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Splintered Factions 1

The Magical Coalition


Prologue 10

Chapter 1 Ruby — Gone 13

Chapter 2 Rane — The Politician’s Son 16

Chapter 3 Ireland — The Giant’s Causeway 18

Chapter 4 Maxim — The Hornet’s Nest 23

Chapter 5 Eleanor — Sanctuary 26

Chapter 6 Leopold — The Congress 35

Chapter 7 Ireland — [Redacted] 44

Chapter 8 Ashton — I am the Greatest 48

Chapter 9 Chenxue — When Your Crush Tries to Rob You 57

Chapter 10 Cyrus — Rats and Men 67

Chapter 11 Ashton — O� the Beaten Path 76

Chapter 12 Ireland — Preparations 83

Chapter 13 Maxim — The File Search 86

Chapter 14 Eleanor — Protector 88

Chapter 15 Rane — Wet Towel and Flower Boy 92

Chapter 16 Ruby — The Surprising Encounter 95

Chapter 17 Ireland — Touching Down in Moh 103

Chapter 18 Charlie — Decaying Roses & The Last Murderer 106

Chapter 19 Chenxue — Books about Potentially World-Ending Magical Artifacts are in the Back 111

Chapter 20 Leopold — Decisions, Decisions 118

Chapter 21 Ireland — Dangerous Pastimes 124

Chapter 22 Cyrus — The Soft Piano 126

Prologue 2 138

Chapter 23 Rane — The Journey to the Congress 148


Chapter 24 Charlie/Leo/Ashton — Interrogation 150

Chapter 25 Ireland — The Rotten Mentor 158

Chapter 26 Ashton — A Talk with the Prince 161

Chapter 27 Cyrus — Change of Plans 165

Chapter 28 Leopold — E�ective Immediately 175

Chapter 29 Maxim — The Phone Call 177

Chapter 30 Eleanor — Fateful Meetings 179

Chapter 31 Chenxue — Way too many people walk into a bar 182

Chapter 32 Ruby — The Craigslist 192

Chapter 33 Maxim — The Void 195

Chapter 34 Eleanor — Revelations 197

Chapter 35 Chenxue — We’ll Be Coming Round the Mountain When We Come 199

Chapter 36 Leopold — Mind Sweeper Ultimate A ttack 203

Chapter 37 Eleanor — Bloodshed 220

Chapter 38 Chenxue — Holy Shit, it’s a Goddamn Dragon 223

Prologue 3 233

Chapter 39 Cyrus — The Ranger and the Prince 246

Chapter 40 Eleanor — Rescuing Ruth 257

Chapter 41 Chenxue — Our Best Selves 261

Chapter 42 Ashton — The New Messenger 270

Chapter 43 Leopold — Return to Kingdom Miami 275

Chapter 44 Roger — Redirection 286

Chapter 45 Charlie — Persuasion of Death 288

Chapter 46 Cyrus — Sixteen 291

Chapter 47 Ashton — Fifteen 292

Chapter 48 Eleanor — Fourteen 294


Chapter 49 Leopold — Thirteen 296

Chapter 50 Cyrus — Twelve 298

Chapter 51 Ashton — Eleven 302

Chapter 52 Ireland — Ten 305

Chapter 53 Eleanor — Nine 306

Chapter 54 Ireland — Eight 308

Chapter 55 Xialing & Chenxue — Seven 309

Chapter 56 Ireland — Six 315

Chapter 57 Cyrus — Five 317

Chapter 58 Ruby — Four 326

Chapter 59 Ashton — Three 328

Chapter 60 Ruby — Two 330

Chapter 61 Roger — One 333

Chapter 62 Lorenzo — Zero 340

Epilogue: Ashton 345

Epilogue: Cyrus 347

Epilogue: Xialing 348

Epilogue: Ireland & Eleanor 349

Epilogue: Charlie 351

Epilogue: Leopold 352

Appendix 1: The Setting of Splintered Factions 356

Appendix 2: Important Events of Splintered Factions 358

Appendix 3: The Magic System of Splintered Factions 359

Appendix 4: The General Faction Culture of Splintered Factions 363

Appendix 5: The Government Systems of Splintered Factions 366

Glossary of Splintered Factions 370


The content and opinions of this publication reside solely with the authors and not the Pennsylvania State University or the University Park Allocation Committee

Funded by the Student Initiated Fee


PART 1

THE BEGINNING


Prologue It was uncanny, really, how it all looked. A more ignorant, less-traveled driver might take it to

be a gargantuan, dark storm cloud, but Larry had been to New Orleans, seen real storm clouds, the type that the Storm Faction summoned. Their clouds bulged and folded, like a churning sea in the sky, and cracked sometimes with bursts of lightning and thunder.

This here, though—this was much di�erent. There were no layers, no shapes. It was a glossy screen of black, like a shadow looming over the city. Well, it was a shadow looming over the city. At least that’s what the Custom and Control O�cers told Larry the �rst time he had driven this far north.

“What the fuck is that?” Brian asked beside him. Larry smirked. The hum of the truck helped calm his nerves, as the two drove down the vacant strip of highway. Brian was new to the job, and there was something admittedly endearing about his greenness. When the corporation had asked Larry to show the boy the ropes, Larry was skeptical, but it made sense why they would come to him. Larry was, by far, the most experienced trucker at the company. And, after twenty-�ve years trucking across the continent, Larry had seen it all—the Tree of Life, the Beacon, the Class One Academy, the rest of those gaudy structures Out-casts liked to brag about in foreign bars. Nothing impressed him anymore. Not even this.

“It’s the Shadow Cloud,” Larry told him. The cab of the truck was a bit crowded with Brian here. These roads up north were usually desolate; Larry could drive for hours without encountering another car. The Darkness Faction was all crammed into Saint Paul, and the rest of their land was all but empty. It was a lonely drive, but a calming one, and the company gave Larry a weird feeling.

“What’s a Shadow Cloud?” Brian shot back. Larry sighed. “You ever heard of the Darkness Faction?” Brian narrowed his eyes to give Larry a dirty look. “Yeah, ‘course I have. I ain’t a dumbass.” “Well, you mark down that you heard it here �rst—the Darkness Faction likes to stay in the

darkness .” Brian gave Larry another angry look. “And,” Larry continued, “to make sure that Saint Paul stays in the darkness, they use their magic-sorcery witchcraft to put a big shadow over the city. Blocks out the sun real good.”

Brian sat quietly for a few moments, his eyebrows furrowed in deep concentration, probably considering what Larry had just told him. Then, �nally, he said, “I don’t care much for them Nox folk. I was raised in Charlotte. With the Water people.”

Larry lit a cigarette. He knew Brian hated the smoke—it was a good way to get the kid to shut up. Brian, as expected, crumpled his nose and cranked down his window.

“Stu�’ll kill ya,” he mumbled crankily. “I hope so,” Larry threw back. In all honesty, Larry wasn’t overly fond of the Darkness Faction, either. Maybe they were just

an acquired taste, but if he hadn’t acquired that taste by now, then he �gured he never would. He made


the journey up here to Saint Paul once or twice a year. The city was far away from most of the major routes, so most truckers wouldn’t touch it. Didn’t matter much to Darkness, Larry �gured—they preferred to keep to themselves anyway. But every once in a while the government would need some imports from the other factions, and when they did, they paid damned well for it.

And, since it was considered a “long-haul” drive, the corporation would front the costs of overnighting in the city. He could even write o� drinks at the hotel bar to a travel expense account (after twenty years at the company, he knew the right words to put on his report). That was one thing the Darkness Faction did better than most—brew beer. Maybe that was some knowledge Larry could bestow upon this kid here.

“You looking to retire soon?” Brian asked. The question took Larry by surprise. He snubbed his cigarette on the dash and tossed it out the window before immediately lighting another.

“Hell no,” he said. “I’m �fty years old.” Brian shrugged. “That’s what I mean,” he said. “Not that you’re old or nuthin’, but when you got a �ve startin’

o� your age...” “Nah, I ain’t looking to retire anytime soon,” Larry snapped. He turned to face the boy. “Us

Greys on Earth don’t got any fancy pension plans or social security like you over in Loch. Council of Grey don’t seem to pay us half a —”

“Watch out!” Larry swung his head around just in time to see it. There, in the center of the highway, maybe

just ten yards up, was a girl standing like a deer in headlights. Larry yanked the wheel to the side, forcing the truck through the left lane and over the rumble strip. The tires screeched as they skidded across the asphalt, and the cabin buckled as it tore o� the road. As the cabin's left tires lifted from the ground, Larry felt momentarily weightless. The whole thing tilted to the side, out of control.

His vision went dark for a moment, and when it came back, it was blurry. Larry tried to blink the stars from his eyes. His seatbelt kept him fastened into his seat, but the cabin was on its side. In the seat below him, Brian lay with his eyes closed, covered in shattered glass from the windshield, a wide, bleeding gash across his cheek.

“Brian,” Larry croaked. He could taste blood in his mouth. “Can you hear me, Brian?” Brian groaned. That was good. It meant he was alive. “Listen to me, Brian,” Larry said. He tried the door handle. It was stuck. Instead, he cranked

down his window. Then, as an afterthought, he turned the key in the ignition and shut o� the engine. “Brian, I’m gonna need you to get up. You hurt bad?”

Brian blinked his eyes open groggily. “I’m alright, I think. You?” “Yeah, I’m good.” Larry steadied himself and unhooked his seatbelt. He lowered his hand to

Brian. “We gotta get out of this truck.” Larry pulled Brian up, then hoisted him out the window. The kid looked dazed but okay. Larry

climbed out after him.


The whole truck, including the trailer, lay in a crumpled mess o� the road. On the highway, the girl was gone.

“You see that?” Larry asked. He spit into the dirt to get some of the blood out of his mouth. A few paces away, Brian lowered himself to sit on the ground. “Fucking psychopath was standin’ right out there in the center of the road. You ever seen something like that, Brian?” Brian didn’t respond. “You hear me?” Larry spun around to face the boy. Brian wasn’t looking at him, but was looking up at the sky instead. Larry followed his eyes to a cloudy blue sky, nothing out of the ordinary. He narrowed his eyes.

“What you lookin’ at, Brian?” “That. Up there.” Larry gave it a second look. Still nothing. He hoped the boy hadn’t hit his head too bad in the

wreck. “What the hell you goin’ on about, then? I don’t see nothin’.” “That’s right. There ain’t nothin’.” The realization hit Larry �at in the face. He spun around for a third time, and now he saw

it—blue, sunny skies. The Shadow Cloud was gone.


Chapter 1 Ruby — Gone

Ruby Blakely was on her lunch break when she heard the news. She was dining at a pristine little cafe in the �nancial district of Lux Aeterna. It was always too

white, she thought. There didn’t appear to be a speck of dust in the entire restaurant, and the food was much too expensive. But she liked their co�ee, which she desperately needed to stay awake. After all these years, Ruby still had di�culty staying awake without ca�eine. The people of Lux Aeterna and Kingdom Miami in general seemed to be energized beyond normal humans. The residents of Kingdom Miami, she noted, sometimes seemed to be more than human. The light they radiated was more powerful than sunlight. Ruby often felt bleak in comparison.

She ordered a latte and sat at a window seat, looking out at the city in front of her. The light of the sky above was starkly contrasted by the Beacon’s skyward beam, a sharp line of white light visible even here in Lux Aeterna, two hundred miles from its source in Castle Miami. Framing that beam in the skyline were the skyscrapers and the heavenly glow of the people going about their days.

Ruby knew she was seen as di�erent by those around her, and even if she was looked down upon by the residents of Kingdom Miami, Ruby was generally happy to be a so-called Out-cast. Lux Aeterna was so much more lively than Saint Paul. It suited her better. She never wanted to leave.

Or so she thought, until the nightly news came on the television at the cafe, right after George Foreman’s cooking show. The anchor’s blonde hair glowed ever so slightly, just like everyone else in the Kingdom.

“Welcome to the LABC News at Midnight. My name is Lucy Luminescent. Sources across many factions tonight confirm the previously uncorroborated reports of a catastrophic attack against the Nox Republic capital of Saint Paul...”

The bustle around the cafe slowly died down as everyone turned their attention to the broadcast.

“Officials in Miami report that they have been unsuccessful in their attempts to contact the Faction. We are still waiting on an official statement from Castle Miami, but experts have predicted that the death toll may be well into the thousands. There is little information coming out of the city, and authorities have not yet confirmed whether this event was an accident...”

A quiet, questioning murmur �owed through the normally bustling, carefree restaurant. “Citizens of Kingdom Miami have been hereby ordered by King Dazzle to stay away from the

Nox Republic for their own safety until further information is gathered...” Ruby hesitated as the anchor cleared her throat and read aloud from the teleprompter. “ Reports are telling us that this is a city-wide event, centralized in Saint Paul and its suburbs,

where over 99% of the population in the Nox Republic resides. There has been no word yet of any survivors...”


Ruby looked around the cafe. All eyes were on her. Most of the regulars knew she was from the Nox Republic.

She quickly gathered her things and left the cafe. She walked down the street, pushing past those around her, never looking up. She didn’t need to look up to know that everyone was watching. The broadcast continued across every television in the city, and it seemed to Ruby that everyone in Lux Aeterna knew exactly where she was. She was the only Darkness Mage in the city, as far as she knew. They watched her reactions to her home faction’s apparent disappearance, waiting to see if she would scream or break down or cry. She just ran down the busy streets and up into her apartment complex.

Once inside her apartment, Ruby didn’t bother taking o� her shoes or turning on the lights. She turned on the television. There wasn’t much coverage of the Nox Republic incident on TV. LABC News had switched over to sports coverage. Lucy Luminescent kept smiling brightly, as if nothing were wrong in the world today, as if the previous news segment had just been another carjacking or storm warning. As if no one was a�ected at all. Still, a ticker tape along the bottom of the screen gave Ruby some brief glimpses into the situation:

Experts estimate death toll in the thousands in the Nox Republic disaster. Congress with delegates from each Faction to be held soon.

Ruby shut o� her television and stood up. She ran to the kitchen, then opened a drawer. There, she found a slip of paper she had long hidden away. The edges of the page were torn and the writing nearly faded out. But the numbers were clear:

Mom & Dad: (555) 473-2718

She hesitated a moment. Then, she slowly dialed the number and waited as it rang, her heartbeat echoing throughout her skull.

“You have reached the voicemail box of Michael and Carrie Blakely. Please leave a message and we will call you back when we get a chance!” Beep.

“Shit.” Ruby hung up the phone and dialed again. Waited and waited. Each ring took longer than the

last, it seemed. Time slowed down to a screeching halt as she got the same automated message again: “You have reached the voicemail box of—” “Fuck!” Ruby slammed her phone down onto the counter. Her parents always picked up the

phone. She went back to the television and turned it on again. The news was over. A game show was being shown. Ruby felt that game shows must be �lmed in a di�erent realm than her own. Nothing bad was ever acknowledged in them. The world could be coming to an end and Jeopardy! would still be playing at eight o’clock sharp, Monday through Saturday. Either that, or the episodes were just �lmed months in advance.

After what seemed like hours, Ruby �nally drifted o� to sleep.


As she awoke the next morning, she saw a noti�cation of a missed phone call. She listened to the message.

“Hi Ruby,” said a man’s voice over the fuzzy speaker. “I am sorry to hear about the tragedy in the Nox Republic, and I’m sure this is an extremely di�cult time for you. I know there’s not a lot of information out there right now, but I believe you may be among the last living citizens of your home faction, and I think that you may be able to help me gain some information as to the cause behind the mysterious deaths. Call me back when you get a chance.”

Ruby deleted the message. She called her parents again. “You have reached the voice—”


Chapter 2 Rane — The Politician’s Son

"It's not up to you! You'll do as I say while you live under my roof!... Get a job and then you can make your own rules."

Rane despised the sound of his father’s voice. The two had never really gotten along—the combination of old and new testosterone meant they were always butting heads with one another. Lothan Manolis, a faction senator from Charlotte, the Water Faction’s second-largest city, was beloved by the majority. Charlotte had the largest population of Greys, an old slur that Roger Badger and the other non-mages had been attempting to reclaim with little success, on the continent and during his campaign, Manolis had spoken directly to the city’s traditionally-ignored Grey population. He promised to introduce better anti-discrimination laws, reduce Mage police presence in Grey neighborhoods, and invest in non-Mage public education. Roger Badger, head of the Council of Grey and de facto representative for the non-Mages on the continent, had solidi�ed Manolis’ victory with his endorsement. The Council of Grey wasn’t an o�cial government agency, but in recent years it had become quite in�uential both in Loch and abroad with its organized advocacy. But although Greys were a minority in every faction, no one doubted that they were large enough to have a political impact. After all, Lothan Manolis had won his Senate campaign with a 65% majority.

His personality was perfect for politics: traditional, simple, and on top of it all, utterly boring. Rane knew his father didn’t actually care about the Greys, but the Grey vote was open for the taking.

In fact, his father didn’t seem to care for anything other than power, not even Rane’s mother. The only time Rane saw Lothan smile was while he was on television and when the government had chosen him to be the Water Faction’s delegate for the Interfactional Congress. Lothan was always like that, and the two despised each other even when she was alive. For as long as Rane could remember, the three of them were depressed and miserable.

It was cancer. But isn't it always cancer? Rane seemed to bear the majority of weight at the funeral, and it seemed to rain a little harder that day.

In the weeks after her death, Rane had hoped his father might pass, too, but the distance her passing put between them seemed almost a gift; in that year, the two fought less than ever before, and for a brief few days, Rane let himself believe things might actually change between them. He was wrong.

These thoughts bounced around his head as he waited for his chau�eur. He was being sent in place of his father to a meeting where many in�uential leaders Rane had never heard of were going to create a response to the Darkness Faction disaster. No one expected him to contribute, the whole thing was done more for the optics rather than to achieve anything.

Rane was far from eager to attend, but it wasn’t like he was going to sabotage his father’s plans, no matter how much the old man deserved it. At the very least, it would still give him something to do. As far as Rane was concerned, the Darkness mages probably just took this opportunity to hide


themselves from the rest of the world. If his only power was to disrupt other people’s powers, he’d probably have plenty of reasons to lay low too. Whatever the plan was, Lothan wanted to get early access to the information. Also, Rane suspected that his father was still hoping that giving Rane some sort of responsibility would inspire him to join him in his world of politics. But Rane had always refused the o�er, choosing instead to be a delinquent and a public nuisance. Nothing made Rane happier than seeing his father pissed o� every time he bailed him out of bad situations. Honestly, he expected to be homeless by now, but that would also be bad for his father's public image.

After packing some food, a pair of clothes, and water for the road, he waited outside for the personal chau�eur that would take the eight hour drive to South Bend in the Life Faction. There was no knowing what he would encounter on the way or once he got to his destination. It would be a boring drive, but what else was new? Once the lights �ashed o� the sleek black car in front of the home, Rane threw the suitcase into the trunk, slammed the back door closed, and watched as the house got smaller and smaller over the horizon. It was near midnight when he left, and Rane hadn't said a word the entire time. There were times where he was in and out of sleep, but the small amounts of sun that shone through the tinted windows caused a groan to come out of him. After rolling the windows down, he discovered that the car was right in the middle of some small Sanctuary town, and in a split second decision, opened the small door that separated him from the driver.

"Hey, could you stop here for a moment? I gotta take a leak." While Rane was taking care of his business, the night spoke to him. Chirps of crickets and owls

in the night �lled every crevice with noise. Sometimes Rane loved the night and other times despised it. Frankly speaking it depended on his father’s mood. Just the thought of Lothan sparked rage into Rane’s heart. What am I doing here? He thought to himself.

His father didn’t care for him. His mother was dead and now he was some political chess piece being moved about to satisfy some twisted aspect of his father’s power fantasy. Rane listened to his father to an extent. Doing what he was supposed to do for years. He was tired of it all. His dad of course would play the role of the politician, never actually solving anything and chastising his son at the same time for “wasting” his life. It was bullshit. Rane thought to himself, what if he could one up his father while doing some damn good for once. Then the idea struck him. If he actually solved the issue of the Darkness faction, he’d gain glory and fame, but most of all he’d destroy every single criticism his father’s laid on him ever since he was born.

Rane went back over to the car. He popped open the trunk and pulled out his belongings. He knocked on the driver's window and handed him a small wad of money, which he gladly accepted.

"How about we don't talk about this? You can tell my father I'll provide a full report within a few days." He winked.

With that, the car was gone within a few minutes, and at that point there was no looking back. There was no way that he was going back home after that.


Chapter 3 Ireland — The Giant’s Causeway The cold mountain air in Seattle whipped through Ireland’s short brown hair. It tore into her

jacket as she sprinted away from the men chasing her. She launched herself over garden walls and between residential streets, twisting and turning her way through the maze of her faction. She knew each bend, each corner, every stone by heart. Her pursuers’ footsteps faded as her long strides carried her to safety. The chase was over as rapidly as it started, and she slowly crept back to the center city square.

“Excellent work, Ireland. Your time is eight minutes and fourteen seconds, with only one deviation from the shortest route. Congratulations on another �rst place �nish,” the instructor called out. The tall, lithe woman smiled as the other members of her class glared at her. This was the �nal physical task assigned to them before the selection process, which determined a candidate’s placement in the faction. As the clear and distinct leader of the pack, Ireland was guaranteed her dream role: a NEST-F agent for the Neros Institute.

The process for becoming a leader was intense; only the top two percent of candidates made it to that lofty position. The top �ve percent were allowed to have input on their �nal placements, and only those with excellent academic scores and high-ranking physical attributes were allowed to even begin training. Ireland had always wanted to be on the front line for her faction, gathering intel and passing it along to those above her. Being in charge was never her goal; the adrenaline of being somewhere restricted called to her too much to ever sit in a stu�y room reading information packets and running a population. Breathing in the outdoors, simulating escapes from blown covers, all spy activities were right up her alley.

“Please report to the chancellor’s o�ce tonight at seven sharp. We will be selecting the top ten of you to become the next generation of spies, then pairing you with your handlers. That will be all.”

With that, the instructor turned his back to the small group of hopeful students and ascended the stairs to the Institution Headquarters. He dismissed them to worry about their results, or in Ireland’s case, to ponder who would become her contact while she was out on missions.

She decided to escape the hostility of her peers and walk around the city she loved so much. The Old City was barricaded high in the Cascade Mountains, and the sweeping landscape and evergreen trees were only interrupted by the snowy peaks o� in the distance. Most of the structures were stone, o� which the frigid air swirled and whistled. Ireland always thought that it perfectly captured the mentality of so many who lived here. The Neros Institute was not known for its hospitality to anyone, even those who failed from within. Success was a clearly de�ned line, and one that was instilled from the time they were young.

The narrow, winding cobblestone streets carried her towards her goal: the outskirts of the city. She exited the outer defense wall, hiked up the twisting path that quickly narrowed, and came to a small cemetery, one of the only �at places in the faction.


“Hi mom. Hey dad. I just wanted to tell you that this may be the last I see you for a while. I think I’ll be put on my �rst assignment soon. I was the top ranked spy in training this year.” Her breath turned into mist in front of her as she curled up between two granite headstones, cold seeping into her bones. “I think you’d be proud of me. I hope you’d be proud of me.”

The only sounds were the rustling of the old trees and the wind ghosting between the valleys and through her long hair. She stayed there for hours, long enough that her hands became numb and legs sti� from the cold. As she sat, her mind drifted away to happier times with her parents. She imagined them celebrating her position after the announcement tonight. She imagined her family dinner, and the comfort in her old home. It made her smile, even though she hadn’t been able to spend a lot of time there. As important and high ranking government o�cials, they were often busy with work and keeping the faction running at optimal levels. Added to that was the rigorous school schedule set by teachers and leaders alike. Every year, exams in both wielding and non-magical subjects were taken, and only the top students moved on. With only three days o� per school year, Ireland wasn’t able to relax with her parents much, but the times she had with them were her favorite and most fond memories.

At 18, she graduated basic schooling. With her strong wielding abilities and lightning fast re�exes, she was selected to become one of �fteen spy hopefuls. It was an intensive three year program, designed to push the students’ abilities to the limit and enable them to confront even the toughest situations. Tonight, the faction would be taking the top ten, and relegating the others to menial desk jobs, as they didn’t make the standards for the position. It was tough competition, but Ireland thrived on the adrenaline and thought that her faction had the best system for delegating jobs. After all, if you weren’t good at something, why should you be given the honor of holding the position?

She sighed. “I really wish you could be at the ceremony tonight. I’ll miss you.” Just four weeks before her �nal exams, her parents were involved in a freak accident. Her father

lost control of the car coming back up the mountain pass from o�cial government business. They careened o� the cli�, and it took emergency responders three days just to �nd the wreckage. It was a painful reminder that even the best and brightest of their faction were not invincible. Ireland threw her pain into schoolwork. Now twenty-one and about to graduate upper schooling, she missed her parents more than ever.

