The Assassin and the Mage

He was going to kill me. His blade was to my throat, the steel cold and unfeeling against my tender skin, the tree trunk pressing against me. I knew why he had come; magic is forbidden in Vye, no matter if you were born with it or if it was given to you. And of course I would have the most feared magic of all.

Darkness. I could cast it on peoples' eyes, rendering them blind, or their minds, giving them only the thoughts that I let them have.

"By order of King Umbecht, I sentence you to death, mage!" the assassin said from beside me, and I didn't dare turn to look at him.

"Must I die?" I pleaded, gulping instinctively as he pressed the blade slightly harder against my throat. "I will leave, and I won't come back."

"And I'll come with you," the assassin said quietly, releasing me. As the steel left my neck, I felt my power flow back into me, and tears of relief sprang to my eyes.

"Devan?"

"It's me," he said as he folded me into his arms. "The others are waiting. Come."