... ^^ Zara's Cane ^^

— Yafet —

I blinked slowly, staring at the nonchalant expression of the infuriatingly beautiful woman in front of me.

Her black hair, tied back into a short braid, swayed a bit, as she moved to stand. I spotted metal glinting inside it, and hummed softly.

She grinned. "Enjoy your look?" She asked in that tone I knew would bring most men to their knees, begging for her attention.

It didn't work on me, beyond making me blush a little. Instead, it annoyed me that she thought I was so easily manipulated, and I snapped back a retort I knew I'd come to regret, from the look that settled over her face afterwards.

"Not in the slightest. I find your dark hair interesting, but your face is much too plain to attract me." I snapped.

She raised a single eyebrow slowly, as if she was very carefully restraining herself, and then hummed. "And holding your tongue. Another thing you will learn from me, along with how to speak to a woman, and one older than you." She said simply.

I frowned, but held my tongue, despite my anger. Her eyes glinted with an open challenge, and her hand rested casually on a small cylinder on her belt.

After a few moments, she nodded. "Good. You can exercise restraint, but it's difficult. That isn't terrible. Now let's go meet your brothers." She gestured to the door.

I blinked. "What about them?"

"They're coming with you. Four dead mages, four Mage Apprentices. That was the deal I made with your grandfather. You will be my personal responsibility. So don't screw up, because my image is on the line." She shrugged and opened the door.

I decided to ask my grandfather directly, and so I led her down to the cabin under mine, where he and my elder brothers sat, meditating.

I joined them silently, and she looked between us, analyzing our postures. Each Mage sat differently during meditation, even though the basic position was always the same.

After a few minutes, she began tinkering absently with the cylinder on her belt, opening compartments and placing odd objects inside them, shifting them around.

She noticed my interest, and smiled, then laid out three items in front of me. One was shaped like a piece of scrap metal, in my eyes, but the thin lip seemed useful for reaching small places, perhaps.

The second was a piece of metal cord that stretched impossibly long in my hands. The moment I believed it wasn't going to stretch further, it halted, and solidified into what I could only identify as garrote wire.

Shivering slightly, I set it down, and picked up the third item as the rope shrank. The last item was more obvious, shaped like a dart, and next to it were a few small vials I supposed held poisons.

Grandfather opened his eyes as I handed them back to her, and gazed at me. "Yes, Yafet?" He asked in Arabic.

I frowned, speaking the same language. "The thief said that you promised her all four of us as servants when we captured the enemies."

He raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure that's not what she said. You will be Apprentices, and then when you have gained her approval, you will be Spiders, as she is. They would like more mages in their ranks. They even agreed to allow us to relocate our tower to a discreet location only the Spiders know about."

I frowned again. "And our opinions didn't matter?"

"No." He said simply. At my incredulous look, he chuckled wryly. "You need the discipline, and the training can only benefit you. You will be able to help the people sheltering our clan."

"And hopefully the elder brothers will find wives." I said dryly.

He grinned again, this time in half hope and half guilt. "Yes. I don't need to hide it. I want my clan to rebuild, once this tragedy is concluded. I see no reason why these people cannot help."

I leaned back, and thought of what I'd seen of these 'Spiders'.

There was the little one that reeked of suppressed fear and pain, the one we'd been told was called 'Jon'. He hadn't spoken a word, and when I thought of his companions, both of whom had had a body part removed, I suspected it had been cut out against his will. Still, he seemed kind, and had seemed eloquent enough in his letters.

The woman, Zara, was commanding and intolerably rude, brusque, and even outright cruel, when she seemed to believe the situation demanded it.

Her beauty and the grace by which she moved should have won her no end of suitors, yet she bore no rings or mairi, the stone that should have dangled from her ear, if she were married.

Her age, a mystery to me, would also give me clues. If she were still a young woman, I would understand, but she looked to be about ten years older than me, in her late twenties. I had known women who didn't marry until that age.

Or perhaps she was a Friendly, and not looking for marriage at all, which vastly complicated my confusion, because I knew in her home country, such things were looked down upon.

She glanced at me, and caught me staring at her, then flashed that smile, the one that said she could pass for a prostitute if she wished, and no one would question her.

She froze, then glared at me, and I tilted my head in confusion, until I remembered she was a Mage, even a weak one, and my thoughts were unshielded.

Her fist was the last thing I saw.

—

My eyes creaked open slowly, and I sat up, rubbing my jaw, which turned out to be a terrible idea.

My jaw was thoroughly broken, and held in place by an odd metallic brace on my skin.

