What We Do to Survive

Daphne was nearly skipping as she left her last class of the day. Not even the heavy folder of makeup work tucked away in her bag could sour her mood. She would simply do it all on the boat, at this time of year it would be a two-day trip, and not have to worry about it at all once they reached the mainland. It was probably just a bunch of busy work anyway, the sort she could just rush through in a couple of hours without giving it much thought.

She hurried through the hallways and down flights of stairs, ignoring the constantly blabber of greetings and questions from her classmates. Most days she forced herself to acknowledge them, hating every minute of it but knowing it was expected of her as the heiress.

Today she simply couldn’t be bothered with it. She was finally getting out of here, away to a place where no one, not her father, not her suitors, not her useless teachers and tutors, could bother her. It was only for a few weeks, but there were times when she would have gladly cut off her own hand for even a day of reprieve. Three whole weeks was nothing less than a dream come true.

Her friend met her just outside the gates of Lightcastle, waving excitedly as she leaned out the window of a simple carriage, a broad, familiar smile on her face. Daphne ignored the strange looks her classmates were giving her as she rushed towards the carriage, moving as quickly as she could in her heavy coat and heeled boots.

Cayla pushed the carriage door open and leapt down to meet her. The moment Daphne was close enough, she was swept up into a tight hug. It wasn’t proper, they may both be nobles but Daphne’s status was much higher than that of her friend and a simple hug was in no way an acceptable greeting. There were dozens of people watching, people who would notice and talk and word of her behavior would absolutely get back to her father, but none of it mattered in that moment and Daphne hurriedly returned the hug.

“Oh I’m so glad to see you! This is going to be amazing, just like old times! I’m so glad your dad let you come with us on such short notice!” Cayla exclaimed.

“Yeah,” Daphne agreed breathlessly. Her throat felt tight with emotion and for a moment she didn’t quite know what to say. This was the third time she’d seen her old friend since she’d first run into her on that cold night the week before, but neither of those times had felt fully real.

Things had just moved so quickly. Now, the realization that she was finally escaping this place, even if only for a few short weeks, had finally risen to the forefront of her mind and she simply couldn’t wait. She also couldn’t quite believe her father had let her go.

She’d thought she would have to fight and beg for the privilege, but he had almost seemed as eager for her to go as she was. She hadn’t even had time to promise to attend extra lessons and events before he’d hurriedly agreed. Maybe he’d finally noticed how much she hated all of this, how much it wore on her mind to be the serious heiress at all times of day. Adara had worn the mantle like she’d been born for it. She had been born for it. Daphne hadn’t. Hadn’t ever wanted the title.

Cayla continued to chatter as the carriage driver, an unremarkable young man with a forgettable face and plain clothing, climbed down from his high seat and helped the two of them up into the carriage. Her luggage was already loaded up in the back of the carriage, handed over earlier that morning by her servants, and she happily deposited her school bag into the compartment under her padded bench.

She leaned back, a smile on her face as she listened to Cayla’s unending torrent of words. She’d almost forgotten how much of a chatterbox Cayla became when she was excited about something. She certainly didn’t mind, it was so much better than the stifled, formal tone most people assumed with her these days.

The carriage began to move, a slightly bumpier ride than she was used to, but nothing the thick cushions on her seat and backrest couldn’t handle. She watched idly out the window as the houses rolled by, occasionally inserting a word or two between Cayla’s stories.

It was rather strange. The girl spoke of Avalon with a level of fondness that was utterly bizarre to hear. At times, Daphne didn’t even realize her various anecdotes even took place within the school. She’d never had a clear picture of what the school looked like, perhaps a blood-splattered hellscape complete with dismembered bodies and skull-encrusted gates, but the image her friend was painting told of something very different.

The Avalon Cayla knew was dangerous. Though Cayla glossed over it Daphne understood enough to know that a student that had stopped coming to classes was probably dead. Daphne knew that too, but Cayla’s words also painted a picture of a cheerful place filled with wonderful people. She spoke fondly of her friends, her classes, and the wonderful places she’d seen during the school’s relocations.

Daphne was sad she wouldn’t get to meet this Orion boy that Cayla kept gushing over. How was she supposed to tease her friend about her obvious crush without knowing if the boy was cute or not?

Slowly but surely, houses were replaced by rolling hills and fields filled with winter crops. Here a farmer tended to the bright blue vines of a winter melon, there a young man crouched hard at work on the roof of a barn.

Eventually, Daphne could no longer hold back the question that she had really wanted to ask during the entire trip so far. She waited patiently until Cayla paused to take a drink and then turned away from the window to stare directly at her friend.

“I’ve heard that Avalon is the greatest school of magic in the whole world,” she began.

Cayla put her metal bottle down and nodded her head enthusiastically. “It is! Some of the things I’ve seen the upper years do, it's like something out of a story. One time I saw Orion––”

Daphne cut her off before she could get going again. Leaning forward in her seat, she quietly asked, “Can you show me? I promise I won’t tell anyone, I just––”

“Sure! I’m not that great, I’m only a second year, but I’ve picked up a couple of tricks.”

