Marked by magic

It was a good day. There were only a few rolls and a loaf of bread left. Yenlett locked them in the cupboard. Maybe someone would come today, and if they can't, they'll come back tomorrow. She started sweeping. There were a lot of floury traces on the wooden floor. She wanted to leave as soon as possible, but her mother would kill her if she didn't clean the bakery. As always, she'd probably be back from the market soon. Yenlettee cleaned up and went upstairs to change. She didn't intend to leave until her mother returned in case she needed help. She glanced at the hourglass when she heard the door downstairs.

"Yenn!" the woman shouted after entering.

The girl ran downstairs.

"How was your day?" the woman asked, seeing the girl smiling.

"Very good. We're making more money than yesterday. And you?

" "As you can see," the woman said, pointing to the baskets they always used to carry the bread. "

There are only three loaves left, two croissants, and five rolls. Even Gamir didn't have to help me carry this, so I dismissed him early.

" "Did you carry these baskets yourself?

" "Well, well, no wonder. Your mother isn't that old yet.

" "I know, Mom," the girl hugged her mother.

"Okay, but that doesn't mean she doesn't need to rest. I'm going to wash up and get some sleep. You can leave until evening, just be back before dusk.

" "Okay."

- Aha. - Jezebel turned to her daughter. - Two loaves and you can take these rolls to the usual place.

The girl smiled and reached for the bag hanging by the door. She put the bread in it and left. The sun was blazing down. It set later this time of year, so Yenlette still had plenty of time before dusk. She tilted her fifteen-year-old face toward it. She needed some warmth. She shook herself and set off down the cobblestone street. On the opposite side of the street, the door of an inn opened, and two guards emerged. Their breastplates gleamed in the sun. In the center was the dark blue mark of Garath. They weren't drunk. They weren't allowed to drink on duty, and if any of them broke the ban, they would probably regret it for the rest of their lives. Sober, perhaps even worse. Yenlette automatically lowered her head, hiding her face. Her beauty could only cause trouble. She was pretty, very pretty. With blond hair and large brown eyes, she could attract any man. Perhaps in normal times, that would be a plus, but now it could bring her trouble. Moreover, more and more girls had been disappearing lately. The guards passed without a glance across the street.

The girl straightened. She breathed a sigh of relief, thinking they were just guards and not one of Garath's knights. They were a hundred times worse, and their privileges gave them too much power. She turned onto an alley leading to a poorer street.

She wondered if things would ever get better, but there was no sign of it. She had never known better times, and it probably would never be that way. She had only heard of them from stories told by her mother and other residents. They had been under occupation for thirteen years, and she couldn't remember what it was like before. She had been two years old when the war broke out, in which her father died. A war her country had been powerless to resist.

In their land, there was no such thing as magic. Magic was considered evil and associated with dark entities. When the occasional appearance of those involved in sorcery always led to a difficult life. It was believed that those marked by magic sought only power and authority. However, those marked by magic appeared infrequently, and if one misbehaved, the king ordered their removal. This was until thirteen years ago, when Garath appeared. The most powerful magic user her land had encountered. He appeared out of nowhere and, after a short battle, crushed the defending army. He himself took the throne and began his rule. It couldn't be said that he debased the nation. No. He held power, but he didn't oppress the people; in fact, he cared little for them. Unless someone violated his will, then he punished them cruelly. However, as long as they remained silent, obeying his commands, he didn't care about their lives. Such indifference to the lives of his subjects had its drawbacks. It gave too much freedom to the governors of individual cities. Garath placed his trusted knights in these positions, and they, in turn, were quite cruel. They took whatever they wanted without caring. Everyone knew that Garath himself liked to abduct young girls. More than one had already disappeared on his orders, whether for magical experiments he was conducting or for purposes Yenn didn't even want to consider. Garath himself posed no threat to her city, as it was quite a distance from the capital. However, she lived in the second-largest city. For this reason, Garath placed his general, Tywalg, in command. Tywalg was worse than his master. Everyone knew he was a pervert and a sadist. That's why Yenlette's mother always wanted her back before dark. Meanwhile, Tywalg's men were busy fulfilling his perverted whims. So far, Yenlette had been lucky and had never been noticed by the wrong people. She couldn't complain, because life wasn't so bad. Her father had left them the bakery, and that's always necessary. After the war, Garath's knights believed Jezebel's husband had already died and didn't bother her family. They came every day to buy bread for their lord and never left without paying. Yenlette never showed up, and as long as Jezebel provided them with bread, they didn't harass them in any way. The remaining bread sold well, so mother and daughter could live peacefully and give the surplus to the hungry.

