Chapter 2 Seranni
When I woke, it was long past dawn.
The light of a late winter morning pushed its way through the thin linen curtains of my bedroom, brushing the walls with muted gold. It should have felt comforting, the promise of a new day, but I awoke to a weight pressing against my chest, a familiar heaviness that had nothing to do with sleep.
I sat up, the blanket pooling around my waist as I rubbed my face with both hands. My hair tumbled loose from its braid, the dark curls tangling in a way that promised a morning battle with my comb.
The room smelled faintly of lavender and cedarwood, the last traces of a sachet I had tucked beneath my pillow months ago. The single bed was small, but cozy. A simple woven throw hung over the back of the chair beside my writing desk, and a stack of folded skirts and blouses sat neatly atop the small chest by the wall. It wasn’t much, but it was mine.
It was home.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed, my bare feet brushing against the cool wooden floor. The chill jolted me awake more effectively than any splash of water ever could. The pale light revealed the rough-hewn simplicity of the space—wooden beams crossed overhead, their edges softened by age. The scent of snow hung in the air, creeping in through gaps in the window frame.
Today was a day that could change everything. Or it could change nothing.
If I hurried, I could make it to the guild meeting on time.
The healer’s guild.
The words carried a weight that I hadn’t expected when I was younger. The guild wasn’t just a place where medicine was practiced—it was power. Respect. Stability. The right to be part of something larger than myself.
And they wouldn’t let me in.
The guild master had agreed to meet me today, giving me a chance to plead my case, to make him understand why I should be allowed to join. I couldn’t let this chance go to waste.
Even if my eyes felt gritty and my brain felt like it was struggling through molasses. My body cried out for more sleep, but there was no time. After thinking about it for weeks, I’d finally gathered up the courage to go visit the mage’s tower last night, and now my body was paying the price for missing out on my sleep.
I cursed under my breath as I rolled out of bed and ruthlessly dragged my hair into a knot. I still had my morning chores to handle before I could go out.
I stumbled through my morning ablutions. A cup of tea would help me wake up, I hoped. I dressed quickly, pulling on a clean blouse of soft linen and a woolen skirt the color of spring moss. My fingers paused over my mother’s shawl, a well-worn piece of indigo fabric embroidered with tiny golden stars. I draped it around my shoulders with care, tucking the ends neatly at my waist.
When I caught my reflection in the mirror above the washbasin, I almost laughed. No amount of shawls or careful braids could make me look like anything other than what I was—young, determined, and poor.
But there was something else in my eyes this morning. Hope, fragile but stubborn.
The fire in the kitchen had gone out overnight, so I crouched by the hearth, striking flint and kindling until warmth flickered to life. The kettle found its place on the iron hook above the flames, and I busied myself with slicing a small wedge of cheese and the last of the bread I’d baked two days ago.
The bread was dry and the cheese crumbly, but I ate quickly, my mind already racing ahead to the meeting with Master Fera, the guildmaster. My hands worked mechanically, spreading butter onto the bread, brushing crumbs from the table, and pouring tea into a clay mug that was older than I was.
The tea’s warmth spread through me, a comfort against the cold, but it wasn’t enough to ease the knot of worry in my stomach.
My stomach rebelled as I bolted down my food, sipping at my hot tea, my thoughts going back to last night and the man I had met at the mage’s tower.
He’d said he wasn’t a mage, but who was he? When he’d started to chase me, I’d been terrified, expecting to feel a spell strike me in the back at any moment. Then when he’d caught me, his dark mien, hidden under his shadowy cloak hadn’t served to reassure me in any manner. His eyes had been so dark that they’d been nearly black under the moonlight, just like his hair, which had been long and shaggy, hanging over his forehead and obscuring much of his features. Even then, I’d been able to see that he was scruffy, with the shadow of a beard on his chin and the tunic under his cloak that had seen better days.
But for all that, he’d been handsome. His eyes had gleamed with intelligence, and his mouth had the look of a man who smiled often and freely.