Daphne jerked back in her seat when Cayla simply swept her hand through the air, fingers trailing streams of turquoise mana. The ribbons of glowing mana flowed together, forming a complicated-looking spell matrix that looked nothing like anything Daphne had ever seen before. For several seconds, the inside of the carriage was bathed in a cool glow. Then, the spell matrix flashed brightly and vanished.

Daphne gasped when she saw what her friend had done. A dozen gleaming butterflies fluttered around her head, then spread out to fly in gentle spirals throughout the carriage.

“Whoa…” she whispered breathlessly. She’d never seen a spell like that before Without really thinking about it, she reached out to grab one as it flew over her head, only for Cayla’s hand to dart forward and stop her.

“Careful!” she snapped.

“Huh?” Daphne asked, looking questioningly at her friend.

“Sorry, I should have warned you. There, uh, not really… safe to touch. Look.”

Cayla slid the thick glass cover over the window out of the way and a single butterfly flew out of the carriage. Daphne watched mesmerized as it gently drifted towards the cobblestone road. It looks so… graceful, silvery wings beating gently and body bobbing in the breeze. Then, it touched down and, for the second time in as many minutes, Daphne jerked back as the harmless butterfly was replaced by a head-sized ball of white-hot fire.

“Gods above!” she swore loudly. She glanced hurriedly between the rapidly dispersing ball of fire and the eleven remaining butterflies that were flying terrifyingly close to her head. “What was that!”

Cayla looked away sheepishly, toying with a strand of hair that had fallen in front of her face. “Sorry, I should have said something. It's, ah… technically a combat spell, but it's so pretty I thought you’d like it? They’re completely safe unless they touch something!”

Daphne looked around the rather cramped interior of the carriage, only made more cramped by the terrifying butterflies filling the air. “Could… could you make them go away? They’re really pretty, but––”

“Yeah! Yeah, I can do that,” she hurriedly blurted out. Cayla clapped her hands together and in an instant all the remaining butterflies vanished in a cloud of silver sparkles. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to spook you.”

“It’s fine.” Daphne said faintly. She lifted her hand up to her chest and felt her heart pounding in her chest. “I just…” she took a deep breath, “I just need a second.”

“Here, I have just the thing to make you feel better.” Cayla stood up and opened the seat under her. She spent a few seconds digging around, then straightened, holding a bottle of wine and a pair of tall glasses. “I was going to save this until we got to the boat, but I think now’s as good a time as any.”

She set the glasses down on a fold-out table and poured them both a drink. Daphne hurriedly grabbed hers, wine sounded like just the thing to help her settle down a little. She reflexively swirled the dark red liquid and took a deep breath. The wine smelled wonderfully fruity and sweet, just like she liked it, with an herbal undertone.

She took a small sip and her eyes widened at the taste. “Wow, that’s delicious.” It didn’t really taste like wine, more like an alcoholic fruit juice, but it was undeniably delicious. Her more snobbish tutors would probably call it a mockery of a wine, but she didn’t really care what they would think.

She took another, bigger sip, then set the glass back down on the table. “That… was so cool,” she finally said, eyes burning with desire. “You’ve got to teach me that spell. I’ve never seen anything like that before!”

Cayla’s eyes flickered to the side and then she picked up her own glass. “Yeah, sure,” she said after a moment. “I can totally do that.”

Her voice sounded… strange. Off. “Is something wrong?” Daphne asked.

“No!” Cayla hurried to reassure her. “Everything is great. I’d love to teach you that spell.”

Daphne raised the glass to her lips again and took another long pull. The wine was so… A sudden wave of drowsiness washed over Daphne’s mind, like a heavy blanket suddenly wrapping around her head. Her hands went slack and the glass she was holding fell from between boneless fingers, splattering her green winter dress with splotches of crimson.

Cayla snatched the glass before it could tumble to the floor, then used her other hand to cradle Daphne’s cheek. “I’m sorry Daph, I promise this is for the best.”

Daphne tried to say something, ask something, do something. Anything. In a moment of clarity, she remembered the small golden capsule her father had given her that morning. The capsule he’d told her to crush it if something happened and someone would come get her. The capsule she’d uncaringly wrapped in a spare scarf and tucked away in her school bag. After all, she was going to be with Cayla. Her good friend Cayla.

She heard the carriage door slide open and someone gently stepped inside. “Good timing,” a young woman’s voice said simply. She had a strange accent, one Daphne couldn’t quite place despite her lessons. “Let’s get you veiled properly and then you take the reins. I’ve got her from here.”

“I got it.” Cayla responded, even as Daphne’s eyelids finally slid shut.