The girl found herself in a shady alley. She knew where she was going, and here she didn't have to fear. After a few steps, she encountered the first of the beggars. She crouched down and handed him one of the rolls.

"Here, Migar, enjoy your meal," the old man thanked her with a smile.

She stood up and continued walking. The stench of filth intensified, and she began breathing through her mouth. She stopped on a cobbled square, perhaps three meters square. A chest stood against one wall. She walked over to it and unloaded the contents of her bag.

"I have a little less today, but I hope you'll share somehow," she said

into the air. "Enjoy your meal," she finished and turned back. She didn't have to wait for a reaction; she knew they'd heard her. Indeed, before she'd even turned the corner, the poor had poured out of the alleys leading to the square. She'd once waited, wanting to ration them out so they wouldn't fight, but now she'd long since realized she didn't have to worry. They always shared fairly. In times like these, they weren't greedy or possessive. They shared equally and cared for each other. Sometimes she stayed and talked to some, like Migar, but not today. Lately, she'd had a lot of contact with poverty and poverty, so she needed a rest. She headed toward the market square, where she'd arranged to meet her friends.

Taffin and Melea were already there. The three of them headed for the city gate. Outside the walls, none of them had to worry about guards or knights. They spent their time in the meadows and nearby forest. There were several farms here, belonging to people who bred horses. Today they headed to Katres's farm. He still had a few horses left that Garath's men hadn't commandeered. Three stallions and four mares were grazing in the paddock. Yenlette's group jumped the fence without hesitation. The horses had long been accustomed to their company, so they even allowed themselves to be mounted. Taffin caught up with a hazel-colored stallion named Hairy and jumped onto his back.

"He's mine today," he announced, settling himself on his back.

"Take him," Melea retorted. "Hairy is so old he can barely move. We'll take something more active." Right, Yenn?

"Oh, of course," she agreed with her friend, and they both headed to the mares.

The days passed in simple amusement. Everyone knew they were old enough to do something else, but they needed to somehow decompress from the day and from life in the city. Taffin was a merchant's son, and all he needed to know was how to trade, and that was what he did. Melea and Yenlette, however, should be thinking about marriage now. Especially Yenlette, who herself and her mother could use some male assistance. Yenn, however, had a discerning taste in the opposite sex and hadn't yet met anyone worth her attention. Her mother hadn't pressed her yet, so Yenn still had time to find a husband. They both lived their lives alone, enjoying every little joy in life. They enjoyed their daily lives, trying to forget about the occupation.

Nothing changed until one day a few weeks later, at the turn of summer and autumn.

"Yenn, Yenn!"

Taffin's scream woke her from her sleep. She groaned as she heard another scream. It was Sunday, and that idiot was shouting outside the house. She got up and opened the window.

"What do you want? "

At that moment, Jezebel peeked out from the next window.

"It's started!" Taffin announced.

"Slowly, what's started?" Jezebel asked.

"There's a fight outside the city. Melea is already waiting for us there.

" "Start talking to people. Who's fighting and what's going on?"

Taffin took a breath.

"Tywalg has deployed his entire army outside the city. I don't know how it started, because it all exploded suddenly, but whoever is attacking Tywalg is currently crushing his army.

" "Are they attacking Tywalg?

" "Yes!!!! And I'm going to see it." He turned around, but before running, he yelled, "Melea and I will be at the gate."

Yenlette and her mother dressed in a hurry. They ran down the stairs, nearly killing each other. The sun was already above the horizon, so it was quite bright. People were rushing out of their houses and heading for the city gates. Mother and daughter also hurried in that direction. They arrived in less than ten minutes. The gate was packed with people. The walls were no better.

