My magic unleashed with no particular target. I wanted to hurt this boy who dared control me. I needed to protect me and mine. The carefully carved marble cracked. The chandelier I hadn't even noticed before fell toward the mage in the purple hat. He raised a shield before it could shatter his skull. The pieces ricocheted from his shield, but my bubble held true, protecting me and Mumma from the destruction my magic wrought without a thought.

  The boy had a carefully carved black staff in his hand now. It gleamed as he whispered furiously. I needed to end this before whatever he was doing worked, but what could I do? As I failed at finding any logical solution to my problem, my magic only grew more agitated, more violent, and it attacked the only valid target in the room. Thunder reigned in the chamber. It hit the obsidian table, cracking it into halves.

  Mumma cried out and dropped to her knees.

  "My sweetest baby girl..." her voice, always the source of authority, came out cracked. I looked back and saw the tears rolling down her face and I couldn't be angry anymore. I collapsed in her tired arms and she rubbed my back in the same soothing pattern Rowan had.

  "I am sorry. I am sorry. I am sorry." I repeat like a mantra, realizing I proved him right with my childish outburst. I am ashamed.

  The mage was repairing the room with a wave of his staff. His magic was constructive, precise. He healed the crack in the table. The chandelier was once again fixed to the ceiling. In fact, when I stopped crying I realized the room looked exactly as it had when I entered.

  "You're a very powerful mage, Mira. I will give you the choice this time. Accept the contract. Study under Master Magistus. Learn control and you will be able to help the kingdom so much with the gift you've been given. Otherwise, the only choice I have is to seal your magic. We cannot have magical accidents like this happening."

  He's speaking from authority, but his voice no longer carries it. His breathing is shallow. No longer controlled. No longer polished. No longer poised.

  "I will do it." I have always wanted to learn magic. "I want to remain in contact with Mumma and Rowan. And once I can control my magic, I can come back." I clarify my terms.

  "I will personally ensure you're able to send letters back and forth. You're not a prisoner. Being an apprentice of Master Magistus is quite an envious position for many, Mira." He says and conjures another contract out of nothingness.

  Mumma has her arms around me and we are sitting quite comfortably now.

  "Can we take the contract and have it looked over? One of my childhood friends is a lawyer," Mumma asks.

  "I am afraid that's not possible. We need to be at the Southern Tower by this evening. I assure you there is nothing nefarious in this contract and it is quite standard. Let me read out the terms to you." He's back to his professional, slippery voice. I am surprised he's a mage, not a lawyer.

  I will not bore you with the exact details, but the terms boil down to loyalty to the Crown and Kingdom in exchange for care and mentorship. I will be released from the contract at sixteen. It seems quite standard and neither me nor Mumma ask him any further questions.

  Mumma takes a pin from her pocket. Her eyes glisten as she pricks my index finger. She holds my hand as blood drips onto the cloth-like paper. It glimmers intensely for a moment and then there is no sign of any blood at all.

  The mage taps at the contract, instantly creating a copy and giving it to Mumma.

  "Meet me at the Gateway at sunset. We will leave tonight," he says and stands up.

  Mumma holds my hand and we walk out. We meet Rowan and Finn outside the temple. They were enjoying ice cream when my life changed. The ride back to the farm is quiet.

  There is not much time till my departure. Mumma takes out a trunk and starts packing my sparse belongings the moment we return. I go to say my goodbye to the chickens. I won't be collecting their eggs every morning anymore.

  Rowan brings me a very egg-like stone. I don't know when he painted it with stripes of pink and blue. Finn says he's sorry. I feel too empty to say anything back.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  The time passes too quickly and we are back again in the town, standing at the Gateway. It's taller than a two-story building and wide enough for four carriages side by side. It's not see-through. I see a different place beyond it—another town, somewhere else entirely.

  The purple hat mage comes right when the clock chimes six. He's followed by an entourage now, making him seem older than he is.

  I hug Mumma and my brothers huddle in.

  "I love you. You're my sweetest baby girl. We will meet soon. Promise?" Mumma whispers.

  "Promise," I repeated, clasping her hands.

  We look at the mage and he walks toward us.

  "All ready?" he asks.

  "Ready." I am not.

  He levitates my trunk and I follow after him. He casts at the Gateway and the location beyond it changes to a town poorer than mine. I wave back at my family, not knowing when I will see them again.

  The walk through the Gateway is instantaneous—so instantaneous I don't have words to describe how I passed through time and space. One moment I was in my hometown and the next moment I was in a town near the warfront.

  "We will take a carriage from here to the Mage Tower nearby," says the mage. The carriage is spacious with plush seating and noise-cancelling, unlike the one we use at the farm.

  "Can I know your name, sir?" It has been bothering me that I know nothing about this person I have trusted everything to.

  "I apologize for not introducing myself. I am Kieran, son of Regis,” he replies with his patented smooth smile.

  "Kieran, how long will it take me to learn control?" I need to know how long till I can go back to the farm.

  "Well, that depends on how hard you work. I expect you can do it in five years." He shows me five fingers, emphasizing his point.

  "That's too long. I will do it in one so I can go back to Mumma by next summer." I challenge him.

  He laughs. It's a musical sound unlike his smooth voice. There is a natural roughness to it.

  "Will you also stay at the Mage Tower here?" I ask. He's the only person I know here. Not an ally, but a known quantity at least.

  "I will be at the Mage Tower frequently, but I am also needed at the battlefront. I will help you settle in,” he says assuringly.

  "Thank you," I reply and the conversation quiets down. There is not much else I need to know from him.

  I watch the landscape from the window. The sky here is darker. There is unmistakable smog in the air making the purple skies look muddy. The strangest sight is the translucent honeycomb-like shields materializing in mid-air. They absorb the magical missiles and disperse into sparkly fireworks. The sight is oddly beautiful. It reminds me of aerial defense systems protecting civilians. I can't hear anything in this insulated carriage, but I wonder what sound it makes.

  "What is that in the air?" I ask my source of all information, pointing at the sky as the golden dome catches another enemy missile.

  "That is what's protecting our great Kingdom from catastrophe. It detects and catches magical attacks by the enemy. This was even protecting your farm, although no attack made it that far for it to activate all the way inside the kingdom," he emphasizes. "You will help power this. You will protect this kingdom."

  My heart surges. I will protect my family from all this way. I will help protect everyone in the kingdom. Like my father is.

  By the time we arrive at the southern tower, the sun has set fully. The giant pitch-black tower at the peak of a cliff looks especially ominous against the sky flickering with enemy missiles. Kieran gets out first, then swiftly lifts and sets me down from the carriage.

  He moves briskly toward the tower and I follow. His entourage has mostly dispersed, leaving only the two who were driving the carriage. I wonder if the rest went to the warfront directly.

  The tower is a spartan place. The war hasn't left much space for indulgence, even for the mages it seems. My room is a small space with a bed, a desk, and a drawer. It is in a wing for women and the bathrooms are shared among the other residents. The tiny window is enough to make me thankful for the golden dome protecting us.

  Kieran puts my trunk next to the drawer.

  "Usually the meals are served communally on the first floor for apprentices," he says as food materializes on the table. It's a loaf of bread and tomato-bean stew. The aroma awakens the hunger I didn't realize I was suppressing.

  "Thank you."

  "Good night, Mira. I will make sure you get the supplies for writing a letter tomorrow," he says. Then stops.

  "You don't know how to read or write, right? I will inform the Master," and then he's gone.

  I sit alone in my room and eat my meal, watching the fireworks of death. Each sparkle is a missile that could have killed someone. The dome catches them one after another. It never stops or rests. Now that I am here, I know that neither can I.