with that.
“Heh, sorry, sorry. I’m kinda used to the soldiers. Forgot you’re like a newborn fawn learning how to use its legs.” Julian chuckled, but when Anthea didn’t respond, he cleared his throat and stepped toward her. She lacked emotion—and didn’t understand humor. Oh well. That was another story.
“I’ve got something for you anyway, but don’t tell the rest I made it for you. They’d scold me for days. Especially the old man.”
The glass curse user ran a hand through his hair and laughed bitterly, but there was no bite to his words. He respected General Argos—at least, to some extent. He knew they’d find out eventually, after all, his mastery with glass magic was greater than hers. But alas. He’d deal with it later. Just wanted to make the artificial human feel kindness for once in her life. He still wondered if she even understood kindness.
Conjuring a shard of stained glass over his right hand, Julian began shaping it—shaving edges, softening corners, coaxing color into its heart. In moments, it had become a heart-shaped crystal, glowing with deep red hues. He held it up, examining it with an artist’s scrutiny. Satisfied, he reached for the large ribbon at her neck and fastened it on with care. His smile was gentle, proud.
Anthea simply tilted her head to the side, confused. But there was a warmth in his eyes she had never seen in Talos. He seemed proud of his creation, and prouder that she was the one bearing it.
“A gift. From one glass mage to another. Remember—you’re much more than what they make you to be, Anthea.”
And with those words, General Julian began walking once more. For the first time since her strange “birth”, the girl smiled, clutching the crystal close.
“oh he said you can’t leave talos? yeah watch this”