Month 1 Week 1

The Matriarchy – The Matriarchal Palace

Attricia winced as the Magi slapped Dara across the face. It was…well…it wasn’tgentle. This was the third test in three days. Wherever Dara’s magic was from, it wasn’t working the way any known magic worked. She didn’t take energy from her surroundings or others like a Necromancer. She most certainly couldn’t actually seduce a man and make his soul her plaything the way the Witches of the Priestess Isles could. And, the Magi had determined that she definitely had magic of the Ordered, branch…so it ruled out the possibility that her mother had been a Chaos Mage.

“Grandmother,” Attricia flinched as a Magi gut-punched Dara to see if her self-defense magic would kick in. It did not. As of yet, there had been only one thing that triggered her magic. “This isn’t necessary. I believe her. I know my husband is a lecherous cretin. In fact, we can use this incident as a justification for the divorce you wanted me to get.” Below, the Magi stood back from the coughing bent-over figure of her brother’s daughter who was closer in age to Attricia than the girl’s father had been.

“Go ahead.” Matriarch Larel signaled the Magi heading the inquisition to start the final phase of the testing.

“Are you certain you want to put her through this aga-?” He silenced himself as the Matriarch’s cold glare cut through him.

“We have to be certain.” Her reply fell like ice over the trembling girl in the middle of the room. “Send them in.”

“Them?” Attricia gasped sharply. She looked with horror over the impassive face of her grandmother. “She could barely handle one in the first two tests.”

“We have to be certain.” Was the Matriarch’s quiet reply. “It’s the only way to prove she is neither Necromancer nor Witch.” The heir to the throne felt her bile rise and she turned to…flee the sight she was about to see…or to help her niece who had always been more like a younger sister?

“Sit.” The Matriarch commanded, and her personal guards, all females, menaced Attricia silently. “You brought that monster of a husband into our family, the least you can do is watch what Dara has to endure because of him.” So Attricia sat, stone-faced as her grandmother. A line of male prisoners, five in total, were ushered into the testing chamber. Rape was not looked fondly upon in a country ruled by women and when caught, those men spent a very long time in prison. These had been some of the worst of the lot. The guards escorting them released them from their chains.

“You’ve heard why you are here.” Matriarch detested speaking with loathsome creatures such as these. “This woman has magic. We are testing this woman to see if she has the power of a witch, a necromancer, or a Mage. She must defend herself from you. If she cannot, you can have her. Now, and forever. If she fails to produce the magic she claims to have under the circumstances she claims triggers it, or if her magic is not sufficient to fight you all off, she will return with you to your prison for you to have whenever you wish.”

Dara paled as she heard the words spoken. On the previous two days of testing, she’d only had to fend off one man each time. Neither of those men was present here now. Probably because they were both likely still recovering from their wounds. Five was a lot. Maybe more than her magic could handle.

But she’d figured something out yesterday as she had struggled with the man attacking her gleefully. He’d been relishing the fact that he could do what he was about to do in front of an audience, and she’d been dodging and weaving and striking back at him physically. Yet, she hadn’t felt even the tiniest smidgeon stirring of her magic until she thought he was winning. Not until her mind knew that she couldn’t win this fight with her body did her magic finally rear its ugly head up with a vengeance.

So, she had to let them win. She had to make it look good of course. Make them not so wary of her that they didn’t try anything, or that they tried to knock her unconscious. No, she had to make them want to hunt her for the fun of it, and then when she was pinned and down and they thought they had won, then her magic would save her.

She got herself into a crouch, a fighting stance she half-remembered from a self-defense class years ago. And the leering group moved in. One lashed out and snagged her top, tearing the buttons off and exposing her breasts in their corset. Laughter ensued. Someone made an obscene comment she couldn’t fully hear. And then she ran, dodging and weaving and twisting out of grasps until she had been cornered and snared and couldn’t run.

The grips of the savages dug into bruises from the previous days’ tests. Someone’s hand got too close to her mouth and she bit it. To her great surprise, someone bit her back, eliciting a scream as teeth dug into her shoulder. But it had been enough to make her magic stir from its slumber. Deep in her belly, behind her navel she felt it growing. Not yet though. It was awake but not going to work for her yet. Lazy bastard.

Someone else was ripping off her corset as filthy mouths moved over her flesh. Still, her magic waited. Then a hand started its way up her thigh and the ball of disgust in her belly worked its way up with a ripple of laughter. Her attackers froze.

“You like that?” One asked perplexed, and Dara kept laughing.

“Oh no. I very much do not like that.” A wave of power ripped out of her body throwing the men across the room with crushing force. Those disgusting perverts were going to die.

“Stop her!” The Matriarch shouted. “We need to see if they survived the initial wave of magic this time, to verify she’s not a Necromancer.” Annoying mosquito bites dug into the exposed flesh of her torso and her white-hot rage was dulled a little. She was very tired suddenly. Magic had never made her this tired before. And those things biting her were very uncomfortable. Her body sagged with exhaustion as her knees hit the hard marble floor.

“Hush, hush, child.” A warm, something, wrapped around her, and the bitey things were removed.

“They live!” A shout came from across the room, a group of guards and Magi beside the bodies of the men she had thrown there hazily beyond her reach.

“She is not a Necromancer.”

“They…must…die…” Dara countered feebly. Yet she was so tired. Maybe she could take a nap first and then kill those cretins.

“Hush child.” It was the kindly voice of the Chief Magi. “You are safe from them now. You are safe now. The test is done. You have passed.”

Inheritance

Tested By the Magi