It was depressing for her to sit here, and so she meandered back down the twisting path to the Institution Headquarters. It was time for her to meet her handler.

The inner sanctum of the building was high-ceilinged, the stone pillars rising to the ceiling like giants standing guard in a palace. This opulence was not common in the Neros Institute, but re�ected the gravity of the situation. A few High ranking o�cials, composed mainly of black suits and greying hair, shu�ed into the chamber with a dull murmur as they took to the red velveted seats. All eyes were turned to the stage up front.


Ireland was going to be crowned as the shining jewel of spies, the next generation of warriors for her faction. She was sure of it. She trembled in her seat, not out of fear, but out of restless excitement. She hoped to be paired with Cal Tredmont, the valedictorian of her class, or Aila Greel, the very close second. Either of them, with brains and strong wielding abilities, would make a fearsome team with her �eld knowledge and eye for important details.

She sat next to her peers in the front row as the chancellor herself made the commencement address. She dismissed Trevor Pierre, Timothee Bates, Julia Westfall, Beverly Kimbly, and John Pell. All of them she thought would be cut. The chancellor was blunt in her dismissal, and then she called Ireland’s instructor to the stage, who subsequently called the other mentors to the stage. The instructor sported a furrowed brow and sharp eyes, his mouth twisted into a grimace. He strode to the center of the stage and grabbed the microphone as the handlers lined up behind him.

“First,” he spoke into the mic, pausing to allow the sharp squeal of feedback to reverberate around the room, “we all know why we’re here. Fifteen apply, but only ten pass. Top spy for this year is Ireland Glass.”

The room broke into polite, yet enthusiastic, applause. Ireland smiled as she walked up to the stage and bounded up the stairs, barely containing herself from jumping straight up to her instructor. He did not smile, and he did not reach out to shake her hand as was customary. She was surprised to feel the tendrils of her instructor’s disembodied voice in her mind.

“Don’t show any emotion.” It was seen as a grave insult to use mind control or telepathy with another mind wielder in the

Neros Institute. If she called him out right now, he would �nd himself in deep trouble. She kept her lips sealed.

“Ireland has been paired with Maxim Petrovsky. They will go through a few weeks of training before being sent out into the �eld.”

His voice was �at, but his words hit her with the force of a dump truck. She was paired with the worst handler of the group? The one who blew his own cover in Nox

and was kicked out of the spy program? She couldn’t help but let a �icker of anger pass across her face before forcing her expression back to its neutral state. As she glanced over to Maxim, she could see his ghostly pale eyes staring directly at her, then �icking back to face the audience, unwilling or unable to hold her gaze for more than a second. His sunken face and bony shoulders made pointed and unnatural angles, much like his sharply angled eyebrows and pinched mouth. Was it possible he didn’t know either? Did he get the same warning as she did? She went back to her seat in silence.

The rest of the ceremony moved in a blur for Ireland. What could she have done to be paired with the person who barely made it into the program? Why was she paired with someone who could barely control the mind of a butter�y? He would be dead weight, at best. Her mind raced as she tried to �gure out why all her hard work was dashed like a ship on a coral reef.


The only other part of the assembly that broke through her shock was the announcement of operatives being assigned to the new Council in response to the Nox republics collapse. Ireland hoped she might be the one, but then again she had hoped to not be assigned Maxim.

Soon it was over, and they were dismissed to begin paired training in the morning. She did not hang around to speak with Maxim afterwards.

Instead, she went directly home, not even stopping at the bakery as she normally did. She felt… fragile. The longer she was here, in the open, the higher the risk that she might crack, might break. If anyone saw that…

She climbed the stone steps to her modest apartment that was on the edge of the center city and slid the key into the lock before she realized something was very wrong. The small lamp she left on by the door was turned o�. Was this another test, or was this for real?

She silently pulled her key out of the lock and dropped to a crouch, slinking back down the stairs in silence. Once on the main cobblestone street, she crept around the back of the complex, looking for anything else out of place. The garbage cans that had been out front were pulled around back, giving someone enough height to climb up to the second story window that was in her bedroom. Now that she knew how they entered, she just needed to take them out. Following the intruder’s path, she perched silently on the cans and climbed up to peek through her window. She saw nothing but shadows. After a few seconds, she pulled herself into the building. The door to her bedroom was open, and she crept down the short hallway to the main living area. As she peeked around the corner, she saw a shadowy �gure sitting on the couch.

Strange, but easy to deal with. She could use mind control, incapacitate him— The �gure �icked the lamp back on. “Hello, Ireland.” Her instructor sat on her couch, casually lea�ng through a book left on the table beside it. The

rustling of the pages and the low hum of the air conditioning were the only sounds reverberating throughout her apartment.

“What are you doing here?” The man paused his mindless book browsing, and he met her eyes for the �rst time. “You’re in danger. It was all I could do to give you this chance to prove your loyalty. They

wanted you to have an accident on your �rst day with your handler. I bargained to give you the lowest handler in exchange for your life. Don’t blow it.”

Ireland’s head was spinning. Loyalty? When did she show disloyalty to her faction? She gave up everything to become a spy, to become the thing her leaders told her she excelled at. How was that showing disloyalty?

He slowly stood up and paced around her room, footsteps as silent as his shadow moving along the ground.

“What did I do?”


“You didn’t do anything. You need to keep your head down and not ask questions, especially not until you go on assignment. Pray it comes quickly. Then, you can redeem your family name. Now, I need to go before someone notices I’m here. This meeting never happened.”

He threw the book back on the table with a clatter and swept out of the room down the hallway.

“Wait!” Ireland called out, “did my parents do anything wrong?” He paused halfway out of the window. After a moment’s hesitation, he gave a brief nod and

disappeared out the window. Her parents did something against the faction. Something so bad that they wanted to hurt her

too. Was it an accident? Did another faction hurt them? Did hers? She sat heavily on the couch her instructor recently vacated, mind �ying through questions and scenarios at a mile a minute. What could they have possibly done? All throughout her childhood, they preached the ideals of the Neros Institute, that the smartest and most capable were chosen for the job, that the hardworking and naturally gifted would succeed. Did they keep a secret agenda hidden even from their own daughter?

She did not sleep well that night. The lamp by the door stayed on.


Chapter 4 Maxim — The Hornet’s Nest Maxim could barely �t in the small o�ce area; his long legs had nowhere to go and were

cramped uncomfortably under his desk. It’s been like this for a while. He had �nished most of his training and paperwork, and was starting to focus on memorizing the details of his cover job.

Today was the most important day of his life. Maxim would be taking part in the pairing ceremony, where he would meet the person he’d be in charge of for the rest of his life. This was the duties of the handler; they would manage and be the agent’s contact to the higher-ups. Maxim chewed his lip. He didn’t want to fail his new agent like he had failed his own mission.

As soon as that thought crossed his mind, a woman knocked on his door, and asked him to join the rest of his classmates for the pairing ceremony. He felt relieved that he would be out of his tiny o�ce, but also excited at the prospect of meeting his new partner.

Maxim buttoned the last button of his shirt, re-combed his hair and adjusted his tie before walking down the short hallway to meet with the rest of the handlers. Maxim had heard that the spies would be paired up with interns of the same standing in the class, but he wasn’t the best student (hadn’t been since the incident), so he wouldn’t be paired with the top student spy. This didn’t necessarily bother him, but he was hoping that the other student could pull their weight.

As he and the rest of the handlers make their way into the auditorium, Maxim was struck by the cavernous feel of the room. It was massive and made of stone, with hints of gold decor littering the ceiling. The echo of shoes across the stage let the high ranking o�cials in the crowd know that the ceremony was beginning, and they hushed in expectant excitement. Maxim was one of the last to take a seat, going behind his more exuberant classmates, but nonetheless was anxiously awaiting for his name to be called.

“You are all going to do something very important for the Neros Institution.” It was a woman’s voice at the far end of the room. Maxim straightened himself up. Maxim saw her. She emerged onto the stage, making herself visible above the dozens of heads pointed in her direction. She was tall and thin, but lean, her face etched with harsh, experienced lines. Tatyanna Cardinale. The Chancellor.

“You are all members of this esteemed academy,” the chancellor continued. “Some of you will join our family of spies at NEST-F being active in strategic roles in foreign locations.”

The espionage program was one of the most honourable positions within the Neros Institution, although the secrecy of the spy program was questionable. Everyone on the continent knew about the spy program, but could do little to prevent it. Spies tended to carry their secrets to the grave. If Maxim recalled correctly one was serving as assistant to Senator Manolis in Loch, one was an insider to King Dazzle’s circle in Kingdom Miami, one was a defense coordinator in Moh. The faction had spies in the Council of Grey, in the Snake Bay Pirates, all of the major faction governments.

“Again, I congratulate you on making it this far,” Tatyanna said. “This room represents the best and the brightest our Faction has cultivated. But we need better than that. We need the best of the best . If you are selected today, appreciate your success, but recognize that the real job has yet to begin. We


will be pairing each of you with a handler. They will help prepare you for aspects of this job that our training programs never could. You will all continue to maintain the cover provided by the academy that you are all studying abroad; in this instance, it will be an internship working under government leaders. For those of you rejected, you will never speak of this matter and be assigned to another class suitable to your talents. I do not need to remind you of the consequences for sharing any information. We will know.”

A quiet murmuring spread through the room. Tatyanna silenced it with a sharp gaze. “Of the �fteen, Trevor Pierre, Timothee Bates, Julia Westfall, Beverly Kimbly, and John Pell...you have not been selected to the �eld. Thank you for your hard work, please exit the auditorium.”

Five people stood up on the stage. Their heads glued to the �oor as they were escorted outside by a few men wearing blacksuits. Maxim felt pity for those unfortunate rejections, but then again with their skills, they were likely to �nd some cushy job maintaining the institution or even teaching a new batch of the country's great minds. Tayanna herself kept a rather cold expression. Truly she embodied the Neros way of logic and calculation. To her they probably seemed like bad investments who needed to learn their value.

Tatyanna gestured with her hand, indicating to one of the mentors to continue the ceremony. He nodded, and began to speak, describing the best student in the spy program. Maxim sighed, and shifted anxiously in wait. He suspected the best was Ireland, after everything he’d heard of her abilities. For himself, however, he knew his name would be called close to last, but the wait he would have to endure made him anxious, especially after the news of the dead spies in Nox. He resolved to wait for his name to be called.

It came much faster than anticipated. After what feels like just a few sparse opening remarks, he heard, “Ireland has been paired with Maxim Petrovsky.”

His breath stopped for a second. Him? Why him? Wasn’t the system supposed to pair the top students with the top spies? He wasn’t an idiot, sure, but he wasn’t the strongest caster or one to think quick on his feet and Ireland was almost legendary in her powers while she was at school. As he sat, dazed in his chair, he could hear the whispers of other minds at the edge of his own.

Ireland, with him?! He’s only in the handler program because he failed his first mission in the Nox Republic! Everyone thought he would be the cause of our best spy’s downfall. He quickly turned to glance at Ireland, hoping he heard wrong. But if the look of shock on

Ireland’s face for just a split second was any insight, he heard correctly. They were going to be teammates. Immediately, he felt like he had to step up his game, practice his wielding more to be able to keep up with her, but for now, he was like a child up on this massive stage in front of top dignitaries, all wondering why he was chosen to be partnered with the most talented spy the academy has seen in years.

Tatyana took to the stage once the partners had all been announced and while Maxim was still processing his unnatural pairing he did hear Tatyana say one thing of particular note.


“I will be withdrawing the Neros Institute from the Congress. Two undercover NEST-F agents were killed in Nox, so it’s personal to us, and the last thing we need is for our investigators to get caught up in red tape.”

Maxim felt a chill go down his spine. Two agents had been killed in Nox. If he hadn’t blown his own cover, he would’ve been dead, too. Everyone he had interacted with in Saint Paul while undercover, all of the scientists and government o�cials, all of the families in the parks, men, women, and children in the schools and supermarkets, were likely dead now. He curled his hand into a �st and watched on.

“One of you will be a part of our espionage into the Congress and I tell you this as a form of trust. You’ve reached a new level within our community, and this information is our form of congratulations. With that I ask you to continue the pursuit of knowledge and for you all to help ensure the safety and prosperity of our faction. Thank you.”

As the ceremony came to a close, Ireland slipped away into the small crowd and out the doors before he could say a word. As he moved to follow her, he was intercepted by his classmates.

“How did you get Ireland? We all know I’m the best recruit on this side of handling, and your failures follow you like vultures to dead meat,” asked Cal Treadmont, valedictorian of their class. His upturned nose gave him a distinctly snobby look at all times, and Maxim felt himself boxed in by everyone crowding around him.

“I don’t know. We don’t decide who we’re paired with,” he answered softly. “That’s true. They probably want to unleash her on the other factions and want as small of a

grip on her as possible,” Aila Greel laughed. “Anyway, we should all go introduce ourselves to them.” As they trickled away, Maxim let out a deep sigh of relief. He never felt as strong as others in his class, but he was not going to give up just because they didn’t think he was capable. He was going to show them that he could be just as e�ective as the rest, and redeem himself of his terrible mistake.


Chapter 5 Eleanor — Sanctuary With the rain pounding against the window and the soft music streaming through

headphones, it felt like today could be a good day. There weren’t many here in the shadow of the Tree of Life, where her sister was eternally hated by all mages and her mother was convinced that she would be dragged away by the Sister.

The textbook in her lap was heavy, weighing down her legs, but she didn’t move it. She was content to �ip through the pages until her mother came in to say that she was damning her and her sister’s chances of living a normal life in The Sanctuary of the Holy Mother with her academic pursuits. She didn’t care that she didn’t �t the Life Faction archetype. She was just happy to study science and medicine and read big books.

“Ruth!” The wooden door to her room slammed against the wall, rattling her shelves and sending the

plants tumbling to the ground. Eleanor grumbled when she stood, dumping the book on her chair and �icking her wrist at the fallen plants, which straightened themselves back up.

“She’s not here,” she groaned. She pulled the headphones out of her curly mess of hair and onto her shoulders. Eleanor Sloane’s hair seemed to have a life of its own. The coppery brown curls twisted and twirled wherever they wanted, often tangling themselves in Eleanor’s glasses or headphones or pens or even her �owers and leaves.

Eleanor’s mother stood in the doorway, hands on her hips, long peasant skirt billowing around her. “I know she is. If your sister goes out, do you know what kind of trouble she could be in?”

Eleanor groaned again and rolled her eyes. “Mother, I mean it, Ruth isn’t here.” She collected the fallen plants in her hands, depositing the piles of dirt on the desk and carefully packing the roots back in. When she held the plants in her hands, the leaves squirmed with life.

The frown stayed on her mother’s face. “Come on, Ruth,” Eleanor sighed. From under the bed, a small girl, no older than twelve, crawled out, a huge ball of ginger fur

secured in her arms. Like Eleanor, her hair made its own decisions and was never to be tamed. But, instead of brown, it was bright purple. Once out from under the bed, the ginger cat lept from the girl’s dark arms toward the mother in the doorway, wrapping itself around her legs and purring deeply.

“Why would you do that?” her mother said. “Hide away? I thought you were missing.” Ruth shrugged, leaning back over to pick back up the now hissing cat. Their mother was the

most paranoid person on the continent. At every knock on the door, she would jump, even if it was just a neighbor dropping o� missent mail.

“Stop hiding your sister. If she keeps her head down, The Mother will love her all the same.” With a �ourish, the mother turned and left the room, the cat following happily.


Immediately, Eleanor assumed the role their mother had played: hands on hips, lips pursed, anger oozing from her bright eyes. Even though she knew her sister frequently hid under her bed, Eleanor hated when her mother blamed the habit on her. Eleanor let o� an air of �erce intimidation.

“Why do you always have to do that?” Eleanor said, frowning. She picked up one of her sister’s curls, which made her dark eyes and dark skin almost shine, and tugged on it teasingly.

Eleanor’s anger melted away as she pulled Ruth into her chest to hug her. The girls fell back onto Eleanor’s canopy bed, which was draped with vines and leaves, all of which twittered excitedly when they sank into the mattress.

“I just don’t want to be out in the open,” Ruth �nally spoke, her pink lips parting delicately and carefully, as though any dramatic movement might hurt her. “You know there’s prejudice against Greys, and everyone at school tells me that I hurt the Garden and The Mother.”

Eleanor slipped her thin �ngers around her sister’s small hand. “That isn’t true.” Ruth closed her eyes and breathed deeply. She carried so many weights and pressures on her

back, preventing her from being anything but careful and precise and accurate. She could not make mistakes. For a twelve-year-old, she had eyes and knowledge as wise as a seventy-year-old. Their mother always said that if she had magic, Ruth would’ve had a chance to become the next Sister.

The smell of smoke drifted through the door cracks and window panes from downstairs and outside. It was always hazy and dark in The Sanctuary of the Holy Mother, especially this close to the capital.

In a world as prejudiced as this, Eleanor Sloane lived her life holding her hand close to her chest. She didn’t talk to anyone about her sister (she was worried they would take her, a paranoid idea her mother instilled early on), or her time at college (she was afraid for herself because knowledge was not important here, and education was viewed as individualistic, a sin against the Mother), or the fact that her only goal in life wasn’t to serve the Mother. Or that she liked girls.

But for Eleanor, she felt like all the bad things that happened in her life were meant to protect her from something much worse. Her father had already disappeared a long time ago, and she had been taking care of Ruth for as long as she could remember. Her mother was always too high to help.

“Don’t worry, Ruth. It’ll all be �ne.”

Walking through The Sanctuary of the Holy Mother, Eleanor always felt slightly uncomfortable and out of place. She hiked her huge, textbook-�lled backpack further up her shoulders and put her head down, trying not to make eye contact with anyone she passed.

“It’s a beautiful day in The Garden, don’t you think?” A lady with long hair woven with braids said to another lady at a stall along the street. The market in the middle of town was notorious for its range of wares: not only pottery thrown bowls and hand knit scarves, but plastic bags of weed and stolen prescriptions.

Eleanor walked faster. Her mother’s desire was to see her daughters �ourish in the high levels of government next to the Sister. She wanted them to serve the Mother as she did.


The street was crowded with sleepy people walking slowly, chatting and laughing, carefree and indulging in their wants. There was a musk in the air as Eleanor slid between people, brushing against their loose clothing and praying the smell did not transfer to her. The last thing she wanted was people at school thinking she was a druggie.

Eleanor’s grad school was on the edge of the city, beyond even the far-reaching roots of the Tree of Life, full of academics and professors who all cared like Eleanor did.

“Can I interest you in a little treat, sweetie?” An old woman with mangy white hair and crooked teeth cackled at Eleanor as she walked past, shaking a bottle of pills in her face.

Eyes �xed on the sidewalk. Eleanor passed without a word. Whenever she left her mother’s house, Eleanor tried to remember the rules she set for herself to

survive the place that tried to shape her into something that was not herself. First: Don’t engage. Second: Hold your own. Third: Don’t fall into the trap your mom did. Her mother had tried to be di�erent, too. She had learned and studied and applied to all the

best colleges in an attempt to be a doctor, but the Sister had brought her back. No one could leave the Garden.

But Eleanor knew she and Ruth would be the �rst.

Between classes, Eleanor sat in the small co�ee shop in the campus library, thumbing through her textbooks and sipping deca�einated tea. If she wasn’t going to do the drugs that her mother brought into the house, then she wasn’t going to drink ca�eine either.

It was cozier, warmer, than many other places in the Sanctuary. To her, everywhere else felt cold and unwelcoming, probably because she knew that she didn’t belong.

“Eleanor!” The loud, screeching voice was both comforting and irritating. She shut her book with a sigh and looked up to �nd her best (and only) friend, Bennet. He sported a wide grin that shone with the aura of the Life Faction, but with his starched plaid shirts and perfect ties, no one would ever know. The librarian shushed him, giving him a warning.

“Have you �nished the reading for today’s lecture? It was so long!” Bennett emphasized the ‘o’ sound in so, dragging it out as he fell into the chair next to Eleanor and deposited his backpack next to her.

“I �nished it two days ago, and I already did next week’s readings too,” Eleanor replied, swirling the teaspoon in her cup. She dropped it with a clink. “How about you?”

Bennett was a nice guy, really. Eleanor wouldn’t have been friends with him if he wasn’t. But in a world where it seemed like everything could self-destruct in a moment, especially after the Warring Times, Eleanor could hardly rely on friends. She only wanted her sister (and her mother, sometimes).

Bennett rolled his eyes and bent over his bag. “Of course you did,” He laughed and pulled out a heavy textbook identical to Eleanor’s own. “I’ve got like 20 more pages to read. Don’t you think this one was hard?”


Eleanor shrugged. “I guess.” Sensing Eleanor's lack of a need to talk, Bennett laughed again and cracked open his book,

�ipping to the right page before beginning to read in silence. Like Eleanor thought, Bennett was a good guy. He knew when to shut up.

The time leading up to and following classes were always good. Eleanor felt at home, at peace surrounded by academics, even though she was the only student from the forest. Her college campus felt like constant autumn, where everyone should be wearing thick sweaters and long scarves all the time. Like there should constantly be orange and red leaves sprinkling the sidewalk (because they wielded Life, and they could control that sort of thing if they wanted to).

“Bye, Eleanor! See you in class tomorrow!” Bennett called as he walked away, scattering leaves in his wake. Eleanor forced a grin and waved.

Pushing her hair behind her ears, she began the walk home, vision obscured by the expanding mass of frizzy hair that had grown throughout the day. It was cool for a summer day, and the only thing Eleanor wanted to do when she got home was throw open the apartment windows, tend to her plants, and get started on the next Neuroscience reading.

But when she unlocked the front door, she found a trail of pill bottles and a still-smoking blunt on the co�ee table, all leading to her shaking, crying mother.

“Mom? What’s going on?” Her mother looked up from her huddled fetal position, shoulders heaving. “The Factions,” she sobbed, “They’re disappearing! The Darkness Faction has disappeared!” With that, she collapsed into further tears, leaving Eleanor to clean up her mother’s mess and

wonder what would happen next.

“Can’t we just go for a little while? I haven’t been outside in ages.” Ruth’s voice was high and whiny while she sat on the couch, wrapped in a blanket. After her mother found out the Darkness Faction had disappeared, Ruth was not allowed to leave the house.

“I’ll bet you it was The Sister who did it!” her mother had whispered, eyes wide, hair wild and frizzy. “What if they take her?” After the entirety of the Nox Republic was killed, people in the village had begun to speculate. Some people suspected the Decay Faction, and some thought it was King Dazzle down in Kingdom Miami, the historic enemy of the Nox Republic. Others accused the NEST-F spies and Neros Institute, the human purist groups, Snake Bay Pirates. Blame was thrown everywhere, but led to no answers.

Her mother clung to Ruth, pulling her into her heaving chest, grip so tight that Ruth could not get away. So she couldn’t be taken from them.

“Sorry, Ruthie. You know you aren’t allowed.” As much as Eleanor wanted to please her sister, she didn’t want to let Ruth go either. She couldn’t. She wouldn’t risk it. She knew something bad was going to happen.

Ruth frowned and pulled the blanket further over her body. She cranked up the volume on the TV. Eleanor sighed. She knew what Ruth was doing; she was trying to get Eleanor to feel bad for her.


It wouldn’t work because Eleanor couldn’t let it work. “I’ll go get you some ice cream or something, that’ll cheer you up, right?” Eleanor smiled. Ruth

didn’t answer, but the volume on the TV turned down. “I’ll be back in a few.” With that Eleanor slipped her feet into a pair of sandals, pulled a sweater around her shoulders,

and headed out the door and down the street towards the center of town. It was hot out then, at the beginning of summer, with the hot air brushing against her cheeks and sweat dripping down her back. But it was nice, too, with life in full bloom around her. Eleanor felt more whole and alive when everything was green and bright and full of life.

The streets were crowded with people enjoying the nice weather, laughing and talking. The kind, peaceful facade of happy gardeners and farmers communicating with the land, the earth, with life.

A neighbor tending to her tomato plants waved at Eleanor as she passed, and Eleanor tried to smile back. It might have been her mother’s paranoia inside her, but she thought the neighbor had a crooked, secretive smile.

In fact, everyone Eleanor passed looked like they were hiding something. They could all be out to get her sister and her mother and her. She couldn’t trust anyone.

In the freezer aisle of the grocery store, Eleanor felt all eyes on her. Their gazes were like hot nails in her back, straight through the skin and muscle and bone, right out of her chest. If the people stared any longer, they might melt the ice cream.

“$3.79, please,” said the perky cashier. Her two blonde buns wiggled back and forth on her head when she tilted it and smiled.

Eleanor tried to mirror the happy expression, but the smile was shaky and unsure, so she just shoved a few crumpled up bills on the counter.