"Why is it so quiet?" Jezebel asked.

Only now did Yenlette notice. Whatever was happening in the field before the city had the entire audience transfixed.

"Yenn!"

The girl looked in the direction of her call. Melea and Taffin stood just above the gate, their parents keeping them a little space. Tywalg and two knights stood less than two or three meters away. Only next to him was a bit of space. Yenlette had never been this close to him, but now she didn't care. Besides, it seemed like everyone on the wall. They climbed the stairs in seconds. They squeezed through to their friends. Before Yenlette could turn her gaze to the battlefield, a boom was heard, followed a second later. Yenn began scanning what was happening in front of the city. About a hundred of Tywalg's men were swarming in the center of the field, and another hundred, apparently dead, lay closer to the forest. Another fifty or so stood ready for battle near the gate, and behind them were two rows of crossbowmen. Two more booms rang out. Yenlette began searching for the opposing army, but she couldn't see anyone but Tywalg's soldiers. She focused her gaze on a point in the tangle and finally spotted them. A single man, dressed in what looked like leather, sword in hand, fighting a dozen or so soldiers. The blows of his opponents barely reached him. Even from this distance, the force of his blows was evident. Each blow severed a head, an arm, and at one point, even cut the entire man in half. It was as if they weren't wearing armor. One man? Another bang rang out. But from a different direction than the stranger was fighting. Yenn looked there and spotted another figure. A woman with red hair and clothing similar to the stranger's. She was fighting alone against a smaller group of attackers than her companion. However, she had no weapon. At one point, she held out her left hand. She held a small black object in it, aimed it at one of the attackers, a bang sounded, and the man fell to the ground dead.

"It's impossible," whispered one of the soldiers next to the general.

"I've never seen anything like this," came Tywalg's reply.

"I insist you evacuate."

- No, I have never run away from a battlefield and I have no intention of doing so.

After these words, the conversation fell silent, and everyone continued to watch. Yenlette had to admit that, though a pig, Tywalg was no coward. She glanced at him. He was pale, a testament to how truly terrified he was. She returned to observing the field. The number of soldiers dwindled with each passing moment. Their blows seemed to be hitting their mark, yet they left no impression on the stranger. After a moment, it became apparent that both of the newcomers were making a similar gesture. They would hold out their hand, and the person or group targeted would be pushed back by an invisible force. Telekinesis. So the newcomers used magic, one could guess, but none of the magic-infused warriors would stand alone against an army. Whoever they were, they were a greater force than Garath himself. The fighting continued, the soldiers rushing at the stranger in groups of three or five, until they finally came to their senses, surrounded him, and threw the entire pack. The stranger used telekinesis to throw three of them, but didn't manage to do anything more. He disappeared under the onslaught of enemies. A second passed, and Yenn began to think it was over; two more seconds passed, and only the woman remained on the field. When suddenly, a loud shhhhhhhh ripped through the air. A dome of fire erupted from the spot where the stranger had disappeared. The flames ripped Garath's soldiers from the ground and threw them several meters away. The men screamed in pain from their burning flesh. In the center of the fire, within a scorched circle at least five meters in diameter, stood the stranger. He dusted himself off, then assumed a fighting stance. Silence fell on the field; only the wounded groaned. The soldiers took a step away from the strangers. The woman shouted something to her companion, he answered her and roared with laughter. Yenn didn't know what they were saying, as it was in some foreign language. The stranger stopped laughing and, head bowed, took two steps forward. This was the last straw; Tywalg's soldiers made a tactical about-face and fled. The group attacking the woman was no worse off and also began to retreat. The soldier who was Tywalg's right-hand man began shouting at them, but it was to no avail.

"Leave it alone," Tywalg advised.

Only the crossbowmen remained on the field. They looked as if they were about to start retreating as well, but the general's roar stopped them.

"Crossbowmen! Prepare to fire!"

