"The world is veiled in Darkness.

The wind stops, the sea is wild, and the earth begins to rot.

The people wait, their only hope, a prophecy:

When the world is in darkness, the Light Warriors will come."

In the library of Cornelia's White Hall, she sat in a window that faced the sea. This morning, there had been a ship on the horizon, but it had docked by now, its high mast just visible above the shops in the lower town. She wasn't looking at the ship anyway – one ship is much like any other. No, she was looking at her charm.

It was sea glass, worn into an almost perfect sphere, caught in a web of thin cord, like a net meant to catch very small fish. She wore it on her wrist on a bracelet of woven twine and she twisted it around and around so that the bauble caught the light and reflected it back in blue and green waves, like the sea.

"Lena? Have you heard anything I've said?"

She started at the sound of her name and looked up to see Father Branford, white robes freshly starched, white eyebrows wild above his ever-present smile. She always had trouble looking him in the eye, with those eyebrows to contend with. "I'm sorry, Father. I was distracted."

"Ah, yes," said Father Branford, radiating mirth. "Thinking of going for a swim?"

Lena nodded, blushing. By now, it was obvious to her instructors, and a source of much amusement for them, that she couldn't go more than a handful of days without a good swim, not and still be an attentive pupil. The constant press of so many people around her built up in her head like a buzzing noise - the water was the only thing that could quiet it down.

The only difficulty lie in finding a good place to swim. At home, a coastal village half a world away, she could practically step outside her door and dive in. Here, there was only one place she could go: a secluded corner of the harbor where the sea wall formed a sheltered area far from both the docks and the harbor mouth. She could have swum a straight line across the harbor to it in a matter of minutes but the dock area was considered unsafe for swimming. Instead, she had to circle around half the city to come at the harbor from the other side.

"That's just why I was speaking to you. I have a potion here for a shopkeeper named Beebury, a chandler near Pike Street. Do you know the place?"

"I know Pike Street, Father." It was near to her swimming spot.

"Good. Beebury's shop is at the corner with the fountain shaped like a boar, the one that was damaged in the last quake. If you deliver the potion for me, I won't expect to see you back until third chime. How would that be?"

Lena nodded again. It would be plenty of time.

She set out toward Pike Street with her head down, white hood raised. People were amiable toward white mages, many muttering friendly greetings as she passed, but none would stop a fully hooded mage who walked with a purpose – the hood meant business.

Of course, she'd taken to wearing it whenever she went out for any reason. If it had been up to her, she would never have gone out at all, not during the day when everyone else was about. It wasn't that she was unfriendly, or disliked people – goodness, she loved people! A white mage's power thrived on a love of people – but there were so many. Lena hadn't been able to adjust to city life after – what had it been? – seven years now. So many people, with so many emotions. She tried to shut them out as she walked, but some days it was difficult.

The guard house nearest White Hall had been damaged during the last quake – or was it the one before that? – and Lena could sense the repairmen, two brothers, arguing again, though she didn't know what about. Behind it, Black Hall loomed, angular and intimidating, but nearly empty. Only a few elderly black mages remained there. The practice of black magic had been outlawed in Cornelia for years, so that any young person who discovered a talent for black magic had to leave the city for their training. Still, most people crossed the street rather than walk near the place. Their fear and suspicion wafted toward Lena like smoke.

It saddened her. Lena had gone to Black Hall often with Father Branford to Cure the ailments that came with old age. Despite the rumors that their dark practices were somehow causing the quakes and the storms that had been devastating the countryside lately, the black mages that Lena knew were kind. Some had even advised the king on the nature of the current disasters. The law against practicing black magic didn't forbid studying its theory, and many of those who had honed their craft before the ban were respected by the king, if not his council.

Farther on, she cut across the fish market, trying not to touch anyone – it was crowded, but it was the shortest path to Pike Street. People were discussing the quakes with a mixture of acceptance and fear. The surge of emotions was nearly overwhelming, but with a moment's concentration she was able to shut out most of them. "Biggest one yet," she heard someone say. "I'm surprised the castle wasn't damaged."

Someone else said, "First ship we've seen in a week," and that caught her attention. She was often absorbed in her studies and didn't pay much mind to gossip, but that seemed the sort of thing she should have noticed. Even the harbor in her tiny home village saw more than one ship a week. Had travel really grown so treacherous?

She turned toward the speakers, a dockhand and a fishmonger. The dock worker said, "Could be you won't see another one for several weeks more. I heard the captain say the mouth of the bay collapsed behind them – it was just after that other quake, the bigger one."

Now that was concerning. Her own home was well beyond the Aldean Sea – if the bay was closed off, the journey was nearly impossible. Not that she was free to return home with her studies unfinished, but still, she had always been able to send and receive word. She wanted to go to the docks and talk to the captain, ask him what exactly he'd seen…

She felt the commotion in the crowd before she heard it, the ripple of alarm and curiosity, then the murmurs of surprise. She heard a man shout, "Thief!" and turned toward the sound, directly into the path of a young boy, who ran right into her, knocking her down.