“Keep the change.” She mumbled. Her face grew red with blush and fear. “Have a great day!” The cashier giggled. Eleanor left quickly, sandals smacking the damp and

slightly sticky tiles. She avoided everyone’s gaze as she walked home. “Eleanor!” Someone called out. “How’s your mother? Have a blessed day!” Eleanor kept her head down, strands of hair blocking her eyes, and focused on the

condensation on the outside of the cardboard ice cream container. She didn’t have a bag - she’d forgotten her reusable one, and the grocery stores didn’t use plastic ones anymore. They weren’t good for the Mother.

“Ruth, I got mint chocolate chip and cookie dough, I couldn’t decide which is better.” Ruth hadn’t moved from being huddled under her blanket. She clung to their ginger cat,

Arthur, who looked perpetually grumpy. “Come on, Ruthie.” Eleanor dumped the ice cream cartons in her sister’s lap and tugged on

one bright purple curl. Even though her face appeared angry, Ruth giggled. “I’ll feel better if you go get spoons.”


“Where’s mom?” Eleanor called while she dug through the silverware drawer for two clean spoons. She couldn’t remember the last time her mother had done the dishes. The kitchen was in disarray, despite her best e�orts—there were abandoned chip bags, yogurt lids, and unclean dishes across the countertops, all leaving behind an unpleasant stench that Eleanor’s numerous air fresheners could not remove.

“I don’t know,” Ruth called. “She hasn’t talked to me all day.” Eleanor sighed, unsurprised at her mother’s behavior, and she nestled into the couch next to

her sister. She crowded her, as if her close presence alone could keep Ruth safe.

When Eleanor woke the next morning, a few days after the attack, she could feel something was wrong. She didn’t know what made her so sure, but the knots in Eleanor’s stomach told her to panic, to rush out of bed, rip o� her blankets, search the house for her mother and her sister.

“Ruthie? Ruth? Are you here?” She slammed open her sister’s bedroom door, and then her mother’s, but no bodies were in either bed.

“Oh my god,” Eleanor sobbed into her hands. She couldn’t even �nd the cat. “Breathe, Eleanor, breathe.” She pulled a sweatshirt over her head and rushed down the stairs, tripping two at a time, praying that her mother and sister would just be on the couch, waiting for her and watching television, laughing about an early morning TV show.

The couch was bare; the blankets were all folded and tossed over the back; the pillows were arranged neatly on each end.

“Crap, crap, crap.” Eleanor opened every door on the bottom �oor of their home, praying that maybe her mother had lost something in a closet or Ruth had decided to cook breakfast in the kitchen, but she knew she wouldn’t �nd them there.

“Mom? Ruth?” She called again, desperate for a response. There wasn’t even a note on the table, no message about a quick, �ve minute trip to the store, had to pick up some milk, be back soon. Nothing but silence.

And then a whirlwind overtook the house. All the living things began to droop as Eleanor panicked- the plants on the windowsill and the bookshelves and on top of the fridge and hanging in the corner of the ceiling all shivered- and the front door banged open, revealing her mother supporting a slumped Ruth.

“I knew they would hurt her!” shrieked her mother, “I knew it.” The second the door closed behind them, Eleanor’s mother fell to the ground, still cradling Ruth like she was a baby, small enough to be secure in her arms, without any intention of letting her go.

“Mom!” Eleanor tried to pull Ruth unsuccessfully from her mother’s grip, and instead she settled for stroking her sister’s hair and scanning her body for all signs of injury and pain. “What happened? What’s wrong with her? Ruthie? Can you hear me?”

“They tried to take her, just like I said they would! They tried to take my baby! Why won’t the Mother love her! The Mother is supposed to love us all!” Every passing minute seemed to increase her


mother’s tears, so when she was distracted enough by the sobbing, Eleanor carefully pried her sister from her mother’s �rm grasp and scanned her body again.

“Ruth, it’s Eleanor.” She blatantly ignored her mother. “You need to tell me what happened to you.”

When Ruth didn’t even �inch, Eleanor placed Ruth down and ran for the phone and began to dial an ambulance.

“NO!” her mother lunged at her, reaching for the curly cord on their dated phone. “They’ll take her, poison her! We can’t trust anyone! They must’ve �gured out that Ruth is a non-mage!” Her face was mangled and psychotic, heavy makeup running down her cheeks and hair unkempt around her shoulders.

“Mommy?” Ruth stirred from where she had been left on the �oor, blinking her eyes and holding her side. When she coughed, she coughed up blood.

“Ruth!” Her mother sobbed, falling back on top of her hurt daughter. “My baby.” “It hurts.” Tiny, pearl-like tears dripped from the corners of Ruth’s eyes. “Everything hurts,

Mommy.” It was like Eleanor’s sister reverted into a childlike state, losing all the wisdom that had made Ruth herself.

It hurt to see her sister in so much pain. Why hadn’t she been with her sister? What had happened to her? Why did it seem like the world was falling apart?

“What happened, Ruth?” Eleanor bent down and pulled her sister into her lap. Away from her manic mother. “Who hurt you?”

Eleanor’s heart was pounding hard and fast against her ribcage, rattling and shaking her body. It was as though someone had turned a dial up to the highest speed her heart rate could possibly be.

“Just some kids outside the school.” Ruth coughed again, blood dribbling down her chin. “I know I’m not supposed to go anymore, but I was supposed to give my history presentation on the Warring Times today, and I didn’t want to miss it.”

“What kids?” Eleanor growled. She ignored everything else Ruth had said, because it was unimportant. Nothing was as important as keeping Ruth safe. How could she had been so stupid? Why wasn’t she awake to stop Ruth from going to school?

“I don’t remember,” Ruth breathed through her tears. It was an obvious lie, Eleanor knew, from the wobble in her sister’s bottom lip and her shaking chin. But she had to let it go, because the skin on Ruth’s side was blossoming into a bright blue and purple bruise, and the coughing wouldn’t stop.

“I’m calling an ambulance.” Eleanor stood, closely followed by her mother. “Don’t try and stop me, Mom, because you can’t.”

The plants in the room were completely shriveled when Eleanor hung up the phone call and put on shoes, tying the laces carefully beneath her long pajama pants. Her mother had gone back to cradling Ruth’s head, still sobbing, while poor, injured, hurt, sad, little Ruth tried to calm her mother down. It wasn’t fair.


“What happened, Mom, for real? And why were you there? How did you �nd her?” Eleanor scraped her mess of hair into a semi-acceptable bun on top of her head (because of the volume and curls, Ruth always said this sort of bun looked like a pineapple).

Her mother wiped the makeup stains from under her eyes with the hem of her shirt, mixing even more colors into the mix of tie dye.

“I don’t know. I was just coming back from my morning walk, and I heard shouts in the school yard. When I saw the bright purple hair, I knew it had to be my Ruthie, so I ran over, and…” Eleanor’s mother did not �nish her thought, collapsing instead into one of the empty waiting room chairs, overwhelmed by tears.

Ruth had been taken back for CT scans and x-rays, all to make sure her internal bleeding was not as severe as the paramedics suspected. Instead of harassing her mother more, as she had done for the past hour, Eleanor sat down beside her mother and reached for her hand, holding it �rmly between her own.

Eleanor knew her mother’s morning routine down to the minute. She woke up before the sun rose, drank a cup of co�ee and smoked a cigarette, and then wandered down to the community garden to tend to the plants while the sun rose.

“It makes me feel like I am one with the Earth and the Mother,” Eleanor remembered her mother telling her one morning when she was little. She must have been no older than �ve or six, and she had still thought that her mother would be able to care for her. It was before Ruth was born too- her father had still been around then. She and her mother stood in the center of the community garden as she showed her how to manipulate plants with her movements. It was like a dance— the �uid �owing motions, as if the person and the plant were one person, moving in perfect harmony.

She must’ve been on the way back by the time Ruth was at school, because her mother always stayed in the garden for as long as she could before she came home and prepared for her meetings.

But how did her mother hear the screams—the school was not on the normal route she took home—and how did she know it was Ruth? Her mother would not have run down to the school’s courtyard for anyone but Ruth, and she couldn’t have spotted Ruth’s hair from far away, despite its vibrancy.

Eleanor abandoned her train of thought as she felt her mother’s shoulders shake against her own. She was still her mother, and she still loved Eleanor and Ruth more than anything. They were all she had left.

Eleanor sank down onto her mother’s shoulder and closed her eyes, sti�ing the sadness she felt rising within her own chest. She would be strong, she thought.

They were all she had left.


Chapter 6 Leopold — The Congress It was Ainsley who opened the car door for Leopold. Leopold noted that because, despite what

many in Castle Miami assumed upon seeing Ainsley—a tall, aging man with a grey mustache that mimicked the shape of his jacket’s coattails—the man was not a servant. Well, perhaps a servant in some aspects, Leopold mused, but not in the traditional sense of the word. Ainsley Flicker was a scholar, probably the second most trusted advisor to Leopold’s father, the king. He was an expert on each and every one of the factions from Life to Mind to Storm. Some at Castle Miami had nicknamed Ainsley King Isaac’s Encyclopedia. And that’s why his father had sent him along, of course.

But Ainsley opened the car door for him—that was bad for optics. It made the man look like a butler, and in turn made Leopold look like a brat, a stereotypical pampered son of an overzealous, exorbitantly wealthy king from far away. Leopold knew what the other factions said about him and his own faction, Light. That their monarchy was outdated in the twenty-�rst century, that their system led to wild instability. Unreliability, even. They respected his father, sure, but what would they think of him, the boy who inherited his position through blood rather than merit? Some of their whispers made it back to Castle Miami, and most of those whispers didn’t express a signi�cant level of con�dence.

And when the factions had agreed to call a Congress of Crisis, Leopold had, of course, been concerned. If every faction could agree to set aside their di�erences and work together, then something was wrong. Very wrong. But a crisis could be an opportunity.

“Don’t do that,” Leopold whispered into Ainsley’s ear as the two made their way down the elaborate walkway to the conference building. Ten �ags lined the path on either side, one for each of the factions, even including one for Decay, though it did not have a representative at the Congress. Leopold thought for a moment that it would have perhaps been wiser to leave the Decay �ag o�, considering that the Decay faction had no diplomatic relations with the other factions, and hadn’t replied to a request to send a delegate to the Congress.

“Don’t do what, sir?” Ainsley asked. “Treat me like a prince,” Leopold replied. Then, before the old man could say another word,

Leopold answered the protest he knew was coming. “Yes, I know I am a prince. But you are a member of my council. Let the servants act as servants.” Ainsley nodded his understanding.

The Air Faction had really done their diligence in preparing the city for their arrival, but their decorations did little to remedy the depressing atmosphere. Leopold had never been to this part of the continent before — not because he couldn’t a�ord it, and not because he wouldn’t be welcomed by Air’s government, but rather because there was nothing really worth seeing here. Flat plains stretched on for miles in all directions outside of the capital, Oklahoma City. Even Oklahoma City itself was ugly and oppressive, a brooding kind of uncomfortable. Propaganda posters hung from the buildings and lampposts, right along with security cameras and warning signs. Angry wind turbines whirred on the


roofs of the buildings. It really was a horrible place, nothing like the glimmering, golden streets of Miami.

“It’s a nice city, don’t you think?” Ainsley asked him, as if reading his mind. “Hardly,” Leopold replied sourly. “The dungeons in Castle Miami aren’t half as depressing. It

feels like a prison.” It was the Air Faction’s reputation for extreme security and surveillance (as well as their

extreme commitment to the Peace Accords) that had led to the city being chosen as the location for the Congress in the �rst place. Gathering so many important people in a single place was a dangerous move, and an unprecedented one. But, as the factions had decided, a necessary one.

Ainsley shushed him. “You wouldn’t want anyone here to hear you talking about their capital like that.” Leopold rolled his eyes.

“As if anyone could hear me over those fucking windmills. If the hotel isn’t soundproofed, I’m sleeping in my plane.” The prince gestured around him subtly, not wanting to attract any more attention to his complaints. Ainsley didn’t bother responding.

Leopold’s entourage followed behind him. It was a large group—ten servants from Castle Miami (on this trip they had opted to refer to them simply as staff ), as well as a small logistics team. Two agents from the Dawn of Light Guard followed as a protection detail. Leopold’s father had wanted to send �fteen, but Leopold knew how paranoid it would appear. Besides, Air was more than competent when it came to security. It was one of the few things he respected about the faction.

At the end of the long walkway, past the �ags and fountains, stood two well-dressed individuals, one man and one woman, standing side-by-side.

“Karla Gustough and Patrick Hicinopoulus,” Ainsely whispered into Leopold’s ear. Leopold recognized the names. The co-presidents of the faction. He faked a smile as he approached them.

“Ms. Gustough, Mr. Hicinopoulus—what a pleasure.” Leopold �ashed them each one of his rehearsed smiles and took turns shaking their hands. “What a gorgeous city. I’m honored to be here.”

“The honor is ours,” Karla replied warmly. “We’re delighted to host you and your brother here in Oklahoma City. We regret the circumstances, however.”

Leopold threw on a solemn face and nodded his agreement. “Yes, it’s a tragedy, what’s happened.”

“Is there any word on Ms. Cornicus?” Leopold shook his head. “We haven’t been able to reach her, but we remain hopeful.” Karla looked to the ground. “Please accept our condolences. I can't even begin to imagine how di�cult that must be for

you.” Leopold played along with the grieving shtick, but in reality, it wasn’t very di�cult at all. He

had seen Edna Cornicus a grand total of twice in his life, and he had spoken to her only once. It was over dinner in Miami, right after a live showing of the play The End of the End. Miami was Edna and her troupe’s last stop on a year-long tour of the continent. Edna was the lead actress, portraying the hero Katja Stern magni�cently. And she was beautiful.


But that didn’t mean Leopold wanted to marry her, nor the reverse. No, it was Leopold’s father who had arranged the whole thing. It was a political move; aside from Leon Fitzgerald, the president, Edna was probably the most well-known name from the Darkness Faction. The crown prince of Light marrying the esteemed actress from Darkness—it was quite a statement. And King Isaac Dazzle was certainly the one for making grand statements.

And at that dinner, to no one’s surprise, they didn’t quite hit it o�. She was rude, pretentious, and obnoxiously ambitious. She was probably the worst person he had ever met. And yet she was meant to be his wife. Leopold couldn’t help but silently hope they would discover her body amongst the carnage in Saint Paul. At least something positive could come of all this.

“Yes, it’s certainly a very di�cult time for me.” Leopold let his voice catch in his throat a bit, then cleared it. He could see the sympathy on Karla’s face. “But now is not the time to grieve. Now is the time for action.”

“I’m glad to hear you see it that way,” Karla said. “Because there’s quite a bit of work that needs to be done.

Karla gestured for Leopold to follow her, and he did so, his sta� staying behind to get his accommodations. Karla brought him through the reception hall — an enormous chamber with towering oak walls, a room just as dull and barren as the city outside. The ceiling high above them was a massive glass dome, which may have helped lighten up the room if it weren’t so murky outside.

“This is the advisory committee’s chamber,” Karla explained to Leopold. “They’re in recess until August, so let’s just hope we have this matter resolved by then.”

“I certainly do,” Leopold replied. That, at least, wasn’t a lie. He didn’t know whether he could bear spending months trapped in this city. Karla brought him right out the back.

“This is our government’s campus.” A long mall stretched out in front of them, maybe a mile, unobstructed. On either side of the lawn were buildings, and at the end dual manors —one for each of the co-presidents, Leopold presumed. “The gates surrounding the campus are guarded twenty-four-seven,” Karla continued. “360-degree cameras, motion sensors, pressure plates—we spare no expense to keep our people safe.”

Leopold nodded his feigned interest through the rest of the brief tour. They ended up in the lobby of a hotel on the far end of the government campus. “We have most of the representatives staying here at the Luftsanft or at the Breeze next to the Chamber,” Karla told him. “I’ll be joining the Congress as the representative from Stratos. I hope that you and I might be able to work together.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Not all factions share our commitment to peace and cooperation.”

And with that she was gone. Leopold knew what she was talking about—his father had long been known as a friend to the Peace Accords. Hell, he’d gone to war with the previous king to get it implemented in Kingdom Miami. Being the crown prince, Leopold was expected to share all his father’s sentiments, which was rarely the case. On this particular point, though, Leopold was fully in agreement with the king. It wasn’t that he respected the other factions (he certainly didn’t), but he didn’t want a war.

Leopold texted Ainsley to meet him in the lobby. A few seconds later, he was there.


“Room 1060,” Ainsely told him as they got into the elevator. “They’ve put you in the presidential suite on the top �oor.”

“What an honor,” Leopold replied sarcastically. He jammed his �nger on the 10 button rapidly, praying the door would close before someone

else could enter. He was almost so lucky. A moment before the door connected with the wall, however, a hand shot in to stop it. Leopold groaned.

Once he saw the woman, though, Leopold’s annoyance vanished into a cloud of intrigue. She was stunning. From her ears hung two pinecones, and on her body she wore a dull but perfectly-tailored burlap gown. She was perhaps only twenty-two, and her bleach-blonde hair was braided in neat rows behind her head.

“Wanda Duponte,” Ainsley whispered in his ear. “The Sister, Leader of the Life faction.” Leopold watched as she clicked the 9 button on the elevator. Her �ngers were long, her skin

pale. Her presence made the elevator feel �fteen degrees cooler. “Lady Duponte.” Leopold’s voice, for the �rst time since he was a teenager, cracked as he said

her name. He coughed in a pathetic attempt to cover it. “It’s great to �nally meet you.” “Prince Leopold Dazzle.” She spoke his name slowly, deliberately, and didn’t even turn to face

him. “I expected your father.” “He’s ill.” Leopold shifted his weight uncomfortably. “He sent me in his stead.” Wanda Duponte �nally turned and met Leopold’s eyes. Her eyes were much older than her

body; they were deep, and a dazzling light green, like algae-�lled pools. They were perfect, �awless. She curled her lips into what looked like a smile, but there was no joy in her eyes, no emotion whatsoever.

“Then may the Mother grant him a swift recovery. I’ll pray for him.” “Thank you.” She tilted her head curiously, as if she could read his thoughts, but didn’t speak further. A moment later, the doors opened to a light ding , and Wanda was gone. Leopold noticed he

had been holding his breath. He released it all at once, and noticed Ainsley smirking beside him. “She has that e�ect on most men,” he said snidely. Leopold narrowed his eyes. “Don’t patronize me.” The elevator once again stopped, this time on their �oor. Leopold’s room was obvious—his

two guards stood outside at the ready. He swiped his key and stepped inside. “I’m in the room just across the hall,” Ainsley said from the hall. “If you need anything, just—”

Leopold shut the door in Ainsely’s face. It was a large room with a small kitchenette, the bedroom o� to the side, but nothing remarkable. The TV was already on, loudly playing 24-hour coverage of the Congress through Air’s state-controlled media. Leopold unfastened his jacket and tossed it on the couch, then followed it himself. He turned his attention to the television.

“...criticism of Chancellor Tatyana Cardinale, who has recently announced the Neros Institute’s withdrawal from the Congress and associated negotiations.” The Chancellor of the Mind Faction appeared on the screen in front of a podium.


“We are seeking a resolution that bene�ts all a�ected parties,” she said. “Our history has shown us that the Neros Institute works faster and more e�ectively than the other factions; it is self-evident to us that external in�uences, such as the other factions, would only resolve to tie our hands and slow us down.”

The screen cut back to the anchor. “Presidents Gustough and Hicinopoulus have already denounced the move, which they call, quote, ‘an insulting —’”

Leopold clicked the TV o�. So they had already lost the Mind Faction’s support, before their �rst session. Disappointing, but hardly surprising. Who would miss the pretentious assholes, anyway? He certainly wouldn’t. He had spent two years studying at their Class One Academy, and they had been the two most unbearable years of his life.

Leopold closed his eyes. Maybe he could get in a bit of a nap before the Congress met. But then he heard it—a strange sound, one that he recognized all too well, of moaning, grunting…

Leopold sprung up from his seat and threw open the bedroom door. There, on the king bed, was Lorenzo, shirtless, and some random Stratos girl, each locked into what thankfully didn’t appear to have gone past passionate kissing.

“What the hell is this?” Lorenzo and the girl turned to face him at once. Lorenzo, of course, looked more dazed than

embarrassed by Leopold’s intrusion. His surprise quickly turned to a smile. “Brother!” he cried enthusiastically. “It’s about time you �nally show up here.” “What are you doing in my room?” Leopold asked. “You mean our room?” Lorenzo gestured to the space around him. “It appears as though

Presidents Gustough and Hicopa-whatever-the-fuck could only spare one room in this whole shithole city for the second-and-third most important men in Kingdom Miami.” Leopold nodded his head in the direction of the terri�ed girl, who looked back and forth between him and Lorenzo like they were playing a round of tennis. Lorenzo looked surprised, like he had forgotten she was even there. He laid a hand on her shoulder. “Sorry darling, but it’s probably time you head out.” She didn’t need a further excuse. She jumped from the bed and ran from the room, bumping into Leopold as she went.

“Who was that, then?” Lorenzo shrugged. “Hell if I know.” He grabbed his shirt from the �oor and began buttoning

it up. “I found her by the airport.” Leopold shook his head, undecided between the emotions of disappointment and annoyance.

“This isn’t what father sent us for.” Now �nished with his shirt, Lorenzo lazily started with his tie. “Isn’t what father sent you here

for. In case you’ve forgotten, I haven’t been given a seat at the Congress.” Leopold could hear the sarcastic resentment in that line. It was nothing new for him, though. Lorenzo’s woe is me, I’m second-in-line schtick was something of an inside joke; both Leopold and Lorenzo knew that he didn’t want the responsibility of actually having to govern someday.

“While you’re down there politicking and schmoozing those cows, I’m trapped in this dreadful city. I need to do something to entertain myself.”


“Then entertain yourself with someone from the Congress. God knows we could use the support.”

Lorenzo bit his lip and shrugged. Leopold shut the door on him.

Three hours later, Leopold sat in the Congress Chamber, dressed in his nicest Sin Chadinier suit (with, of course, the classic sunkissed-yellow vest and tie), a glass of water to his right and an empty notebook laid open in front of him. The room had been arranged in a wide circle so that each faction’s delegate would be able to clearly see one another. Each seat was full, spare an obnoxiously empty seat for Mind which, as they had already discussed, would likely remain empty for the remainder of the conference, and another for Decay, who no one had been able to contact. It wasn’t odd for Decay; the faction was a group of only a few hundred who traveled in a nomadic convoy. Keeping track of them was a task that no faction bothered with.

Behind them, �lling the gallery, the delegates’ sta� and some limited media. Directly opposite the room from Leopold sat Water’s representative, Lothan Manolis,

according to his name plaque. Leopold had never heard of the man, but Ainsely had given him a quick brie�ng on all the delegates directly before this meeting. Lothan Manolis, he knew, was a rising senator in the Democratic Republic of Loch, expected by many to be considering a presidential run. And that was why he was here, of course.

“...important for us to come together as a single, united Congress to address the looming crisis, the proportions of which we haven’t yet even begun to determine,” Lothan droned on. Leopold found it di�cult to concentrate on the senator’s words. His arrogant tone and assertive, booming voice was meant to compensate for his general dullness, Leopold �gured, though they were rather unsuccessful at that. Leopold hated the democracies on the continent; in theory they sounded like utopias, but in practice they always seemed to produce these sorts of leaders with unbearably hollow rhetoric. And they, he thought, did little but waste everybody’s time.

Leopold looked around the room. Most of the other delegates, despite their best e�orts, looked just as bored as him. Lothan Manolis had been rambling on this empty point for nearly twenty minutes without pause.

Leopold shot a glance at Ainsley, who was seated on the balcony over the hall. Ainsely caught his gaze immediately. He had advised Leopold before the meeting to keep a low pro�le during this �rst session, to listen and observe, then talk later. This, though, was unbearable. Leopold raised his eyebrows at Ainsley and blinked his eyes slowly.

Ainsely got the message immediately and shook his head with a �rm no . But, at that moment, the senator took a moment to sip from his water, and Leopold was forced to make his decision. He pressed the button and leaned into his mic.

“Mind if I butt in, Senator?” he said softly. The room turned to look at him. Leopold didn’t mind the attention. In fact, he kind of enjoyed it. He didn’t wait for Lothan to answer his question. “I don’t mean to be rude, but the hour is getting late, and I can’t help but notice that we haven’t accomplished anything here, yet, and time is sort of the essence.”


Ainsley facepalmed above him. Leopold suppressed a smile. The other delegates nodded their heads in agreement. Lothan Manolis’s face �ushed in

embarrassment. He shot daggers at Leopold. “What is it that you propose we discuss, then, Prince Dazzle?” He stressed the word, like it was

an insult. And, just like that, Leopold could tell they were already enemies. “Perhaps something relevant,” he said. The room snickered. “Like, for example, the death of

everyone in Saint Paul and the virtual eradication of the Darkness Faction. The reason we’ve all gathered here, I was told, is to come up with a plan for addressing this problem, not to help you collect soundbites for your re-election campaign, Senator.” The room laughed again, this time louder. Leopold was on a roll. “We haven’t laid out a plan to investigate this thing. That’s pretty pathetic, isn’t it? We are, at this moment, proving Tatyanna Cardinale right about our inability to function as a group — ”

“And what is your solution, then, your highness?” Lothan Manolis sneered. “Should we go look at the destruction ourselves? The city could be contaminated. Would you like to be the one to enter �rst?” Leopold shrugged.

