The Lies of the Mages by Wen Wen Yang

“Your loved ones will love these sparkling jewels!” An Earth Master claims as he raises his arms over his head to get the customers’ attention. Another mage asserts that only he has the freshest vegetation. The crowds do not respond to the shouting, finding it commonplace.

Zelire frowns at the merchandise, keeping her arms crosses to show her disinterest. Dressed plainly, no one gives her a second glance, believing this traveler to be without goods to barter. Finding a Matter Master’s booth, Zelire looks over the detailed inscriptions on the male tunics. A shadow covers one of the tunics she is looking over. Glancing upwards, she sees the female Matter Master politely gesturing at her work.

“These are for males. Perhaps you would like to see the other clothes.” Her cheeks lift as she smiles broadly to spare the traveler some humiliation. Zelire straightens, realizing the mage can see through her disguise. With her plain brown eyes, Zelire stares at the female.

An illusion forms before the Matter Master’s eyes. Instead of a young female with flowing black hair lying on her shoulders, she sees a lean, handsome male with slightly longer hair than most travelers. The illusion vanishes as soon as she realizes her mistake.

With a nod, she scurries to her other customers. Zelire turns back to the tunics and picks out the plainest ones. Sifting through her bag that hangs on her back, she finds the second-freshest healing herbs. She hands it to the Matter Master in exchange for the tunics. A blush rises onto the vender’s cheeks as she takes the herbs. In a whisper, the vender adds, “If you require any aid, I will be here every breaking of light. It is a difficult task to be a female in these areas.”

Zelire nods and turns away to another booth. The mage had made her uneasy. Her intent is to be mistaken for a male. She considers cutting her hair again.

“Please help me!” A shout erupts from the back gates of the marketplace. “I’m blind. Please, someone help me!” Zelire follows the crowd to the gates, wondering who would make such a claim.

A man, in clothing that appears little more than rags, stumbles from an uneven stone in the road. He falls, clawing blindly at the air. Dirt covers his Star colored hair, making it a light brown. Lifting himself by his elbows, he struggles to stand from his injuries. Several children of the venders rush forward and laugh at the fallen man. One youth takes a nearby pebble and throws it. It catches the man on his temple, knocking him to the ground. The other children take up the sport. The crowd merely watches.

“Stop that!” Zelire shouts before she can stop herself. The crowd parts away, letting her pass to the children and fallen man. A large pebble knocks into the back of his head, releasing blood.

“You low-life, turd eating, spawn of maggots! Get away from him!” She curses at the children. Each one races to a safe haven behind their parents’ back. The parents start to scorn their children, though they had allowed them to attack the mage only a moment ago. Each of them mumbles their apologies.

The same youth who initiated the attack smirks. “Not!” He shouts and races into the crowd. No one bothers to follow him. Zelire hopes the youth will one day disrespect the wrong person and learn his lesson in the slowest, most painful manner.

Zelire bends to the injured man’s level and takes his pale hands. “Please,” he starts as his clear brown eyes search for a face in his private darkness. His skin tone shows his lack of exposure to the Star’s light. “You have to help me. I am a first-born prince and I am sure my magedom will give you riches for returning me safely.” He winces as Zelire helps him to stand. He is less than a hand span above her.

“Where is your magedom?” Zelire asks softly as the crowd returns to their business. The alleged prince shakes his head. “I don’t know where I am. I only remember going to sleep in my magedom, with my sight, and awakening blind. The rest you know.” Zelire frowns at his story but decides to find proof of his lies before abandoning him in the marketplace.

“What is the name of your magedom?” She asks as she places an arm around his waist to guide him. She searches the booths for a trusting face.

“Every first born is named Gunade, as is our reign.” He says as he struggles to keep pace with his fast moving guide. A sudden turn nearly sends him to the floor again but the arm around his waist is strong, keeping him close.

Zelire finally finds the booth. The Matter Master looks at her as if she holds a dead creature in her arms, rather than a man. “I need your aid.” Zelire states as she gestures at the supposed prince. With a nod, the Matter Master gestures to the back of the booth. Zelire and the prince enter through a side flap of the booth. The vender gently lays the male onto a heap of fabric in the back shadows. Taking a cloth, she dips it into a nearby water pail and starts to clean the wounds. The male bites his lip at the pain.

“Can you tell us where is the magedom of Gunade?” Zelire asks as she keeps a watchful eye on the customers walking past the booth. The Matter Master nods as she finishes the last of the wounds. Taking the same herbs she had received earlier, she places them onto the wounds and bandages them. With a black strip of thick black fabric, she covers the supposed prince’s eyes.

“Wait, what are you doing?” Gunade objects as he tries to remove the strip. Zelire frowns, believing this to be her first sign of his lies.

“Your eyes are clear, meaning you have the ability to see, but you obviously cannot. Whatever may be causing this blindness, it can be resolved. You must preserve your eyes until then, or else you will burn them out by looking at the Star.” The Matter Master starts at the male and takes off the strip for a moment. Swiftly, she rushes a fist at his face. She stops less than a hand span from him. He does not blink nor wince. Narrowing her eyes, she lowers her fist and brings her face close to his. She receives no reaction. After drawing in a quick breath, she blows forcefully into his eyes. He finally winces and blinks. She returns the strip to its place over his eyes, satisfied that he is truly blind.

“The magedom,” She starts again, “is far from here, about a fortnight by walking. It controls most of the land outside of this marketplace. One of its border starts about a breaking’s walk from the back gates. Afterwards, it is their territory. The magedom should be in the center of its land, though I do not know the full extent of its reaches.” The master stands and walks to the front of the booth to persuade disinterested buyers.

“Does that sound like your magedom?” Zelire asks as she helps Gunade to stand. “It is.” He answers with a pained smile. Zelire leads him out of the booth and starts for the back gates of the market.

“Wait,” the Matter Master calls out. Zelire releases Gunade’s waist and returns to the vender. “Be careful.” She warns as she takes out a small bag. “Aid is often punished. This,” She hands the bag to Zelire. It is light though its sides seem ready to burst. “This is needed for the travel. I wish you safety and the best of luck.” She whispers before turning away to a possible customer. Zelire stashes the gift into her bag and races back to Gunade. He has not moved since she left. Taking his wrist, she leads him out of the market place.

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