The Tournament: Flight of the Wild Mage

4. Help them out in whatever way you can.

Corraine tended to avoid the main roads. She feared the press of the crowds on all sides, the busyness of many individuals moving in different direction, and the deep awareness that everyone was both aware of and judging her presence based on the stench of her magic. So, the blue-coated doe tended to travel through back alleys or unused paths, where she could avoid the eye contact of curious strangers. At an event as crowded as the Grand Tourney, the narrow side streets were her refuge. The city of Mead was absolutely full to bursting with visitors, and every main road was clogged with merchants and their carts, chatty tourists, and self-important Order mages watching over the event. The tangle of dark alleys was a much more hospitable place for an anxious hind with personal space issues.

Plodding slowly through a shaded passage between taverns and shops, Corraine lowered her head slightly in a slight stretch and self-assuring shake of her blight-covered antlers. She knew she had as much right to attend the event as any of the other Mead visitors to the Tourney, but she still could not seem to let go of her nerves. She hated big events like this one; the feeling of being an outsider when all the others seemed to fit in. She paused, planning to catch her breath and acclimate to the quiet alley, using this moment as a chance to calm down and regain her composure. Here, where no one was looking at her, she could simply be.

That was, until a form rushed by her; just barely managing not to graze her pelt as the individual sprinted past, leaving Corraine blinking back shock. Someone was running through the side street and, based on the way she heard hooves scramble for purchase as they turned a left corner, they were in a panicked rush, as though running from someone. Impulsively, Corraine took a few trotting steps after them, trying to determine what was happening, when a familiar scent hit her nose: mint. The distinct scent, alongside the blur of a greenish pelt, told Corra who had passed her by; a well-known Wild Mage herbalist. Someone who should not have been at the event. Normally, these side streets were hers; she rarely saw another soul pass through, much less a well-known enemy of The Order. Why come to town in the first place, much less sprint through a dark alley in such a hurry?

It only took a few moments for the reason to make itself clear, when two more figures entered Corra's once-peaceful back alley. Order Mages, guards watching over the event, based on the insignia across their distinctive armor. They're after her, Corra realized with a start, noting the breathlessness of the two mages, the determined looks on their faces. They were chasing down the Wild Mage. It seemed as though neither was going to pay any attention to her, as they both squeezed passed her through the narrow street without a glance in her direction—though Corra winced at the red powder that stained their fur where they brushed by her, an unfortunate side event of her magic. However, both guards realized their predicament only a few yards past her. They were at a fork in the road, and the Wild Mage was long gone.

The first Order Mage, an equine who towered over Corraine, wheeled around to her rot-wrapped doe, nostrils flared in anger as hooves clacked against the cobblestones. "Which way did she go?" The intonation was that of an order, not a question. Closer to a threat than an inquiry. A demand for answers from the only possible witness, as the equine aggressively asserted his larger form over her own. The other mage was on his heels, looking similarly enraged.

Despite her instincts to turn and run, Corra only took one step back before she stopped herself and stood her ground, unwilling to give in to the posturing of a few cocky mages who couldn't even track a tourist in their own town. She snorted slightly in response, but kept her composure, tossing her antlers slightly in a subtle back off signal. "She went right," Corraine responded with a flick of her short tail. It was a lie, of course, a bluff—she wasn't going to give away the Wild Mage's path to these two jerks, not when Corra was all too familiar with the consequences for the Wild Mage if she were caught. She would not be complicit in their violence. "You'd better hurry. Whoever it was, they were in quite a rush." She stared down the guard, silently praying that he wouldn't call her bluff. That this wasn't some absurd test of her loyalty. Despite her measured expression, her heart raced.

Apparently, they believed her. Without another word, they turned and resumed their chase through the narrow streets, taking off –thankfully—in the absolute wrong directions. Corraine froze where she was, and waited until their racing hoofbeats joined the distant cacophony of the Mead crowds before she dared to move. Had she really done that; had she betrayed the Order? Had she stood up to them, even in just some small way? Quietly, she moved to look down the left path, the one she had seen the Wild Mage escape down. It was thankfully empty. Hopefully, the Wild Mage had escaped, and Corra could breath a sigh of relief. Maybe it wasn't much in the grand scheme of things, and perhaps the forbidden mage would simply be caught later, but, for now, she was safe. It wasn't Corra's first time standing up to The Order that had once trained her, but each small step was a victory for the anxious doe, and a victory for the Order's other victims.

The crimson-wrapped doe waited in that alley for a while longer, until enough spores had fallen from her antlers to prevent even the strongest mages from tracking where the Wild Mage had fled. Corra could only silently hope that the Wild Mage was safe as she rejoined the bustling Mead crowds.