“I’d rather not be the first ,” he admitted. “But as far as I understand it, every half-rate, wannabe detective on this continent is currently on their way up to Saint Paul as we speak. Maybe we oughta listen to what some of them have to say, hm? Or, alternatively, we might consider investigating ourselves?” Leopold looked around the room. The delegates, it seemed, had woken up. His eyes stopped when they landed on Wanda Duponte’s. She didn’t change her expression, but Leopold couldn’t help but feel empowered by it. Triumphant, he smirked at the senator and raised his hands defensively. “Just a suggestion, of course.”

Ainsley was upset after the �rst session, but Leopold felt great. Sure, he had made an enemy of the Water delegate, but he had also impressed a decent chunk of the others. Along their short walk back to the hotel, Ainsely made no attempt to disguise his annoyance.

“As soon as this hits the nightly news,” he said, �ustered, “I’m going to be getting a call from your father. He’s going to be furious.”

“Let him be mad,” Leopold sco�ed. “If he’s unhappy with how I’m representing us, he can come out here himself.”

“He’s very ill,” Ainsley replied, and Leopold felt a ping of guilt. “He’s not going to be angry,” Leopold said softly. “I know my father. If you give him the

context, tell him about how that chattering Lochian asshat wouldn’t shut up, he’ll understand. It’s thanks to me that we made any progress at all.”

“I suppose I can’t disagree with that last point,” Ainsley murmured. “But are we really planning to spearhead an investigation?”

“Why not? Sounds easy enough.” Leopold said the words convincingly, but even he knew that it wouldn’t be easy at all. The Congress had agreed upon a hundred-mile exclusion zone around Saint Paul. Hundreds of thousands of people had disappeared there and were presumed dead. There was a


chance that there was radiation, or toxins, or some sort of wielding gone wrong. In all three cases, it was too dangerous to send people in. O�cially, that was.

“Those stupid detective hobbyists,” Leopold continued, “surely one must be of the Light Faction?”

“I don’t know…” Ainsely stuttered. Leopold cut him o�. “Fine. Then send out a memo to the lords and mayors in Tampa, Pensacola, Jacksonville, and

Lux Aeterna. Tell them I’m looking for someone from their o�ce to act as an investigator. On the down-low, of course, so no nobles. Give me some nobody.”

“You’re going to violate the exclusion zone?” “No, some unknown rebel from the kingdom is going to violate the exclusion zone.” They

entered the hotel, then the elevator. Thankfully, no one stopped it this time. They rode to the tenth �oor.

The guards outside Leopold’s door perked up when they entered the hall. “Prince Leopold,” one said, “There was a delivery for you.” Leopold paused. “A delivery? From who?” The guard shifted his weight uncomfortably. He gave the guard next

to him a con�icted look, and that guard shrugged. Leopold cleared his throat with impatience. “It was a…” the guard stuttered, “...a dog, sir. It came up in the elevator and dropped the

package at our feet…” “A dog?” Leopold frowned. “Is that some sort of fucking euphemism?” “No, sir. We’ve already screened...it’s just a �le.” The guard produced a manila folder, and

Leopold snatched it from his hands. It was �rm paper, sealed shut at the top with a patch of wax with the sigil of a tree. He gave Ainsley a funny look.

Ainsely followed Leopold into his room. Leopold tossed him the folder like a discus. Ainsely missed the catch.

“Check that out, would you?” As Ainsley dug through the report, Leopold headed to the kitchenette and poured himself a glass of wine. He had brought the wine with him from Miami, of course—he would never voluntarily touch whatever pathetic swill they drank here. When he came back to the living room, Ainsley had the contents of the �le laid out on the co�ee table before him. “And?” Leopold asked.

“It’s a police report,” Ainsley said. “Sworn statements from two truck drivers —” he squinted his eyes at one of the papers "—a Leonard ‘Larry’ Greenman and Brian Volk.”

Leopold looked over the papers. Each had a Classified watermark in a dark, transparent print overtop, along with the words Distribute at risk of treason. Leopold sipped his drink.

“Where’s it from?” “Chicago. In the Holy Sanctuary of the Mother.” Ainsley gave Leopold a confused face. “Do

you think Wanda Duponte sent this?” “Either her or someone from her sta�.” Ainsley shook his head. “Duponte doesn’t have sta�. She travels alone.” He handed Leopold another paper. On it was a

police sketch, and a rather rudimentary one at that. The girl was undetailed, spare one notable


characteristic. The space around her eyes was sunken, dark. She was obviously from the Decay Faction. At the top of the page were the words: UNIDENTIFIED, AT LARGE.

“Who is this?” he asked. “Those truck drivers saw her standing on the highway outside of Saint Paul,” Ainsley replied. “People from Decay don’t leave Decay.” “This one did.” Ainsley grabbed another paper from the table. “According to all this, those

truckers apparently nearly hit her. When they walked to the nearest suburb for help, they found bodies. Hundreds of them. They rushed down south as fast as possible and got apprehended on the border.”

“So Duponte lied? It wasn’t her trade delegation that found them?” “Apparently not.” Leopold looked back at the picture of the girl again. Why would Duponte have lied about who

discovered the destruction in Darkness? Why would she have classi�ed this report if not to keep this image a secret? No one had been able to locate Decay’s convoy in the last few months, but that wasn’t too odd for them—the faction had historically been nomadic and di�cult to track down. This, though, was suspicious.

“No more of this o�-the-grid bullshit,” Leopold said. “Find Decay.” He took one �nal look at her haunted eyes, then threw the picture back at Ainsley. “And this girl.”

“And what will you do?” “Sleep.” Leopold �nished o� his drink and set the glass on the table. “Then talk to Wanda

Duponte.”


Chapter 7 Ireland — [Redacted] When morning arrived, there were dark circles under Ireland’s eyes. Even though she was not

one to wear makeup, she put concealer under her eyes to cover them up. It would not do to look tired on her �rst day training with Maxim, or in front of other government o�cials. She would give them absolutely nothing to question her loyalty or commitment to this program.

The walk to the center city government complex was brisk in the early morning air, the sun having just started to rise from behind the tall pines and stone buildings. She bounded up the steps and through the heavy double doors into the main atrium of the stone complex. The only other person there—almost twenty minutes before reporting time—was Maxim. She wasn’t thrilled that he would be her handler. But she was intrigued by him. He had been stationed in the Nox Republic, a historically reclusive faction. And with the current events it would be essential to understand the faction. It maintained small amounts of contact with the other factions, but for the most part, they kept to themselves.

She had to get along with Maxim. They had to excel over the other teams. “Are you ready to begin training this morning?” Maxim broke the silence �rst, voice precise

and clipped with formality. “Of course. I expect both of us to retain or gain a top position prior to our �rst mission,” she

responded. The hostility wasn’t completely gone, but she was trying to be civil. It wasn’t his fault, and she was trying not to hold it against him, but it still made something burn deep inside her chest that she hadn’t been paired with the best of the best — the handler she deserved. She had expected to be paired with Cal Treadmont. Before the rest of the spies and handlers could arrive, her instructor and an unfamiliar woman came up to meet them.

“Mr. Petrovsky, Ms. Glass, we have an urgent assignment for you to take. Please follow us to a secure location for debrie�ng.”

With startled glances, the two followed. Ireland wasn’t sure what was going to happen. Had they decided to pull her from the program after all? Was Maxim going to be hurt by her, too? Her stomach was in knots, and she fought to keep her face neutral. She tried to catch the eye of her instructor, but he studiously looked straight ahead.

The four walked briskly down the corridor, footsteps echoing on the stone around them. It didn’t take long before they were guided into a small conference room that housed a heavy oak table with six chairs and a small projector and screen. Ireland’s instructor pulled out a tiny black �ash drive and plugged it in, and images of people she had never seen before started coming up on the screen.

“While we usually run simulation exercises before letting a new team out into the �eld, there is simply no time to do so. We need a new spy, one we can guarantee has no tails, no pictures circulating, and strong wielding abilities,” the woman said, “and that is you, Ireland. You have been selected to in�ltrate the Congress as you see �t. You need to collect as much information on the people there and on the circumstances around the Congress as you can.”


“I —” Ireland began, but the woman clearly wasn’t �nished speaking. “NEST-F believes that the mastermind behind the attack in Saint Paul may be seeking out a

valuable Pyre Auxilifact. We’ve reassigned our agents meant for the Congress to join that search. That means you will go to the Congress in their stead and investigate whether anyone there might be involved.”

Ireland was shocked. The �rst mission out and it’s a real one? Not to mention that it was incredibly important to her faction. She looked at Maxim and could tell his feelings through his stoic and emotionless look. His eyes were just as surprised as she felt. They either had supreme con�dence in her abilities or were hoping she would be found and imprisoned for life for in�ltrating the Congress. She wasn’t sure which one she believed.

“Please study these �les. You, Ireland, will leave tomorrow morning. Maxim will be your primary contact and will report directly to the Chancellor. I suggest you begin.” The woman left the room, but her instructor stayed behind for just a moment longer.

“You must not fail. This impacts everyone, not just our faction,” he said sternly to them both. He swept out of the room without a backwards glance.

Maxim glanced at Ireland before moving to the projector and �ipping through the slides. The faces and names beneath scrolled by quickly.

“There’s a lot we need to study. Would you like for me to print them out so we can categorize them?” he asked.

Ireland hardly knew what to say. She settled with, “Sure, that sounds helpful.” A few minutes later they had a massive stack of paper in front of them. Ireland began with

pictures of those attending the conference while Maxim noted background information. It was silent between the two, and Ireland felt like she needed to break the tension— after all, this was the �rst and last day they had to work together before she left for Oklahoma City.

“Find anything interesting?” she asked. “Very. The Congress hasn’t even begun investigating why Darkness has disappeared. Just like

the Chancellor said. All tied up in useless negotiations and bureaucratic nonsense. But even so, it confuses me that we didn’t send a representative. It’d be much easier to listen in on the conversations with an o�cial role despite the red tape.”

“You know we take an isolationist point on all things, especially for dangerous or unknown situations,” Ireland replied.

“Fair point. I suppose it is also logical that we could gather more unbiased information if none of the other factions know we’re there and looking for it.”

“Exactly. I need a quick break. I’m going to grab a co�ee from the kitchen downstairs. Would you like one?”

“That would be nice, thank you,” he said, inclining his head towards her. “Want any cream or sugar?” “Yeah, if you put in some sugar that’d be appreciated.” “Sure, anything else?”


“No thanks. I’m going to separate the information we have by faction to make studying easier.” Ireland nodded. She got up from the large conference table strewn with papers and made her

way back out into the hallway. Wanting to stretch her legs a bit after hours of sitting, she took the long way downstairs, meandering between corridors and hallways at random. Finally, she made her way down the stairs and emerged near the kitchen, where she heard two hushed voices talking. Training, or maybe curiosity, got the better of her, and she paused outside the doorway.

“I think you’re making a terrible choice sending her to the Congress. Who knows what she’ll �nd, both on the disappearances and her —”

“Do not speak of that. She will not �nd any incriminating information about that event.” “How can you be sure? She is exceptional at what she does, far better than her mother, and we

all know how great she was.” “This is true, but I assure you those �les were destroyed.” “Files can be destroyed, but information can’t be, especially in NEST-F. If there is any

evidence, she’ll �nd it, and I don’t want more blood on my hands.” That was the voice of her instructor, and his footsteps were getting closer and closer. Ireland quickly slipped around the nearest corner and paused. His steps went down a di�erent way, but high heels were approaching. She backed up further down the hallway silently, paused, and started walking towards the kitchen once more just as the sound of the footsteps reached the corner.

It was the woman from earlier. She stopped, seemingly surprised to see Ireland. “Hello Ms. Glass. I thought you were studying upstairs?” she questioned. Ireland felt silver

tendrils slip into her mind, searching. Mind reading. But she had masked her true thoughts already. The woman would �nd nothing there.

“Yes ma’am, Maxim and I are making progress. I just came down for some co�ee to re-energize us.”

The woman looked suspicious, but nodded her agreement. “Very well. Let me know if you require anything else.” She strode away down the corridor.

Ireland made her way into the kitchen and mindlessly searched for co�ee mugs in the cabinets. Her instructor and this woman knew much more than they were letting on. What secrets were they hiding from her? And how was she better than her mother? She had not been a spy; she had worked a desk job for her whole life! What evidence were they discussing, and how was that relevant to her or the case or anything at all, really? There had to be something she was missing, some clue she was overlooking, but she was too overwhelmed to process what it could be. The most concerning question was who had her instructor killed, and why?

She �lled up the mugs from the full pot of co�ee and carried them upstairs to the safety of the conference room, grabbing a few sugar cubes with her. The hushed whispers of the conversation she just heard were circulating through her mind, and she nearly spilled the burning hot liquid as she climbed up the stairs. It was clear to her that this mission, this Congress, was holding more secrets and more danger than she had initially thought, and her mind was frying trying to solve the mystery. She hated the unknown.


She slipped back into the conference room and set the mugs down on the table before locking the door.

“Thank you Ireland. I’ve started categorizing the information based on origin and pairing it with images of Congress attendees from the factions to make studying easier.”

“That’s a good plan,” she said, settling down into a chair across from him. She sat looking at the pages in front of her, but barely registered the information before her eyes. Did Maxim know what they were talking about? How could she bring it up to him?

“Is everything all right?” he interrupted her thoughts. She hesitated to answer. If he was working for the woman, she would reveal her knowledge, but

if he wasn’t, she needed him to watch her back for her while she was gone. She glanced up at him, and saw him looking at her with concern and confusion.

“Ireland?” “What do you know about that woman?” He looked confused by her abrupt change in topic, but answered nonetheless. “I don’t know much about her. She placed all of us and met us when we �rst got our handler

paperwork and desk positions, but other than that we haven’t interacted with her much. They call her the Che�n. Why?”

Ireland debated internally; Could she trust him? He was her handler. She had to trust him. “I just didn’t understand the suddenness of our assignment, and I don’t like someone

springing up out of nowhere.” “I understand, you’ll have to get used to it though. After a while surprises are more like

breathing for us,” he said. He seemed genuine to Ireland, but clearly something was shaky with him. His smile was tainted by regret. Not surprising for someone so notorious for his failure. She debated on what she should share with him. He might be linked to the rest of this whole conspiracy, but then again so far every reaction she’s seen of Maxim pointed otherwise. She needed to take a gamble.

She channeled her powers for a second and sent a small push to Maxim. Don’t panic. Maxim’s eyes widened for a second. Ireland knew this would be a risky move. The social

condemnation from communicating this way would’ve been expulsion from the program and jail time. Maxim couldn’t help but frown from her actions, but he didn’t say anything. Ireland could tell he was mulling over her actions.

My parents might have betrayed our faction. I don’t know how or even why, but I’ve been put under watch.

Maxim looked down at the papers. He took a sip of his co�ee. Ireland could tell he was confused, but at least his training seemed to restrain him from communicating it. He looked back up to Ireland and gave a small nod.

We may be in trouble, and it may be my fault. You have to swear to not tell a single person about this, do you understand? We will both be killed if anyone finds out. Promise me. Promise you will not tell anyone.


Maxim nodded again. Ireland launched into her story, telling him the events of the past two days and the

conversations she had, though she didn’t tell him her instructor came to visit her to pass along the information. She would hold o� on playing that card until she was certain of his loyalties.

“Well, it looks like we’ll be burning the midnight oil looking over this,” Maxim said, interjecting into the mental conversation.

“Yeah, I can get some more co�ee.” “Yeah if you don’t mind getting another cup.” “Of course, Maxim you okay?” “Well,” he said as she �nished, “it does sound like we are on thin ice. This is a major assignment

with a lot of lives riding on it. I will search for documents here in the Institution while you go to the Congress. That way we �nd out everything about the massacre of Darkness, and pass that along, and whatever other secrets we uncover we can keep between us or pass along as we see �t.”

“As long as both of us agree that it needs to be passed on,” Ireland amended. He nodded his head in agreement. “As long as both of us agree.” They shook on it, and continued studying the paperwork late into the night.


Chapter 8 Ashton — I am the Greatest

Sixteen Years Ago A small hill cast a large shadow twenty-one miles outside of Lux Aeterna, Kingdom Miami. A

boy the age of eight struggled to pull a bucket of stones up the hill. Every step he took was labored with an intense breath. The stones only gained more weight as he stepped up the hill. The sun and the distant Beacon burned his back as he climbed. Sweat fell o� his forehead as thick as raindrops. The stones seemed to press as heavily against his mind as they did on his back. Then he could see the top of the hill. Then he could breathe. Then he could rest.

The view from the top of the hill showed a shoddy farmhouse far below. The farm had seen better days. Fencing lay in ruins since the last storm, and the few cows left on the farm were skinny and malnourished. Only a small patch of crops in the far corner of the second plot seemed to be brought up correctly; the rest were dry and withered. They had been planted too late in the season. The house was large enough for a family of four, but only two people lived there. The windows were covered in grime and cobwebs. The door hung by a rusty hinge and haphazardly placed nails. A sunken awning hung over the porch on the front of the house. A strong smell of animal feces pervaded the entire place. This was his home. A crummy, collapsing, and rather pitiful little place ready to keel over any second, held up by sheer willpower. His willpower.

The boy had brought back stones to �x holes in the silo. It had gotten damaged in the last storm. Since then, wild animals had been gnawing on the little grain he had stored there, and whatever was left had started to rot and mold. He couldn’t a�ord to have it �xed, which meant he had to do it himself. And the only stones suitable for the job were in a quarry about ten miles away from his farm. He had set out before dawn, hoping to get back before three. But it had taken him longer than he had expected, and now it was past �ve. He cursed at himself for taking so long. There wasn’t much he could do to change the time, but at least he still had some time left before sundown.

Going down the hill was much easier than going up, but he was already behind schedule. He still needed to create the proper cement for the silo to connect the stones, and then round the animals back into the barn. It had been a tough year for them, too. Coyotes. They had already su�ered big casualties, especially the calves. He couldn’t bear to lose more before the breeding season.

Finally, he reached the bottom of the hill. From there he quickly set o� to work on the silo. He created the cement needed with supplies he had picked up from the nearby town. It was tedious, but it was necessary work. It took hours, and by the time he’d �nished, his muscles were sore and his legs were shaky. The sun had long since started its journey to the far side of the horizon. He rounded the animals back into the barn. All the while a �gure laid back on the porch. Smoke came from this man. He didn’t move in all that time, except to lift his cigarette or to pick up the bottle close by. His eyes were older than his body.


The boy ran o� to �nish one last task. Now, the sun had vanished from the sky, leaving only the faint glow of the Beacon so far o� in the distance. The boy looked to the Beacon with pure admiration. It had been a reminder of what lay ahead of him. A glow of power. A glow of possibility. But that was for a later time. The present was a time for dinner—it was actually one part of his day that he looked forward to. But just one more task.

He approached the one segment of crops that seemed to be doing well. Oh, what he wouldn’t do to be a Life Mage. Then his farm would be thriving with a simple �ick of his wrist. But he had found a di�erent solution to his problem. Walking close to the crops, he let his instincts take over. He was performing magic. It was one of the pleasures in life he had been given due to his parents. One of the few things he could thank them for.

It was a feeling of intense con�ict. On one side, pure chaotic energy attempted to rip itself outside of his body; on the other, a calming glow wanted to return deep within him. He felt warmth in his �nger as it glowed. He had spent weeks trying to simply master his one �nger, which was far from master wielding, but was something he’d taught himself, without training or mentoring, his only guide a rented library book. The rest of his body chilled, but he could bear it. The crops needed it more than he did. The last time he was in Lux Aeterna, he’d gone into a �ower shop, and the owner had shown him how to blend green light and blue light to feed the plants; all the while he had to control the energy that �owed inside him.

It was an hour long activity, every day. It was both exhausting and rewarding. Every night he felt his body grow stronger, taking the energy in a more natural direction and not struggling as it channeled into his �nger. His focus was pointed, concentration absolute, and he forgot about his sore muscles and the collapsing farm. About his father. And an hour later, when he stopped, he could swear that the plants were smiling at him. He headed back toward the house. Another meal of dried oats awaited him.

As he approached the porch, the man seemed to �nally step out of his trance-like state. “Oh my boy, you nearly scared me to death. What are you doing out here all alone?” he said,

peering at the boy. The boy paused, wondering if it was even worth his time to respond to the old fool. He once called the old man his father, but clearly the man before him wasn’t much more than a container of alcohol and despair. After a pause, the boy �nally responded.

“I’m running the farm like usual. Did you want to eat dinner with me?” It was a half-hearted question. He knew how the old man would answer.

“Oh Ashton,” the man said, his words slurring. Ashton was surprised. Usually his father couldn’t even remember his name. He seemed to prefer ‘boy’ over his actual name, maybe because it didn’t force him to dig through his memories.

Ashton’s full name was Ashton Illuminate. The last part really didn’t matter too much since it wasn’t one of the distinguished royal family names. Ashton rarely used it even as a child.

“I’ll pass on dinner tonight,” his father said. “I’ve already gotten plenty to drink.” He pointed to his half-drunk bottle. “I’ll wait here a little longer for your mother to return from the grocery store.


She promised to make some apple pie, and I’d rather keep my appetite.” He smiled blissfully at the thought. Ashton didn’t smile.

Ashton’s mother had been at the grocery store for 3 years now. He knew she would never come back, but his father could never quite get that idea. Instead, he stood on the porch every day, only ever leaving to get food or pick up more beer and smokes. His smile seemed glued on and fake.

“Ok. Have a good night.” He walked past the old man. He had a few memories of times when his father was happier.

When his mother was around it seemed like everyone was happier. The crops grew lusher, the house was clean, the animals healthy. They were all together.

Eating his oats, Ashton thought of his future. The Beacon’s glow seemed to penetrate the walls of his own home. He wanted to know that feeling of power. The light inside him wanted to match the glow of the Beacon. To be bold and state that he was to be seen by all. But he knew the reality of his situation. The son of a poor farmer who was slowly wasting away with time. He needed to leave this place. To �nd a school. He wasn’t sure of what he wanted yet. Just something else.

The opportunity �nally arose one morning when he awoke to the sound of pounding on his front door.

It was the police. A voice rang, demanding that someone open the door. He heard his father’s name, but the old man wouldn't be conscious for hours. So Ashton opened the door. The police o�cer, clearly tired and irritated, looked down at the boy. He spoke in a harsh tone.

“Boy, where is your father?” “He’s asleep, sir,” Ashton replied. “He worked himself last night to death trying to repair the

silo.” Ashton didn’t know why the o�cers were here, and he didn’t want his father arrested. Being an alcoholic wasn’t illegal, but his father’s drunken mouth had gotten him in trouble more than once. As much as he disliked his old man, he still needed him if he was going to use the farm.

The o�cer warmed his tone. “Then you must be Ashton, right?” Ashton nodded in con�rmation. “Yes Ashton, I need you to wake your father. It's an urgent matter.”

Ashton considered it for a moment. He couldn’t very well deny o�cers entry to his house or else arouse more suspicion.

So he woke his old man up. It took him a few minutes. His father had clearly drunk more than that bottle from last night. There was a large stain on his shirt, and his �gure was still looking ill. The old man approached the o�cers with fear and suspicion. Every step he took seemed to push him closer to the ground. To take the air he reserved from his drunken stupor ever shallower. Ashton felt nerves in his chest. He prayed his father just acted normal.

“What can I do for you, o�cers?” he said with what seemed to be the last of his air. “Sir, it's a matter of your wife…” the o�cer began to tell the tale of the old man’s wife and

Ashton’s mother. Later that night, Ashton didn’t remember all the points clearly. The missing person

investigation had been retired two years ago, but there was a break in the case. And they had found her. She was apparently a con artist, travelling the continent in search of easy marks. His father had


apparently been one of those marks. After his savings had dried up, she moved on to �nd more prey. Her latest target had been a Darkness faction member. How she could ever stoop so low was beyond Ashton’s imagination. The very enemy of Light.. But she had married this Darkness man, and apparently was very happy. As the cops described it, it seemed that her new life was even brighter than her last. Ashton’s rage continued to grow with every word. Finally, the o�cers explained why they had come.

She had died. Apparently there was an accident where she met her untimely fate. A magic explosion intended

for her Darkness husband. The factionalism against the Darkness had always been extremely high in the Light faction. The two simply shouldn’t mix, or at least that was the opinion of most people, despite King Dazzle’s countless attempts to improve relations with their historical enemy. The culmination of that e�ort was the promise of his son to a Darkness actress, a royal wedding of sorts. Ashton doubted whether that would do much to ease hostilities.

