To Save a World

The snap on her voice clearly wounded him, even as she regretted the ridiculousness of her insult. His wounded look bought her a satisfied smirk, if only she didn'talso feel hurt in response. Lydia knew it was her own fault, which made it worse. Somehow, she had thought this one would be different from the rest. Foolish. She watched over his troubled, sleeping face and felt an instinct to ease his suffering. Expended the last of her pitiful magical store to dull the pains in his mind.Utterly stupid.

"No!" the boy replied with an urgency that surprised her. He had light gray eyes, like polished steel, rare in these parts of the world. These gray eyes were staring at her fervently "No, I don't think that. I was just surprised. I've never seen one before."

"Truly?" surprised yet again, she asked before she could think about it.

"Yes. Never." His eyes changed, then, and now roamed at her hair and eyes with a certain kind of wonder that suddenly made Lydiavery self conscious.

"I'm sorry," He said again when he realized in the sudden silence that he was staring. A small, curious part of her almost told him to go ahead and continue looking, making her feel the way she feels right now.

"Yeah," She replied, suddenly bashful.

"I meant to thank you," he said gently. He turned to fully face her, and she realized that the markings on his back were absent from his front except from both arm's wrist. Her gaze trailed down and rested on the canvas trousers that he now wore. She wondered if he remembered being naked when she found him, wondered if he would be embarrassed when he realized it was she who placed the pants in him.

Her gaze snapped up to his eyes, the flush she resolutely tried to ignore deepening on her cheeks. "No," she said "It was nothing. I was told to guard you, is all. Herry is still leading the caravan and everyone else are in their posts so there was no one else-" She abruptly shut up when she realized she was babbling.

It's being empty, she thought.It's getting to me. When was the last time she fed? Before she was caught and sold. That seemed so far ago, a different life. One where she wasn't a slave but just another orphan growing up in the streets of a backwater town, but one where she had the littlest bit of magic.

"I just did what I was told to," she continued, lamely.

"Then I guess you were also told to stare at my body like that?"

Now she wasreally embarrassed. If she could get any redder she might as well be a tomato. She squirmed and stuttered, "I wasnt- I-, The wards were just beauti- I mean, interesting. I wasn't staring at them but they were-"

She shut up when she realized he was grinning, at her expense. He had a wonderful grin. He had nice eyes, and a nice enough face, but when he grinned genuinely they all combined into something that made her grin in return, dispelling the tension, and making her aware of herself in a way that she hadn't felt in a long time.

"Oh, you cheeky little shit." she said, shaking her head and trying to fight her own grin.

"Excuse me,I'm the cheeky one?" he replied, playfully offended, "I wasn't the one basicallydrooling over this glorious hunk of manliness" he gestured to his naked torso. He was not very thin, but just scrawny enough to make the statement funny to the both of them.

Lydia was startled to find that she was laughing. "Oh please, only starving dogs would find those bones glorious."

"These bones were in a bad spot, I wouldn't want to know what would have happened without you."

"I said it's fine," she waved the gratitude away, "You know I didn't really do anything except fondle 'that hunk of manliness'."

He smiled. "If that's how you wish to think about it, I guess I can't do anything to dissuade you."

The implied debt and genuine thankfulness suddenly made her nervous. In a good way. She didn't know why. "I hope you liked fondling it," he continued, "It might have been your last chance. It's in high demand."

His playful bravado made her chuckle once again. "High demand? By whom? Whichever prison you've escaped from?" She regretted the words as soon as she said it, she didn't know his story and might have offended him. She needn't have worried, though.

"No, by beautiful women in backs of suspicious wagons."

She blushed furiously, surprised. And then she laughed a real, loud laugh, which surprised her even more. She just couldn't believe the balls on this one, the easy, intoxicating confidence a breath of fresh air to the usual dreadful atmosphere of the caravan. She haven't laughed in so long.

Of course, he hadn't exactly been outside it yet.

The thought subdued her some, although the mirth still wouldn't leave her, no matter how she tried.

