Emily tries to take a deep breath, but it stays just out of reach.

  She just killed someone.

  She can feel her chest heave and heave, but still, nothing is there.

  She just aimed her hand at someone and ended their life.

  She takes a deep breath and cocks her head to the side. Admittedly, she didn’t actually end his life. That honour rests solely on her ostrich’s… Shoulders? Back? Neck? Whatever it could be.

  Finally, she catches that breath and heaves a relieved sigh, her mind clearing for just a moment. That’s right. She didn’t actually snuff out a life with a wave of her hand. She can’t just… Move some energy around inside of her, and erase a person from this world forever. She doesn’t have it in her. Her magic is still there just to protect her and hers; it’s bubbly and wonderful, playful and energetic. She didn’t do it. She didn’t. She can’t.

  She just…

  Chopped off his arm, with the contemptuous ease of swatting a fly.

  The bile starts frothing up to the surface once again, forcing its acidic bite up her throat and sitting behind her teeth. She shuts her mouth against its onslaught and holds a hand to back it up, trying to keep the meager amount of food left in her stomach down; but losing the fight swiftly.

  She throws up once again onto the floor, the sting of the acid flowing up her throat and past her mouth, leaving her teeth feeling fuzzy and leaving her tear-soaked eyes more swollen and wet than before. She feels the chunks of breakfast slide up from her stomach and eject on the floor; while all the while, Blue devours a man just a few feet ahead of her.

  As Emily tries again to take another heaving breath, she just barely picks up the sounds of meat being torn out of Sir Barrion’s body - followed by Blue swallowing it whole and letting out a pleased coo.

  That coo snaps Emily out of it, like a bucket of water was splashed over her face. She slows her breathing down again and takes a hold of her panic.

  She might not have taken the final blow.

  But she ordered the attack.

  She assisted in the deed.

  Blue can’t possibly be expected to be held accountable for what just happened. That’s ridiculous. He’s nothing more than a… A wild animal, barely trained and badly contained. He did exactly what she taught him to do: Hunt. And he did a stupendous job of it. All Emily had to do was point, say a word, and he was let loose like an arrow in flight, honing in on his target with the thrill of a predator doing what it was born to do. And he got away without a scratch, all thanks to Emily. The moment she saw that sword rise up, she just… Acted.

  Emily stares at her traitorous hand for a moment. It’s dull, mundane, and exactly as it always has been. Her fingernails cut short but not too short; calloused from many hours toiling away at the farm, and lightly scarred here and there from multiple accidents in the kitchen and in the field. It seems so familiar to her, and yet so alien. Like walking into a room that you’ve been in a thousand times, and finding that all of the furniture has been shifted slightly to the right in your absence.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  She feels an overwhelming feeling of panic and disgust rise up from within her chest. It’s just as her uncle taught her: magic is a dangerous element, and it excels in causing harm. She thought she could avoid it if she just… Stopped using it, besides the most convenient ones. But the moment she took up the mantle and cast her first spell, she set herself down the path of inevitability.

  She clenches her fist hard enough for it to shake. She can’t take back what she did. But she can make sure it never happens again. She could swear off magic once again. She could never touch that bubbly, friendly energy for as long as she lives.

  But that’s not possible.

  Emily lets out a sigh and lowers her fist again. She can’t swear off of it. Magic is a part of her. It is her, in a way. To deny herself its allure would be like trying to deny her eyes. Or her nose. It’d be taking something fundamental away from herself, and she just… Can’t.

  She looks around at the forest, and admits that it also would be extremely impractical to do, given her current situation.

  As she looks around, she spots Blue mid-tearing and realizes with a start that he’s still eating.

  With a terrified scream, Emily points her hand towards Blue and unleashes a mighty pillar of wind with far more force than is strictly necessary. It crosses the distance between her and Blue in the blink of an eye, smacking hard against the baby; causing it to cry out in pain and surprise before he gets blasted off of Sir Barrington and into the distance.

  Emily feels a pang of guilt as she hears him smash into some foliage painfully, snapping twigs and breaking off branches as he goes.

  “S-sorry, boy… Just… Please, stop.”

  Emily feels tears well up in her eyes, as she hears the quick scurrying of Blue getting up in the distance. He lets out a contemptuous screech in her direction, before she hears the swift put-put-put of his footsteps running off into the distance.

  Emily’s heart seizes, as she hears him running further and further away from her. Visions of him hunting other humans, pouncing on them and bringing his wickedly sharp beak down on their skulls flashing through her mind until she can barely breathe once again. What’s going to happen if he finds another human in the wild? What’ll happen if he decides he’s hungry, when he finds them?

  What’s going to happen when they finally get back to civilization?

  With a gulp, Emily realizes just what she needs to do. She can’t let him go rogue whenever he wants. She might have already ruined any chance of socializing and training Blue properly, like she did with all of her dogs… But there’s still enough time to teach him one final, important thing, before it’s really too late.

  With reluctance, she reaches behind herself and takes off her pack, opening it up and rummaging inside. Right near the bottom, disregarded as “Useful but not really”, is a long length of rope.

  One hopefully long and strong enough to stay around an ostrich’s neck.

  Taking a deep breath and really not looking forward to what’s coming next, Emily starts whistling, trying to get Blue back to her once again.

  “Come on, boy! I’ve got a nice, shiny new leash for you!”

  She whistles sharply again, and finally hears the put-put-put of his footsteps returning to her once again; her earlier outburst already forgiven and forgotten.

  “That’s right, come ‘ere boy… I just really hope this works.”