Ashton’s rage was not quieted. He didn’t know how to feel. It was his mother, but then again, she had left him. These feelings were instead crumpled. Forced into the recesses of his mind. A silent weight that would press on him for a long time. By the end however, there was a small relief. An opportunity that peered forth through the wall of blackness.

His mother had gained a rather fortunate sum of money. A sum she had left to her husband, which was left unclaimed by the Darkness husband who �ed the Kingdom of Light.

His father seemed absent during this entire conversation. A man who had already been slowly hollowed out over the last few years. The only hope he had was that one day, she would climb on the hill where they shared their �rst kiss. His eyes, however, were grey. A man who had died inside. The light that seemed to bless the Light faction had left him. He nodded the entire time but the words were falling on deaf ears.

“I’m so sorry for your loss, sir. We recommend you hire a lawyer to help with the paperwork for the inheritance. Understand that this is a timely matter, so please come to the court by next Friday and we’ll settle it.” The o�cer left behind some documents, then was gone.

The old man looked to his son. Ashton knew what his father wanted to say. That he had seen his son taking care of the farm for the last few years, but every time he looked at him he saw her. He saw her smile. The smile full of lies. The smile of a goddess. Or, more likely, the smile of a devil. He couldn’t bear it any longer. He wanted a drink. He wanted to sink into the earth. He wanted to feel the glow of the Beacon on his face, but found nothing. He tossed the papers aside and went to the porch. He seemed to move without touching the ground. He sat on the chair gazing at the hill. A line of water fell from the grey eyes.

Ashton picked up the papers from the ground. He looked at the document, carefully reading every line. He didn’t know everything he was reading, but he was able to decipher enough. There was money on the table. All that was left was to be fast enough to grab it for his own usage. He could go to school.

The light was growing brighter. His light was growing brighter.


While his father’s last light su�ocated and died, Ashton’s grew in resolve. He could be the greatest.

Present Day

After years of education, pain, and endurance, Ashton found himself in Lux Aeterna. It was an ancient city that had seen many important events for Kingdom Miami, and it was an important stronghold during the siege. But its relevance was fading. A dying place. Perfect for Ashton.

At the age of 24, Ashton was diligent in his work. He lived in a luxury studio apartment in the plaza of Lux Aeterna, furnished with leather furniture and white-marble countertops and �oor-to-ceiling tinted windows, a far cry from the un�nished wood of his childhood home.

His landlord looked shocked to see such a young man purchase an apartment of this quality in the midst of a housing crisis. Ashton put his �rst payment down with a look of contentment. Life was �nally starting to pay its dividends.

He had pursued a career in politics. For a non-noble in the kingdom of Light, the most prominent position he could pursue would be that of an advisor. An advisor didn’t need to be of noble blood, and had great job security: life terms.

The major di�culty was �nding the proper connections to become a high ranking advisor. This was where Ashton had hit a roadblock. He was able to �nd a position advising the local mayor, Joseph Luminous (Lord Luminous’s youngest son), of the city of Lux Aeterna. It was a starting point.

Beyond its universities and sports teams, Lux Aeterna was a dying city. It had been Kingdom Miami’s steel and oil hub during the Warring Times, but the Peace Accords had brought peace to the continent, and peace had brought bilateral trade agreements. Now, most of Kingdom Miami’s raw goods came from the Moh Republic, and Lux Aeterna was withering away. Ashton wanted more.

The Kingdom was divided into �efs, led by a Lord, who had ultimate say over the city and region, second in authority only to King Dazzle. That lordship, unfortunately, was inherited, not earned.

Ashton �nally got out of his shower. He’d pondered too long. He had responsibilities to attend to, and he had to make sure he reported his documents to the Mayor. He walked the busy streets of the town. The air was light and sweet, and a soft early-summer breeze carried the scent of blooming daisies from outside the city. Everything seemed normal. Children walked with their parents. Crews were already moving in infrastructure for the upcoming summer festivals.

As he approached his building, he had to pause. There was something o�. Too many people were coming and going. Too much was happening for this town. The vibe was...uncomfortable.

Ashton walked into the Mayor Luminous’s o�ce. The man was sweating profusely. A deep frown pulled across his sagging face. His eyes were �xed on a document. Then he looked up.

“Oh hello, Ashton. I’m glad you’re here.” His frown lightened slightly. Ashton eyed the mayor inquisitively.


“What’s going on?” He �gured the mayor would appreciate it if they skipped the formalities. “It appears that the entirety of city hall is in a ruckus. I haven’t seen it like this..” “New travel guidelines from the capital today,” the mayor said. “Mandatory quarantine for

anyone coming back into Kingdom Miami. They’re afraid the thing in Darkness might have been a bioweapon.” Ashton said nothing, and the mayor sighed. “In my many years it's frankly terrifying to think what could be happening. These are truly unprecedented times. It’s like every week we get a new piece of news from the capital and all the progress we’ve made toward stabilizing things is reset. I was no friend of the Darkness folks, but...”

Ashton knew the mayor had served defending the light kingdom against the coalition as a common soldier. His wall was lined with medals and war decorations. Ashton thought for a moment. To him, the Darkness faction’s sudden disappearance may have been a blessing in disguise. Light and Darkness were eternal enemies. Before the Peace Accords, they had been at war for hundreds of years. Perhaps Light had �nally won..

“I have other news,” the mayor said. He lowered his voice. “News from the Congress.” “What is it?” Ashton asked. “Close the door,” the Mayor said with breath short, his eyes creased with worry. Ashton did,

and the mayor continued. “This stays between me and you. Ainsley Flicker sent out a memo this morning. They’re looking for someone to go up to Nox. Uno�cially, of course.” The Mayor handed him the report.

Ashton thought to himself. He was both appalled and scared, but that Light within seemed to be found once more. Since the beginning, he had seen this massacre in Nox as a powerful shift in interfactional diplomacy. The world he knew was changing, and with that change it was possible he could �nd some new rung to climb.

He scanned through the report. This investigative team was important. They could �nd the answers to the attack. If they solved the puzzle, �gured out who was behind this whole thing, it would be an instant spotlight. He wasn’t a fool—the factions had agreed they wouldn’t send anyone into Nox until a consensus in the Congress was reached, and that’s why this was being o�ered to him rather than a noble. If he got caught, he was done. Kingdom Miami would deny everything.

If Ashton was going to roll the dice on his fate, it wouldn’t be like this. He would go all in. “Ashton. Ashton! Young man, I need you to listen,” the Mayor said in an aggravated tone.

Ashton turned his head to acknowledge the Mayor. “I’m o�ering you this position because I trust you,” he continued. “You’re the most loyal, diligent aid to pass through this o�ce. Either that, or the best NEST-F agent on the planet. Either way, you deserve this.”

“Mayor, I think we need more time to process this, or at least I do,” he said quietly. The mayor nodded. “Of course, Ashton. I can understand you being overwhelmed. Take the

rest of the day o�. We’ll discuss the rest of the festival when we’re both in better spirits.” Ashton Illuminate walked out of the mayor’s o�ce, still thinking to himself. The festival was

the least of his worries. He needed to know what was happening in the grand scheme, but he would never �gure it out from the mayor’s o�ce. Ashton began his drive home.


His phone buzzed in his pocket. A call from an unknown number. Ashton put the phone on speaker. “Hey Ashton, been a long time. It’s Hayden Flash!” Ashton recalled his time at college. This “friend” was a pompous oaf by the name of Hayden

Flash. He came from a wealthy family who owned a chain of restaurants, and had a line of strong light wielding in his family. Hayden had been blessed with this same gift. An aptitude for light magic and a clear line of success, both of which were enviable. The two had met during a college party. Hayden had approached Ashton and said, “Hey what’s up? You and me, we’re gonna be friends. I know you’re one of the smartest guys on campus. So let’s get along.” He drank a lot that night and Ashton somehow had to take him home. That was the extent of their friendship.

“How’s it going Flash? It’s been ages. Still in the restaurant business?” “No man, I left the family business to become an advisor, and not to showboat, but believe me

when I say they’re powerful people. But hey I heard you also became an advisor to a prince.” His voice was dredged in pride.

“No, actually I’m an advisor to the mayor of Lux Aeterna,” Ashton responded. He knew how lame that sounded. It bothered him.

“Really, I swore it was a prince. After all that work you did in college...” Hayden clicked his tongue. “Well in any case I was wondering if you wanted to meet up for some co�ee? I’m close to Lux Aeterna.”

“What about?” “Let’s just say I might be able to get you promoted.” Arrogant prick . But Ashton had learned that you never snubbed an opportunity. Never. “When and where, Hayden?” “I was thinking an hour. At the Lightbucks on Boucke Stroll. See you then.” He hung up. Ashton rerouted his GPA. Even at this hour, the tra�c held him back. It took the full hour to

get to Boucke Stroll. When he got into the cafe, he found Hayden sitting there. Hayden could be described as an average jock in many ways. Blond hair, toned, blue eyes, and

today he decided to wear a rather expensive brand of suits. Ashton was, by comparison, lean with black hair, and wearing a modest suit. The two sat together and talked over what their lives had been like for the past few years. Ashton begrudgingly continued to talk, hoping that Hayden would �nally get to the point. Finally, after an hour of small talk, Hayden seemed to do so.

“So I’m sure, considering your position, that you know a bit more about what’s going on than the average bear,” Hayden said.

“If you’re talking about the Congress, then yes I’ve been privy to that.” It felt like a lie to Ashton, but it was at least half-true. He had gotten some inside information this morning. That was something. Hayden paused, seeming to contemplate what he wanted to reveal next, and then began again.


“You see, Ashton, I recall you being one of the smartest people in college. Constant academic accolades, and overall a clever man. I know that you’ve heard of the investigative team they plan to send up there.”.

“Yes, I know of it, and I hope they �nd out what happened to cause such a tragedy. Thank you for your compliments. Truly you glamorize my life too much.” He had always considered himself to be smarter than Hayden, and it seemed Hayden had swallowed his pride to say that.

“It’s true though, you are a smart guy. So as a smart guy I have a proposition for you. I want you to go to the darkness faction with me. I want a private investigation.”

Ashton was a little more than shocked. He wondered whether Hayden had gotten the same memo from Ainsley Flicker. “Has the government asked for a private investigation?” he asked, feigning ignorance. Hayden shook his head.

“No, King Dazzle and his administration of assholes are sticking to the agreement. But some people think Kingdom Miami could be doing more. Should be doing more.”

If Hayden was blu�ng, he deserved an Oscar. Two advisors going to the Darkness Faction could cause more chaos than needed.

“You realize that the Congress has established an exclusion zone around Saint Paul? Pyre guys. They’ll either burn us to crisps or arrest us. Maybe both. Not necessarily in that order,” Ashton responded in a concerned tone.

“Not if we’re careful. All we need is a guide. A careful way to get through undisturbed so that we can �gure out what’s going on.”

“I’ve got to ask why.” “You know after all we’ve been through. We’re still looked down upon by them. We don’t have

the power of those pompous idiots, and I’m tired of it. The investigation might �nally raise us to the next stage of political power where we’re respected. I know it's risky, but how else can we rise? I remember in school seeing you. You hungered. You knew that our backgrounds limited us. You never told me everything, but it was obvious you weren’t of noble birth. I’m not sure what we’ll �nd, but depending on what we �nd it could change everything. We could go higher than anyone without noble blood has ever risen before. So I ask you again, will you join me?” Hayden ended with a look of pure determination.

Ashton was taken aback; he had never seen this side of Hayden before. He always thought Hayden was closer to one of the nobles than the common people. Hayden’s words rattled in Ashton’s mind for a while until �nally he spoke.

“Okay, you’ve convinced me.” Hayden smiled. “Excellent.” He removed a notepad from his jacket pocket and scratched

something o� on it. “There’s just one �nal thing we need to do. If we’re going to the land of the Darkness, we’ll need someone to guide us. Someone with inside knowledge of the faction. A Darkness Mage.”

Ashton frowned. “I thought all of them were dead.” Hayden shook his head. “Not all of them. That’s why I’m in Lux Aeterna.”


Chapter 9 Chenxue — When Your Crush Tries to Rob You Xialing quietly opened the door to the house. Dad still wasn’t home. She climbed the steep

stairs up to the landing and dropped her bags. “Lingling, is that you?” a weak voice called from behind a door down the hallway.

“It’s me, Ma.” The kitchen lights buzzed as they came to life. Xialing grabbed a tea tray from the cupboard before making her way over to the room. She backed through the open doorway. “Heard it was even worse today.”

“He likes to exaggerate. I’m really �—” Her mother’s response was cut o� by a cascade of coughs. Xialing sat down next to the warm glow of the bedside lamp and began pouring out the tea. “Don’t worry about me. How was work?”

Xialing absently stroked the side of her mug. “Same old. S’bout time for your medicine, right?” “It’s hard, I imagine.” “Work is work.” Xialing pulled out the dresser drawer and withdrew a small bottle of pills.

After a gentle shake, a single pill dropped into her hand. Xialing frowned. She shook it again, tipping it at a steeper and steeper angle, and a second pill pathetically tumbled out. Putting the empty bottle back in the dresser drawer, she turned around and handed the pills to her mother. “Don’t worry. I’ll get more.”

“With all the money you’re making at your new job, right?” The nighttime cicadas took it upon themselves to �ll the silence. Xialing didn’t look up from

her mug. Her mother gently grasped Xialing’s hand. “Your dad and I have been talking. Money like that

doesn’t come from the sky. What exactly are you doing at this job?” “I told you, it’s just contract work, odds and ends—” “What did you do today?” “I delivered some packages—that’s all, really!” Xialing stood up from her chair. “It gets me

enough money for the medicine, and if I keep at it, we’ll have enough to cure this, so does it really matter what I’m doing? No one’s getting hurt.”

“You mean no one you know .” Her mother’s expression softened. “Don’t get wrapped up in any shady business. They always make it seem so easy to get out, but believe me, it never is.”

“I’d never do anything to make you worry.” Xialing was already out the door. She had barely made it to her room when her phone buzzed. It was a text.

Need to talk to you. Meet me by Daniel’s.


Xialing tugged at the edges of her grey jacket, pulling it closer around her. Fresno got surprisingly nippy at night, especially here in the valley. The cold night wind bit her ears from behind her mask as she neared the alley behind Daniel’s diner. “Alright. I’m here.”

“I see you remembered the mask this time.” A man emerged from the shadows, turning o� his phone and stowing it away in his pocket. On his face was an intricate wooden mask resembling a snake’s face. “You did some good work earlier today. Blasted that guy to kingdom come.”

Xialing winced. “Just knocked him out. I thought we were a stealthier out�t than that.” “We are. But sometimes, when things go pear-shaped, you’ve got no choice but to—” The man

ground his �st into his hand. “—get a little rough. I thought I should share with you the details of the sale. I just got back from my buyer, and I tell you, they run a hard bargain. I had to …”

His words slowly sank into the background as Xialing stared at the re�ection of the neon lights in the puddles on the ground. Xialing had worked with him for several months now. He was only ever known as “Viper,” and he always wore the same mask during their meetings. Every member of his crew was required to reveal their face and name to him to show their ‘loyalty’. All it really meant was that Viper had an easier time blackmailing and threatening them. But Xialing always got her share of the pro�ts, and that was enough to keep him in her good graces.

“Hey! You listening?” Xialing snapped out of her trance. “Yeah. Sorry, long night.” “I’m sure,” Viper replied. “Anyways, are you ready for tomorrow’s gig? This is a lucrative score.

I need you in top form.” “Yeah, I’m good,” Xialing said, partially to herself. Viper’s eyes widened. “You’re not getting cold feet on me, are you?” There was an

unmistakable edge to his voice. “No, of course not,” Xialing said, looking into Viper’s eyes directly. “Good.” Viper backed away and gave Xialing a good-natured punch on the shoulder. “Things

are looking up for us. Have you ever heard of the Batteries?” Xialing let her heart rate slowly come back to normal. “Batteries? Like in the stories?” “The very same. The government’s out looking for them.” Xialing’s eyes widened. “But … they’re not real, right? It’s just some tales spun up to explain

the existence of magic.” “Doesn’t really matter to me. All I know is that the government’s paying top dollar to anybody

who can �nd our faction’s Battery. Must be really desperate.” “… How much?” “Well, I can’t exactly tell you how much the government o�ered us, but if you were to �nd it

and bring it to us, you’d be looking at one-hundred grand, easy.” Xialing froze mid-breath. “Are you serious?” “I’m always serious when it comes to money.”


Xialing considered the numbers in her head. It would be more than enough to cure her mother’s illness, maybe even enough for them to move to a better place. Her father wouldn’t have to work at the factory anymore.

“Why are you telling me this?” Xialing asked. Viper’s back was already turned. “You need the money for your mom, right?” Xialing nodded silently. Viper was one of the few people outside her family who knew of her

situation. Viper looked back with a kind smile on his face. “I’m doing you a favor here, keep that in mind.

We’ll talk later if you’re still interested.” With that, Viper walked down into the alley, melting into the shadows once more.

Chenxue adjusted the cu� of his gloves as he considered his cards. “Getting nervous?” Mika taunted from the seat next to him. Her chin rested on the edge of the

poker table as she glanced at her cards. It was a lunch break game, and everyone was fanning themselves in the sunny midday heat.

“I’m always nervous,” Chenxue replied. Gustav �dgeted with his chips. “Can you tell if she is blu�ng?” he said to Chenxue in a thick

accent. “I can always tell when she’s blu�ng.” “Do you mind telling me, then?” “Please, Gustav. Have some dignity.” Gustav sighed. “I fold.” Chenxue sighed dramatically. “Let’s start with what we know. We have jack of clubs, jack of

diamonds, 2 of clubs, 5 of hearts. With a maximum of two cards sharing a suit, she can’t be building to a �ush. The cards on the table are too far apart to build a straight. One pair? Two pairs? Unlikely. Mika’s been betting high all game, and she can’t stop giggling, so I highly doubt that she’s blu�ng. She’ll have three of a kind, probably higher. Two jacks, for four of a kind?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He took a stack of �ve chips and pushed them forward. “Call.” “Raise by 100.” Mika pushed more of her chips forward. “I’ll see you,” Chenxue said after a sip of his soda. He pushed the chips forward and leaned

back in his chair, arms folded. Klaus reached across the table and �ipped over the �fth card onto the line in the middle. “And

the river. Jack of spades.” Mika triumphantly put her cards face-up on the table. Ace of hearts and ace of clubs. “Full

house, read ‘em and weep!” “Alas.” Chenxue �ipped his cards over. Jack of hearts and 7 of diamonds, looked solemnly at

the ceiling. “Four of a kind.”


The room erupted in cheers as Klaus gently shook Mika by the shoulders. “A daquiri for me, please.”

Chenxue started cleaning up the table as Mika shouted indignantly over the racket. “It’s not even the �fteenth yet. Don’t go assuming I’ll be at the bottom of the board by the end of the month!”

“What’re you going to order, Gustav?” Klaus asked. Gustav stroked his Karl Marx-esque beard. “If it is going to be on Mika’s tab, then it would

have to be something very expensive, yes?” “Guys!” Everyone laughed again. Klaus opened his record book and wrote down the new point

standings. “I can’t believe you, Chenxue. You went that far on a three of a kind?” Mika perked up. “That’s right! If it weren’t for that jack of spades, you would have been

smoked. It’s like fate’s on your side, seriously.” “No such thing as fate,” Chenxue replied as he �nished his can of soda. The door chime rang.

A woman with a grey jacket and �ngerless gloves entered the bar, grabbing at her wind-tossed black hair to try to �atten it back to a respectable form. Chenxue’s eyes widened as he choked on his drink.

“Early today, isn’t she?” Klaus said while gently elbowing Chenxue. “Stop that.” Chenxue re-tied his apron and half-jogged out of the break room. “Hello there,

Xialing. How can I help you today?” “Just orange juice, thanks.” Chenxue poured the drink with as much grace and �air as he could muster. “Non-alcoholic?

That’s not like you,” “Trust me, it’s killing me too. But I still have work to do today. Gotta stay at least a bit sober.” “You just missed an excellent round of poker,” Klaus said as he walked by to clean some of the

tables. “Really? Who’s in the lead now?” “Who else other than our esteemed Chenxue?” Klaus replied, winking at him as he passed. Xialing began to drink her orange juice. “You’re pretty good at gambling, aren’t you,

Chenxue?” “I just like to play,” Chenxue said as he made death glares at Klaus. Klaus chuckled to himself

and started wiping down the round tables in the back. Chenxue absently arranged bottles behind the bar while thinking of what to say.

“That’s Wanda Duponte, isn’t it?” Gustav said, pointing at the small television that hung above the bar.

“Where?” Mika scrambled out of the back. The television displayed what seemed to be a small press conference. A young woman with a stoic, serene expression answered questions from a raucous crowd that threatened to tumble over the police perimeter.

“…�nd it ironic that you should make such bold humanitarian statements on the current crisis considering the Life Faction’s own record of human rights abuses, speci�cally those regarding the mass


expulsion of Decay Mages in the past. What do you have to say to this?” one reporter yelled through the crowd.

“As I have stated before, the Sanctuary of the Holy Mother bears no ill will towards the Decay in Vox Mortis. While our members have had their di�erences in the past, we acknowledge that death is a necessary complement to life, that the end naturally follows the beginning. That being said, the two cannot coexist on a single point. They must be separate. My administration’s policy has always been to maintain that balance.”

Another reporter pushed forward through the crowd. “And what do you have to say about the massacre at the Nox Republic capital?”

Wanda’s expression hardened. “Regarding that, I think all governments in our nation can agree that dark forces are at play. My people pledge their full cooperation in the combined e�ort to reach the truth of these matters. We understand that this threat targets no single faction, but rather all Mages throughout our nation. We will keep you updated as new developments arise.”

The police perimeter slowly closed as Wanda turned around and walked away from the crowd still yelling questions in her direction.

Mika sighed longingly. “Who’s Wanda Duponte?” Xialing asked, nudging Gustav. “Wanda Duponte is the newest leader of the Sanctuary of the Holy Mother. Youngest person

to ever achieve the title of Sister.” Gustav laughed to himself quietly and looked at Mika. “She’s also Mika’s one and only true love.”

“So, you like girls with long hair …” Xialing mused. “It’s not about the way she looks, I mean, that’s part of it, but it’s like everything, you know,

she’s always moving, but there’s also this stillness, and when she smiles, it’s like … it’s like—” “Didn’t know Wanda could smile,” Klaus said to Gustav. “She can! She has!” “Poor girl’s love-struck,” Xialing said while giving Mika a hug. “Maybe that’s why she’s so bad at poker. Can’t focus,” Gustav added. “You know what I’m talking about, don’t you, Chenxue?” Mika asked from underneath

Xialing’s grasp. The bar fell silent as all eyes turned on Chenxue. He stopped cleaning glasses abruptly. “Not a

clue,” he lied, but apparently not well enough. Xialing leaned over the bar. “Ooooh! Who is it? A guy or a gal? What’s their name?” Klaus could barely contain his laughter. “Local girl. Likes to drink.” “Sounds like my kind of woman,” Xialing said as she put several bills onto the counter. “You

should introduce me sometime.” “Heading out?” “Yup. I’ll swing by tomorrow.” Xialing walked out of the door and back into the windy

autumn afternoon.


“What’s our target?” Xialing asked from behind her mask. They were half a mile away from the bar in another brick walled back alley.

“Somebody with a kind of auxilifact with shapeshifting capabilities.” Viper replied. Xialing cursed under her breath. She hated when auxilifacts were involved. Auxilifacts were small tokens saturated with the magic of a Faction. They were able to manifest magic for anyone, even Greys, which meant the wielder often had no idea how to use them. And that meant things could get very messy very quickly. At least the bounties for them paid well.

Viper adjusted the laces on his running shoes and stretched his arms. “Stay close.” With a small burst of �re, the two thieves leapt into the air and onto the roof. They ran in silence, the occasional nighttime breeze obscuring their footsteps as they made their way west. “Did you consider my o�er?” Viper asked between breaths.

Xialing took a deep breath. If she could �nish that one job, she might be able to be done with working for Viper altogether. “Yes. I think I want to go for it.”

“Atta girl. I’ll give you some more details after this job, but basically the government is desperately trying to �nd the Fire Battery, the one that fuels our faction. They don’t know what it looks like or what it does, but they have it on good authority that ‘once you �nd it, you’ll know’. Cryptic bastards, aren’t they?”

Xialing’s pulse began to quicken as they passed the very intersections she went through to get here. “Do we have any clues about where it is?”

“That’s the thing: the government doesn’t know anything. It could be hidden anywhere in this faction, or even outside it, if someone’s already got it. It could be discovered already and be under the protection of some third party. Or maybe no one has found it yet, and it’s just sitting somewhere, hidden in plain sight.” They entered the neighborhood where the bar was located.

