It was the middle of the night when Onua woke. It was her Gift that jolted her awake, warning her that someone had come to the edge of her protection spell. She moved to kick Numair awake, but when she looked over at him she saw he was already sitting up in his bedroll, hair tousled from sleep but eyes alert. Their gazes met and she pressed a finger to her lips. He nodded his understanding and eased out of his bedroll as Onua did the same, reaching for her crossbow.
There were voices nearby, and the sound of hooves on the road. Then the bandits came into view.
"You sure this is where they stopped, Berk?" The leader said.
"I'm sure, boss. I saw 'em come in here clear as day, two riders and five ponies."
"Then where are they now?"
"I dunno. Could they be hidden with a spell or something?" Berk suggested. Numair and Onua exchanged quick, worried glances.
"Good point," the leader said thoughtfully. "Where's that damn mage when you need him?"
"Here, boss. I'll check for a spell." The mage dismounted and began pacing slowly along the invisible barrier of Onua's wards, murmuring spell of his own. She closed her eyes and sent up a brief prayer to any gods who might be listening, begging for her wards to hold. "There's a spell here, alright," the mage concluded. "A good one. They're probably watching us right now."
The leader laughed. "Let's give 'em a show, then. Take the spell down."
"Sure, boss." The mage raised his hands and began to chant, brown fire igniting in his hands. Onua loaded her crossbow, expression grim. She'd never known a group of bandits with a mage strong enough to beat her wards, and the fact that there was one here now could mean nothing good.
"Onua, I should probably tell you-"
"Not now, Numair," Onua hissed. She needed to focus.
"But-" Just then, the protection spell shattered like glass and their campsite was revealed to the bandits.
"Well look what we have here," the leader said with a yellow-toothed smile. Onua raised her crossbow.
"Leave us alone and no one has to get hurt," she said, steady voice belying the fear that sent her heart pounding in her chest.
"No one has to get hurt, she says," Berk laughed. "We're not the ones you should be worried about."
"You can take the ponies," Onua told him. She could see that they were outnumbered and in Numair's case, hopelessly outmatched (no offense meant to the player, but he didn't even carry a weapon and couldn't defend himself against a fly from what she'd seen). She'd rather lose her ponies than her life.
"Oh, we will," the leader said, looking her up and down. "But I think you and I should get to know each other a little better first." Onua shivered despite herself, and the bandit's smile widened. Without looking away from her, he said casually: "Berk, kill the other one. He's no use to me."
"Numair, get behind me," Onua ordered.
"I don't think so," the player said quietly.
"Numair-"
"You should all leave now," he said to the bandits. He stepped forward to stand beside Onua, no hint of fear in his stance or his voice.
"Who's gonna make me?" The leader laughed, taking in the player's scrawny, ragged appearance. "You?"
"Me," Numair agreed calmly.
"Berk, shoot him," the leader said, and the bandit's arrow loosed, headed straight for Numair. But before Onua could so much as move, the arrow hit a rock solid barrier or black sparks and shattered. Shocked, Onua turned to Numair and barely recognized the person standing beside her.
Black fire gathered in his hands and spilled from his fingers, power crackling through the air around him. Gone was the friendly, affable grin she'd grown accustomed to, replaced by deadly focus and a glare so fierce that it could burn a hole through a brick wall. He spread his fingers and thrust his hand forward, sending a jet of black fire shooting at the bandits. Two of their horses bolted at the sight. The ones who remained pawed the ground, eyes rolling in panic. The bandits with crossbows raised their weapons, but electricity crackled at Numair's fingertips and lightning flashed, leaving the bandits screaming and clutching smoking wounds. The rest broke and ran, lashing at their mounts to urge them ever faster.
Now alone in the clearing with Onua, Numair curled his hands over the black fire and it disappeared. Eyes closed, he breathed deeply, visibly calming the power and pulling it back into himself. When he finished, he turned back to Onua with a sheepish smile.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," he apologized. "I didn't know if I could trust you."
"Bian, Chavi, Vau, and Shai," Onua whispered. Numair winced.
"All four Horse Lords, huh? That bad?"
"How could I not have seen this?" She gasped.
"Don't be too hard on yourself. Detecting the Gift isn't your specialty."
"You're probably the most powerful mage in Tortall!" she cried. "Anyone with a spark of magic and half a brain should be able to sense you coming a mile off!"
"I've been hiding for a long time. I've gotten good at it," he said apologetically.
"Explain. Now."
"It's a long story, Onua-"
"Now."
"Ok," he sighed. "You might want to see to the ponies first, though. I think I scared them."
Seeing that he was right, Onua went to the makeshift paddock she'd set up for the ponies and spoke soothingly to them, running gentle hands over their coats and feeding them chunks of apple until they calmed down. When she returned, he'd built up the fire again and was sitting beside it waiting for her.
"I put the wards back up," he told her when she sat down across from him. "I hope you don't mind. I don't think the bandits will be back, but I thought I should do it just in case."
She nodded and looked at him expectantly. He sighed.
"I don't really know where to start…"
"Take your time," Onua said, sticking her fingers into her pouch of eyebright and calling on her Gift.
"You're not taking any chances, are you?" Numair said, eyeing the pouch.
"No," she said simply. "Are you going to explain or not?"
"I am." He took a deep breath and began to talk. "My real name is Arram Draper. I was born in Tyra, but I've been living in Cathak for most of my life, studying at the university. That was where I earned my black robe-"
"Did you say black?" Onua interrupted, digging her fingers further into her eyebright.
"Yes. I'm a black robe mage." Green light flared around his face, and Onua knew he was telling the truth, as unbelievable as it was. "One of my best friends at school was Ozorne. He wasn't emperor then, just a prince." He hesitated. "We were close. I loved him like a brother, but… there was always and edge to him. I never saw it before he was crowned, or maybe I just didn't want to think about it. But when he became emperor, there was no ignoring it. He asked me to do something…" Numair swallowed hard. "I couldn't do what he wanted, not without going against everything I believe, everything I know is right. So I told him no. I should have just slipped away, not said anything to his face, but I thought our friendship would protect me. I was stupid. Ozorne doesn't take disobedience lightly. He said I was a traitor and threw me in his dungeons. That was… unpleasant." Numair shivered slightly and leaned closer to the fire. The eyebright told her that the statement was true, but from the haunted look on Numair's face Onua guessed that it was also the understatement of the century.
"I escaped," he said simply. "One of my teachers, probably the only true friend I had left, helped me get on a ship out of Carthak. I landed in Green Harbor with no money and no friends, knowing that the most powerful man in the world was just across the sea, doing everything in his power to see me dead. So I hid. I changed my name and didn't do anything that might draw attention to myself, didn't even let anyone know I had the Gift because I was afraid that word would somehow get back to Ozorne. I stayed in Green Harbor for about a year. You know the rest." He fell silent. Onua was quiet for a moment, taking in all she had heard. Finally, she shook herself out of her daze and pulled her itching fingers out of the eyebright.
"Thank you for telling me," she said softly. He smiled.
"You didn't give me much choice, did you?"
"No, I suppose I didn't," she laughed. "Let's go to bed. We have a few hours before sunrise, may as well get some rest." Numair nodded in agreement and they went back to their bedrolls. Onua was laying on her back looking up at the stars when a quiet voice drifted to her from across the fire.
"Onua?"
"Hm?"
"Thanks."