To my shame I managed to keep a low profile for a week. I ignored the cries of starving people, telling myself the mission took priority. But with each passing day, the refugees grew more desperate.

  Bandits were a common occurrence now, even this close to the capital. The swelling population put unbearable pressure on food supplies. For people like us, bandits weren’t much of a problem, but for the ordinary folk, they were just one more scourge added to an already unbearable reality.

  Refugees congregated in makeshift camps out of necessity, hoping for safety in numbers. More often than not, the leaders of these camps turned into small-time warlords, resorting to pillaging just to keep their people alive. It was a cruel cycle of despair and hopelessness.

  The camp we passed today was smaller than others we’d seen, evidence that it had failed to even provide the bare minimum for its people. As we walked along the road, a little girl stood with a boy—her brother, perhaps—watching travelers pass by.

  I couldn’t even tell her age, maybe ten; her body was so thin and emaciated. A traveler ahead of us tossed a small piece of bread in their direction. The girl snatched it up immediately, but instead of eating it, she turned and handed it to the boy.

  That small act of selflessness broke something inside me. Tears welled up and spilled down my cheeks, unstoppable despite my futile attempts to regain control.

  I couldn’t walk away now even if I tried. Slowly, I made my way over to them.

  “We need to keep a low profile,” Amra said beside me, her tone reproachful. I ignored her. She’d lectured me all week about hiding my magic. Conjured food was a godsend in times like these. If anyone found out what I could do, the mob would make any stealth impossible.

  But I didn’t care anymore. Kneeling in front of the children, I waved my hand. A large loaf of bread appeared before the girl.

  She flinched at first, startled, but hunger quickly pushed aside any hesitation. Tentatively, she tasted it. Her eyes widened when she realized it was real and good. She tore the loaf in two and gave half to her brother.

  The two of them devoured the bread in moments. I conjured two more loaves, and this time, they ate slower, their hunger momentarily forgotten.

  Amra made urgent gestures for me to move on, and with reluctance, I turned to rejoin the group. Fate, however, had other plans.

  A quick glance back revealed a pair of adults rushing the children. One snatched the bread while the girl desperately fought to stop them. My heart sank as I saw her struck to the ground, her brother crying helplessly beside her.

  I watched the scene unfold, my fists clenching as anger swelling inside me. They wanted ruthless, didn’t they? My Lightning Bolt hit the man squarely, dropping him like a stone. The second thief managed a scream for help before I silenced him, a bitter satisfaction twisting in my chest.

  A few people near the entrance attacked, but hunger weakened them enough that they weren’t a threat to anyone. As I entered the camp, my eyes fell on the makeshift gallows standing in the center. Whatever compassion I still had melted away instantly.

  More people came charging, and these didn’t wear the gaunt desperation of the others. They must have been hoarding the food supplies. Unfortunately for them, they weren’t facing starving refugees this time. Their blows bounced harmlessly off my Mana Shield, and their lack of coordination kept them from trying to pin me down or surround me.

  I moved through their ranks with cold, unforgiving precision. For the first time, I didn’t bother holding back my spells. Then I saw him—their leader—easy to spot with his fine clothes and carefully styled hair. He wasn’t a fool, either. One look at his crumbling camp and he turned to flee.

  But I didn’t hesitate. Not anymore. A bolt struck him in the back, and he crumpled to the ground, motionless.

  With him gone, no one else dared challenge me. Some fled, others started looting, especially the leader’s tent, and a few simply cowered and hid.

  I looked at them, wanting to chide them for stooping so low. But what was the point? Words wouldn’t change anything. They needed more than a lecture.

  “What now?” Amra’s indifferent tone grated against my raw emotions. “Are you planning to lead them to new found prosperity?”

  I whirled on her, snapping, “Would you be so careless with their fates if they were elves?”

  “Elves would never sink to such lows,” she retorted, mirroring my thoughts, though Isla’s steadying hand on her shoulder cut her from continuing.

  “There are no easy solutions here,” Isla said softly, her gaze turning to the girl. “Are you planning to bring her with us? Children on our mission?”

  I exhaled heavily, my mind blank. I hadn’t thought that far ahead. Isla was right. If I left them here, they’d be blamed for my actions. But taking them with us?