“What else do we know about the target? This one, I mean.” “Mid-twenties male. Black hair, slight build. Doesn’t look like he’s been in a �ght before.” Xialing’s heart began to beat faster. “What else?” “He’s a barkeep. We’ll be intercepting him on his way home.” Before Xialing could interject, they had already reached their destination. The two of them

landed on the ground nearly silently, directly in the path of a man in a thin, black autumn jacket rubbing his bare hands together for warmth. He stepped backwards in surprise.

“Hello there, sir. We believe that you are in possession of something that we’d very much like to have,” Viper hissed ominously.

“What are you talking about?” Chenxue said nervously. Viper nudged Xialing forward. With shaky steps, she walked up to Chenxue, praying that her

mask hid her features well enough. “Give us the auxilifact, and you don’t have to get hurt,” she said, trying her best to disguise her voice.

Chenxue instinctively took another step back. “I’m sorry, but I can’t do that.” Viper glided up next to Xialing. “Then it looks like we’ll have to get a bit rough.”


Without hesitation, Viper launched a small burst of �re towards Chenxue, instantly charring the stone street. Chenxue screamed and ducked his head into his jacket as the �ames engulfed him. “Wait, stop!” Xialing yelled as she grabbed Viper’s arm.

“Xialing?” Chenxue looked confused as his head emerged from his jacket. Miraculously, he seemed unhurt, despite the absolute destruction that was wrought on the surroundings.

“He knows you?” Viper asked as he shot three small �reballs at Chenxue. The �reballs arced through the air to �ank him and exploded on his coat, but again Chenxue seemed unhurt. “Regardless of the auxilifact, we can’t have anybody knowing who our members are.” Viper reached into his coat pocket and withdrew a large amount of pitch-black powder. Xialing moved forward to stop him but was roughly shoved back. “You and I are going to have a talk after this.” Concentrating on the powder in his hands, Viper blew a thin spear of bright blue �re towards Chenxue’s head. Xialing screamed but could not pull her eyes away.

The blue spear exploded as it hit Chenxue, scorching the ground and surrounding brick. The light that burst forth turned the night into day, if only for a brief moment. Viper whirled around at Xialing. “I thought I told you to keep contact with others to a minimum.”

“I-it’s not like that,” Xialing stammered as she kept looking at the smoldering blue �re. “I just drink there occasionally.”

“Who else knows?” “P-please, it’s—” “Who else knows!?” “I-I—” Xialing stopped as she saw a �gure in the �re. The blue �ames were dying quickly. No,

it was more like they were actively being put out. Smothered, like candle �ames that had run out of air. A blue point of �re, where the spear had originally impacted, slowly shrank until it disappeared in a wisp of neon blue. Behind it was a gloved hand. Chenxue stood up shakily, leaning on the brick wall. His left side had been burned badly and was exposed to the wind past his singed shirt. “I-I don’t have an auxilifact. I’m just a Darkness user; I’m a Mage like you. I try to keep it on the down low because of what happened in Saint Paul, but I don’t have an auxilifact, I promise.”

Viper closed in on him. “I’m afraid that this is no longer about the auxilifact. We can’t have people knowing who our members are.”

“No! Wait. He’s with me. He has clues about where the Fire Battery is.” Viper’s eyes narrowed. “You do, do you?” Chenxue’s eyes darted to Xialing in a panic, but there was no hesitation in his voice when he

spoke. “That’s right. Xialing approached me earlier today asking if I had any information, and I told her that I did.”

Viper backed away. “Look at you, doing research before I even gave you the assignment.” “I’m sorry. I should have checked with you �rst. But he really does have information. He agreed

to work with me.” Viper sneered at Xialing. “You’re right, you should have checked with me. We were almost in a

lot of trouble here.” He looked scornfully at Chenxue. “Fine. Get that Battery, and I’ll consider sparing


him.” As Viper passed by, he leaned close to Xialing. “Your cut’s down to �fty-grand. Watch it,” he whispered in Xialing’s ear. With another burst of �re, Viper left the alleyway.

“Okay, that was pretty intense,” Chenxue said as Xialing helped him up. She took o� her mask and looked at him apologetically.

“I’m sorry I got you into this mess,” Xialing said. Chenxue tried desperately to think of something cool to say. “It’s a good thing I catch on

quickly. What’s this about a Fire Battery?” “Come on, let’s head to my place. I’ll explain everything there. Where’s your jacket?” Chenxue adjusted the cu� of his gloves. “Not sure. It doesn’t really matter; I can buy the same

one later.”

Xialing opened the door to her house with her back as she and Chenxue just barely limped past the threshold. With a grunt, Xialing put Chenxue down on the couch and immediately went to the hallway cabinet. “How’s your side?”

“Medium well,” Chenxue said through shallow breaths. His adrenaline had long since died down, and the pain was rocketing through his chest. With a slow exhale, he leaned his head back and rubbed his gloves between his �ngers. It had been months since he had to �ght. But with what happened in Vox Mortis and the Nox Republic…Chenxue closed his eyes. It looked like some practice would be in order.

“Here.” Xialing was approaching with a bottle of ibuprofen and a glass of water. Behind her was an older man, with tired but kind eyes. “This is my dad. He knows a thing or two about Life magic, but you should take those painkillers anyways.”

“You sure know how to pick ‘em,” her dad said, half to himself as he knelt down and began generating a green energy from his hands over the burns. “Polite-looking kid like you, getting into bar �ghts?”

“Just defending myself,” Chenxue said as Xialing shrugged apologetically at him from behind her dad. He felt the pain subside magnitudes faster. Chenxue looked down and saw some of the skin begin to reform from the edges of the burns. “Thank you, Mr …”

“Wang.” Chenxue glanced at Mr. Wang’s hands, which were coarse and subtly stained with oil. “What’s your name, kid?” Mr. Wang asked.

“Zhao Chenxue.” Mr. Wang smiled. “It’s nice to meet you, Chenxue. Xialing tells me you work at Gustav’s?” “For two years now.” Mr. Wang chuckled to himself. “Well, if Gustav’s kept you on for that long, you can’t be too

bad a kid.” The green glow subsided as he withdrew his hands and stood up. “That’s about all I can do for now. I’m going to head back to sleep; have an early morning tomorrow. You think you can keep an eye on those burns?” he asked Xialing.

“Sure. Don’t worry about us,” Xialing replied.


Mr. Wang brie�y smiled and then began to make his way back down the hallway. “He seems nice,” he whispered to Xialing as he passed.

“Get going, pa,” Xialing complained in mock annoyance. Chenxue heard Mr. Wang chuckling mischievously as he disappeared down the corridor. “Feeling any better?” Chenxue sat up and swallowed the ibuprofen pills with a gulp of ice water. “Lots. Are all of

your family Mages?” “More or less. I’m a Fire Mage, myself. So is …” “Terrifying spear dude?” “Yeah.” Xialing �dgeted with her �ngers as the living room clock clicked away. “So. Where do

you want to start?” In the low living room light, Xialing seemed smaller, more forlorn than Chenxue had seen her

at the bar. Her eyes were focused somewhere else as they rested on a patch of carpet. It occurred to Chenxue that in the two years they had been friends, he had never really gotten to know her. Their entire relationship was built on snarky conversations and banter. He knew what drinks she liked, but of course he would; that was his job. He didn’t know that she lived so close by, or that she was a Mage. They may as well have been strangers. Questions began to bubble up, but Chenxue held them down. “What’s this Fire Battery thing we’re looking for?” he �nally asked.

Xialing almost seemed relieved that that was the question he landed on. “You haven’t heard of the Batteries?”

“I moved here from Nox only a couple years back.” “Is that right? Well, basically some people believe that the Batteries play a major role in our

country’s creation, and the creation of Mages in general. In the mythology of it, all magic of a faction was born from their corresponding Battery, kind of like how all matter and energy in the universe came from the Big Bang. These Batteries are the primal source of all magic, and all modern Mages draw their powers from them. You follow me so far?”

“It all seems a bit fantastical to me.” Xialing nodded to herself. “It did to most people. Even people who did believe in them only

thought that they existed once, long ago, but have since disappeared. But a small group of theorists believed not only that the Batteries were real, but that they exist in our world today, hidden away as … super auxilifacts, if you will, granting their wielders immense power.”

Chenxue sco�ed. “You can’t honestly believe this,” he said, looking at Xialing hopefully. Xialing seemed deep in thought. “Do you know what kind of Mage my dad is?” Chenxue hesitated. “He’s a Life Mage, right? One that can transfer life energy to heal, like he

did with me.” Xialing shook her head. “He’s a Fire Mage, just like me. Not a Life, not even a hybrid.” “Then … how did he learn how to heal? Actually, how is he even capable of that?” Xialing looked around to make sure no one could hear her, even in the empty house. She

leaned close to Chenxue. “My father has a small leaf that he keeps with him in his wallet. According to


him, it’s a small part of the Life Battery, and it’s why he’s capable of basic healing.” Xialing leaned back into her seat as Chenxue processed the information. “I didn’t believe him at �rst,” Xialing continued. “But then, with what happened at the Nox Republic …”

“You think it’s a Battery that killed them all?” Chenxue asked breathlessly. Xialing nodded. If anyone could use it, then it really was like a super auxilifact. Chenxue �dgeted with his gloves. “And now we have to �nd the Fire Battery.”

“Basically.” Chenxue sighed. “I hardly even know where to start looking.” Xialing smiled. “Me neither. But we can �gure it out tomorrow.” She pulled a blanket around

herself and settled into the reclining chair. “You’re sleeping out here?” “Someone’s gotta keep an eye on you, in case your lungs fail.” “… My lungs could fail?” Xialing turned out the light. “Xialing? Hello?”


Chapter 10 Cyrus — Rats and Men Cyrus knelt down to study the scorch marks on the ground more closely. They resembled some

Pyre techniques at �rst glance, but were designed speci�cally that way. He tried to scratch the marks o�, but to no e�ect. If it had actually been a Fire Mage, there would've been at least a few �akes. The most expensive and e�ective fuel for them always left at least a little trace. Either this was made by an auxilifact, a Storm Mage, or some foolish contraption. He rubbed his chin in thought. This alleyway was the kind of place nobody desired to look. Stratos was a paranoid faction. Every inch of Oklahoma City was surveilled by a thousand cameras from a thousand angles. Everywhere, apparently, but this alleyway, and maybe a few others. It would've been a perfect place to lure and kill somebody who pissed somebody else o�.

Cyrus redirected his focus around the alley. This scorch mark was the only evidence he'd found of magical activity outside the summit. He spotted a rat in a corner between one of the buildings and a trash bin. Cyrus approached it cautiously and calmly reached his mind outwards.

"Hello, little one." He made his thoughts known. "Whaddaya want? I'm eatin' here!" the rat raucously responded. It took Cyrus back for only a

moment. At this point in his skill level, he was used to animals being so direct and uncultured. "This scorch mark here, do you know what happened?" "I dunno. But a few buddies of mine were hanging out around here last night, and they said

that they spotted some Storm Mage girl zapping the maggots right out of some fool! I thought they was crazy, but if yer here..."

"Yes, yes. Could they describe her?" "Naw, sorry. All you guys look the same to us. But they knews she was a Mage by smell o’

light-nin in tha air. The other one just smelled normal-like, they says." The rat crawled out of its hiding place and looked at Cyrus.

"Thank you, little one. Here, have something for your trouble." Cyrus picked out a portion of mothersbread he had just for this occasion and tossed a small piece lightly to the rat. Mothersbread was something of a family recipe. Animals, no matter what they ate, loved the stu�. And, it didn't even poison them like most of the food outside the Sanctuary did. It wasn't too bad for Mages like Cyrus either. The rat squeaked with delight as he delved into the delectable treat.

"Oh, I've been looking for me just this good thing! Thanks, speaker!" 'Speaker' was slang amongst animals for those Life Mages that could speak to them, like Cyrus.

The speaker simply shook his head with a smile as he watched the rat scurry away with the mothersbread in tow. Cyrus popped a piece of it into his own mouth and sampled its sweet �avor. The Mage stood up and readjusted his trench coat.

He wondered what the Sister was up to now that he was nowhere to be found at the Congress. She probably expected him to go o� on his own to investigate this, but would likely give him something like a parent's scolding upon his return. Cyrus smirked. A troublemaker, she called him. He


was a trouble-solver. The only one for the job. He'd been looking into this since before the Congress was even called. It wasn’t just the Darkness Faction that concerned him. He had friends in the Vox Mortis—Decay, they called themselves—and always wanted to make sure they checked in if they ever went dark. They always did, never failing to ease Cyrus's fears every time the convoy of doom dropped o� the face of the Earth.

But this time, he got no con�rmation that everything was alright. The Congress had tried to contact them, but received no reply. This wasn’t abnormal. Decay kept to itself. It was a nomadic band, and few outside the faction knew where they were. Few cared. But, in light of the massacre in the Nox Republic, Cyrus was more concerned for Vox Mortis than ever.

Cyrus had gone to the Sister in con�dence to get some sort of opinion out of her, but as always she thought he was making something out of nothing. Vox would come back eventually, they were just taking their sweet time this once. That was what she had said, at least. Cyrus could tell that something was o� with her. She was lying. He knew that something was wrong, that Vox Mortis wasn’t just being their normal antisocial selves. But he didn’t press the Sister on the issue. He would �gure out the truth himself.

Cyrus did his initial searches and found nothing at the di�erent Nox-safe zones on the outskirts of the Sanctuary. Not a single piece of evidence pointing to the fact that they had been there. When Darkness was attacked, naturally Cyrus got through to the Sister. This Congress, though, wasn't going to solve any problems. Politics never did.

He followed Wanda Duponte to the Congress before subsequently abandoning her to the politics of it all. Cyrus was going to get to the bottom of it, some way or another. The last thing this world needed was some psycho going around massacring di�erent people with that much power.

Cyrus went deeper into the alley to discern if anything else of interest could be found there. He had heard through his 'natural connections' that there was a Grey purist group operating in this area. They met in secret, plotting ways to make Mages' lives more di�cult. A terrorist organization made up of non-mages, the �ip side of the Council of Grey. Organizations like that normally didn't do anything major, though. Not like this.

There were some groups that were planning on delaying or even stopping the Congress, but they were more or less ignored. Such groups were a rare sight nowadays, with most of the population consisting of Mages, but back in their heyday, those organizations made Mages’ lives hell. Most people forgot they had even existed, but Cyrus didn't. In fact, they were on top of Cyrus's suspicion list. After all, who else would want to kill thousands of Mages but those who wanted humanity to retake the world?

As he searched, he uncovered what appeared to be a painted sigil. It was a crude skull and sword. He recognized it as a purist symbol.

"Warriors," Cyrus mumbled to himself to make sure the connections were �ring in his brain. He traced the sword with his �nger carefully. After waiting for a couple moments, he concluded that it was not a trigger of some mechanical device. Purist groups, in order to compensate for their lack of magic, had to rely on the humans' natural skill with machines even more than the average man or


woman. They had to, or else their claim that Non-mages were superior to Mages would fall through. Cyrus studied the symbol more closely. Something like this would've marked a safe place. This was supported by the fact that the sword's blade pointed down the alleyway instead of down into the ground like it normally did. Sloppy work. The purists’ e�orts to keep themselves hidden failed to hide a single thing. He didn’t dare to underestimate them, though. They were as adaptable �ghters as one could �nd. Cyrus had personally engaged with a few groups over the past couple of years, and there wasn't one that didn't test his abilities in some way.

By instinct, Cyrus reached inside his coat to check the illegal auxilifact he had hidden away in there. It was still fully charged with its six shots ready to �re, as Cyrus always made sure it was.

"You know that those things are illegal, right?" Cyrus pulled the �rearm-shaped auxilifact out of his coat and pointed it at the source of the

voice. It was a brilliant silver with black runes inscribed over it, with a specially-made handle designed to �t his hand perfectly.

Behind him was a beautiful, short-haired woman that looked armed and armored to be on some sort of mission. The lengths of her arms were covered in animated, lightning-streak tattoos, glistening with electric current, in a way not �tting for stealth. And yet she had snuck up on him…The major portion of the out�t that drew his eyes were the strange metal gauntlets she wore over her forearms. They were inscribed with special decorations and runes that seemed to continue into the tattoos that climbed up her arms.

Ink conduits. She was a Storm Mage, and a good one at that, if she was able to get her hands on those. The gauntlets themselves appeared to be Darkness auxilifacts not too dissimilar to Cyrus's own armament. He guessed they formed the same function as the ink, only perhaps by absorbing and redirecting the energy she herself produced.

"Pointing that thing at me will get us nowhere." She said with a smile, unfazed at the danger she was now in.

"What do you want?" Cyrus questioned, �rm in his grip of the weapon. "Relax." She placed her arms in a cross with a clink from her gauntlets. "I'm here to make your

day, perhaps even your year." Cyrus didn't relax. "How so?" "I know why you're here. The sudden mass murder of Darkness tends to get noticed, as do

representatives of all the other nations coming into this city." "Yeah. How does this make my day?" "I know who did it." Cyrus backed o� with the weapon's point. "And you haven't said anything to an o�cial?" "I have reason to believe it was, as some detectives say, an inside job , by some individuals with

interests in the Congress." She became more serious. "Or, in other words, someone important may be helping the actors."

"What is your proof?" Cyrus asked.


"Nothing physical yet," she answered honestly, at least as far as Cyrus could feel. "I decided to do some digging on my own to see what I could come up with. Very similar to you, I'd imagine."

"And who are you then?" "Centari Luna. Interested party who tagged along with the Storm Ambassador." She held out a

gauntlet-covered arm to shake Cyrus's hand. It was meant for his armed limb. Cyrus slowly holstered the weapon and reached out his own hand to meet hers.

"Cyrus DuPonte. Interested party, as well." He introduced himself with his normal alias, stolen from the Sister.

"You can drop the charade with me, Cy." Luna smirked."I know more than you'd realize." "What do you mean?" "For example, I know your real last name is Taltras." She said it triumphantly, as if giving the

right answer at a quiz show. "What else?" "Wanted for murder of a few Greys that the world was better o� without." Luna smirked. "You heard about that?" "Deduced it was you. Cyrus Taltras, a masterful Life wielder goes o� the map after committing

the murders of three known Purists. A few months later, the Sister of the Sanctuary announces that she's adopted a son. One with abilities of a master, with the age of a new high school graduate. It's not a hard connection to make, friend."

"It's a very hard connection to make," Cyrus argued, "unless one has way too much free time and interest in murder on their hands."

Luna shrugged. "Can't really deny that." "What's your point, then? Is this a lure to �nd me?" "Not you speci�cally. I was looking for anyone interested in �guring out who did this.

However, I'd be lying if I said I was hoping for anyone else." Luna smiled like an old friend who Cyrus hadn't seen for years. He decided that he didn't like it.

"Why is that?" "For you, I think it would be personal. Personal stakes tend to fuel investigations, and make

them more productive." "Personal? How do you �gure that?" "Purists." Luna pointed to the symbol at the wall. "How else?" "If you truly knew anything about me, you'd know that I don't care about them anymore.

They are weeds that will pull themselves, given the time." "Now that's just not true. One doesn't lose a parent and forget about the killers." Luna

shrugged o� her statement as if it meant nothing. Cyrus, in quick response, marched forward and grabbed her arm. He stuck a pointed �nger towards her throat.

"Say something like that again and you'll see what those master techniques can do." Once again, Luna was cool-headed as anyone could possibly be. She didn’t look afraid, but apologetic. She di�used the situation by raising her hands.


"I'm sorry. Won't happen again." "It better not." Cyrus backed himself o�. "Now, what did you �nd in your little 'investigation' I

heard about last night?" "You heard about it? There weren't any witnesses around, I checked." "You missed the littler, furrier ones." Cyrus smiled and gestured to the rat who, by this time,

had himself a friend to share his meal with. "Right." Luna rubbed the back of her neck, as if embarrassed to forget such things, "In any

case, I learned of a purist group in the area suddenly obtaining a large amount of Darkness auxilifacts as soon as the nation went silent. There were a few attacks over the past few weeks with them in the city, as I'm sure you're aware of by now." She o�ered a hand for Cyrus to respond. He nodded. Finding out about those attacks was what sent him down to these streets to begin with.

"You suspect the Purists are behind it all, then?" Cyrus asked to con�rm her beliefs. "I couldn't see anyone else. I thought you suspected them?" "I do." Cyrus paused and considered. "I just �nd it odd that anyone else would even pay

attention to them. No other Mages ever acknowledge their very existence, let alone see them as perpetrators of something this big."

"You're not the only one with a personal cause, Cy." Luna clanged a �st into her other hand, "You're not the only one they hurt."

"We can't con�rm them yet. Not right now." "It would be an enormous political plunder," Luna admitted. “But I’m not a politician. Still,

they’re the best �t for the job in my book. Even if they didn't perform this mass slaughter, they've still done countless terrible things throughout their history to wielders just like me and you."

"You're in it for revenge, then?" Cyrus asked. "Aren't you?" Am I? Cyrus asked himself. He shook the thought out of his brain. "No. I'm here because the important people like tripping over each other more than doing

what is necessary." "Well aren't you the vigilante!" Cyrus smiled at that. "It's what we both are, isn't it?" "So you'll tag along when I give those purists a piece of my mind?" Luna asked. It concerned

Cyrus how quickly the tone of the conversation shifted from that of an interrogation to one of two old friends.

"I would be happy to. Ladies �rst." Cyrus gestured outwards to allow her to lead. Luna smiled and began to move down the alley. Despite his tones, Cyrus didn't trust her fully. People who investigated this on their own, even Cyrus himself, did it for their own reasons. The intentions of one are always to themselves �rst, and others second. Cyrus wouldn't betray her on his own, though. Being a Life Mage was hard in these situations, leaving him with little options if someone pulled weapons or magic out on him. Luna was a valuable ally, especially due to that.


But he still didn’t trust her. This could far too easily be a trap. It might be a di�erent faction trying to get to the Sister through him, for example. He was close to important people, no matter how much he didn't want to be. Cyrus doubled his awareness, looking for any and all signs that this march to righteous battle would end in betrayal. He smiled when Luna looked back to him.

"The trick with these kinds of groups is where they leave the front door," she said. It was the end of the alley, assumedly a dead end.

"What do you think?" Cyrus asked. "Well, the hideout is either in one of these buildings or underground." Luna placed her hands

on the brick and began feeling it up and down, searching. "If it is in a building, there's a secret door. Purists wouldn't use magic to seal it, making it easily broken through with a good dose of lightning."

"And underground?" "I think it's your turn to think, detective." She gave him a crooked smile. It was obvious that she

didn't trust him fully either. Cyrus concluded it was fair and provided his thoughts. "If it's underground, then it's the same thing. Probably a trapdoor hidden under some

dumpster or carefully placed trash." Cyrus felt around the ground and looked underneath nearby objects for such a trapdoor.

"Right." Luna moved to the adjacent wall as Cyrus tried to sense any Life Energy coming from anyone in the area. As he expected, the ground below him seemed to block o� his perception. There were people in the buildings around them (as well as Luna and himself), but he couldn't tell if they were Mage or Grey.

"How many are we looking at, do you think?" Luna asked, picking up on what he was doing. "How many non-Mages, you mean?" "Yeah. I'd like to know our odds, if I can." She knocked on a wall. A dull �st-meets-brick sound

echoed back. "Plenty enough that it should be interesting. Not too much to make it impossible." Cyrus gave

the vague answer that he was discerning from the building Luna was interested in. Something nearby was jamming his powers, at least a little bit. Once more, Cyrus checked the weapon he had holstered. If it wasn't fully charged, it had a tendency to do that to him. It was full of its shots. The purists must have their hands on Darkness auxilifacts of their own if Cyrus’s powers were being dampened from this range.

"Do you feel that?" Cyrus asked as Luna listened to the wall of the building. "Feel what?" She raised her head to look at him. "Something's jamming my senses." Cyrus got up on his feet. "I'm feeling less charge in the air. Could be the same e�ect. I think it’s coming from this

building," Luna explained. "Our target?" Cyrus asked, hand on his weapon. "Sounds like it, at least." Luna put her ear to the wall and tapped on it with an armored �st. It

seemed normal to Cyrus, but considering the eureka expression on her face, it wasn't. She backed away quickly and then stretched her arms out in front of her.


"You ready? Once I break through, they'll be on us like clouds on a grey day." She smiled, obviously excited to see some action.

"As long as you are. I don't have to rely on my magic for things like this." "I think you'll �nd that I can handle myself," Luna brought her right �st behind her, like she

was ready to knock the closest tooth out. Cyrus responded by drawing his auxilifact and once more checking its charge. It had lost none. The Storm Mage then brought her other �st back behind her, making both of them crackle with electric charge that surged from the outside air. She didn’t keep it for long before sending the surge of energy into the wall, creating what looked like an extremely potent lightning bolt. The building’s secret door was blown wide open to the sound of exploding brick and metal, creating a massive entrance for the two Mages to enter through. When it was all over, Luna’s gauntlets on her wrists released smoke as if to vent themselves. She put one to her lips to blow it away in showo� fashion.