He intrigued me, this man who was not a mage.
Would I learn who he was when I saw him again tonight?
And how was he connected to the mage? The man was famous, even if no one in town had ever actually seen him.
One day last year, we all heard that a tower had been built in the woods near the mountains, and it was off limits to everyone in Vilusia because one of the King’s mages would be living there.
He’d moved in last summer, at the height of the war with the Drakazov kingdom. He’d occasionally sent his men into Vilusia for supplies, what little could be found in our little town—food, paper, and ink—and then he’d holed himself up in the tower all through fall and winter, this year and the last, without coming out again.
Old Georg, who had retired from the army, liked to say that the mage was obviously working on some secret magical weapon for the war, and we’d all find out when it was time for it be revealed it to the King, but no one had really believed the old man. Before it could be proved one way or another, though, the ceasefire came, and then the armistice had followed. And before we knew it, the war with Drakazov was over as suddenly as it had started.
It was cause for celebration—we’d all lived with the fear that our little town would be overrun with the barbaric soldiers of the West, and now suddenly, everything was back to normal again.
Which meant that my reprieve was over.
While the war had been raging and the young men of Vilusia had been drafted into the army, the guild masters were content to let women take up more power in the guilds. They needed someone to do all the work, of course.
But once the war had come to an end and it was clear that the men would start to return, it meant that the women, too, had to go back to the places they had occupied before the war—under the thumbs of the men in their lives.
And I, as an unmarried young woman, had no place in the healers’ guild. It would’ve been different if my father were still here, if he could sign for me—but well, that’s why I was working so hard to make it easier for him to return.
He’d left two summers ago, before the King had declared war on Drakazov. He’d left me some money for living expenses, and I had managed to supplement it by bartering and trading my healing services for supplies or money. Father had promised to write and send for me once he’d found work and settled down somewhere new, and I’d been waiting to hear from him. But it didn’t mean I was doing nothing in the meanwhile.
I was making plans of my own. If I could get a permanent spot in the healer’s guild, I could send for my father instead.
After all, if it was at all possible for Father to return to Vilusia, surely, he would prefer to return home? The only thing stopping us from living together was the fact that there was no job here that paid Father enough to keep us both.
When he returned and saw how much more useful I was, how much I could help contribute to our income, surely, he’d stay back.
And we’d finally be a family again.
And what if the Guildmaster refuses to give you a place in the guild?
I pushed the thought away. I would do my best, but of course, I was not so foolish as to pin all my hopes on Master Fera. I knew what he was like, after all.
No, if I wasn’t allowed to join the guild, I was going to leave Vilusia.
I swallowed hard at the thought. It had been a secret dream of mine, one that I had scarcely hoped would ever come true.
A life away from Vilusia, somewhere where I could be free . For the first time in my life, the dream felt like it was in my grasp. With the war ended, the borders were open again, even if they were heavily guarded. Father and I could go anywhere, be anything.
Maybe I could even live openly as a witch.
As long as I remained in my homeland, if I ever performed my magic openly, I would be drafted into the army, sent off to fight the King’s wars. There was no other option for mages and witches in Telluria.
Which was why my father and I had decided to hide my magic, ever since it had manifested when I was twelve.
If I was exposed, I would be carted off to the capital and I would never see my father again. And he needed me. Who else would look after him, if not me?
Normally, that meant I would’ve avoided the tower like my life depended on it—which it did—but now, I couldn’t afford to ignore my one chance at making my family whole again.
When old Mother Narr had mentioned that the tower was looking vacant, and that her son had told her that it was many weeks since he’d seen candlelight in the tower, I knew I had to take the chance. If the mage had truly left in a hurry when the ceasefire had been announced, I had to learn what I could from the tower.
I did what I could in secret, of course, stretching my magic and using it to brew healing potions and make them magically potent, but it wasn’t enough. I wanted to learn more . I had heard of mages and witches making money from their magic in other countries.