"Theyare beautiful, though. I'm sorry if I ever made you uncomfortable." He said. It occurred to her that he was not flirting, or making any kind of pass at her. The compliment and interest was genuine. Throughout her life her fire colored hair and eyes were a subject of scorn, and even outright hatred. So much so that she kept her hair cut boyishly close to her hair, and she wore cloaks with deep hoods just to hide her eyes.

No wonder she was so unbalanced around this man, she had never before met anyone who truly found her anomalies interesting. Before now, Lydia didn't know one could blush so much in a day.

It's because I'm running fucking empty with magic, she lied to herself.

***

"Lydia!" A voice shattered the stillness, loud and harsh, shattering the bubble that they had both created between themselves. Aaron momentarily forgot that there was a whole new magical world out there, taken as he was with this woman before him. There was something fascinating about her mercurial temper, managing to come from spiking anger to an almost bashful surprise and then to sly confidence.

And hereyes. Her eyes were the color of fire.Actual fire, not some still photograph of it - twin orbs containing streaks of golds and sunsets and blood, like explosions of color butalive. Aaron has never seen anything like it before, he was instantly mesmerized.

And when he saw those eyes flash with fear he was immediately on guard himself.

"I've got to go." she told him. Aaron smelled the scent of her hair as she squeezed past him in the limited space of the wagon, catching the scent of sun and wind and some kind of spicy fragrance. Distantly, he realized that the wagon didn't sway and buck anymore.

"Wait," he said quietly, grabbing her arm "Bad men?"

Eyes wide, she nodded slowly.

"Be careful." He didn't want to let go, but hesitantly did. Lydia snatched her arm away from him, uncertain, and finally nodded.

"Thank you," she silently mouthed.

Just then brightness erupted from behind him, making him flinch. He realized someone had rudely yanked open the flaps that served as the enclosed wagon's door.

"Well," a new voice drawled strangely, "It seems our guest is awake."

Aaron turned around slowly, awkwardly twisting his body while still sitting. As he faced the front he saw that the woman, Lydia, was now out of the wagon, standing beside the man with a carefully neutral expression, looking at the ground. Aaron was surprised at the annoyance he felt seeing the man's big hand possessively resting on her shoulder, dwarfing her.

"I see you've met my woman." The statement was invasive and possessive, the tone used something that has no business being used in human beings. The man saidmy woman like how normal people saymy dog.

Aaron instantly hated the guy. He looked at the bald brute in his muddy brown eyes, sunken deep beneath a strong forehead. He had a face which might have looked ruggedly handsome before being bashed repeatedly into rocks.

He took a deep breath.

"Hello!" Aaron cheerfully replied, smiling wide as if he was meeting a long lost friend. "If it isn't my savior!"

He shuffled out of the wagon to clasp the big man in a grateful embrace. He couldn't meet both hands around the man's torso, and when he stepped back he had to crane his neck up and up to look at his face, now shadowed by the sun.

He smiled at the approximate direction of the hulking face. "I'm Aaron! Damn, was I in a bad spot there. You have my greatest appreciation, Mister..."

"Herry" the man grunted, "And not a mister, either. Ain't one of those soft, powder-pricked nobles." He looked down suspiciously, glaring at him. "You're not one ofthem, are you?"

"Of course not," the boy hurriedly assured him, surprised at his vehemence and thinking it might be good to stay on the man's good side. Never mind that he had no idea how - he's still just scrambling around.

"And I really do, appreciate it! I don't know what would have happened, had you not found me! It would-"

"Oh?" The large man interrupted, something unpleasant shifting in his malicious eyes, "Is that why you have such powerful wards etched on your skin?"

Aaron was instantly on guard, his heart jumping. There it was; the first challenge. He somehow knew how he handled this would set the tone for the rest of this facade.

He glanced at Lydia, staring at him wide eyed, his mind whirring.What to do? Without missing a beat, he deflected the man's accusation "Ah, butsir, you never asked if I was under theemploy of one."

The large man grunted, "Employ? Wazzat?"

"It means-"

"It means," a new, feminine voice intruded "That he's not a noble, heworks for one."

