Fiction Fridays - Untitled Magic Story Part 3

Here's my first attempt at some fiction writing now that I'm back to blogging again. It's set in the same story as my previous two Fiction Friday entries (which can be found here and here) but is a bit further ahead in the story, mostly because this scenario popped into my head during my fruitless attempts to sleep last night and I couldn't wait to get into it. So, enjoy. It's a very rough draft, I can already think of changes and additions that I need to make, but I'm pressed for time and wanted to get this up today. Read it; feedback is always appreciated, and occasionally even listened to!

I had a hunch I was in trouble when I woke up and had no idea where I was or how I got there. The fact that it was darker than Mordred’s heart didn’t help. I’ve met Mordred, by the way; he’s every bit the bastard you’d expect the man who ruined Camelot to be. And I don’t buy it when he blames it on the fact that he had an uncle-father and an aunt-mother, there was plenty of incest back in those days and nobody else turned out like him. But I digress.

As I pulled myself to my feet, leaning against the wall I felt behind me to give me some sense of where the hell I was, I searched my mind for any ideas on how I got here, wherever here was, but I was drawing a blank. I reached my left hand out and felt a wall. Same thing when I reached my right hand out. I must have been at the end of a hallway. “Only one way to go,” I muttered as I started walking forward. I kept one hand in front of me at all times to keep myself from bumping into something, alternating hands every few seconds to keep track of the walls on my sides. Honestly, I could have used a minor spell to conjure up some light, but without knowing where I was or what fail-safes might have been around me, that was risky. Better to hold off on that until I had no choice.

And, as my mind started working again, I had to admit I didn’t have a lot of strength left, so it was best to conserve energy. I had used a metric shit-ton of magic on the last job the Covenant had given me, and I was just about spent. I could remember going home after it was done, collapsing on my bed, passing out, and then… nothing, till I woke up here, wherever the hell here was.

After a few minutes of walking, I felt a wall in front of me. I reached my arms out to both sides, even going so far as to lean back and forth in each direction; the walls to the sides of me had stopped. With no idea where I was or where to turn now, I had no choice but to cast a light spell. Fully aware of just how close to empty my tank was, I kept it as simple as possible, whispering a quick “Lumini” enchantment and snapping my fingers. A small light flickered to life where my fingers connected, giving me a brief glance of where I was before it went out again. And that glance was more than enough.

I was in the Corridors.

The Corridors, where any poor bastard caught violating the Covenant’s laws were kept until they were ready to be sentenced. But I hadn’t broken any laws; in fact, as a Jack, I worked for the Covenant! And why were the lights out? Whenever anyone was kept in the Corridors, the lights were blazing and there were Magistrates watching their every move. Magistrates… thinking of them brought another little factoid bubbling up to the surface of my rapidly less and less addled brain: only Magistrates or members of the Covenant could place someone into the Corridors, or take someone out. Which meant…

“Crowley’s charred crimson cock,” I swore vehemently.

“Ah, finally realization dawns,” a voice called to me from the darkness. I could tell it was being magically altered to distort both the sound of the voice and its distance from me. “Good. This will be so much more entertaining for me now that you understand exactly what is going on.”

Joke's on him, whoever he is, I thought darkly. I might have known that I was royally fucked, but understanding exactly what was going on? I didn’t have the first damn clue.