Listinia

Magic is a very strange thing.

Not everyone has it, and those that do may not be able to use it well. But usable or not, everyone in Asyntine has magic in their blood.

It all started with the war. What hasn't? The war controls our lives to the point where it is life. Maybe no one knows why we're still fighting, but the effects are prominent.

Humans are weak, defenseless creatures. If they are trained well enough, then sure, maybe they stand a chance. But they are still no match for those with magic. Apparently the humans were smart enough to figure this out when the battles began. So they started breeding with other people - fairies, elves, you know. Eventually, magic spread to everyone.

Today, no one even really knows what we are anymore. It's all just a big mesh of races. I know I'm mostly witch, due to blood testing, but I'm not completely sure about the others. I'm pretty sure I have every kind of ancestor possible. It's not that easy to tell for me. Dallav has it easy. I can tell by the greenish tint in his blond hair and the slightly elongated shape of his ears that he is of elven descent. The human in him also shows in his brown eyes. He has to be some other stuff too, because everyone is a mix of something, but those are the strongest in his blood. He doesn't even need blood testing done to tell most of it.

I'm good at telling what people are. Just look for the dainty hands and feet of a fairy or the dark hair of witches or the large nose of goblins. It's easy if you know how to do it.

That's why looking at this girl now is shocking to me. She doesn't look like anyone I've seen before.

"I don't think she's from our town," Dallav says.

"No shit," I mutter. I crouch down to inspect her. Her features are sharp and pointed, but not in a completely unpleasant way. I'm afraid to touch her, even though I know I will have to.

Luckily, Dal beats to me it. "She's cold."

"I would expect so," I say. I reach out to pick her up and find that her skin is like ice. She's so pale white that she might as well be an icicle. I was right - there is no chance of her living. I wonder how long she's been here.

"Okay, let's go," Dal says once we have her in a good position. I'm holding her upper half while he walks next to me, supporting her legs. She's not very heavy and we make it into town easily.

"I guess we should bring her to the elders," I say. Surely they'd locate her family. I look down at her face and feel a bit sick, wondering how a girl like this could have died. The area is supposed to be safe, after all. Maybe she had returned from battle and passed out before reaching the town. She doesn't have any weapons on her though, and there are no wounds. But she still could have died from a curse or something.

We carry the body into the House of Elders at the center of town. The air is warmer inside, as the fireplace is lit and there are candles everywhere. Being an elder seems like such an easy job. The little bell rings when we open the door, signaling for an elder to come.

"Who is this?" a woman asks as she rushes down the stairs. I've only seen her once before, and I recognize her as the elder of magic. Her hair has gone gray but she can't be extremely old, because I can tell she is predominantly elf. Elves don't live very long.

Dallav answers, "We found her in the woods, Elder..."

"Mistlelynn," she says. "Is she alive?"

"I don't believe so, Elder Mistlelynn."

Elder Mistlelynn walks over to us and I can see how short she is - definitely part elf. She gingerly places her fingers on the girl's wrist, checking for a pulse. She frowns and I can tell that there is nothing. "Well, there is no hope now. Bring her in here."

"Yes, Elder."

We bring her into a small room on the side of the stairs. There is a little cot in the corner and she motions for us to set the girl down there. We do so and step back, as our work is done. I get the feeling that this will not be the last time we will encounter something like this, especially once we're twenty.

"Wait here," Elder Mistlelynn says, motioning for us to sit in the front hall. "The other elders will want to know about this."

We sit down and I stare into the fire. I notice that above the mantle, there is a silver plaque that reads The Elders of Sylvidian. I wonder if every town has the same thing.

"Arden," Dal says. "Are you okay?"

"Huh?" I say, peeling my eyes off of the fireplace. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"You sure? You haven't said a word since we've gotten here."

"Yeah I'm sure." To be honest, I'm not really the talkative type. Or a people person at all, like him. But I guess it's still too weird if I don't say anything at all.

"It'll be okay," he says, although I'm not really sure what he means.

"Come up here," Elder Mistlelynn's voice calls from somewhere upstairs. We get up and start walking up the long, curved stairway. The source of her voice leads to a room with two desks and about a million books stacked on the shelves. "I've told the other elders about the girl, and we need a picture of her for identification."

"What will happen to her, Elder?" Dal asks.

"We will most likely keep her here until we figure out who she is." She hands him a little square of a smooth transparent material. "You do know how to use this, right?"

"Yes, Elder."

"Good. Now go and get a picture of her and bring it back here to me."

Obediently, we turn and go back downstairs. I recognize the object she gave Dal as a larawan, a device used to take pictures. Whatever you can see directly through its glassy surface will be captured.

When we get to the door, Dal asks, "Do you want to do it or should I?"

"You can do it," I say. For some reason, I don't want to see the body again. Something about this all just isn't right.

He goes into the room and I lean against the wall outside the door. I don't expect it to take too long, because Dal probably wouldn't care about the angle or how clear the shot is like I would. He says I worry too much about things being perfect, but I think he doesn't care enough.

Instead, he comes back in a few seconds. His face is as white as the girl had been and his eyes are filled with fear. "What?" I ask.

"The girl. Her body. She's gone."