The River of Magic

The River ran backwards on the day the Queen vanished.

Lux sat in their window in the highest turret of the castle. They had the best view of the surrounding rolling green hills and forests. With the wind in their hair and the sun warming their skin, it was so easy to feel at peace here, to just be.

From within, Marnie called out, “Milady Rebecca! Please come down before you fall!”

Lux rolled their eyes, but did as Marnie asked. They said tiredly, “It’s Lux.”

“My apologies, Lux. It’s just that I’ve known you for longer as Rebecca than I have as Lux.”

Lux knew she meant well, and besides, they had so few friends in the castle, they couldn’t afford to alienate any. So they just nodded. Marnie was holding something in her hand.

“What is it Marnie?”

“His Majesty just sent out this proclamation, you deserve to know.” Marnie handed Lux a scroll.

Lux read it, the blood draining from their face. They felt a buzzing in their head.

“Marnie, can you give me some space? I need to think.”

“Of course,” Marnie looked worried. “I’ll be in your sitting room if you need me.

Lux just nodded, already lost in thought.

The River, the conduit of Magic, flowed freely to the people of Artica for over five thousand years before the Reversal. The ability to Draw from the River was hereditary, and after so many generations, most of the population were Magic users. Mages were the majority, and those without the ability to Draw were labeled Mechanicals.

Most Mechs lived in their own separate cities and towns. Those who chose to live with the Mages or who had the misfortune of being born a Mech to Magical parents were pitied and scorned. It was illegal for a Mage to marry a Mech, for fear of diluting the Magical bloodlines. A thousand years ago, the Royal family had risen to power, their ability to Draw from the River unmatched throughout the land. Over the last millennium those with rare Magical gifts were chosen as mates for the Royal family. The King had chosen the Queen because of her gift for healing.

Lux knew first hand the power of their mother’s gift. She’d always gotten to her children first whenever they were injured, somehow faster in her pretty dresses than any of the court healers or guards. Broken bones from falling out of trees, cuts from sparring with their brothers in the courtyard.

Lux shut their eyes remembering the one thing their mother wouldn’t heal.

“Mother, I don’t think I’m a girl.”

Their mother didn’t look surprised or upset the way they’d worried she would.

“Do you think you’re a boy?”

“No, I guess I feel like I’m some girl, some boy, but mostly just me. Does that mean there’s something wrong with me? Can you heal me?”

“Oh my sweet Rebecca, there’s nothing wrong with you. You’re perfect just the way you are.”

Lux’s eyes were wet when they opened them. Life at the castle had not been easy after figuring out they were neither girl or boy, but they’d always had their mother’s support and love.

The last month without their mother revealed just how much she’d protected Lux. While dealing with all the grief and worry, they’d also dealt with snide comments, smug or disgusted looks, and worse, their father, the King. Before, he hadn’t seemed to care one way or the other, but with the disappearance of the Queen, he’d started ordering them to wear dresses more, to get over this “phase.” He would say things like, “You must assume your duties and responsibilities as the woman of the family.” As if anyone could replace Lux’s mother.

Accounts from the day the Queen vanished varied. Some said she caused the River's Reversal by attempting a forbidden spell. Others said she was merely the first victim. Everyone agreed however, that her disappearance and the Reversal were linked. The Reversal happened simultaneously in every part of the kingdom, and presumably in the lands beyond.

Where the River had previously been an infinite source of Magical energy, it now drained the life of anyone who tried to Draw from it. A small spell would only age the user by a week or so, but larger more complex spells aged the users by years.

Some Mages went mad. Being able to feel the River, but knowing they couldn't Draw from it was too much for some to bear. Some purposefully released themselves to the River, turning to dust in front of their horrified loved ones. Some made the conscious choice to use their final Magical act for the greater good. Healing a sick child, growing a season's worth of crops for their village, diverting a flooding river. Within a month, a quarter of the population was dead or turned to dust.

Some could not give up their small spells. Daily glamours, cooking and cleaning spells, and spells to perform a myriad of other crafts and skills that had been forgotten by the Mages over time. The elderly now outnumbered the middle aged and youth in every Mage city and town.

The castle was not immune to these effects. Even as the King and all in the castle grieved, they were still the guiding force of the kingdom, and the King and his advisors knew they must do something. In Lux’s hands, they held a copy of the King’s Royal Proclamation, one of hundreds now making their way to each part of the kingdom.

Use of Magic was forbidden. There was no attached punishment, as the aging was considered punishment enough. Anyone with information on the Reversal was offered a reward of gold. And finally, to the Mage who undid the Reversal, who cured the River, the King offered his only daughter's hand in marriage.

Lux’s stomach clenched at the thought of being married off to some strange man. Would he be young or old. Would he be kind? Lux didn’t even know if they liked men. They knew they couldn’t live this way. They had to escape.

***

As a Mech, Raven found herself suddenly in high demand. Before the Reversal, the clothing store she worked in usually only saw a few customers a day, all Mechs. This morning, when she opened the door, a line of waiting customers filed in. She could tell they were Mages instantly. Dresses and jackets with impractical outlines, made possible by Magic, were now drooping limply, faded marks where stains had been glamoured over, and holes that a tailor mage hadn't bothered to fill with real thread.

"Don't you have anything less... drab?"

"This shirt is too baggy."

"I can't believe what you Mechs are charging for this load of cow manure. If I had my Magic, I could make a dress a thousand times more beautiful in less than a day.”

Many more of the Mages quietly perused the options, dead-eyed, just another mindless chore to perform, necessary for survival. They picked up the first serviceable outfit they could find, paid, and left.

Raven found herself arguing with one customer who was gripping the life out of a sky blue linen tunic.