“Encore.” Cyrus smiled as she looked at him. It was obviously meant to impress. The two then entered the hideout, Cyrus in the lead with the auxilifact pointed forward. The interior of the building wasn’t lit up, at least in the entryway to the hideout, so it was dark, the only light being the daylight that spilled in from outside. It wasn’t long before Cyrus heard and sensed someone running towards them. And, from the looks of things, they weren’t alone. He pointed his weapon in their direction, and Luna followed his lead by preparing another batch of charge in her gauntlets. The blue lightning that snapped around her arms illuminated the room in a neon blue glow.

“Lay down your weapons! Nobody needs to die today!” Cyrus yelled out to them. It was unlikely that they would surrender, but he wanted to at least give them the option. Without so much as a response, he and Luna were subjected to gun�re. Cyrus quickly ducked and �red one of the shots in his auxilifact towards the nearest signal of life. Given that it was darker in the building than he expected, the Life Mage would need to rely on his sensing of their energy to prevail here.

His �rst attack was a direct hit, knocking the attacker well back and rendering her unconscious. Luna followed by �ring o� a blast of lightning, illuminating the room for just enough time for Cyrus to get a good look while zapping another two of their enemies. The room itself was only an entryway, of course: the real hideout was right below their feet, through a trapdoor located at the other end of the room. Supposedly, these people were either guards of the secret door or those who could easily come to the hideout’s defense.

The latter option of course suggested that others were inside the hideout itself getting rid of anything that could help Cyrus and Luna’s investigation.

“Luna! Keep them steady!” Cyrus yelled. Luna nodded to him and induced another jolt while the guards were still stunned, causing their muscles to spasm out and lock still. Cyrus rushed past them and jumped through the trap door they had left open. It wasn’t a far drop, and he managed to land it without buckling his knees. He looked around to �nd exactly what he expected of a purist hideout. One wall was reserved for their symbol, and others for maps of the di�erent factions. The maps were all marked up with information that Cyrus didn’t have the time to parse at the moment. He looked to �nd a man gathering papers and �les from a desk on the far side of the room.


“Hold it right there!” Cyrus yelled out as he pointed his auxilifact to him. He looked up from what he was doing and raised his hands in surrender. Before Cyrus could say anything, however, he was grabbed from behind by another purist. Cyrus lost hold of his weapon. His attacker was large, and powerful. Cyrus tried to hit him, but couldn’t move enough to do so.

The man at the desk, meanwhile, �nished his gathering of papers, threw them in a trash can, and then lit it on �re with a quickly-lit lighter. It didn’t take him more than a second afterwards to draw a pistol of his own from a compartment in the desk and point it at Cyrus. In quick response, Cyrus made a last ditch e�ort to escape the hold, kicking his feet o� the desk in front of him. The table skidded away, and his attacker faltered a bit, but Cyrus couldn’t break free. The armed man aimed and took his shots. Two in the chest, and one in the stomach.

The pain was horrible. Indescribable to the average man, but Cyrus had been shot before. His breath immediately became shortened, and he felt his heart slow down as the bullets twisted at his insides. His legs went numb, and he felt as if he was going to lose his lunch several times over. Cyrus directed all thoughts in his brain to reposition his arms to get a handhold on his holder’s head. The shooter drew back, seeing that his bullets did the job he wanted them too.

He didn’t realize Cyrus had a little trick up his sleeve. As his hand touched the head of the guard, he felt the energy surge within him. It used the

hand as a sort of mouth, a connector, and drank deep from the reserves of his enemy. Almost instantly, the foe released Cyrus from the hold, but by that point it was too late for him. With the energy surging in him, Cyrus simply pushed the bullets out through where they had come from, and began stitching his wounds up with new �esh and bone without even a thought.

Given the victim’s screams of agony, the act of Cyrus draining the Life Energy from him was excruciating. Cyrus didn’t even give him a look, choosing to stare into the eyes of his shooter. The stare of a de�ant animal, one who would not fall before more civilized tactics. After he had taken enough to make himself whole again, Cyrus turned his attention back to his victim, who had at this point begun to buckle down and kneel due to the pain, and remade his grip with both hands on his forehead.

And then he began to take the rest of the energy necessary for life. The entirety of the man’s energy began to �ow into Cyrus without any resistance. The purist,

despite spending his life supposedly training to �ght Mages like Cyrus, was powerless to stop him. The shooter attempted to come to his rescue, �ring o� the remainder of the clip into Cyrus’s back. He felt around thirteen rounds hit his back, shoulders, and even legs (the shooter must’ve not been aiming well), but all only bounced o�, any damage they did being repaired faster than it would ever be done.

The victim began to scream louder, but Cyrus tuned it out. He continued to take the energy until every last drop was stolen. In the end, the victim turned his lifeless head up to Cyrus, as if to ask for some forgiveness, but he o�ered none. The Life Mage simply let the broken body collapse under its own weight, dropping to the ground with a hard thud.

“What are you?” the shooter asked in a voice that radiated fear. “I’m the monster people like you create every day by simply existing,” Cyrus said slowly as he

turned around. “Tell me, did you ever hear about the murder of Fahra Taltras?”


“Yeah. Some wielder in Sanctuary. A Javelin got her for messing with their plans to protest.” “Correct. Though I’m pretty sure that’s a point of pride for people like you.” Cyrus took a step

in his direction, and the man took a step back, nearly stumbling over the debris. “Killing a Mage who has no hope of �ghting back.”

“What does that have to do with this?” He became �ustered. “We’re not Javelin!” “Is there a real di�erence between any of you?” Cyrus reclaimed his dropped weapon. “You all

work with each other, make plans together, issue kill orders for each other. Purists of a di�erent name are all part of the same parasite.”

“What? You’re going to kill all of us?” “No. Just enough to make the others disband.” Cyrus now reached him and picked him up by

the collar. “My name is Cyrus Taltras. You can guess who my mother was.” “Please! I’m sorry! I have a family!” “So did I,” said Cyrus as he �ipped the auxilifact in his hand. He then swung it as a metal club

to knock the purist leader out cold. Although his jaw was broken, he’d live to see another day. And perhaps spread the word that Cyrus was hunting them down. He turned his attention back to the few documents that had survived the �re. Now he was one step closer to �nding them.


Chapter 11 Ashton — O� the Beaten Path Two customers sat at a local cafe. It was a mom-and-pop shop, clearly on its last legs as the city

continued to expand. These local drags were propped up by hipsters and retro geeks. Ashton �gured even that wouldn’t be enough to save them from gentri�cation. Smooth jazz played in the background and wooden furniture was spread throughout the interior. The room was lit with small candles.

“I’m sure you understand the gravity of the situation, Ms. Blakely,” he said to the woman across the table. Ruby Blakely. Potentially the last Darkness Mage in Kingdom Miami. Maybe even the world. He hoped the three other people in the cafe would mind their own business. Two had headphones in. One was asleep on the table.

“You think I don’t, Mr., um…” “Illuminate,” Ashton �nished for her. “But please, call me Ashton.” “Well, Ashton, I still don’t understand what this is about.” “It’s about the destruction of the Darkness Faction. Your faction. It’s about how we can get to

the bottom of what happened and stop it from happening again.” Ashton realized he had raised his voice a bit, so he softened his tone. “But �rst let me o�er my condolences for the loss of your people. I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now.”

“No, you can’t,” Ruby replied pointedly. She hu�ed, then continued, “What do you mean, my people? You work for the mayor, right? So is it true, what they’ve been saying in the news? No survivors?”

Ashton sighed. “There are a lot of unknowns right now. But so far, no. No survivors.” “Oh… so that’s why you brought me here.” “Yes,” Ashton admitted. “Not a lot of Darkness Mages have chosen to relocate to Kingdom

Miami. In fact, you’re the only documented one here in Lux Aeterna. There are obviously others spread throughout the other factions, but not a lot. That makes you very important right now. I know this is a di�cult time for you, but you just might be the key to �guring this whole thing out. That’s why I’m here. To o�er you an opportunity.”

Ruby �dgeted in her seat. Her eyebrows were creased furiously, and her cheeks were red, like she was about to start screaming. Ashton was sure he had lost her. Then she �nally spoke.

“What kind of opportunity?” The barista approached the table, but Ashton shooed her away. She gave an annoyed look, but

followed his instructions. Ashton leaned in closer and lowered his voice. “We need to know what happened in the Nox Republic,” he said. “The Congress is setting up

its own investigation, but frankly, we don’t have that kind of time. If we don’t act now, this could happen again. Maybe even here in Kingdom Miami.”

Ruby’s eyes widened a bit with that. Ashton continued. “I’m going to Saint Paul with a colleague of mine to investigate. Yes, we’re going to breach the

exclusion zone. Yes, we’re going to violate interfactional law. But it’s necessary. And—” he lowered his


voice to just a whisper "—perhaps not quite as uno�cial as you may think. Leopold Dazzle expressed support at the �rst session, and that support has since manifested itself into a top-secret plan. The plan I’m sharing with you right now..”

“Why does this involve me?” “Like I said, you are one of the last known Darkness Mages in Kingdom Miami, and Nox has

invested pretty signi�cantly in keeping our spies out of Saint Paul. Frankly, our understanding of their magic isn’t as great as we’d like.”

Ruby stopped to consider it. Ashton didn’t like that. If she considered, she would say no. So he played his ace.

“Ms. Blakley...Ruby, can I call you that? Ruby, we know that you have family in Saint Paul.” He saw her cheeks �ush with that sentence. “Our o�ce has been trying very hard to get in contact with them for you, but we’ve had no luck breaking through. If you were to accompany us to Saint Paul, you would have an opportunity to search for them.”

The edges of Ruby’s eyes were wet. She tried to hide her shaking hands behind a long sip of co�ee. When she �nally lowered her drink, she said simply, “Tell me more.” He nodded.

“As I said, I will be on this journey with my colleague, Hayden. Transportation, food, lodging—all of that is on us.” He gave her a moment, and when she didn’t respond, he relented. “I can give you twenty-four hours to consider. You know how to reach me.”

Ashton got up to leave. Miss Blakely looked deep in thought, her expression unreadable. Ashton pondered whether his little speech would be enough to convince her. He thought to leave her with one �nal thought. “I truly am sorry about what’s happened.”

That night, he did his research. Ruby Blakley had spent her entire adult life in Kingdom Miami, but she was originally from Nox, and as such, the mayor’s o�ce kept a close eye on her activities. That meant detailed records. No matter which direction he went, his research always brought him back to her parents. Her family. When she didn’t call after �fteen hours, an idea began to form. After eighteen hours, the plan was �nalized. And after twenty-two, when it was obvious to him that she wasn’t going to call, he made a decision. He dialed her number.

She didn’t respond the �rst three times. Finally, on the fourth call, she picked up. “Listen, I thought you got the hint that I wasn’t interes—” “Ruby, I know that you're hesitant about joining our investigative team. I can understand why,

but things have changed since the last time we’ve spoken. This is con�dential, of course, but some news from Miami this morning suggests that the situation in the Nox Republic may not be as dire as we all thought. We received a transmission from inside the exclusion zone this morning. It was a list of names. One of those names was Carrie Blakley. Your mother, we believe.”

Ashton paused, he didn’t hear anything on the telephone for a while. Finally, he heard Ruby softly respond.

“That can’t be true.” “Yes, I can assure you this is the latest information we have regarding the situation. I hope this

comforts you, even if you choose not to join us—”


“I’ll go.” “Oh.” Ashton smiled. “I’m glad to hear that you’ll join us. We’ll meet at City Hall a little

before noon. Look for the Voltswagen Van with blue stripes and white coating. If you need any help in preparation let me know.”

He hung up the phone. There was, of course, no transmission from inside the city. No list of names. No survivors.

Ashton waited on the steps of the capitol. Hayden had, per usual, been nothing but obnoxious while they waited. College tales. In half of them Ashton had been present and had no desire to relive those times of his life. It was a little before noon. Ashton felt extremely unwell. For one, because of Hayden’s stories. But also with nerves. What they were doing wasn’t o�cially sanctioned, even if it had Ainsley Flicker’s green light. If they got caught, he doubted the kingdom would come to bail him out.

He saw Ruby arrive. She was holding her bag, and she too, wore an unreadable face. Hayden tried to use the usual charms on Ruby, but as far as Ashton could tell, it didn’t work. Ruby, like him, probably wasn’t interested in making friends. Ashton could respect that. He wanted to get to Saint Paul as fast as he could.

The group set out on the road, due north, for the Sanctuary of the Holy Mother. Outside the city, there was little tra�c. Few people seemed to be travelling these days with the travel restrictions and mandatory self-isolation. They awkwardly listened to the radio. Hayden tried to start a conversation every few minutes, but both Ashton and Ruby were reluctant to talk. This lasted for hours on end. The sun started its journey from the sky’s peak back to the horizon.

They passed Jacksonville, then Tallahassee, then crossed the border to the Sanctuary of the Holy Mother. There were no border checks here, not since the Peace Accords. That wasn’t true of most factions, but Life and Light had always had a special relationship. Even so, Ashton had always thought the place to be odd. It was too relaxed in too many ways. The people always seemed happy, which Ashton had never really understood. Maybe it was the drugs. Or the Garden. Or maybe just something in the water.

His eyes got heavy, and he dozed o�. He woke up a time later, and tried to stay awake, but then dozed o� again.

The next time he awoke, it was to the furious sound of rubber ripping across asphalt. Before he could react, his head slammed into the side door window, cracking the glass and sending hot streaks of white light through his plane of vision.

Ashton gripped his head as the Voltswagen was thrown from the highway, through the shrubs and tall grass and thin trees. And it kept skidding, at an unnatural speed, pushed by some unknown force, until the road was out of sight entirely. Finally, the van stopped, its momentum breaking with the urgency of a mousetrap. Its driverside wheels pulled up from the street, and the whole bus nearly tipped, but it caught its balance. All was still. Ashton’s head throbbed from the pain. He put a hand to it to stabilize his vision.


Beside him, Hayden looked �ne. But Ruby wasn’t in the car. Ashton noticed that the fabric of his suit pants was wet around his crotch. For a moment, he thought he might have wet himself. But the water was coming from somewhere else. It was leaking through the crack his head had made on his window.

Ashton rubbed his eyes. It helped a bit, enough to realize that they were underwater. Or rather, trapped in a bubble of water. Water Mages .

He was able to conjure a small laser from his �nger. Sharp pain pierced him behind his eyes, but he held onto the light. He tried to use it to cut through the side of the van, but it wasn’t strong enough to break even the plastic frame.

Before he could think of a backup plan, three �gures appeared around the van, their forms waving and refracting through the water tunnel around the car. Their hands were raised, and when they lowered them, the water fell from its position. The car fell with the water, slamming into the now-drenched soil, the water bubble dissipated.

They didn’t �ll the car with water and drown him. They easily could have. This must mean that they aren’t trying to kill us . Whoever they were. The Democratic Republic of Loch wasn’t too far from here. These were highwaymen, looters. But in the middle of the day, on a public highway? He looked at his companions. Hayden’s eyes were wide, a dumb look of terror frozen on his face. Ruby was still nowhere to be seen. He opened his mouth to ask Hayden where she was, but one of the Water Mages outside spoke �rst.

“Out of the car. No sudden movements. You know how this works.” Ashton looked at them again. Two had pistols in their hands. This wasn’t going to be a magical

�ght. Even if it was, he wasn’t con�dent he could win. He raised his right hand in surrender and used his left to push the door open. Hayden followed suit.

The assailants were all of a slim, but rough build. They looked experienced. All in masks. And all three seemed to be constantly watching their movements. It'd been awhile since Ashton had gotten into a �ght. He had done training for a while, but the odds weren’t in his favor. They were outnumbered. He felt useless.

One of the Mages was the leader, marked by a red bandanna on his arm. The other two were clothed only in camou�age.

“Mr. Pink, make sure no one tries to escape,” the leader said. One of the sidemen moved around the van, toward Hayden. Ashton heard a hollow thump behind him, like someone slamming a hammer onto a wooden board. He didn’t dare turn around. “Don’t be alarmed,” the leader told him. “We don’t want any more trouble than necessary. Just give us everything you have. Wallets, cash. Anything.”

Ashton turned out his pockets. Mr. Pink was back, Hayden’s unconscious person slung over his shoulder. Through the thick brush came the sound of a struggle, and some grunting, then another henchman emerged with Ruby, fresh blood running from inside her nose. She pulled against his grip, but only weakly. “Found this one hiding out in the woods.”


Ashton made eye contact with Ruby. He didn’t know what she was thinking, but he needed her attention now. Even if this was just a robbery, it was humiliating. And, if these bozos got picked up by the police and confessed, his top-secret journey would suddenly be very not top-secret.

No one would rob him and threaten him like this. “Hey, what the fuck are you doing?” Ashton stammered. He coughed to clear his voice, then

forced as much con�dence as possible into it. “Who the hell do you think you are?” “What the hell did you just say, little �re�y? Light garbage?” “I am an advisor to the city of Lux Aeterna. You dare try to rob me?” He wanted the leader to

be distracted. A plan started to form in his head. He could use whatever weak magic he had to blind the leader and break the organization of the bandits. He could try to physically subdue the others. He concentrated what magic he could in his hand. The issue was its glow—if the bandits noticed it before he could fully gather his strength. He kept it pressed against his pants leg and tried to keep their attention on his face. If they focused on his words, they might not notice the laser he was charging behind his back.

“You honestly think that you can get away with this? You punks will feel the full might of Kingdom Miami, and by the end of this day, I swear you will never see the light of day again.”

The leader approached Ashton. He grabbed Ashton by his hair and pulled his head backwards. “Honestly, you Light people never cease to amaze me. Even after that war, you still hold onto

your ridiculous pride. I have no intention of letting you live now.” Ashton pulled his arm to face the leader. He expected a major laser to slice into the leader, but

he was rather shocked when he found nothing happened. It felt like he’d release his magic, but not naturally. In fact it felt like he’d lost all of his strength.

Suddenly, a dark whirlpool had formed between the three Water Mages. They were drawn into the center of the pit. It was black and seemed almost endless. The Water Mages all seemed to try to control the �ow of the whirlpool, but it didn’t seem to shift in movement at all. In fact it seemed like they were only getting weaker as they continued.

Finally, Ashton saw the cause of the pool. It was Ruby. She looked �ne for being in a daze. She must’ve been playing it the whole time. She looked directly at Ashton and shot him an annoyed look.

His interpretation was that she wanted him to subdue the bandits, or it could have been possible she was saying he was an idiot. He preferred the former.

Ashton tried to run at them, but fell over. He suddenly felt exhausted. The leader of the bandits was in the center, but had somehow managed to free himself from the whirlpool. The other two bandits were clearly getting weaker. They seemed shocked, confused, like they had no idea what was happening, how their own magic had been turned against them.

Then it struck Ashton. Ruby was a Darkness Mage. Light had been �ghting Darkness for hundreds of years, and were now well versed in their

tricks. The same wasn’t true for these Water bandits.


He realized now why his powers weren’t appearing and why his exhaustion had been so prominent. Ruby had been siphoning o� his powers, or rather, his Light. That had to be addressed later. For now, he was focused on the Water bandit leader gathering himself.

“A goddamn Darkness user out here.” He grinned wildly. “I’m surprised that there are any of you left. You think you can beat me? Motherfucker, I’ve been robbing people for years on this border. You think you can turn my powers against me?”

He began performing a new movement. Suddenly, water from the mud and from the air began to pool together. It soon was large enough to be the size of the van, and the Mage made it form a giant ball �oating in the air. “You may have weakened me, Dark Mage, but I think this will do just �ne in smashing your body.”

The water boulder started to move with his own movements, gaining speed every time he reset his position, until �nally he was about to send it �ying at Ruby. Ashton realized she was compromised, locked in concentration on keeping the whirlpool alive. He was powerless to help her, though, as the Water Mage sent the ball of water rocket towards Ruby. But, right before impact, it exploded in a large splash.

Ashton swung his head back to the lead bandit. Hayden stood behind him, his arm around the brute’s neck. The bandit slowly was struggling against him. Hayden kept his grip with ease. The bandit’s movements slowed and slowed until �nally he went limp in Hayden’s grasp. Then, with gritted teeth, Hayden snapped the man’s neck.

Ashton looked at the others. The whirlpool had stopped moving, but so did the bandits, who were either unconscious or dead. Ashton looked to Hayden, then to Ruby. They were both soaking wet, covered in mud. Ashton’s vision went fuzzy. Then it turned black.

He drifted in and out of consciousness for the next few hours. When he �nally awoke, he saw that he was in the van again. They weren’t moving, but

someone had laid him down in the back. He got up and opened the van door. It was already dark outside. He saw that they were in a small parking lot by a diner.

Ruby and Hayden were sitting together on the concrete. They weren’t talking to each other at all. Ashton looked at Ruby. For a moment he was grateful that she had been able to help them through that, but then his grati�cation suddenly turned to annoyance. He remembered how powerless he had felt. She had dared to use her �lthy, tainted magic to draw from him. The people of the Nox Republic and anyone who had the ability to conjure darkness magic were like leeches. Their power was the power to steal from others, and she had taken from him. Part of him still thought he might’ve had a better chance against the Water Mage when he was so close.

“Ms. Blakely, thank you for helping with that �ght, but I must demand that you never use your magic on me again. I didn’t ask you to use it and I don’t want that magic in my system.”

Ruby didn’t even look up at him, didn’t acknowledge his presence. Instead, she said simply, “You would have died.”

“I would’ve been �ne,” he snapped back. “I had a plan before you intervened.”


“You idiot,” she said softly, seething, refusing to even look at him. “Your hand was glowing like Aurora Borealis. You think they couldn’t see that? He was playing with you. I had to act. Your ‘plan’ would have gotten us killed on the spot.”

Ashton paused at this revelation. His anger had gotten the better of him. He still hated that magic, but couldn’t deny that what Ruby had done was a smart move. He didn’t consider the bandits in the back. He was so concerned about the leader he didn’t realize that they were prepared for any of his tricks. But he was humiliated.

“Thank you, Ruby, but next time I won’t need your help,” he said. Ashton walked back to the van. He still felt exhausted. When he woke up next, he found that they were deep in the Sanctuary of the Holy Mother, a

land �lled with wild vegetation. The van looked far too odd in this environment, and the engine had started sputtering, so they ended up abandoning it, choosing instead to travel on foot. It would be less suspicious that way, anyway.

While they were walking together through this land, Hayden continued to brag about his heroics in the �ght… much to Ashton’s annoyance.


Chapter 12 Ireland — Preparations Ireland awoke to her alarm going o� early in the morning. The sun wasn’t even near rising yet

and the cold morning air drifted lazily across the Institution. She dragged herself out of bed and into the shower, preferring to get over the pain of waking up as quickly as possible. After a few minutes of getting ready, she double checked her backpack and small du�el bag, making sure she had clothes, disguises, and false IDs, along with handheld communicators so she could stay in contact with Maxim. Finding everything to her satisfaction, she locked up her apartment and headed to the center of the city.

On her short walk over, she couldn’t help but think about the events of the last few days. She was sure they all had pieces of the puzzle and she just needed to �gure out the key that would unlock it all. The brisk air and darkness seeped around her and the lack of people milling around made her feel supremely, achingly alone. Not for the �rst time, she caught herself wondering about the what-ifs in life: what if her parents had been around to see her graduate, what if she knew all the answers to the puzzle, what if she failed on this mission?

She could not fail. She could not risk her life. She could not risk Maxim’s life, either. Ireland felt a strange sort of protectiveness towards him; he didn’t ask to be brought into this, and in fact she suspected he didn’t want to be in the program at all, but he showed her friendship last night when she needed someone to talk to. He looked lonely, too. They had each other’s backs.

As she made her way up the steps to the building, she felt herself becoming increasingly curious and angry at her instructor. Why wasn’t he just telling her what was going on? Making a split second decision, Ireland yanked open the heavy oak doors and marched towards his o�ce. It was on the second �oor, three doors away from where she and Maxim had been studying last night. She took the stairs two at a time and was before his door in record time. Quickly realizing that he probably wouldn’t be here at �ve in the morning, she sighed and turned around, planning to go back downstairs to reach her shuttle transport. She stopped herself. She needed answers.

Looking around to make sure that nobody else was on this �oor, she slid on gloves and pulled out her multitool lockpicking set and went to work. After hearing the pins fall into place, she entered slowly, ready for any traps or hidden features. After a few tense seconds, she realized there was nothing of the sort. She crept into the room slowly, watching for anything to disturb again on the ground, but there was no motion at all. Ireland saw a large metal �le cabinet in the corner of the room and decided to start her search there. She slowly opened the top drawer and saw a nearly invisible wire tied to the drawer connected to something in the back. The new spy carefully removed it and opened the drawer fully. Using her �ashlight, she looked in the back of the cabinet to see what the trap was.

