Welcome! This story exists because an idea about a kink based magic system gained a mind of its own. If you want to skip to the juicy bits, skip to the #.

Abjuration (magic that blocks, banishes or protects)

Conjuration (magic that produces out of thin air)

Divination (magic that gains the truth about the past, present, future)

Enchantment (magic that can entrance or beguile others)

Evocation (magic that manipulates and taps into energy forces)

Illusion (magic that controls and manipulates the senses)

Transmutation (magic that modifies matter)

Corpimancy (magic of life, death and healing)

Chapter 1: Welcome to the Crux

It’s taken me four full weeks to reach the wizard’s towers in Straetham.

Four full weeks of soggy mountain passes and wetlands. Of being crisped by the spring sun, eaten by mosquitoes and leeches, and nipped by the meanest horse south of Airedale. The sketchy caravan I hitched a ride with managed to get me here though they bled me of every last red cent in the process.

I must be out of my godsdamned mind.

The towers stick up from the ground like the fingers of a buried giant. They’re huge. Bigger than anything in Airedale by at least four stories. Each one is so unique and grand I can’t imagine what must have gone into building them.

One is styled like a fortress of red stone. Another seems to fade away into mist, even though it’s a clear day. I count nine in all, but the grandest is the main tower that juts up from the rest like a beacon. It’s made of a curious white stone that skitters with color – a moving rainbow.

On my long road here, I learned that everyone south of the Hobokins calls it the Crux.

The gate to the courtyard is open. The drawbridge is lowered across the mote, wide and welcoming, yet I can’t bring myself to cross it.

I feel my threadbare clothes and every hole in them. After four full weeks, I’m ragged and dirty, grit so ingrained that I don’t know how I’ll get clean again. Every bug bite and burned patch of skin reminds me that I’m not meant for a place like this. I’m just some ignorant country boy who’s stumbled down the godsdamned mountains at the recommendation of a woman I don’t even know. I have nothing – no money, no name of any consequence. Only the letter from Allisande.

Four weeks is a lot of time to think on that particular uncertainty as well. When Allisande had hired me, I thought it would be another standard escort through the woods. I hadn’t expected such a class looking woman to talk to me, let alone sleep with me, but after I chased off a group of goblins from our camp one night, she’d been grateful. And had been very forward in showing her gratitude. Near demanding, actually, and I wasn’t about to say no to those lush red lips. It had been a whirlwind of a fuck, all adrenaline and teeth and sweat, but I do remember her distinct little “oh” of surprise when I finished.

It wasn’t until we went to part ways at the edge of the woods that she handed me a sealed letter. “In case you want a change of scenery,” she had said, giving me that little half smile that had made my insides go all funny in the first place. Then, she had kissed me on the cheek and headed down the road and out of my life.

It was a letter of introduction to the wizard’s towers in Straetham, claiming I’d be a promising adept. Written on thick, expensive parchment, dated and signed with her name. A personal crest was seared into one corner, and even I know enough to recognize a wizard’s seal.

It had stalled my heart in my chest, reading that. I’m the son of a hunter and a mother I barely remember save that she taught me my letters and how to plant things right so they would grow. How the hell did magic make it into my bloodline? Magic only exists in the blood of the rich, the royal and the reputable, and I’m barely one of those things! It felt unreal, and for some time, I pretended like it was.

The letter stayed tucked in my pocket while I thought on it. Then on the shelf in the cabin while I thought on it some more. Then it went into my mother’s old plant journal, and I stopped thinking about it for awhile.

But priorities changed after the accident that broke my drawing arm. I set it as best as I could, but it didn’t heal right over the winter. When you start to run out of salted meat and pickled vegetables a month before spring, a change of scenery starts looking real good. And what good was a forest guide and hunter who couldn’t draw a bow anymore?

Then again, what good is a coward who’s traveled for four godsdamned weeks just to turn tail at the godsdamned drawbridge?

“Excuse me.”

I nearly jump out of my skin. Gaping like an idiot, I’m blocking the main thoroughfare. I step aside and a woman in dark robes brushes past me. I see a flash of colors on her cuffs, but don’t have time to wonder what they mean before she asks, “Are you lost?”

The question makes me bristle. Even if şişli escort I feel out of place, I’ll be damned if I let someone else tell me I am. “No.” Without thinking, I hand her Allisande’s letter.

