I do not own Magi. Thanks for Les Miserabby, who beta-read this chapter for me. Also, let me say that I am TheAzuraStar - just with a different pen name now.

Longer author's note at end of the chapter.

~ Half-Blood's Legacy ~

~ Chapter Two ~

The very first time Maven had ever set foot in Sindria, she'd been amazed and awestruck. Being at a tender age of just ten, the former slave girl had never seen anything like it in her life. Her days had always been filled with such pain and dullness, confined to the same manor from dawn until dusk, and her master wore a never-ending sneer on his ugly face. She could hardly even believe that anything could be so bright and full of life.

To think that she had been leading a life of such suffering while there were people out there who did nothing but laugh and enjoy themselves day after day. It was so surreal, that she would not have believed it if she hadn't seen it with her own two eyes.

"...I'm coming with you where...?"

It had been four days since she'd been rescued by this King Sinbad, and another man who went by the name of Ja'far - who she had met soon after the King had introduced himself. From what the young girl was able to gather, the two had ventured to the homeland of her master on some sort of official business. Meaning saving her had never been part of their plan, but had somehow happened anyway. She didn't dare to question their motives.

Up until the moment at hand, the red-haired girl had spent all of her time recovering from her injuries. She rarely left the room she had woken up in, partly because she wasn't sure she was allowed to, and partly because she was too afraid to even try. The thought of her master, whose physical state was still unknown to her, kept her from even attempting to leave.

The chains around her ankles were gone, but it would still be a long while before she was freed from the invisible chains binding her soul.

"To Sindria," the purple-haired man replied to her soft-spoken question with a smile. He was always smiling whenever he was around her. She wondered why. For what purpose did he smile like that? To calm her? To make her more amiable? To reassure her?

But she never saw any ill-intentions in those smiles, though. She wasn't good at reading people, but even a slave - or was it former slave now? - like her could tell that much. It made her feel slightly more relaxed around him, because she at least knew that when he graced her with that upturn of the mouth, it wasn't like her master's smile - cold and sinister, promising pain and punishment.

"Sindria?" Her brow furrowed and she couldn't quite keep the disbelieving tone out of her voice. "But...why?"

"It's better than spending the rest of your life here as a slave, isn't it?" He responded with his own question, but his expression remained kind.

The girl's gaze became focused on the floor. Her brown eyes - her father's eyes - stared as if the tiled paneling below was the most fascinating thing in the world. She wanted to answer him with, 'yes, of course.' She wanted to agree, to say that anything would be better than a life of slavery. But she was unable to. Her tongue refused to move, her mouth refusing to form such words.

Instead, she found herself asking in return, "But what of my...my master?" She knew she didn't care for the cruel man in any sort of way, but something drove her to ask. She hated the effect he had over her - how was it that he could still influence what she said, even though he wasn't even in this room with her? For all she knew, he may have died, but yet...the hold he had over her demanded recognition. The fear he inspired within her refused to loosen its grip.

After she asked that question, Sinbad's expression seemed to change ever-so slightly. She didn't see it because of her lack of attention, but the man was silent for a second longer than she was expecting. Her gaze lifted back up to peer at him questioningly, and the moment she did was when he said,

"There's no need to worry about him," he didn't say why, and she didn't ask. She just listened intently as he went on, "The only thing you need to think about right now is making a full recovery. I promise you that you will never need to worry about something like that again." The way he smiled as he said it, she couldn't help but believe him. The sincerity rung strong in his words, and the only thing she was able to do was nod in agreement. She supposed that perhaps she should just trust in him and leave it at that.

Maybe she was nothing more than a charity case to King Sinbad, but even if that turned out to be all it was, she would be eternally grateful to him.

Three days later, she, Sinbad, and Ja'far were on their way to the land of Sindria. To be honest, she was more than a little frightened to step foot on the ship that would journey them to their destination at first. The thought of floating on water, only separated from a watery death by the wooden boards under her feet, made her reluctant. Was it really safe? Could she trust that it wouldn't break down on the way there? She had never sailed before, but Ja'far had reassured her that all would be fine. For a former assassin - Sinbad had entertained her with many stories of his journeys with the Eight Generals while she had been in recovery, so she was aware of his former occupation - the white-haired man was surprisingly kind.