Two rows obediently obeyed. The first row kneeled, the second standing just behind. They aimed their crossbows forward. Meanwhile, the stranger slowly made her way towards her companion, who stood politely, waiting to see what would happen next.

- Only aim at the man! - Tywalg shouted.

The crossbowmen made the necessary adjustments. At Tywalg's words, the stranger reacted as well. He shouted something to the woman, who responded and ran up to stand right behind him. He himself stood with his legs slightly spread apart. He raised both arms in front of him, clasped them together, sword pointed upward, and bowed his head, waiting.

"On my command!" Everyone held their breath. "Fire!"

The crossbow strings whistled, and the stranger simultaneously spread his arms in a wide arc backward. The bolts, which should have hit their target, changed direction a few centimeters in front of him and flew to either side of the newcomers.

"Impossible," Tywalg groaned.

Meanwhile, the stranger, without waiting for the archers to reload, launched himself into the attack. At full speed, he drove into the rows of crossbowmen. Some tried to defend themselves, but most scattered.

"Close the gate!" Tywalg yelled. Despite everything, he still thought like a commander.

The gate, or rather the portcullis itself, for there was no gate in the city, fell with a clatter a few seconds later. The delay must have been due to the presence of the crowd standing within.

"He can't overcome a portcullis weighing several tons by himself," Tywalg stated with conviction.

Everyone watched as the aggressor finished off the last of the soldiers within his reach. The woman slowly approached him and the gate. A half-turn, and the sword's blade smoothly decapitated the crossbowman. That was the last. The stranger looked around. Seeing no one else, he crouched and wiped the blade of his sword on the leather armor of his latest victim. He looked up. He took a few steps, looking directly at Tywalg. Now he could clearly see what had previously only seemed. The stranger's eyes were unusual. In fact, they had no pupils at all; they were completely white, with a light mist seeping from the corners. He stood against the wall. Tywalg, gaining confidence from the distance separating them, cleared his throat and emerged.

"Who are you!?" he shouted at the stranger, placing his hands on the edge of the wall. A moment

later, he almost fell back in panic. The stranger hung in the air right in front of Tywalg. Everyone around him also recoiled in terror.

"Your death," the stranger replied to the question, then extended his left hand and

He flew at his opponent. He pushed Tywalg beyond the wall and, still pressing, sent him plummeting. He literally buried the general in the cobblestone street. The stones buckled and shattered. If it weren't for the necklace's protective spells, the general wouldn't have survived. They'd plowed through a good few meters. Stopping, still on top of his opponent, the stranger raised his sword in his right hand, intending to deliver the final blow. He held it steady with his other hand and aimed for his opponent's head. The blade plunged just past the general's ear, who still hadn't lost his fighting spirit and managed to pull away. Then he grabbed the stranger by the shoulders, placed a knee on his stomach, and threw him behind him. They both stood at the same time. They were less than three meters apart. Seizing the moment, Yenn jumped down from the ramparts onto the wagon parked below them to get closer. Her friends followed.

The stranger stood calmly, sword lowered, while Tywalg assumed a fighting stance. He was now fighting for his life and clearly had no intention of giving up.

"I repeat the question, who are you?" he yelled.

"I think I've already given you the answer, and now I'll just fulfill it and we're even." The stranger concluded his statement with a broad smile.

Tywalg snorted and, contrary to what the crowd expected, launched himself into the attack. The stranger parried the blows with apparent ease. Tywalg moved around his opponent, trying to attack from the side, so the stranger also turned slightly each time. As a result, they switched positions, and now the Stranger stood with his back to the city gates. The general jumped back a few steps. For a second, Yenn thought he glanced to the side.

"This seems like a good time," he said, then glanced again, at something behind the stranger.

Yenn's gaze followed and she saw what was going on. In the shadows between two buildings stood one of the soldiers with the general. He held a crossbow in his hand, which he calmly aimed. Yenn wanted to shout something, but she couldn't. The bolt whistled and... stopped just short of its target, then fell to the ground. At that moment, Yenn felt a strange presence beside her. The stranger's companion stood nearby. She was the one who stopped the bolt. She waved a finger at the crossbowman, then quickly pointed it at the wall by the gate. The telekinetic force lifted the soldier and threw him "after the finger." The speed and force were so great that he punched a large hole in the wall. After a moment, he fell dead to the cobblestones.