The woman’s eyes widen as she brushes a thumb over Allisande’s seal. She must read the letter twice because she’s quiet for a long moment. It gives me time to take her in. She’s close to my age, a southerner with skin as brown as fresh-tilled earth. Curly black hair hangs wild around her face, just brushing her shoulders. She’s beautiful, with high cheekbones and full lips that I’m getting distracted looking at. But when her shrewd brown eyes focus on me, a knot of uncertainty tightens in my gut. “This is dated over a year ago,” she says.

“I was busy ’till now.”

The woman opens her mouth to ask something else but decides against it. “Well, come on then,” she says, all business. She makes her way across the bridge, her robes billowing behind her.

I hesitate for only a second before I follow.

Inside, the courtyard is more a garden than the wizard rallying area I was expecting. A small pond rests against one wall, shaded by dripping willows. Fruit trees dot the grounds, and this time of year, they’re all in bloom, making the whole yard smell sweet. A gravel path cuts through the grass to the main entry of the Crux. I spot other wizards – eating lunch in the shade, reading a book by the pond. There’s even a couple engaging in the most ambitious form of tongue wrestling I’ve seen in some time.

“Your name is Dominai?” the lady-wizard asks me. She doesn’t slow her pace as I gawk. I wonder if she used some sort of magic to learn it before I remember that Allisande had named me in her letter. I clear the embarrassment from my throat.

“Yeah, that’s right. Most call me Dom.”

“I’m Galiva,” the woman says. “I assume Allisande tested you for magical aptitude?” The blank stare I give her is answer enough. “I take it that you’ve never studied magic in any official capacity.”

“You’d guess right,” I say. “Allisande just recommended I come here.”

Galiva opens the door to the Crux and gives me a look that could scour a pot. “Not just anyone can do magic,” she points out, like I don’t already know that. “You study it to perfect it, but without the spark, you won’t make it that far. And since Allisande isn’t here to vouch for your aptitude in person, I’ll have to.”

Inside of the Crux, the stained glass windows and marble columns look expensive enough to feed a village like Airedale for a lifetime. I feel something like vertigo when I step in, a tingle in the hairs on the nape of my neck. It even smells different, like magic is somehow infused into the incense that wafts from censers on the wall.

“And what happens if I fail?” I ask and try to blink the fog away.

Galiva shrugs. “You won’t be able to study as a wizard, but if you’re looking for work, there may be other places for you here. We rarely turn people away if they walk across our drawbridge.”

That comes as a surprise. “Awful generous of you.”

Galiva shrugs again and leads me down one of the many halls that branch out of the Crux. “Since Prince Thermilious became King Thermilious, a certain amount of stigma has been put onto the magical community. We aren’t exactly drawing crowds across our drawbridge.” She says his name like it leaves a sour taste in her mouth. Even as far as Airedale, I had heard about the young king’s dislike of magic, though I hadn’t realized it would have an impact on recruitment.

Galiva leads me to a small, but modest room. There’s nothing but an empty desk and a bed stacked with fresh linens. “Please, store your things here. This room will be yours for the time being.”

It’s a relief to toss my heavy pack on the floor, though I set my unstrung bow down a little more careful. Galiva gives me that scrutinizing look again. “You need a bath,” she declares.

She’s right. There’s only so much cold creeks and rivers can do for a person. I don’t even take offense to the implication that I stink. “Follow me.”

She leads me down a twisting stair at the end of the hall. Even before we reach the bottom, I feel hot steam. A whiff of clean smelling soap follows right after. Galiva disappears into a side room before returning a moment later with a towel and a neatly folded bundle of clothes. She sees my questioning look and says, “You’ve been traveling for some time and your clothes don’t look like they’ll make the trip back, if it comes to that. Just take them.”

I grab the bundle with a small murmur of thanks. I’m not normally one for handouts, and these definitely aren’t some threadbare garb. She’s given me a clean linen shirt and durable grey breeches that are better quality than any of what I own. “Take your time and meet me in the Crux when you’re finished. You remember the way?”

“I think so,” I say, though immediately wish I had been paying closer taksim escort attention.

Galiva looks me over and her expression softens. I think she can tell I’m a little overwhelmed. “Up the stairs and to the left, and then your second right. Follow the incense. You can’t miss it.”