Aaron turned to look behind him at the approaching newcomer and immediately felt a strong sense of foreboding. The woman walked towards them leading a huge, intimidating, dark brown horse - which did not look out of order with her proportionally massive frame. She was wearing odd clothes, something gray which might have been once a riding dress but was heavily modified with bulging pockets and flaps and sheaths containing wicked looking blades in various parts of her body. It now looked closer to a bulky, impractical body armor made by a particularly insane tailor in a fit of madness.

The boy could swear that he saw the leg of a frog sticking out from one of those pockets.

The new arrival stopped beside Herry, almost equaling the brute's impressive height with her own. Aaron could immediately see their relation. Even in the kind of clothing she wore her formidable feminine shape still managed to stretch it in all the right places. They even almost have the same faces, the woman being more handsome instead of beautiful.

They were also the same in the repressed cruelty he saw in her eyes although where her brother's was thickheaded brutality, hers were a more disturbing sharpness. Peas in a pod, birds in the same ugly feather.

She scratched short, close cropped hair with a large, marginally feminine hand, and then shocked everyone by socking her brother right behind his head for no apparent reason, eliciting a surprised groan.

"I'm Serry, and I'm not stupid like my brother. I can turn your insides out if I spot you in a lie."

Aaron gulped. The woman stood at ease with her gigantic horse perfectly behaved behind her. As if that wasn't scary enough, she dug out something round from one of her many pockets and tossed it. Much to Aaron's surprise, the rock disregarded the laws of gravity and opted to levitate instead of coming back down on her palm.

Magic, he thought numbly. But that wasn't even the end of it.

The air around the object began to simmer, and it began to squirm. He stared when he realized the object wasn't a rock at all, but a big, round beetle. He knew because said beetle opened its wings and attempted to fly away, but was held in place by said magic while its wings literally burned from the unnatural heat. Oh, and it was squealing.

He understood what she was trying to do - it was the magical version of bandit knife-spinning displays, or cowboy gun-toting stand-offs. It was meant to intimidate him. Plain old psychological warfare, with a little magic and sadism.

The young man gulped. It was a potent reminder of his place in this world - namely, 'none as of the moment'.

"So if you would be honest while you graciously tell us who the fuck you are, Mister hotshot." She wasn't even trying to hide the menace in her eyes.

Aaron breathed deep and steadied himself. Thoughts zipped through his brain as he made a quick analysis of his situation:

One; they hadn't killed him. Better yet, they didn't even chain or imprison him, and chose what seemed to be a lowly underling to guard him. That could mean two things - either they were confident in their power to contain him, or they were afraid of him. By Serry's gracious performance, he knew that they certainly wanted him to think the former.

Two; by their aggressive manner, he would assume the worst case and operate under the assumption that these MAY be seasoned killers. It might be too big of a leap of logic, considering his evidence, but hey, the man was a misogynistic bastard and his sister was torturing an insect to intimidate him, so all bets were off. Plus, he had developed a sudden, instinctive liking for Lydia, and she was basically cowering in fear while trying not to appear so in her spot in the circle.

Three; they may be thought number 2, but they were also businessmen in a timetable. For one, it was a pretty long caravan, with a couple of other people on horses scattered along the length of it, kicking up dust in the dirt road. What would you use those wagons for? Goods, most likely. The fact that they hadn't wasted time to let him recuperate was also telling. It would be a waste of time and resources, something that was valuable no matter which world you are in (a little internal scream that he ruthlessly suppressed).

With barely a pause, he said "My name is Aaron, but who I am is unimportant. What you need to know is that I am a very valuable person to the right people."

The burning creature flared and dissolved into ashes. Serry automatically reached into another pocket and pulled out another big beetle. This one seemed to be much more danger aware than his previous compatriot and was struggling from the get-go, but the magical hold on it was beyond its capability to resist. It began its slow burn while Aaron tried to keep his eyes on the scary woman.

"That is indeed an interesting claim," She finally said. He could tell she didn't believe one word of it.

"Believe it as you will. The bottom line is that I can help you if you help me. "

"And what's in it for us?"

"I am worth more than your weight in gold to some very powerful people." He blatantly lied through his teeth. Well, it might technically be truth - he figured there would be a magical authority out there who would be very interested in him indeed, but he didn't know for sure and does not have plans to know for sure any time soon.