Now, here she was, leaning against the railing of the ship, looking out across the vast expanse of endless blue. In the distant background, the sight of her old home grew further and further away. She opted not to look at it anymore, feeling a strange tug at her heart whenever she did. That was in the past now. That's what Sinbad had said to her, and she clung to the words like a lifeline, allowing the warm feeling of hope to fill the emptiness left behind by her experiences.

Slowly, she was allowing herself to see the world through a brighter perspective. It would take time, but perhaps someday she would be able to look back on her past without feeling a pang of fear or resentment. When she was able to do that, maybe then those invisible chains would be lifted.

"Um, excuse me, miss?" She jumped at the sound of the unfamiliar voice, instinctively tensing up. She turned her head to the side, where there was a man she did not know looking at her. Wariness filled her eyes as she stared at him, and she had to force herself not to take a step away.

"...yes?" She said to the man, who seemed to notice her reaction to him and tried his best to look as non-threatening as he could. Was her fear really that noticeable? ... she supposed it was. After all, the only people she really trusted at the moment were the two who had saved her. Everyone else was unpredictable. A variable that she wasn't willing to figure out just yet.

"Er, you...you're kind of denting the ship..." the man told her, eyeing her hands where they were clutched at the railing. And sure enough, when the red-haired girl's gaze slid down to take a look, she saw that her fingers were wrapped around the round beam with crushing force - causing her to immediately withdraw them.

"...I...I'm sorry," she mumbled, ducking her head and stepping away from the railing completely. She stared at her hands as if she'd never seen them before. This wasn't the first time this had happened, but every time it did, she couldn't help but think back to the time when those same hands had brutally shoved her master across his own living room - how she had punched him in the gut and made him keel over with her own sheer strength.

She was half Fanalis, yes, but that didn't mean that she was used to this strength. In fact, all she could recall about it was being punished for using it in the past. Now, whenever she found herself unconsciously making use of her ability, her first thought was that she had done something bad and was going to pay the price for it. It was a mindset she knew she didn't need any more, and yet couldn't shake.

"No, no," the man reassured her quickly, seeing the downcast look on her young face. "It's fine, no damage done. See?" He reached out his own hand, gripping the railing and giving it a good shake - it didn't budge. "It's just got a little dent in it now."

"Right..." the girl murmured, refusing to look at the man's face.

There was silence for a little while, and she was sure that the man had left. Yet when she lifted her head at last, it was to see him standing there in the same spot. Now, however, he was looking at her with interest in his brown eyes. The look reminded her too much of slave-traders when they caught sight of her unruly red hair and unusual facial features. She unconsciously took a step back.

"Say..." the man, this total stranger said thoughtfully, "that hair of yours...it looks a lot like a Fanalis', don't you think? You seem strong, too...especially for a child your age. But your eyes are brown. I could swear that Fanalis had red eyes."

Perhaps she should have just dismissed him then and there, told him that she was just an ordinary human being. That whatever he was thinking, he was mistaken. But then, memories flashed in her mind's eye, making her freeze. Lying only brought pain and suffering. Always tell the truth. If you were honest, then the punishment wouldn't be as severe.

It was with those thoughts flashing through her head that her mouth opened of its own accord and she stuttered out, "I-I'm half Fanalis. My mother was full-blooded and my father was a normal person."

Instantly, she snapped her mouth shut, allowing a somewhat horrified look to overcome her expression. But it was too late - she'd already blurted it out. Her feet carried her back another step.

She was no fool. She had come to learn a long time ago that it was her heritage as a half Fanalis that had gotten her sold - by her own father no less. No doubt he thought that a child with the blood of the legendary race would fetch a decent price. Seeing as the slave-traders made such a big fuss over her red hair and unusual strength, she had been able to deduce that being a Fanalis in a world such as this one was dangerous.