I run a hand through my hair and smile. She returns it, and the change it makes on her face is startling. She goes from beautiful to radiant. Her eyes rake over me one more time and I see something like curiosity in her gaze. “Enjoy,” she says before sweeping back up the stairs.

I watch her go and let out a long sigh, hardly able to believe I’m actually here. There are a lot of rumors about wizards. One is that they work fast, and that’s definitely no lie. I made that first step across the bridge and entered a new world. Swept into the heart of the Crux in the blink of an eye.

And it’s hot down here. Steam thickens the air, wafting up from the nine pools that are carved straight into the white stone. They’re all different sizes, and while they’re all clear, some have a tint of color in the water. Faint greens and blues. I don’t know one from the other, but fortunately, all seem to be empty.

The one in the back glows a clear blue, and it seems as good as any. I check around before I strip my clothes off. I’m not keen on the idea of a public bath, but even less when I’m carrying four weeks of filth on me. Sticky and gritty enough that my boots and socks try to stay stuck. Galiva’s not wrong about my clothes – there are holes in the elbows of my shirt big enough to fit my fist through.

I plunge my foot into the water only to jump back with a yelp. It’s as frigid as a spring runoff. I feel a little betrayed and kick my ragged clothes over to the steaming pool next to it before I slide into the water quick. A little too quick. The water is almost too hot, but I can’t stop a groan as the grime of travel starts to loosen. The heat is pure relief on my travel-weary body, and not for the first time, I blame my da for never teaching me to ride a horse.

For a second, I just sit there and think about what it must be like to do this every day. And if I pass whatever this aptitude test is, I actually could.

There’s a bar of soap on a small tray at the pool’s edge along with some bottles of sweet smelling liquid. A steady trickle of water tells me the baths filter water out and in. I don’t want to make Galiva wait, and I’ve got a ways to go before I’m clean. I make good work of it.

I just start to scrub the dirt that’s caked itself into the skin of my ankles when I hear footsteps coming down the stairs. A man steps into the baths, barefoot and walking a little tender. He pads over to the ice bath across from me, loosening the tie of his robe from around his waist.

Thick black hair hangs loose around his handsome face, falling past his shoulders. He’s got warm russet skin, a strong jaw and a lean build that makes me wonder how gangly he’d been as a teenager before he grew into himself. An idle smile plays across his face, and he looks like his thoughts are as far away as Airedale. He doesn’t seem to notice me as he gets to the edge of the ice bath and lets his robe drop.

I barely stop a gasp.

His back and ass are a mess of red welts, some raw enough to look like they had been bleeding. Under the new, I see the bruises of older lashes, as if he’s been whipped with a belt. He steps into the pool and sinks up to his waist, letting out a shuddering gasp that fades to a groan of pleasure. He relaxes into the chilled water, a smile spreading over his face. He seems awful happy for someone who had the shit beat out of him recently.

As if he finally feels my gaze, he opens his eyes. He looks a little surprised when he sees me, and for a moment, he simply stares, like he’s trying to decide if he recognizes me. His hand drifts to his necklace – an elaborate thing with four strands full of different colored marbles and rings. He toys with one of the beads. “You’re new?” he asks, his voice holding an accent I can’t place.

“Just in,” I say. I try to sound casual, like I haven’t seen the massacre that is his backside.

The man sinks a further little into the pool, water lapping over his chest. “Do you know what school you’d like to study?” he asks.

It only seems polite to answer, though I don’t even know what schools there are. “Dunno. What’d you choose?”

“I’m an evoker,” he says. “Nuanced and challenging, but very worthwhile.”

My stomach drops a little. I don’t know much about magic, but I’ve heard the rumors of how it’s done. Blood and sweat, some claim. Others say it is some sort of ritual. Either way, I’d bet my last copper that’s how his back got like that. What’s so nuanced about getting the shit whipped out of you?

I shake the thought off and grab my towel before pulling myself from the pool. I don’t want to leave, but having someone else down çapa escort here makes it a little less welcoming. Besides, I’m clean and have made Galiva wait long enough.

The man watches me through heavily lidded eyes, that same satisfied smile spread across his face. Something about his attention makes my stomach squirm, not unlike Allisande’s effect on me. Maybe it’s a wizard thing.

“See you around, yeah?” he calls as I gather my things.