It had been years since I’d seen a travelling magician. Once, they had been a common sight, before the current King had ascended the throne of Telluria and commandeered all magic for his wars.
But I remembered what they’d told me. And I’d heard it again and again, from the merchants who travelled across the continent. Life was different in the Four Kingdoms. There, magic users were valued, but not indentured to their kings. They were free.
If Father and I could escape from Vilusia, could I be free, too?
The future unfurled before me, bright with possibilities.
Of course, I would prefer to stay in Vilusia, in my hometown. I could work with the guild, and my father would return and we could stay in Vilusia, in the home my parents had shared until my mother’s death, where I could still the echoes of her love for me.
But all my plans depended on the guild master here agreeing to let me join the healers’ guild. And the guild was resistant.
It infuriated me, how little these men cared for my skills. I could not heal openly with my magic, so I was left to brew tonics and make herbal pain remedies. And I was stellar at my work, it came to me naturally, my magic guiding me intuitively.
But the old men on the guild thought that bloodletting and binding bones was what made them healers, as if my work was lowly and unworthy of admiration or regard. All I was doing was brewing tonics, they said, as if they were nothing more than a soup or a stew.
I’d been petitioning Master Fera, the guild master, for the right to join the guild, and he’d been showing signs of being swayed to my side—before the blasted war had come to an end.
Now, faced with the return of all the men who had gone off to war, he was growing reluctant to grant me a place in the guild.
Master Fera had told me his concerns last week, but it hadn’t made hearing it any easier.
What would the men say if they saw women in the guilds? Master Fera had frowned, and shaken his head as he had continued, warming to his theme.
Oh, it was fine for the tradesmen’s wives, they were just ‘looking after’ their husbands’ businesses while the men were at war, but an unmarried young woman like me? Why, I was practically stealing food from the mouth of a deserving young man who could join the guild in my place. Dulec and Vidal, who had joined the army as healers, would be back soon and they would need a way to feed their families.
To the old men on the guild, it was obvious that the men needed the guild’s help more than I did.
After all, everyone knew that a young woman like me would marry soon, and then why would I need to work as a healer? My husband would take care of me, of course.
I thought of Master Fera’s words from our last meeting. I’d begged, then, pleading my case with all the passion I could muster. He’d listened with the air of a man indulging a child who didn’t understand how the world worked.
“Seranni,” he’d said, leaning forward with a sigh, his hands clasped together in mock earnestness. “The guild is no place for a young woman. A healer’s work requires strength, resilience—”
I’d wanted to shout at him that I had both. That the hands that bound wounds and brewed remedies were no weaker than any man’s. But his face had been closed off, his words final.
Still, I’d convinced him to meet with me once more. Today was my last chance.
I pulled out a bottle of pain reliever pills from my cache. I wouldn’t be able to get through the meeting with the guild master without it. My sleep deprivation, coupled with the fear and frustration these same old thoughts always brought me, had caused my head to start to pound.
With a sigh, I called upon my magic and imbued the pain remedy with my power, making it more potent.
I swallowed the pill with the last of my tea and stood, brushing off my skirts. The morning bells rang in the distance, which meant that it would be time for my meeting with the guild master soon. I would need to hurry if I didn’t want to be late.
Master Fera was a stickler for rules. I’d seen him deny an applicant because the man had gotten the schoolmaster to fill out his form for him instead of filling it out himself. The man had begged and pleaded, but the guild master had been firm that the man would have to wait until six months later, when the guild would be accepting applications again.
I shivered. I had to make sure I was well prepared.
With a quick swipe over my mouth to catch any stray crumbs, I patted my hair into place. It was prone to standing on end, especially in the winters when it became dry. It wouldn’t do to look harried today. I had to be presentable.
And then, it was time to leave.
Shutting the door behind me, I walked through the snowy, slushy streets to the guild house. Taking a deep breath, I pushed open the doors and walked inside.