The next thing she knew, a deluge of ice-cold water splashed across her bare skin. Daphne gasped reflexively and what felt like an entire bucket-full of water flooded into her mouth and nose. She choked and gagged, desperately trying to clear her airways.

Functioning entirely on instinct, she tried to thrash her arms and legs. A boat! She was supposed to be on a boat! She must have fallen overboard! They didn’t move, couldn’t move. Chains clinked loudly and cold metal bit into her wrists and ankles.

She was trapped. She couldn’t move, couldn’t breath, and everything was so cold. She coughed and sputtered past chattering teeth. Her eyes were open, but she couldn’t see anything. Where was she? How did she––

“See, it worked. It looks like she’s awake now,” a melodious voice called out softly.

“Awe, but Master said it would be my turn next,” someone responded glumly.

“You’ll get your chance soon enough.”

“Yes Master.”

The icy bath had been very unpleasant, but it had done its job in clearing away the last of the cobwebs filling Daphne’s head. She’d been in a carriage. Cayla had drugged her. Cayla…

She shook her head to clear it and yelped when her skull impacted against unyielding stone. She tried to remember her lessons. Step one, step one… Get your bearings. Then cooperate and wait for a ransom or rescue. She could do that.

She tried to shift into a slightly more comfortable position, but it was impossible. Her back was pressed up against something cold and rough, rock probably. Her arms were bound at her sides and most of her weight was hanging off her ankles which were pulled up above her head. Neither set of bindings had any sort of give to them, and she doubted she had the core strength to move around even if they did.

The next thing she noticed was that she was all but naked. She could feel soaking wet cloth covering her eyes, but that was the only fabric on her entire body. There was something, a collar probably, cinched tightly around her neck and four shackles holding each of her limbs in place, but that was it. That was probably a bad sign, especially given the commanding male voice she’d just heard.

She couldn’t suppress a shudder as that thought crept into her mind, and she hurriedly banished it away. It was something she’d read about in her books and journals, but not something she’d ever seriously contemplated in the past. No, that was not even worth thinking about. Help was coming. It had to be. Her Father would be here soon and everything was going to be alright.

At least she was blindfolded. That was good. Her lessons said that was good. It meant her captors didn’t want her seeing their faces. Assuming they were also using voice-altering magic and took the proper precautions, they would be nearly impossible to find with divination magic. That probably meant everything was going to be alright. Everything was going to be alright.

“Hello there,” she said, doing her best to keep her voice as calm and even as she could manage. “Might I have the honor of knowing my captors’ names?”

The glum speaker from before laughed softly, “Oh, she’s a polite one, Master. I wonder how long that will last.”

Daphne waited for several more seconds, then continued. “You probably already know this, but I am a woman of some importance. My family will pay handsomely for my safe return.”

This time there was no response.

“You must know that hurting me will only sign your own writs of execution. My father is Lord Warbringer. Ours is not a name known for forgiveness and compromise. I doubt he would look fondly at any who dared harm his heiress,” she tried, “If you release me now I––

“The first one was funny, but this is getting annoying,” the man said, interrupting her. “Be a dear and shut her up.”

A moment later, the blindfold over her eyes was pulled away, and with it the majority of Daphne’s remaining resolve. She blinked rapidly, eyes watering in the sudden bright light. A moment later, Cayla’s smiling face swam into view.

“Hi Daph,” she said cherily, “I know this doesn’t look good, but I promise I only want what’s best for you. Just cooperate and it's all going to be over soon, okay?”

Daphne opened her mouth but before she could say anything, though she didn’t even know what she would say if she could, Cayla shoved a balled up rag ––her panties, those were her panties–– into her mouth, then followed it up with some sort of hard but pliable ball that forced her mouth wide open and left her completely unable to say anything.

She tried anyway, but no sound came out. Even when she screamed she couldn’t even hear the air coming out of her lungs. Cayla smiled, patted her gently on the shoulder, then stepped away.

“Much better. Thank you dear, you did well today.” The speaker from before, a devilishly handsome young man with short-cropped hair, a strong jawline, and striking dark eyes, turned to the purple-skinned girl standing a step behind him. “She’s all yours, Rea. I promised Lea I’d bring her dinner and it's getting pretty late. I’ll heal her up before I go to bed, just don’t damage her too badly before I get back.”

“Yes Master!” she chirped cheerfully, “I’ll start her off nice and easy.”

“Good girl.” He patted her head affectionately, then turned away. “Let’s go Miranda.”

“Yes Orion.”

A moment later, she was left alone with Cayla and the oddly-colored girl. She stared desperately at her friend, eyes wide and pleading. Cayla smiled back at her.

There was so much Daphne wanted to say, to ask her. Why? Why do this? What was happening? Why? Why!

Then a whip cracked and a sharp pain erupted in her breast. Cayla waved cheerfully, an achingly familiar motion that sent a spike of longing and confusion shooting through her chest, then turned around and vanished. Then the whip cracked again and all thoughts but pain were driven out of her mind.