I suppressed my groan of pain, and spotted Zara, sitting in front of me suddenly.

She gazed at me coldly. "I don't want to let my physician heal you, but I'll have to. I need you to be able to speak. But be careful. Speak of things you know nothing about again, and you won't wake up." Her tone didn't change, but the serious set of her jaw and eyebrows convinced me she was entirely serious.

I nodded slowly, as that was all I could do.

The door opened on cue, and an elderly Russian man wandered in, then without any sort of preamble, simply gripped my jaw, disregarding the pain he was causing me as magic started flowing through my jaw, creating splinters of bone to bridge the new gaps, and realigning the bones to their previous places. My teeth even seemed to re-root themselves, and I passed out as the pain overwhelmed me.

—

"Wake up." I was dropped, face first, onto the deck of the ship, and I groaned, rubbing my sore jaw.

"What exactly are you offended about?" I snapped, standing up carefully.

She raised an eyebrow. "Young man, if I have to tell you why I'd be offended you thought I looked like a prostitute, I really need to speak to your grandfather about your mental capacities." She replied dryly.

"Young man? I'm 18! You can't be more than ten years older than me!" I growled.

She blinked slowly, and then laughed loudly, clutching her stomach and the rail next to her for balance. "Yo-haha! You think I'm 30? Really?" She asked.

I frowned. "Well, somewhere between 25-30."

She laughed again, softer. "Wow. No, you're wrong, by a good bit... but I suppose that's a good thing!" She said heartily, and then pulled the cylinder off her belt. A movement of her thumb surprised me as the cylinder extended, then expanded, creating a sort of cane-staff, which reached a bit past her hip.

Both ends were capped with weights, it looked like, and the center appeared the only solid part, until more metal filled the gaps, and suddenly it was entirely solid.

"Relic Magic?" I asked.

She snorted. "No. Mechanics. Here." She tossed a similar cylinder to me. It was red in color, but longer, and it weighed about two pounds, from what I could feel.

I gently pressed the button on the side, and it turned into a full-length Bo-Staff, made of metal. I spun it carefully, and then reacted when a small black blur entered my eyesight.

The new staff didn't make a sound, when it collided with hers, which confused me, until I noticed the tiny fibers of Mithril that were laced into the weapon, the reason for its light weight, and the lack of sound cane from the magic it was steeped in, which seemed to have been commanded to absorb sound, and also make it harder to see the wielder.

I looked up reflexively when the black blur retreated, and then struck again.

My staff training with my mother kicked in, and I dodged, hooking the butt of the staff under the trailing edge of her cane, smacking her wrist harshly.

It should have made her drop her weapon. Instead, it just amused her, and she stepped into me, her cane against my throat, the end suddenly bladed.

I grinned slowly, and she looked down, then huffed in amusement. My staff was also against her heart, though I hadn't activated the blades.

As she stepped back, I pressed a button on the handle, and the blades shot out, adding a foot to the overall length.

She grinned and launched herself forward, returning to the sparring match.

—

"And what, exactly, did this have to do with sewing?" I asked sarcastically, wiping sweat from my brow, and rubbing my hands against my sweat-soaked tunic.

She shrugged. "It didn't. That was me blowing off steam. Come on."

She led me down into the cabins, and pointed into my room at my bathtub, which was followed with icy water. "Bathe, and meet me in your grandfather's rooms." She said simply, and disappeared.

And not, 'moved quickly into my blind spot', no, she disappeared, directly inside my line of sight, but I didn't feel any magic.

A soft, sweet chuckle sounded behind me, and then she was gone, leaving only a pinch on my backside to let me know she existed at all.

I bathed, gritting my teeth at the cold, but groaned in appreciation when my muscles began to relax and cool down.

After, I joined them in my grandfather's cabin.

Zara looked up, and nodded. "Good, you're here. Took you long enough. We're going to learn sewing, now. Sit." She clipped out sentences, and pointed at a coil of rope, apparently as my seat.

I smirked and enchanted the rope, twisting it into an actual chair, and sat down easily.

She snorted. "And that was useful... how? You're still sitting on a pile of rope. Stop wasting your magic, boy."

Grandfather nodded. "I also disapprove. That was an egregious misuse of your abilities." He gazed at me with a look I couldn't decipher, then turned to Zara. "Now I was informed you would be teaching them... sewing? May I ask why? And perhaps you can tell me a bit about yourself?"

She hummed, and nodded. "I think I'll answer with a little... anecdote. About when and how I discovered my abilities."

She picked up a small swatch of cloth, which I recognized as a ripped sail, and began carefully threading a needle.