“Maybe so,” I say before hurrying up the stairs.

#

Galiva is waiting in the Crux, just as she said, but she’s not alone. She’s talking to a rather severe looking wizard. He’s older than me, swarthy with a big build, though he’s taller than he is wide. His short hair is dark, though flecks of gray touch his temples. In his hand is Allisande’s letter. He glances up as I approach, suspicion evident on his face.

“You’ll let me know how the test goes?” he asks, but he’s talking to Galiva.

“Of course,” Galiva says while her eyes give me a good once-over, a grin quirking her lips. The man tucks the letter into his pocket. I debate asking for it back, but he disappears down the corridor before I can get a chance.

Galiva smiles, and motions for me to follow her. “Have a good bath?” she asks and leads me down yet another hall and up a winding staircase.

“Best I’ve ever had,” I say, and it’s the truth. “It’s a hell of a perk.”

Galiva chuckles, and I gotta admit I like the sound of it. “It’s not the only one,” she says. “Magical study is challenging, but most find it very worthwhile.”

The hall we emerge on is lined sparsely with doors. If there is anyone behind them, they’re either too quiet to hear or the hall is witched into silence. Galiva opens one of them and ushers me inside.

Behind it is a sparse room. Stone walls and floors, a window in the corner. It’s empty other than a heavy wooden cabinet and a couple of chairs.

“So, Dom,” she says and closes the door behind us. “Do you know what a magical aptitude test entails?” There’s something mischievous twinkling in her brown eyes. She wears a smirk that promises secrets. It makes me as nervous as I am excited.

“I’m sure you’re gonna tell me.”

She chuckles. “How about I explain as we go? Take off your clothes.”

Heat floods my face. “What? Why?”

Galiva discards her robe carelessly over the back of one chair. Underneath, she’s wearing tight riding breeches that hug the curve of her hips, high boots and a flowing cotton shirt that she’s rolled up to her elbows. “Because we’re going to have sex,” she says matter-o-factly.

I gape at her. Allisande was beautiful, but Galiva is about three cities out of my league. “W-what?”

“If you’re not comfortable with intimate contact, there’s still a place for you if you have magic in your blood, but this will turn into a very different kind of aptitude test. Are you averse to sex?” she asks, sounding a little amused.

I clear my throat, realizing that she’s serious. “Oh. Well, no. I’m definitely alright with that,” I say, and the thought of being able to touch her rich brown skin makes heat run straight to my groin.

“Good,” she says. “Then take off your clothes.”

Her eyes crinkle with a hint of wicked pleasure. I’m sure I’m red as the setting sun, but I lift my shirt over my head. My breeches go next, but when I get to my undergarments, I give her a questioning look. I’m more used to doing things in the dark, but the late afternoon sun shines through the window like a spotlight. The amused tilt of her head is all the answer I get, so I discard those next and shiver as gooseflesh breaks out over my bare skin though the room isn’t cold.

“Good boy,” she says and something in her voice makes the heat in my face flood to the rest of me. “Now, there are a couple of things you need to know as we do this.”

I watch as she circles around me. She’s also got a multi-strand necklace, filled with the same marbles and rings, but this close, I can see that they’re glowing. A low, gentle light. She toys with a pink marble, and I see it flash before the light in it winks out. A curious tingle spreads over my skin, but it’s gone so quick I could believe I imagined it. “The first is that we can stop at any time,” she says. “I will check in regularly to be sure you’re alright. If you are uncomfortable at any time, say the magic word and I will stop.”

“What’s the magic word?” I ask.

“Stop.” She chuckles as I flush a degree hotter and walks behind me, one finger trailing over my shoulder. The touch is a shock, but not an unwelcome one. I shiver. “It seems mundane, but it’s a powerful word in the Crux. If you violate a stop, you’ll be expelled immediately, understand?”

“Right, got it.”

“Good.” She gives me a gentle shove to the center of the room. “Now, stand still.”

Galiva walks to the large cabinet and opens the door. She pulls out a large pillow and tosses it at my feet. I blink at it, but then she pulls out a small black cloth and a long coil of rope.

“Now, the second thing to remember – especially for this spell, is that you are safe,” she says as she approaches me. “You may be nervous, but know that the spell will fail if you are genuinely afraid. Hence the first rule – stop me if you ever feel that way.”