The stranger said something in a foreign language, to which his partner responded, crossing her arms in anticipation. The stranger turned to the general.

"You're truly asking for death."

The general cursed violently and grabbed the medallion around his neck.

"Mahtar fehtani," he muttered, extending one hand in front of him. A fireball shot from his hand.

The stranger stuck out his hand as well, and the ball sputtered into the air.

"Mahtar k'al hag!" This time, a torrent of flame erupted from his hand, engulfing

the stranger. Those closest to him jumped back to avoid being burned. The stranger vanished in the flames for a good few seconds. Tywalg dropped his hand, exhausted by the spell. The fire vanished, and it turned out the stranger was standing there, head tilted toward the rising sun, as if nothing had happened.

"Oh, the warmth," he sighed.

Yenn smiled involuntarily, and the stranger's companion also laughed softly. The stranger turned his white eyes on his opponent.

"Time to die," he said, and charged forward. He did so quickly that the general

parried the blow at the last moment. The blows fell one after another. Even with the amulet, Tywalg could barely block them. Finally, the stranger grabbed his sword with both hands and struck vertically downward. One blow bounced off his opponent's sword, the second the same, but Tywalg's hands allowed the sword to fall slightly. The stranger took another swing, the general quickly shifted his hand and grabbed the blade with his left, still shielding himself. The third blow was deflected, but his own blade nearly severed the general's fingers. He didn't let go, however, and continued to clutch it as the stranger took another swing. The unknown sword fell for the final time. The protective spell shattered, and without it, Tywalg's sword shattered under the force of the blow. The stranger's blade severed his opponent's arm. The general screamed in pain. Without hesitation, the stranger plunged his sword into his opponent's stomach and pulled it up slightly, slashing his guts. Then he yanked the weapon free and swung Tywalg's head before he fell.

A deep silence fell; until then, there had been occasional cheers and other comments, but now no one spoke.

"Well, that's all," said the stranger's companion, approaching him. He

was wiping the blade on the leg of Tywalg's corpse. Yenlette had a chance to take a closer look. She'd never seen a sword like this before; it was slightly curved and seemed to have a blade on only one side. She'd always dealt with double-edged swords. The stranger finished wiping it clean and sheathed it in the sheath on his back. The companion approached him, put her arm around his waist, looked into his white, power-filled eyes, and noticed the wound on his cheek. Indeed, he'd already had it when he attacked Tywalg, probably slashed by someone during a field battle. From the cheekbone down. She spoke a few words to him and placed her hand on the wound. A soft blue light glowed, and the wound disappeared without a trace. The strangers stood and spoke to each other in a foreign language.

"So everything will be alright now?" asked Yenn Taffin, standing nearby.

"Hush, child, you never know if a greater devil has unleashed us," a woman whispered.

Silence fell everywhere, everyone waiting to see what would happen next. Indeed, freed from Tywalg's grasp, they could have fallen into worse hands. The aliens were powerful and, as is often the case, could have assumed the same stance as Garath. They continued to talk among themselves. Finally, the woman stood in the center of the square formed by the onlookers and raised her hands.

"People!" she didn't shout, but spoke in a raised voice so that everyone present

could hear. "I know you may be unsure about our arrival. And it really doesn't matter who we are or where we come from, the most important thing is that from now on, you are as free as ever. Garath and his strongest men are gone. You can create the state you once were. From now on, everything depends on you. Our mission ends in this city, for Tywalg was our last target. You must deal with the rest of Tywalg's lieutenants yourselves, but we know—I repeat, my companion and I know—that you can defeat the rest of Tywalg's men if you only band together and work together." We will leave, but you can take care of your future. Gather your armed forces and eradicate the last of the bugs that have invaded your beautiful land. We will also leave a few people who can support you if they wish. We will leave you now, but we believe you will manage. Oh, and remember, not all those who can use magic are bad people.