Fear started to cloud her mind. It was irrational fear, spawned from her horrible past, but fear nonetheless. She couldn't even register the fact that the man before her wasn't even threatening. If she had been thinking rationally, she would have been able to see that his interest held no bad intentions - that it was merely a moment of innocent intrigue.

But her memories were telling her the opposite. After all, all experience she had with that kind of interest had only lead to suffering. Her vision started to tunnel, and her breathing became quicker. Her heart felt like it was trying to leap out of her chest.

The man reached out toward her, to help her, to harm her, she didn't know, and as he did, she seemed to snap. A sharp gasp left the girl's mouth as she stumbled backwards, trying to get away from him. "No! Don't touch me!"

'Be a good little girl, and maybe you'll live longer than a few more years.'

The voice, harsh and cruel and accompanied by a false smile, surfaced from the depths of her memories. Her body started to tremble.

'You've got the blood of the Fanalis, right? That's good.'

"No, I don't...don't make me go back there...please!" She begged to no one.

'Shut your mouth, you whiny brat!'

'Your father doesn't care about you. Just look at what he's done to you!'

'You can stay down here by yourself and rot with the rats until I think you've learned your lesson.'

'This is the only thing you're good for, you-'

Someone's hand landed on her shoulder, and the girl let out a shriek. She tried to flail her way free, but that one hand soon became two arms restraining her. The next thing she knew, she was elbowing her assailant in the stomach, and she heard a pained grunt from whoever it was.

"Maven!" The voice shouted right next to her ear and the abruptness and volume made her stop moving for a moment, as her ears started to ring. The next thing she knew, she was being spun around. Her hazy brown eyes clashed with gold, and she stared up at the man in confusion and fear.

"Are you alright?" Sinbad asked her in a serious tone of voice, and slowly, some of her senses started to come back to her. She blinked at him, her mouth dry, her heart still pounding in her ears. "Are you alright?" He asked her again when she didn't respond.

"I..." what had just happened? Her head spun lightly, and after another short moment to gather her thoughts, she murmured, "I think so...?" She chanced a glance down at her feet - no chains. The sight calmed the young girl down even further, and she reminded herself that things were different now. She...she wasn't a slave anymore.

"I...I'm fine," she spoke again, a little more firmly. To reassure both Sinbad and herself. "I apologize. I got a little...carried away with my memories..." she stepped away from the King, who finally let his arms restraining her fall back to his sides. Then, she bowed briefly to him and the other man, feeling guilty for the fact that she had overreacted so badly in her fear-stricken daze.

For a moment, Sinbad looked as if he didn't quite believe her, but he was soon all smiles again like usual. He waved his hand as if to wave it all away. "No matter. As long as you're fine," he then gave a light wince, and a low chuckle escaped him as his hand fell to the place where she'd elbowed him. "You have quite the arm though, Maven. You truly are half Fanalis."

"I'm sorry!" Instantly, the girl was bowing again, her face almost comically wide-eyed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it! Please forgive me!"

As she stooped downwards to bow again for the umpteenth time, a hand stretched out to place itself on her head when she began to rise back up. Ruffling her hair and looking into her wide, bewildered eyes, Sinbad all but beamed at her. Amusement danced in those gold irises, and the longer she took in the brightness of this man's very existence, the lighter her heart felt.

And slowly, with some hesitance, a smile lifted the corners of Maven's mouth. For the first time since meeting King Sinbad, and for the first time in many years...she smiled a real, genuine and heartfelt smile in return.

Life truly was brighter in the sun, wasn't it?

"That's Sindria?" Maven asked, her brown eyes wide. In the near distance, she could see it. From here, it didn't look that big, but already, she could tell that it was a bright and lively place.

"It is," Ja'far told her, his own gray eyes trained onto the island before them. Standing next to the half Fanalis, he turned his attention to her, seeing the awe that was already beginning to form in the normally muted expression she wore. A small smile worked its way onto his face at the sight.

A light breeze swept by, ruffling the girl's hair slightly and causing a few of the strands to fall over her eyes. She ignored it, her attention riveted onto the country before her. Something stirred faintly in her stomach, and she wasn't quite sure if it was anticipation or fear. It may have very well been a mixture of the two. All she was sure of at the moment was that that was to be her new home.