"We are a successful business. We don't need your uncertain gold." Translation; we have no desire to be caught in the middle of a shit storm for vague rewards without guarantees.

Aaron chuckled. "Lady, I mean no disrespect, but everyone does need more gold. And for this, the only thing you have to do is deliver me to the next town."

He didn't know what the next town was, or where, but he needed a realistic condition to his promising background. What would happen once they realized there was no rich noble waiting to claim him on said town? A question for another day.

"And that is all we need to do?"

"Absolutely. A safe and comfortable passage through the long, lonely roads and you will never hear from me again."

"That is all?" She was staring at him intensely. He was frantically thinking of what he did wrong when it finally made sense. What she was really asking him about was his situation.

He took a deep breath. "The situation you saw me in was from a faulty magical experiment."

"A magical experiment?" She asked, her interest piqued. Warning bells blared through his mind - he knew as much about magic as he knew about the Mayan Afterlife, and it was a good bet that she, with her pyrokinetic bug torturing technique, knew a whole lot more than he did. But there was no other way out of his lie so he decided to full speed ahead. Besides, this is a world of magic - everything could be possible.

Right?

"It was an experiment to send me to the other side of the world using magic," he said, trying to sound proud of his words, "It was a magic secretly developed solely by my Master."

Serry snorted. "How is it going so far?"

"Well, is it the other side of the world?" he stared at her hopefully.

"No," she sneered, "You're two days East of Searle, in a region of the Hills of Peace."

Aaron shook his head despite the places meaning absolutely nothing to him. "Damn, so near." He sighed.

Lydia stared wide eyed at the whole exchange. The young man looked positively diminutive standing beside the two menacing giants, but he nonchalantly acted unthreatening and trustworthy. The confidence she glimpsed in the cart fully revealed itself, unwavering in the enemy's posturing and intimidation.

Who was he? His name was Aaron and he was a noble mage's trusted servant, uneducated but knowing enough to be smart. Which noble house? He wouldn't say, on account of security (his house's enemies must not know of the magical failure), but he gave strong hints that his employers were powerful and wealthy and definitely wanted him back. Also, they were stuck up, limp-dicked, stupid powder-faces that wouldn't last one bit without their massive, ill gotten fortune that he was sure came from every honest, working man's purse.

Where was he from? Again, no exact answer, but his employers had eyes and ears everywhere. Just bring him to the nearest town and they'd all know what he was talking about.

What happened to him? An unfortunate accident, and although he never expressly said it he framed the picture of an eccentric and reclusive Master confidential magical experiment gone awry, enforced into secrecy by gold or by blood, and backed by powerful houses and their best mages. His proof? The wards on his body, which not evenhe (nor anyone else in this party, he was sure) can completely comprehend. Besides, what else could be the cause of his all-too-close death in that huge magical circle?

Was he a mage? He faltered at that, although so minutely that Lydia was the only one who noticed, but it turned out that he hadsome ability, but it wouldn't matter because he was obviously still weak, and thus in their protection.And, Lydia thought,therefore at their mercy.

By the end of their interrogation the boy - no,man, for who else can have such wit and cunning? - Aaron had portrayed himself as a helpless cash cow that was tolerable company due to their shared dislike of the upper class.

Lydia was deeply impressed.

"I do not like how you can't tell us your fucking House." Serry complained in her usual coarse way.

"The rewards will speak for itself when you deliver me safely," Aaron shrugged.

"Rewards! You guarantee us nothing!" the woman accused, taking a step forward. Herry, letting his sister take the lead, flexed his arms menacingly.

Aaron never backed down, appearing unconcerned despite the fact that his heart was hammering holes inside his chest. He shrugged again in her face, "Well, neither do you, Serry. Besides, you have everything to gain by helping me, and what do you stand to lose? A few days worth of rations?" They both knew that wasn't the case, the caravan masters were being too secretive and aggressive for them to be completely clean.

She scowled at that for a bit, "What's stopping you from running away once we get there?"

"You really think I could run away from you?"

Aaron waited with baited breath as the woman pondered, staring at him intensely. He tried to keep his face equally determined in meeting her eyes, tried to adopt the look of a man who had nothing to lose.