“I don’t understand why this is so expensive. It’s just one tunic.”

Raven sighed, she’d had this argument so often the last week that she didn’t even have to think about her response.

“Do you have any wool or flax to trade? Any spun yarn or thread?”

“No, why would I have any of that?”

“Many who live around here grow flax or care for sheep, or spin yarn in their free time. Much of our cloth comes from their goods, and we can reduce the price of our clothes if we get something in return.”

“Well we have sheep, but we usually just…” The customer waved her hands in the air, indicating a well-used spell to shear and clean a fleece. “And then have the tailor mage do the rest.”

At her hand waving, everyone nearby took a frightened step back. The customer went white. “I didn’t… I wasn’t…” The poor linen tunic was a wrinkled mess in her wringing hands. “Here.” The customer shoved some coins at Raven and ran out the door.

Raven sighed. Another satisfied customer. Over the next hour, she managed to clear out the rest, and went back to the attached workroom to see Leona, the owner.

Leona was spinning, one foot rhythmically working the treadle, her hands gracefully guiding the yarn into thread and onto the bobbin. Her hair, the golden color of ripe flax, shone in the light from the window.

When Raven had come to this Mech town as a young teen a few years ago, she’d been bewitched by that hair. The way it shone like gold in candlelight, the way it floated and fell when Leona tossed back her head.

Leona, a childless widower, had taken her in. At the time she said she needed someone to work the store while she created the clothing, but Raven knew she’d only said that to save a young teen's pride. And she loved her for that. In just a few years, they were the family neither of them knew they needed.

”Leona, we’re going to need to hire another spinner or weaver if business keeps going this way.”

“Yes, it's been a month, and they haven't figured out how to restore the River. Mages will need to learn all the skills they abandoned long ago if they want to survive." Leona didn't look up from her spinning, and didn't see the storm cloud that passed over Raven's face.

Maybe the world would be better if all the Mages didn't survive. Raven was shocked at the hatred in her thought. Leona had helped her process a lot of her past, but some of it still remained. She might always bear this invisible scar.

A knock sounded at the door. Leona looked up, and Raven guessed some of her inner turmoil still showed as the spinning wheel stopped, and Leona said, "I'll get it."

Raven pulled a spindle out of her pocket, a gift from Leona. The spindle was just a couple bits of wood, a rod with a disc near the top, and a hook in the top of the rod above that. The spindle was half full with a yarn that was mostly smooth, connected to a wad of wool above. Just seeing it made her feel calmer. Raven started spinning where she stood. Flicking the spindle to start it spinning, then drawing out the wool into a thin strand, letting the twist enter and then moving on to the next draw. Pausing to wind onto the shaft when the spindle neared the ground. Within a few minutes, her breathing slowed, her mind quieted. The rage, the hatred, was still there, but she didn't have to be consumed by it. Another deep breath. She tucked the spindle back in her pocket and went to join Leona.

A Royal guard was rolling up a scrap of parchment, avoiding eye contact with Leona, he glanced over at Raven when she entered and settled his glance on some imaginary point beyond her shoulder. “I’ll wait for you outside.”

He closed the door behind him, and Raven looked to Leona for an explanation. Leona’s face was guarded. Raven couldn’t tell if she was angry, or scared, or upset. But she was definitely hiding something.

“The King has offered his daughter’s hand in marriage to the Mage who can undo the River’s Reversal. He wants us to create a wardrobe for her, for the future Queen.”

“Why us? We don’t exactly make palace finery.” Raven waved a hand at the mostly neutral, completely practical wares.

“We’re the closest Mech village to the Palace.” Leona looked down at the end of her statement.

This was true, but Raven could tell Leona was hiding something.

“We need to pack. Would you grab the sewing kit from the house?” Leona was already gathering bolts of fabric, spools of ribbon, her favorite shears.

Most of their work occurred in the shop, but Leona and Raven would often spend the time after dinner sewing and stitching by lantern light.

Raven fetched the sewing kit, some thread, and as she passed a basket of carded wool, filled a bag with as much fiber as she could fit. If the next couple of days were going to be stressful, she did not want to run out of wool for her spindle. Leona had taught her the basics of weaving, sewing, knitting, and hook work, but the spindle was the easiest to bring along.

The carriage waiting outside was almost packed by the time Raven got back.

“Nan is going to watch the shop while we’re gone.”

Raven nodded and climbed in the waiting carriage. Nan, an old woman who lived nearby, wasn’t much of a spinner, her lumpy thick yarn could only be used for rugs, but she made the best meat pies in all of Artica.

The ride to the palace was long enough for Raven’s anxiety to fully take shape. The thought of being around so many Mages, even if none of them could use magic filled her with dread. Leona, mostly lost in thought herself, draped a protective arm around Raven’s shoulders.

“It’s going to be ok.”

Raven just sighed and leaned back against Leona. Gratitude for this woman who was more mother to her than her birth mother, flooded her heart, chasing away the anxieties.

At the palace, they were shown into the great hall. The King was talking to a group of advisors. The herald waited until the advisors went off at a trot, gesturing for Leona and Raven to approach the throne. The King stood and stepped down from his dais. "Leona, thank you for coming."

Raven was shocked to see the King informally embrace Leona in a hug, and to see Leona return the hug. The King looked up to see another enter the hall. "Ah, Leona, this is my daughter, Rebecca."

Raven guessed the Princess was her age, she had blonde hair, exactly the same shade as Leona's, she noticed, but cut short, like a boy's. She was looking down, it was obvious she'd been crying.

"Rebecca," The King's voice held admonishment, but also sadness, and a guarded affection.

The Princess looked up, and gasped in shock.

"This is your aunt Leona, your Mother's sister."