The interior of the guildhouse was warm, the air thick with the scent of parchment and wood polish. I could hear the low murmur of voices as I approached the main hall, my boots squeaking faintly against the polished floorboards.
Master Fera was already seated at the head of the long table, his expression unreadable as he sorted through a stack of papers. Around him sat the other guild members, each of them older, their faces marked by age and the arrogance of experience, making small talk and shuffling paper around as they waited to start their business.
Fighting my nerves, I walked to the front of the room. I paused, my heart pounding as I smoothed my skirts and straightened my shawl.
Master Fera looked up as I walked up to him, narrowing his eyes at me. Taking a quick breath, I fixed a demure smile on my face.
“Master Fera, thank you for agreeing to meet with me today.” He nodded, unimpressed, and I hurried to continue.
This conversation would determine my future, my dreams of joining the guild hanging delicately in the balance. I couldn’t fail. I wouldn’t .
“I have come to formally request entry into the Healer’s Guild,” I stated, my voice steady despite the pounding of my heart.
Master Fera’s eyebrows furrowed in surprise, his eyes flashing with annoyance as his paternalistic gaze scrutinized me. “Seranni, my dear girl,” he began, his tone condescending yet seemingly gentle, “we have already spoken about this.” He looked around at the other members of the guild. “While I commend your ambition, the Healer’s Guild has always been an institution for men. It is not a place for young women like yourself.”
“I have spent years studying—"
“You’ve spent years brewing teas and poultices,” he interrupted, his voice heavy with disdain. “You have no formal training, no apprenticeship under a recognized master. What makes you think you belong here?”
I squared my shoulders, refusing to be deterred. “Master Fera, I possess the skills and knowledge necessary to be a valuable member of the guild. I am more than capable of contributing to our community’s well-being.”
The Guildmaster let out a patronizing chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief, even as the other men murmured among themselves, clearly disapproving.
“And what training do you have?” Master Fera asked, shaking his head. “What school did you go to? Who did you train under?”
I flushed. I was self-taught, knowing which herbs to use and which poultice to apply was a matter of intuition for me. But I couldn’t tell the guild that. I couldn’t tell them I healed through magic .
“I just know ,” I muttered, knowing it sounded weak. “But I’ve always had good results, you can ask anyone in Vilusia—”
“We’ve heard the stories,” another guild member interjected, his tone as dismissive as Master Fera’s. “A clever girl with a knack for herbs. But this is a guild, not a kitchen.”
The words stung, but I refused to flinch.
“I am asking for the chance to prove myself,” I said, my voice rising despite my effort to keep it even. “Let me take the tests. Let me show you what I can do.”
“My dear Seranni, do you not understand? You’re still young, only twenty—”
“I’m twenty-two,” I muttered, and Master Fera’s eyebrows went up, but he didn’t pause.
“—so, maybe you don’t understand yet: A woman’s place is not in a guild, but in her home, tending to her family. There is no need for you to pursue such endeavors when you could be focusing on finding a suitable match and starting a family of your own.”
I felt a surge of indignation rising within me, but I kept my composure, determined to make him see reason. “With all due respect, Master Fera, my aspirations extend beyond mere domestic duties. I wish to use my skills to help those in need, to make a meaningful contribution to our society.”
And make money , I thought, but I made sure not to show it in my expression. Better that the guild think I’m just an idealistic young woman.
Master Fera’s expression hardened, his avuncular facade slipping to reveal a stubborn resolve. “Seranni, I understand your desire to prove yourself, but the fact remains that by joining the guild, you would be taking a position away from a deserving young man. It is simply not done.”
“But why should my gender dictate my worth or opportunities?”" I challenged; knowing that my voice was tinged with frustration, but unable to control my emotions. “Surely, the guild should value talent and dedication above all else. Above gender .”
Master Fera sighed heavily, his gaze softening slightly. “Seranni, you are a bright and capable young woman, but you must understand that traditions exist for a reason. The Healer’s Guild has functioned in a certain way for centuries, and to change that now would be to disrupt the natural order of things.”