She landed painfully on her backside, losing her grip on Mr. Beebury's potion, which landed beside her with a crunch of breaking glass. She spared it no thought. She was a white mage, after all, and her first instinct was to check on the boy, who had fallen just as hard as she had.

He was perhaps ten or eleven, small, with a cheeky grin and bright, smiling eyes. He appeared to be alright. "Excuse me," he said quickly, pushing up to his feet. A single step found him slipping in the spilled potion and coming down hard on his hands and knees.

"Be careful!" Lena said. "The glass!" She felt hands behind her, helping her up – the dockworker she'd been listening to. When she'd steadied herself, she reached a hand down toward the boy, but he was suddenly and roughly snatched away.

A man in a long black coat held the boy roughly by his shirt front in one black-gloved fist. The cut of the coat, along with the wooden staff strapped across the man's back, declared him to be a black mage. Lena couldn't see his face – what features weren't obscured by his high collar and wide-brimmed hat were covered by a gray scarf pulled up over his mouth and nose – but his eyes glowed with fire. Not a real flame, like the one that bloomed even now in his other hand, dancing over but not consuming the glove, but the fiery aurora of black magic. Onlookers shrank back from the display, leaving her alone in an ever-widening circle with the man and the hapless boy. She watched the man – the black mage – lift his hand high as if he would strike the boy with the fire, and she felt his sharp stab of anger.

"No!" Lena cried.

But the man only shouted, "Return it! Now!"

The boy extended a trembling hand and Lena saw that he was clutching a small pouch. The fire winked out as the black mage snatched it back. Relief flooded over her – her own, the boy's, and, she was surprised to realize, the mage's, as he hefted the bag in his hand to check its contents and apparently found them in order.

She had no time to wonder what was so important to him, however, as a contingent of guards swarmed into the market, swords drawn, surrounding them.

"Drop him!" one said.

The mage immediately complied, hands raised in an unthreatening gesture. Lena rushed the few steps to the boy, checking him for injuries. "Are you alright?" she asked.

The boy only nodded, too frightened to speak.

One of the guards lowered his sword and approached the boy. "Thadius Shipman," he said, clapping the boy companionably on the shoulder, though Lena saw that he gripped it ever so slightly in case the boy might run. "We meet again so soon."

The boy grimaced. "Hello, Carmine."

"Guardsman Carmine," the guard corrected.

"Yes, sir."

The other guards encircled the black mage. One of them barked, "Black magic is forbidden within city walls, mage!" but as he spoke, Lena became aware of a low humming, like distant thunder that went on and on. It wasn't an earthquake, but she felt it in her bones. As she looked around for the source of it, she caught the black mage's eye and knew he felt it too.

She started to say something, but his eyes darted down to her side and locked on something there. She looked down, and saw a light. In its cord on her wrist, her lucky charm glowed blue. It hummed louder - for it was the source of the humming she'd felt - when she lifted it up for a better look.

Beside her, a second hum resonated with her own. Another glow drew her eye to the yellow jewel in the pommel of the young guardsman's sword. "What…" he started to ask, but the hum grew in volume, drowning him out.

She looked toward the boy, whose eyes grew wide as his belly began to glow green. Shrugging off the guard's unresisting hand, he reached into his collar, pulling a long chain out from beneath his shirt. On the end of the chain, Lena saw, he had his own lucky charm, identical to her own but for the color.

She looked between the boy and the guard and then, though she didn't know why, she looked toward the mage. As if her gaze was an invitation, he stepped slowly toward her. One of the guards, braver than the others, protested and stepped forward to stop him, but his words were drowned out by the hum and one of his companions pulled him back.

The black mage stood right in front of her now, staring at her lucky charm. He tore his gaze away long enough to open the pouch he had lately retrieved from the boy, to pour it out into his hand. Though his face was still covered, she could read shock and wonder in his eyes. Another jewel glowed in his gloved palm, red as the fire he'd summoned before. The hum intensified in both pitch and volume, causing some of the guards to cover their ears in a vain attempt to block it out, but it wasn't a true sound. The light grew brighter, each jewel's glow flowing into and mixing with the others until all Lena could see was a blinding whiteness.

And then, quite suddenly, it stopped, leaving them in the harbor market square as if nothing had ever happened.

Author's Note: Thank you for joining me for chapter 2. So, confession time: I'm clueless about fan fiction. I had no idea this website existed until about a week ago. However, several months ago, when I started writing this story and didn't know what to do with it, a friend showed me Ao3 and I started posting it there. So while I am planning to continue adding at least one chapter per week here on this site, Ao3 is running about ten chapters ahead. If you like what you see and you're impatient for the next chapter, feel free to look it up over there.