Home. The word was foreign to her. In all her years of life, could she really call any of the places she'd been before by that name? Her old master's manor had been more of a prison than anything else. Even the little hut she'd lived in with her father all that time ago...she wasn't sure if it would be appropriate to call that her home either. Not after what she'd been put through thanks to her father's selfish actions.

"What is a home, exactly?" She mumbled to herself, placing her chin onto her folded hands, which were once again gripping the railing. With a lighter hold this time. "I don't think I really ever had one..."

"A home is a place to come back to at the end of each day," Ja'far's voice broke her inner musings, and she turned her head to look at him questioningly as he continued, "it's where you always feel safe, with family and friends. There's nothing else like it."

Maven watched the white-haired man for a moment longer. There was a fond smile on his face as he looked out toward Sindria, as if he were remembering certain memories, memories that she couldn't even begin to fathom. Her own gaze turned back to the island in the distance, and a small frown twisted her lips downward.

"Then," she began softly to herself, "I guess I really haven't ever had a home." For some reason, now that she realized this, she couldn't help but feel incredibly sad about it. A home seemed like something everyone should have, no matter who you were. What did that say about her then? In that instant, she felt very lonely.

"Sindria is your home now."

At that reminder, Maven perked up a bit. The lonely ache in her heart lessened a bit, and she allowed a very slight smile to grace her features.

"I know."

Those old memories always brought a certain smile to the red-haired girl's face. Sinbad and Ja'far had never been anything but kind to her in those days - granted, they were still kind to her now, but seeing as she was older, they were also stricter. At least, Ja'far was.

Upon arriving in Sindria, she had been introduced to the other Generals. Aside from the King and the former assassin, the first person Maven had grown attached to had been the quiet Fanalis, Masrur. He also happened to be the closest in age to her, just three years older. Despite the fact that he hardly talked to her much at first, the mere fact that he was the same race as her instantly drew her attention. She could remember following him around constantly, always paying rapt attention to whatever he did.

He'd been like an older brother figure to her in a way. As she grew older, he also helped her hone her skills as a Fanalis, though she had to admit that he was quite a lot stronger than she could ever be.

Maven at some point became decently close to all of the Generals. It was thanks to them that she was able to slowly but surely open up and discover a long-buried side to her, one she was sure had died out when she'd been betrayed by her father.

With the passing of time, the half Fanalis changed for the better; she became more talkative, more lighthearted. It got easier to talk about past as well. The scary nightmares that used to plague her life every night became less frequent. She was actually able to get a decent night's sleep. The episodes like the one she'd had on the ship to Sindria slowly faded from existence as well.

Under the guidance of these bright people, Maven flourished. She excelled, put her past behind as best as she could manage. Sure, sometimes unwanted memories were sure to crop up, but she was normally able to overcome them.

Living in Sindria was like a dream. An unending dream that wasn't really a dream at all. It was everything and nothing like she could have imagined, her, a young slave who knew so little of the world.

It was bliss. The past six years of her life could be summed up just like that. Compared to her life as a slave, this was heaven.

She didn't want it to end, and as far as she knew, it never would.

Unfortunately, life had this way of turning everything that was familiar on its head. But she was so used to this lifestyle already, that the thought of it changing was too much for her to bother with.

And because of this, she was ill-prepared for what the future had in store for her.

Hey, everyone. This chapter...took a very long time to come out, didn't it? I apologize for that. It's partly because I didn't know what I wanted from this story for a while. I was even contemplating discontinuing it.

But after some thought, I decided to give it a go again. Let's see how it fares over the next few chapters or so.

I also wanted to thank everyone who reviewed/favourited/followed. I didn't expect to get as many favs and follows on just the first chapter, so thank you so much for that!

This chapter was kind of boring in my opinion, but I still hope you enjoyed it at least a bit! It should pick up in a few chapters, when we reach the Balbadd arc!

Anyway, that's all for now.

See you next time!

~AquaLux Divine