He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. “What would you have us do when the men return from war? When trained healers need their positions restored? Should we turn them away to make room for you ?”
His words hit me like a blow, but I clenched my fists, refusing to let him see my hurt. “I’m not asking for special treatment. I’m asking for the same chance you would give any man.”
The room was silent for a long moment, the weight of my words hanging in the air. Master Fera’s gaze bore into me, and I met it head-on, even as my heart thundered in my chest.
Finally, he sighed, shaking his head. “You’re persistent, I’ll give you that. But the answer remains the same. The guild is no place for a woman.”
I felt a surge of disappointment wash over me, realizing that my plea was falling on deaf ears. Despite my best efforts, I could not sway Master Fera’s deeply ingrained beliefs.
“Thank you for considering my request, Master Fera,” I said, my voice tinged with resignation. I couldn’t resist one last barb, though. “I understand your decision, though I may not agree with it.”
The Guildmaster nodded solemnly. “I wish you all the best in your future endeavors, Seranni.” He turned away, already dismissing me from his notice as he engaged his colleagues in conversation, as if I was unworthy of his attention.
Burning with frustration, I turned to leave, the weight of Master Fera’s words settling like a stone in the pit of my stomach.
Well, now I had to leave Vilusia.
The walk back to my home was a blur, the cold air biting at my cheeks as I fought back tears of frustration.
The streets of Vilusia seemed smaller today, the houses less inviting. The weight of the guild’s rejection pressed heavily against my chest, suffocating the hope I’d carried with me that morning.
By the time I reached my door, my hands were trembling—not from the cold, but from the helpless rage that threatened to consume me. I pushed it down, locking it away as I stepped inside.
This wasn’t over. Not yet.
I couldn’t let it be.
I couldn’t fail.
For Father.
For me.
“Seranni!”
I turned to see who had hailed me, and felt my lips curve up into a smile. Voren, the mayor’s son, fell into step with me as I waked back to my house.
“So, how did it go?”
I shook my head, and he tutted.
“That bad, huh?” He sucked his teeth and blew a quick breath. “You know, my offer is still open.”
I laughed at that, despite my bad mood. Voren had convinced himself he was in love with me, despite me trying my best to let him down gently.
“Voren,” I said softly, “you know I cannot accept.” I turned my face away from his immediate frown, trying not to wince. “We are friends, nothing more.”
“I know you’re not being courted by anyone else—”
“Voren—”
“Why can’t you just give me a chance, Seranni, I would be so good to you—”
Luckily, I was saved from this uncomfortable conversation with Voren by a loud cry.
“Mistress Vasalt!” I turned to see young Riana Narr come running up to me. “It’s my mother, miss, the baby’s coming!” She bit her trembling lip. “Please, come with me—fast!”
I picked up my skirts and ran to the Narrs’ house, trailing Riana. Annoyingly, Voren followed me.
At the threshold, I turned to Voren. “Please, don’t follow me inside. We can talk later, but right now, I must help Mother Narr.”
I didn’t stay to see if Voren nodded, I turned to Riana and followed her inside her house. She ran for the bedroom off the side of the hall, where her mother lay in bed. Mother Narr was holding her daughter-in-law’s hand and whispering encouragement to her as she labored. Her son was away, travelling to another town with the others from his merchant guild, so it was only the three Narr women who greeted me.
“Elina,” I said, looking at the woman who lay with her feet bent and sweat streaming down her face, even in the winter chill. “How are you doing?”
Elina looked up at me, wincing. Older than me by five years, Elina had always been kind to me. It worried me to see her red-faced and panting with pain.
“It hurts, Sera,” she said, moaning with pain.
I winced. When I made to take my friend’s other hand, Mother Narr intercepted me.
“The babe is taking longer than usual,” she said in a low voice so that her daughter-in-law would not hear. “Is there anything you can do?” She looked at me with hopeful eyes, and I squeezed her hand.
“I will try my best.”
