Welcome! This month I’m writing a small story each day to try to brainstorm a future full-length novel, a sequel to my current WIP Memories and Magic, which is tentatively titled Rebels and Rebellions.
Today’s prompt is: Moral.
Clara awoke with a gasp. Her body was tingling all over. She knew exactly what it meant but she couldn’t imagine how her magic had returned to her here. She sent a rush of heat to her wrists and the rope that was binding them. There was a hiss and the bonds fell away. Clara massaged her neck; it was stiff from where her head had drooped while she slept.
If her magic had returned, that had to mean that some of her friends were around somewhere.
Max? she fed the thought through the ether. Rikard?
It was Max’s voice that she heard reply inside her head. She spared a brief grin, imagining Rikard’s reaction to her voice inside his head. He’d be too startled to try to reply.
Clara? It worked!
Yes! I can’t tell you how this feels! Give me a minute; I’ll come to find you.
Clara stood up, stamping on the spot a bit to get her blood circulating through her legs again. She pulled the tent flap aside and saw a woman standing guard. The movement of the tent flap attracted the woman’s attention and she turned around. Clara thrust one hand forward; the air between them followed her motion, knocking the other woman to the ground.
“What are you-” The woman was winded, and only managed to gasp out half the sentence.
Clara couldn’t help but smirk; that was the mood she was in. “That’s what you get when you tangle with the real magicians,” she said, then stalked away. With her own powers back, there was little the Racharan magicians would be able to do to stop her.