  I hated this world and its cruel, impossible choices.

  With no clear solution presenting itself, I decided to buy more time. “Let’s camp nearby for the night,” I said.

  I half-expected arguments or protests, but to my surprise, none came. As my anger faded, I realized the best short-term course of action was to placate the remaining villagers. If no other solution appeared, at least I could hope the children wouldn’t be ostracized for my actions.

  My thoughts drifted to Alira. It seemed I had become ruthless more quickly than even she could have imagined. She would have found a solution... that’s it!

  I rushed to where the elves were tending to the two children. “I think I found a way to help them,” I announced, breathless.

  They turned to me, curious but silent, waiting for me to explain.

  “I can portal them to Alira’s villa. Her family has the means to help. They could give these kids a future.”

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  Isla’s expression hardened with skepticism. “It took ten mages to bring us here, and we’ve covered even more ground in the last week.”

  “We were five,” I said, glancing at the children. “They’re only two.” The memory of the mages’ exhaustion at the end lingered in my mind, but surely that had to make a difference.

  Turning to the girl, I softened my voice. “Where are your parents?”

  She didn’t respond at first, her gaze dropping to the ground. I feared I had only resurfaced more painful memories. But after a long silence, her tearful eyes rose to meet mine. “They were killed. It’s just me and my brother.”

  Amra spoke next, her tone full of doubt. “You seriously think you can open a portal that far on your own?”

  I met her gaze, determination hardening my resolve. “Guess we’re about to find out.”

  I still needed time to recover from the effort, so I sat down to write a letter to Alira explaining the situation. The elves, for their part, made no attempt to speak to the children, content to remain silent. The girl, however, kept stealing wary glances at the twins, her attempts to put on a brave face betrayed by the clear apprehension in her eyes.

  Soon, I would need her to step through a portal, an experience terrifying even for me, let alone someone who had never seen one before.

  With a slight gesture, I conjured a piece of chocolate, tore it in half, and offered it to the children. It looked strange, sure, but by now she trusted me enough to accept food. They hesitated at first but then took it, and by the end, I noticed faint smiles forming at the corners of their mouths.

  She looked like she wanted more, but I couldn’t risk expending more strength just yet. Instead, I asked softly, “What’s your name?”

  “Nadia,” she replied without hesitation.

  “Have you ever seen a portal, Nadia?”

  She shook her head.

  “It’s a way to travel great distances,” I explained gently. “This is no place for children. The portal will take you somewhere safe, away from the war. A friend of mine will be there, and she’ll help you. Your brother will be safe, I promise.”

  She nodded, though I couldn’t tell if she truly understood or simply agreed out of habit.

  I closed my eyes and focused, picturing the villa that had been my home for the past few months. Its inner courtyard formed vividly in my mind’s eye. At first, nothing happened. It felt as though a wall stood in my way, preventing me from piercing the vast fabric of space at such a great distance. The more I pushed, the more pain flared through me, like a burn radiating from within. It reminded me too much of the portal jump after the explosion at the golem factory, an unbearable sensation that left me shaken for days.

  From what little I understood, I was overloading the conduit my body used to access the aether. Was this a good or bad thing? I didn’t know. Maybe it was like a muscle, painful when overworked but ultimately stronger after healing. My increasing power after that ordeal hinted at such a possibility.

  Or perhaps it was like a wire exposed to extreme heat. Once melted, it couldn’t be fixed. Losing my powers entirely would fit that theory, too.

  That uncertainty was the only thing keeping me from pushing past my limits recklessly. But I couldn’t let it stop me here—not when I’d have to face a demi-god soon. Better to find out now than in the middle of a battle.

  With gritted teeth, I poured more power into it, and the wall finally started to give way. I felt the courtyard come into focus, as if it were just steps away. At the same time, white-hot pain erupted through me, every nerve in my body flaring to life. I couldn’t hold this for long.

  The next part was expanding it, stretching the tiny tear I’d created into something usable. Seconds passed like hours, but at last, the portal widened. It wasn’t huge, maybe too small for an adult to pass without crouching, but it would do.

  “Go now,” I muttered through gritted teeth. “One at a time… please.”