The next few minutes were a blur. I sent Riana to my house for pain reliever, and for cotton root bark, which would help with inducing labor. After two long and painful hours, the babe was finally born.
But it did not cry. Wheezing for breath, the babe slowly stopped moving. He remained still, even as I tried to blow into his mouth. Luckily, Elina had fainted away from the exertion, and Riana had cried herself to sleep, cuddled up next to her mother.
“Is he alright?”
Mother Narr’s face was stricken, and her eyes filled with fear as if her heart knew the truth. Her grandson was fading.
“Give me a moment,” I snapped, turning away from her. “I must check.”
Shielding the sight of the babe with my body, I hunched over him. Mother Narr hovered over Elina and Riana, darting anxious looks at me.
“Come on, little one,” I breathed, infusing my breath with my magic. My hands glowed, but the dark blue of my bodice hid the faint light, and I continued to draw from my magic, healing whatever ailed the babe. I had no idea how my magic knew what to do, how it healed, but I prayed that it would be enough.
A moment later the babe coughed, and I quickly turned him over, inserting my finger in his mouth and pulling out the black gunk I found in there. When I flipped him upright again, he let out a weak cry, opening and closing his mouth in an angry frown.
I whirled around to look at Mother Narr, tears pricking my eyes. “Your grandson,” I said, handing her the boy. She quickly wrapped him in a swaddling cloth, only pressing my hand tightly for a moment in gratitude.
I blinked the tears of relief away, and my exhaustion hit me all at once. My stomach growled, but all I could think of at the moment was my bed. Already sleep deprived from my visit to the tower last night, this morning’s excitement had me dead on my feet.
“Young master Elkev! I know you’re out there!”
I jumped. My eyes, which had been ready to close on their own, shot open. Voren ducked in through the open window, looking sheepish.
“Yes, Mother Narr?”
“Be so kind as to escort Mistress Vasalt to her home,” Mother Narr said.
“No, there’s no need—” I broke off as a huge yawn assailed me.
“She needs rest after all this excitement,” Mother Narr clucked her tongue. “Make sure she gets home, and let her rest . Don’t keep her standing on the door step while you hang about talking to the poor thing.”
Voren flushed. The mayor’s son had never been spoken to that way, but Mother Narr didn’t seem bothered by his visible anger.
“I’ll send Riana over in the evening with your supper, Seranni,” Mother Narr said, and I nodded in gratitude. That was one offer I wasn’t too proud to accept. I hated cooking. Anything that helped me get out of making meals was a welcome relief.
With a few final instructions to keep the babe clean and dry, I left the Narrs’ house. Things had worked out for the best, despite how dire the situation had gotten. I was proud of myself. None of the male healers on the guild would have known what to do.
As men, they thought that the birthing of children was ‘women’s business’, and not something that required a healer. “A woman’s body knows what to do,” was their refrain. They didn’t even think to offer a laboring woman pain relief, saying that the natural way was the best!
Animals.
As we plodded along, Voren broke the silence. “You did great back there, Seranni.”
I smiled tiredly. “Thank you, Voren.”
“I never realized how…unusual your methods were, though.”
I held my breath. Surely Voren didn’t mean—he hadn’t seen anything, he was outside the house, he couldn’t have seen my magic—
I looked up at him and saw him looking back at me, smug and sure of himself. Dammit, he knew .
What would he do with the knowledge?
Luckily, we were at my house before I had to find out.
“Thank you for escorting me home,” I said quickly, stepping through my threshold. “I really need to rest now.”
Voren nodded, still looking like the cat that had caught the canary. Or a man with a secret.
Closing the door on his grinning face, I moved to the bedroom in a daze. Voren knew. Or at least he suspected.
I had to find a way to keep him quiet.
Worse, I suspected I knew what the price of his silence would be.
Sighing, I toed off my boots, and changed out of my clothes that had been splashed in birthing fluids and blood. Finally, the siren call of my bed proved too strong to resist, and I fell into a restless slumber.