Page 2 of The Lies of Lena (The Otacian Chronicles #1)

Chapter One

“ C hamomile, milk thistle, sage, and a little bit of Epsom salt,” Mother said as she sprinkled the salt into the pot of water. “Lastly, some honey. It helps with the flavor and is known to help heal wounds.”

She slowly stirred the mixture in a small steel pot being heated on our wood-burning stove.

“So, this really helps heal people?“ I asked skeptically.

She smiled, swirling her hand as she enchanted her creation. “Well, with a little magic, it does.” The golden mist that sparkled and extended from her fingertips had me letting out a small gasp. Before I knew it, the mist faded. I looked away.

Of course, she enchants her elixirs.

I assumed as much, but Mother knew how badly the use of magic affected me. She never used it in front of me anymore .

“Lena,” she started. “I know you haven’t used magic in a very long time, but—”

“I know, Mother. But as I’ve told you countless times, I have no interest in learning,” I said with crossed arms. Since moving here, this was the first time I allowed her to show me how she makes anything besides bread or scones. She knew I didn’t wish to learn anything regarding magic, even something this small. In recent weeks, she has been not so subtly trying to get me to learn something, anything. I always declined until today.

“Lena, you are sixteen years old. You are more than capable of learning basic magic.”

I felt my hands trembling.

Mages are hated, Lena.

Those words would forever haunt me. I turned back to her, her coffee-brown eyes sparkling with hope. “I know you want this for me,” I said softly. “I just…I can’t. It isn’t necessary. We’d only be asking for trouble.”

“Isn’t necessary?” She frowned. “Yes, you were small, Lena, when your powers surfaced. It wasn’t necessary back then. Frankly, teaching you anything other than self-restraint wasn’t safe. I haven’t even heard of a four-year-old discovering their powers…” She shook her head and looked at me with determination. “…but that is only proof of how special you are. How strong you could be. Yes, here in Otacia, you may never need to know how to defend yourself. But if for some reason we had to leave—”

“Why would we have to leave?” I challenged. “The only thing putting us at risk is you enchanting your items! Don’t you think one of these days word will get to the castle about your miracle elixirs—how somehow some herbs, salt, and fucking honey can cure disease?!”

“Watch your tongue!” she snapped. I knew I crossed a line. “Innocent people are dying here! I don’t care that they’re just humans. I have the ability to help.” Her fists were clenched at her sides. “I don’t do the full potency of my power. Just enough to slowly heal over time.”

“And what if someone discovers what makes that happen? What if someone bursts in while you’re enchanting and discovers who we are?”

“It’s been four years—”

“Yes! Four years!” I cried as I threw my arms up. “We have managed to stay somewhere for a whole whopping four years. Four years of having a home . And I am terrified of having to leave it.”

Sadness swept over Mother’s face, and my throat burned as I held back tears. I shook my head and slumped into the kitchen chair, propping up my elbows and burying my face in my hands.

Mother set down her wooden spoon on our dining table and placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. One tear escaped, and it took all my willpower to keep the rest at bay. “I never want to be on the run again. I want to have a life. I want to have friends. I want to be close to people. Not live with this constant debilitating fear.” I shook my head again. “I just…I just want to be normal.”

Mother crouched beside me, pulling my hands away from my face and into hers. I hesitated but met her stare.

“How awfully boring that would be,” she said with a soft smile. I couldn’t help but return it. “You can have friends, Lena. Be close to people. ”

“But I always have to hide who I really am…” I sighed. “So, I can build relationships, wearing a mask.”

“As much as being a Mage is part of who we are, it doesn’t define us. Even if I couldn’t use my magic, I would still be myself.” She tucked a copper coil hanging in front of my face behind my ear. “I know you are scared. But you deserve to live, Lena. I won’t push you anymore. But know that I am always here to teach you when you are ready,” she said with another gentle smile that sent more tears rolling down my face. I wiped them away.

“I’m sorry…for the foul language,” I said abashedly, looking down at our worn wooden floors.

Mother let out a chuckle. “You get that from your father.”

That made me smile. I had never met him. Mother always spoke fondly of the brown-haired, green-eyed man she fell in love with over seventeen years ago. He was a flirty, foul-mouthed fisherman, quite opposite to my soft-spoken mother. She always said that he enthralled everyone who met him, and all would say he was far too handsome to be a fisherman.

After almost a year of their romance, Mother fell pregnant with me. Even though there was a fifty percent chance I would be a regular human, there was also a fifty percent chance I would be a Mage.

The small village of Renrell hated Mages almost as much as King Ulric. Mother didn’t believe my father would shun her. But she couldn’t be sure. At best, he would be forced to leave the village he loved, that his family had lived in for generations. To live a life secluded until it was known whether or not I was a Mage and if I had any abilities that needed honing. At worst, he would turn on her and let the most anti-Mage villagers have their way with her. While she didn’t believe he would do the latter, there was too much of a risk. So, she left one day in the middle of the night. Never to see him again.

“Oh—it’s almost 7:00!” Mother exclaimed. I stood from my chair as she rushed over the leather crossbody filled with the items I was to deliver to the Inner Ring. Mother and I traded off duties. Sometimes, I handled deliveries while she operated our stand at the weekly market. Venturing up to the Inner Ring was intimidating, but I kept to myself and only had to socialize with the people whose orders I was fulfilling. Overseeing the stand was a much more challenging task, and honestly, Mother knew more about her items than I did, given my lack of interest.

I slung the bag over my body and let out a huff. “Wow, there’s a decent amount in here.” I could already feel the weight pulling at my shoulder.This would undoubtedly be uncomfortable. I let out a breathy laugh.

I’m so proud of her.

Word of how excellent the goods at Waylon’s Bakery & Apothecary were had reached the Inner Ring. The middle class wouldn’t set foot in the Outer Ring, but some were okay with items being delivered to them. Customers always asked my mother why it wasn’t named “Minerva’s Bakery & Apothecary”. She always smiled and said she named it after a good friend. She never mentioned it was my father’s name.

Mother slipped me the order list and the map I used nearly every week to decipher which homes each order was going to.

“Good luck at the market today,” I said, giving her a big hug.

“Today is going to be a good day, Lena.” She pulled away, beaming. “I can just feel it.”