  Nadia hesitated, her gaze darting between me and the shimmering portal, but she must have seen the agony etched on my face. She rose, turned to her brother, and told him to stay put before stepping cautiously through the event horizon.

  The wave of weakness hit me harder than expected. My vision swam, and I fought to remain upright, though I knew I wouldn’t be able to to hang on with the next traveler.

  The pain clawed deeper into me, unbearable now, and I couldn’t even speak. The portal trembled as I struggled to hold it open. Isla must have realized I was losing the fight because she crouched by the boy and urged him to go.

  But he froze. Terrified of the glowing portal cutting through the dark night, he clung stubbornly to the spot. Nadia called for him too, her voice soft but urgent, but the boy wouldn’t move.

  The portal began to shrink as my strength gave out. Amra, ever decisive, grabbed the boy without ceremony, hauled him toward the portal, and before he could so much as protest, tossed him straight through it.

  I would’ve smiled if the world hadn’t gone black the next second.

  *****

  There was something about the sleep brought on by magical exhaustion that felt oddly restful. When Isla woke me, I was still a little groggy, but surprisingly, I felt great.

  “There’s an army contingent approaching,” Amra said, her tone dripping with disapproval. “You shouldn’t have interfered.”

  “You didn’t join in the attack, so just stay hidden. I might be able to talk my way out of it,” I replied, trying to sound confident.

  “And if you can’t?” Isla asked pointedly.

  I grinned, though the bitterness crept in. “Well, you’ll help me, of course. Or are you just here to watch?”

  “Fine,” she all but growled in response.

  “If I do make a good impression and we get separated, meet me at dusk in the central square—market, plaza, whatever they call it. Every day for a week. If I’m not there by then, assume the worst,” I instructed.

  Isla muttered something and waved her hands, crafting an illusion to keep her and Amra out of sight. The twins disappeared with their own methods of blending in. I splashed water on my face to clear the last of the drowsiness, conjured some food, and sat down to eat as casually as I could.

  The soldiers arrived not long after, closing the distance in formation. At their head rode a figure clad in polished black armor adorned with intricate yellow patterns—likely a noble. The rest were an organized mix of archers, melee fighters, and a handful of casters.

  After a brief inspection of the camp, the leader dismounted and strode toward me with a purposeful gait. His gaze was sharp, his tone authoritative. “Are you the mage responsible for the chaos at the camp?”

  “Yes,” I replied laconically, keeping my tone flat. I figured I’d play the role of a mercenary—detached, professional, and disinterested in anything but coin. Mercenaries could afford to have hearts, but only sometimes.

  “I could arrest you and have you hanged for killing loyal subjects of our lord and destroying his property,” he declared, voice cold and even.

  If he was truly serious, the order would already be given. This was a performance—testing me, probing to see if I could be useful.

  “The so-called subjects attacked me,” I said, maintaining my laid-back demeanor. “I merely defended myself. It’s not my fault they didn’t know to pick their battles.”

  His eyes narrowed, studying me with renewed interest. He was listening now, measuring me up. If there was anything I learned from documentaries about dictators is that they wanted like-minded people working for them, cruel, powerful but not too powerful to challenge them, smart but not smart enough to get ideas. It was a tightrope to walk on.

  “The reports say you dispatched the camp by yourself, without any real resistance,” he said carefully.

  I met his gaze directly. “They were no match for me,” I replied with just the right blend of modesty and bravado. “But let’s be honest—they were drunk, starving fools. That’s not saying much.”

  A flicker of amusement crossed his face before it vanished. He’d made up his mind. “Powerful mages are rare these days. The kingdom could use someone like you.”

  “I was already headed to the capital, so you don’t have to convince me,” I said smoothly. After a pause, I added, “I hope powerful mages are rewarded generously.”

  He gestured, and one of his aides brought a horse forward. Without another word, he swung into the saddle, motioning for me to follow. I didn’t hesitate, mounting the horse they’d provided.

  “Where are you from?” he asked, his tone casual but his interest evident.

  We’d prepared for this. “Ucanat,” I answered easily. It was a small kingdom not far from here, known for its civil wars and endless border disputes.

  “I heard they reached a truce,” he said.

  I nodded. “Truces are bad for business.”

  A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Well, there will be no truces here. That, I can promise you.”

  Amazon.