Just ink. A large bottle of red pen ink, ready to spray onto the documents and alert her instructor that someone had opened them without his permission. Nothing dangerous or explosive like she had thought. Her instructor always seemed paranoid about these things, and she found herself thrown by the lack of security. There was no time to worry about that now, though. She needed to


hurry and avoid being caught. Ireland quickly perused the names on the �les. Intro classes, practice scenarios, team building exercises. Nothing she was looking for. She carefully replaced the trap and moved to the next one down. Seeing the same wire, she dismantled it as well and looked through the documents. Carla Havensburg, Alex Bard, Clay Jopski, Ireland Glass: these were all the students in her class.

She slowly picked up her own �le. It was surprisingly thin compared to other students, considering the list of things she had accomplished while in the academy. Making sure to keep all the papers in order, she scanned each one for details. Nothing jumped out; it was the usual information of timed assignments, grades on practical exams, strength of wielding ability, and there, hidden in the middle of the folder on an o�cial looking paper: Parents deceased, recommended termination from Spy Academy for treason . The very next paper was a copy of an email her professor sent back stating he would not be removing her from the program due to her natural talent and hard work, but he would be willing to compromise who her handler was, just like he told her. But why would it say treason? She had never done anything to undermine the Neros Institute in her life, and strived to be the best she could for it.

Ireland quickly �ipped through the pages to try and �nd anything else, but that was all. She slipped the �le folder back into its place and rigged the trap as it had been before checking her watch. It was 5:13. Her transport was here in two minutes. Ireland sighed in frustration at her fruitless detour. She gathered her things and slipped out the door, locking it before she went. She �nished just a few seconds before she heard footsteps coming down the hallway, and dashed into the conference room across the hall. The same one that Maxim and her used last night. It was empty of the papers Maxim and her were poring over. With it being such a high stakes mission, they had both decided it would be safer to leave the sensitive documents in Maxim’s o�ce. After the footsteps passed outside, Ireland exited the room and snuck down the stairs, entering the main lobby area just as a car pulled up outside.

She casually walked to the car and slid in the back seat, nonchalantly greeting the driver. To her surprise, however, Maxim was in the front seat.

“How are you this morning?” he asked her. “I’m �ne, Maxim. Ready for the day. How are you?” “I’m well. We need to pair our devices. I also have a small tracking device for you. It will help

me keep an eye on you and help you in the case of an emergency extraction,” he said, handing her the small device no bigger than her thumb nail. It blinked a tiny green light as she held it in her palm. He held up his end of a satellite transmitter and she heard the resounding beeps as hers synced up with his.

“Now we’re ready.” The rumble of the tires over the cobblestone roared in her ears and vibrated deep in her chest.

It was just an 8-minute drive to the outskirts of the city, where the streets opened up into old cracked blacktop. It was painfully silent in the car, and Ireland didn’t want to break the stillness of the early morning drive as the sun started to reach its tendrils above the ground.

As they pulled up to the airport, the driver pointed her to a small private jet. “You’ll be getting on that plane. I’m to tell you that further instructions are on board.”


Ireland nodded her thanks and grabbed her backpack as she stepped out of the car. This was real. She was starting the mission right now. No mistakes could be made. Maxim got out right behind her, dark circles under his eyes more prominent than ever. He looked like he hadn’t slept in a week, but grabbed her second backpack and walked towards the airplane with her.

“I found a few things late last night as I was putting everything in my desk,” he muttered to her, “and it looks like they were purposefully grading you more harshly during training to try and have you removed. It’s lucky you’re as good as you are.”

“I found something too. They tried to have me removed again just before the graduation ceremony on treason charges.”

His face was shocked and then guarded with suspicion. “Treason? What did you—” “I swear,” Ireland replied, “I did absolutely nothing against or to harm the Neros Institute. You

know I wouldn’t. I’ve done everything for our faction.” He pondered this for a minute, eyebrows creased in thought. “I guess it was just another tactic to have you removed.” She nodded and reached for her other backpack as the plane stairs beckoned her. She did one

�nal check of their communication devices and �nally turned back to Maxim. “Stay safe. Don’t do anything too risky. Let me handle that.” For the �rst time, she saw him smile. “I can agree with that.”

She reached out to hug him quickly, and then she went up the steps to begin her job. It was time to put her game face on and uncover the mysteries of the disappearing factions.


Chapter 13 Maxim — The File Search As Maxim watched Ireland board the jet, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of doubt and worry.

Treason? She was the ultimate spy… what if she was double-crossing the Institute? No, no, she wasn’t like that. She seemed just as ba�ed and confused as he was. Could the Institution really have that much of a vendetta against one girl? They were supposed to prize the strongest wielders and those who did their job the best. Ireland should’ve been hailed as a hero. There were so many thoughts �ashing through his mind at once that Maxim couldn’t even begin to understand them all.

“I’ll drop you o� back at the main complex.” The driver interrupted his thoughts. “That’s �ne, thank you.” As he climbed the stone steps, he couldn’t help but feel like there was a big piece of the puzzle

missing from her story. Her parents died in a car accident climbing the mountain to come back home; that was well known to everyone since they were rather high ranking o�cials. Maybe there would be clues in the accident reports? He decided to investigate while Ireland was in the air, before he was needed for any ground connections that she would report back with.

Mind made up, he stopped by his cramped little o�ce and dropped o� his cover paperwork before heading to the basement �le room. It opened its doors to him with a groan, the darkness inside illuminated by pulsing �uorescent lights above. Metal racks of boxes stretched for what looked like 50 yards underground. Dust swirled lightly; these were obviously older, before most of their work had been digitized. Maxim walked through the rows, looking for anything pertaining to Ireland’s parents or anything related to the Congress that Ireland is currently �ying towards. He found one box labelled “Batteries and Auxilifacts” that seemed interesting, but for another time of exploration. He found one small folder on a man named “Lorenzo Dazzle” that he picked up, knowing it was one of the people at the Congress. He also found “Tatyana Cardinale”, and decided to grab it on a whim.

He also stumbled on a box labelled “Finalized”, which seemed odd. There were mostly receipts for payments for various types of government equipment. Equipment from other factions. Hidden at the very bottom was a folder named “H. and E. Glass.” Maxim couldn’t believe it at �rst, but then snatched it up. It was a thin �le, buried beneath others, obviously hidden but not disposed of. Just as he was about to open it and read it, he heard the clicking of heeled shoes coming down the aisle towards him. He shoved the box behind another, slid the thin folder into the rather large collection of “Lorenzo Dazzle” and acted like he was shu�ing them around to carry. The woman approached him.

“Maxim, what are you doing down here? I thought I gave you all the information yesterday.” Her tone was cool, but Maxim could tell there was a tightness in her face.

“Yes, it was all very helpful, but I wanted to see if we had any records on Congress attendees from further back. I actually found some on Lorenzo Dazzle here I’m going to take a look at,” he answered, showing her the bulging �le.

Her face relaxed, and she smiled just a bit. “Good thinking, Maxim. I’ll leave you to it.”


He nodded, then walked around her, back down the aisle, up the stairs, and onto the main level.

Maybe the academy was right, he thought as his body shook from the encounter, I’d be a horrible field agent. Still, the �les were safely in his hands, and he was all set to peruse them in the relative safety of his o�ce.

The woman behind him, however, was glowering in anger away from his sight. She had lightly probed his mind and didn’t like what she had found. As Maxim disappeared onto the main �oor, she pulled out a phone and quickly punched in a number. As the person on the other end picked up, she lifted the receiver to her mouth and said, “Tatyanna, Maxim found the �le.”


Chapter 14 Eleanor — Protector Ruth lay in her hospital bed, unable to move, staring at the ceiling, tears �lling her eyes.

Eleanor hated to see her baby sister like this, in so much pain, but her mother had disappeared hours ago. Probably to ‘relieve her pain’ with some sort of drug, anything that could numb her body and make herself less sane. Eleanor had to be the strong one. For Ruth.

Eleanor tried to uncurl her body from the cramped position in the tiny armchair next to the bed.

“Ruth? You want to talk about it yet?” Eleanor’s sister had been silent since she had woken up after her surgery. Ruth shook her head and tried to roll over carefully, not wanting to tangle all the wires and tubes connected to her body.

Eleanor sighed and stood up, brushing her sweaty palms on her pajama pants. She wished she could do something for her sister, but nothing could erase the hurt Ruth was feeling.

“I’m going to try to �nd you some food other than this crap.” Eleanor wrinkled her nose at the cup of electric green jello on the bed tray. “Something healthier. With fewer animal products.”

When Ruth didn’t answer, Eleanor pushed the hair out of her sister’s face gently, and then she leaned down to kiss her forehead. Ruth, obviously still awake despite her now closed eyes, wrinkled her nose angrily.

Walking down the hallway hospital felt weird for Eleanor. Normally, she was able to avoid these sorts of places, but it sucked when someone was so hurt that she couldn’t bring life back to them. Hospitals in the Holy Sanctuary of the Mother had, unsurprisingly, the highest survival rates of any in the world, but even Life couldn’t save everyone. Most people thought the Mother would protect those who were still needed in the Garden, but Eleanor never saw the Mother here suiting up in surgical gloves and a mask. That’s why she was studying to be a surgeon. To get over her fear of hospitals and save lives. To do good.

The last time she had been in a hospital, she had still been in high school and her mother had overdosed before she came home for the day. Normally she was able to save her, but she hadn’t been home to watch her mother that time.

Eleanor took a deep breath and she felt the life forces pulsing in each room she passed. Some had a lot of strong ones and one much weaker, with the sounds of visitation. Others only hosted lonesome weak signals. They were �ashing in and out, holding onto life, trying to keep going, keep breathing, keep living. Being able to feel all this only made Eleanor want to cry.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry!” Something warm tickled down Eleanor’s sweatshirt, seeping through her clothes and down her thin pants.

Eleanor wrinkled her nose in disgust, an expression not unlike Ruth’s expression a few minutes ago, but she looked up to see a girl in scrubs and a distressed expression.


“Oh my god,” the girl cried again, reaching for a roll of paper towels on the nurses station next to her. “Oh my god.” Her curly, brown ponytail whipped around as she ripped a few of the towels free and began to pat down Eleanor’s top.

“It’s okay,” Eleanor waved her hands in front of her, trying to take the towels from the girl and dry her own shirt. “I can do that myself.”

Once she realized what she was doing, the girl widened her eyes and relinquished the towels. “I am so sorry, I am making such a fool of myself!” “It’s really okay,” Eleanor smiled, patting her sweatshirt carefully. The doctor was kind of

pretty, she realized. She had big, brown doe eyes, the kind of brown that wasn’t plain and normal but deep and rich and intense. She had overdrawn freckles and lips so pink she could have been a princess.

“Let me buy you a co�ee to make it up to you.” The girl o�ered, smiling back at Eleanor. “Okay,” she nodded. “I don’t drink co�ee, but you could buy me a peppermint tea?” “Deal.”

The doctor, whose name was Penny, turned out to be a surgical intern in the same program that Eleanor was hoping to join.

“It’s a great program,” Penny stressed, drinking from a new cup of co�ee that had not been poured down Eleanor’s front. “And if you come here,” she laughed, “you’ll already know someone in the residency program!”

Eleanor smiled too, but she didn’t know how optimistic she felt about joining the program. “Who knows what’ll happen in the next few months anyways? With Darkness missing and the Congress...”

Penny grimaced and sipped her co�ee. “I suppose. But shouldn’t we just look on the bright side? Hope that some good comes out of this crappy situation? Maybe the Faction leaders will �nally learn to work together.”

“I guess.” Eleanor shrugged. People chatted around the co�ee cart in the hospital lobby, some happy and some sad, all

loud enough to �ll the vaulted space with noise. “You don’t think everything is going to work out?” Penny’s wide, cartoon eyes focused on

Eleanor. “I don’t know. All I know is that I’m here right now because I didn’t take care of my family. I

didn’t protect them like I’m supposed to.” Eleanor laughed sardonically to herself. Penny didn’t laugh. Her eyes glimmered with a familiar pain. “I understand why you feel that way,” she said. She set her co�ee on the table and leaned

forward, setting her hands gently on top of Eleanor’s. Eleanor felt a pleasant chill run down her spine, but pushed away the feeling. “I have a younger brother, Herbert. He’s nine years younger than me, and growing up I always thought it was my job to be his protector. So whenever I found out he was going to a party, or playing around with alcohol or drugs, or anything like that, I’d race to tell my mom, and he’d get in trouble. He always talked about how frustrating that was for him—that I wasn’t his mom,


and stu�—and he started talking with me less and less and avoiding me. And then one night one of his friend’s older brothers told me that he’s going to some crazy party at this crack house in my town, and I confronted him about it, and he said that he wasn’t even invited…” Penny took a deep breath to settle herself a bit. “I guess he was just so mad that I was always bossing him around, so he waited until we were all asleep, then snuck out.” She paused again, then looked to the �oor. “Someone hurt him at that party,” she said softly, and Eleanor could see moisture in the corners of her eyes. “He only went because I told him not to. Sometimes being a protector back�res on the people you love. And being a protector isn’t your job.”

The words stung. Maybe with truth, or maybe just with ignorance. Eleanor was Ruth’s protector.

“You don’t understand.” Eleanor scowled. The tea in her hands was growing cold as the women sat there talking, and she had not yet begun to drink it.

“I didn’t mean—” Eleanor stood up and dumped her cup in the trash. “I should go. Thanks for the tea.” “Yeah, of course. Maybe I’ll see you around?” By the time Penny stood, Eleanor had already

strode away down the hall, lost in her thoughts.

When her mother had returned to the hospital, Eleanor left, claiming she needed to take a shower.

“I won’t be long,” she had whispered, kissing the top of her sister’s head. Now at home, Eleanor threw all the clean clothes she could �nd into a backpack, adding

whatever random food was lying around and as many bottles of water as she could carry. She had to get away, there was no other choice. Penny was right. She couldn’t protect her sister.

That was her mother’s job. And as long as she stayed around, her mother wouldn’t step up. Eleanor was a destructive force to her family. There was only pain and hurt and danger in this situation.

With the world self-destructing like this, Eleanor couldn’t take any chances. She had seen all of the dead plants when she came home from the hospital. She didn’t like that she couldn’t �nd the cat. If she couldn’t protect her family, what was she even doing?

She swung the door open hard, letting it bang idly against the wall when she left. She wasn’t coming back. She couldn’t come back.

Her phone beeped with a text as she walked purposefully across the lawn, long strides and quick pace setting the tone for her journey.

Mother: Could you bring Ruth a book or something when you come back?

Tears started to �ll Eleanor’s eyes, but she tried to sti�e them quickly and deepened her breathing. She threw her phone into the depths of her bag, not wanting to think about how she was abandoning her sister. Leaving her alone.


Staying won’t do her any good anyways, Eleanor tried to reason with herself. At least this way she won’t be constantly disappointed in me .

She sighed and made her way to the woods on the outskirts of town, brushing past the grimey, disgusting people trying to sell her things at the street market. She had to get out of here. She had to get away from it all. Maybe running away was a stupid, immature thing for a 24 year-old med student from a small town in New York, but she couldn’t take it.

She could stand the feeling that she was letting everyone (including herself) down. So instead, she ran.


Chapter 15 Rane — Wet Towel and Flower Boy Shirking his so-called responsibilities was probably the best idea that Rane ever had. Sure, it

was a hassle at �rst, avoiding his father’s calls and what could have been too many text messages to count, but it seemed like after a few days, the constant bombardment had stopped. That is, Rane had taken a rock to his phone and thrown the remains in the river. But, even now, he couldn’t escape the man; every television in every bar seemed to be tuned into the Congressional proceedings, and his father was the star of the show. He would see a medium shot of his father rambling political nonsense a few times a day through a practiced smile, his eyes locked onto the camera, onto the people at home, not the others in the room with him.

Well, he was gone, and Rane was having the time of his life. He brought enough money to last him a while. This was a very last-minute decision after all, so he would have to get some type of job soon. There was nothing for him to worry about other than that. No one ranting to him about politics or about how he was a degenerate for having an “unsustainable” job. Bartending was totally a sustainable job!

Rane would probably never set foot in that bar again. He was in a new faction now—The Sanctuary of the Holy Mother. There were de�nitely some culture clashes along the way. People constantly praised “The Mother”, even in the simplest of conversations. Although Rane’s father was an esteemed, worldly politician, Rane still had no idea what that meant. There was also the lack of Greys and pretty much any type of diversity in the magic area. He knew that his hometown, Charlotte, was known for its large Grey population, but here there were virtually none. It always smelled like… nature. Charlotte was mostly made of concrete, so it was de�nitely a change of pace. There always seemed to be at least one person talking to a bird or squirrel or some other type of small animal as if they were another person. While that weirded him out a little, he couldn’t really judge.

To put some distance between himself and where his driver had dropped him o�, Rane had spent the last week hitchhiking north, sleeping in strangers’ cars and, at least once, on a park bench. He probably looked homeless by now, but so did half the people in this faction, so he didn’t mind it much. Now, in Spring�eld, he �nally pulled out his wallet to settle in, renting out a hotel room for the rest of the month (in untraceable cash, of course—he had spent the last week trading Loch currency for Holy Sanctuary currency). He showered and traded out his soiled clothes.

Then came the fun part: drinking! On his way in, Rane saw a few bars along the streets. There weren’t as many as there were back home, but something was better than nothing, right? He made his way outside once it became dark. While he had yet to make any friends, he really didn’t want to make any to begin with, so when he got to the bar called “Granola Bar,” he didn’t mind the strange looks or cared that he might’ve looked like a loser by drinking alone. Once he sat down on a stool, a bartender came up to him as if they were in a movie; cleaning the inside of a beer mug with a semi-wet cloth. By the nametag on his shirt, Rane came to the conclusion that his name was Koa.


“Can I get you anything, sir?” he asked with the classic nonchalant attitude that most bartenders seemed to have, the same attitude Rane had perfected during his own stint at the job.

“Give me whatever beer’s on tap, please.” Rane said. Koa nodded and �lled the same beer mug he’d been carrying with “beer.” It wasn’t the �rst time he had a beer, but this one was di�erent. It tasted of sponge and

pesticide, burning his throat. Rane couldn’t get it down. He choked. Beer sprayed out across the bar in front of him. Rane �ailed around for a napkin and started to clean up the mess. In his stein, the beer was...green? Furrowing his brow, Rane glanced over at the bartender with a slightly confused look, only to get a look back of equal confusion.

“Are you alright, sir?” Koa asked. Now wasn’t quite the right time to start a con�ict, especially since he noticed his �t had

attracted some attention from others at the bar. He wasn’t there to cause trouble, so he nodded and went in for another sip, and almost immediately gagged a little, his face matching the color of the beer. What the hell was in it?! There was a terrible taste to it, but he couldn’t exactly pinpoint it. Koa gave him a strange look.

“Is there a problem here, sir?” Koa questioned. The look on his face seemed to imply he was going to start chuckling the moment Rane responded. He knew what was wrong, but wanted to hear Rane say it for himself.

If he was back home, the look alone would’ve started a brawl, and he could feel the anger bubbling up inside him, but he tried to keep his cool.

“Um, would you mind telling me what’s in here? It tastes like straight up—” “Grass? It's wheatgrass beer sir, that’s the only kind we serve here,” Koa said. He was

attempting to hold back his laughter but was doing a terrible job at it. At that point, Rane didn’t know what was making his stomach hurt more, the anger in the pit

of it or the actual wheatgrass. Who puts grass in beer?! The thought alone managed to make his fuse just a bit shorter.

“Would you rather I get you some—” “No.” It was easy to see the Rane was beginning to get a little angsty, so Koa decided to leave

him alone for a bit. He looked at the green concoction again, taking a deep sigh before deciding to just chug it

down so that he could get it over with. With a look of disgust on his face, he downed the entire mug without stopping. It tasted disgusting, but if he was going to make his life in the Life Faction, he would have to get used to these things. The sound of the door distracted him from the overly bitter taste of grass. He sucked his teeth a little as if he had a blade of grass in between them. At that moment, three odd looking people not from the Life Faction entered the bar, pulling the attention o� of him. They sat down at a booth not far from him. Out of sheer boredom, he listened in on their conversation. They were talking about something serious, but before he could grab enough context to �gure out the topic, he was distracted by a man suddenly pushing into him.


“Hey, you wet towel! Your kind ain’t welcome here.” Some random man, obviously drunk, made an e�ort to push Rane aside, but was too drunk to do much. Rane’s fuse was getting shorter by the second.

“Can I help you?” “Yeah! You can go on back to where you came from!” “What did you say to me, �ower boy?” Rane asked, turning around in his stool to face the

drunk, only to be met with a �st the second he did. That was it. The short fuse was set o�, and while Rane’s head was recoiling from the blow, his

rage boiled over. Next thing he knew he caused the water tap behind the bar to rumble. Koa looked at it with

concern, and backed away. Then it broke. Rane pulled the water out and shaped it into a �st, then slammed that �st into the drunk. After that, much of it was a blur of blind rage. The room exploded into a good old fashioned bar �ght. Everyone joined in on the �ght, swinging �sts at whoever was in arm’s reach.

In the midst of all the �ghting, those same three suspicious, serious-conversation Mages ended up getting involved. But Rane was soon knocked out cold, and everything went black. All he wanted was a cold beer.


Chapter 16 Ruby — The Surprising Encounter “Try throwing more water over his head,” said Ashton. “No, that will just make him even more pissed o� when he wakes up,” said Ruby. The three

travelers sat on the curb outside of the bar in which they had just witnessed the �ght go down. It was late, and getting cold, or rather what Ruby would describe as cold. Living in Kingdom Miami meant 80 degree weather constantly. Anything under 60 might as well be freezing, especially when wearing shorts.

Before them lay a Water Mage, unconscious, bruised, and surrounded by a puddle of water. That is to say, the Mage’s own water, combined with a bucket of water Ashton threw over him to get him to wake up. Brilliant.

“He’s lucky we saved his ass. He was getting the shit beat out of him,” said Ashton. “That he was.” “They must not be very welcoming to people of other factions here. We should get out as soon

as possible,” said Hayden. “Don’t you want to make sure this guy is okay?” “I guess.” The stranger eventually came to. He groggily emitted a groan as he sat up and looked at the

three strangers in front of him. “Wha—who the fuck are you?” asked the stranger. “We saw you getting the living daylights beat out of you in the bar and carried you away,”

answered Hayden smugly. “What about the asshole that assaulted me?” “Oh, we took care of him,” said Ruby, smiling. “Great.” He lay back down, and almost immediately sat back up. “Hey, how the hell did the

three of you end up at the bar anyway?” Ruby and Ashton looked at each other. How were they supposed to cover up their intentions

for traveling through the Life Faction? “What do you mean?” “What I mean is—ouch—” He �inched. “You’re obviously outsiders. Two Light Mages and a

Darkness Mage in the Sanctuary of the Holy Mother? And I thought I didn’t �t in here.” Ruby looked over at Ashton and Hayden. She began a sentence but soon realized she hadn’t

planned how to �nish it. “We’re… lost. We’re trying to get to, uh, Stratos, the Air Faction, but we got lost and were

hoping someone could point us in the right direction?” Ruby stuttered. “Right.” The Water Mage gave her a curious look. “Well, I guess I might as well introduce

myself since you went ahead and kidnapped me. I’m Rane Manolis. It’s a pleasure to meet all of you.


I’ll have you know that you are nowhere near Stratos, if that’s really where you’re trying to go. You took a wrong turn about 200 miles ago.”

“Wait,” said Ashton. “You’re Rane Manolis, son of Lothan Manolis?” Rane Manolis sco�ed. “I knew one of you would pick up on that.” Ruby gave him a look. “You have no right to ask us what our business here is. The son of the

Water Faction’s most well-known politician, 30 miles from the border of the Nox Republic?” “Oh, so you’re not lost!” Ruby looked down. Dumbass. “I don’t care if you’re headed to the Nox Republic, guys. You’re not the only ones trying to get

into Saint Paul. In fact, I could use a ride there.” Ruby was quick to jump in. “We really don’t have any more room in the va—” Hayden interrupted her. “Of course we’ll take you!”

The next hour in the van was mostly uneventful. The travelers, four of them now, didn’t talk much. Ruby felt a knot growing and tangling in her stomach as they started seeing signs on the side of the road.

Nox Republic: 33 Miles Then, after another 40 minutes of driving: Nox Republic: Next Exit . “Well, we’re almost there, at least,” said Hayden. Rane, who was sleeping o� his injuries in the back seat, suddenly awoke. Or maybe he was

awake the whole time. “You guys didn’t do your research, did you?” “Uhh...yeah, we did research,” said Ashton, “The capital is Saint Paul. Their currency is the

Nox Dollar. They’re governed by President Fitzgerald.” “I don’t mean that. I mean about the exclusion zone. They’re watching every road into that

city. The Congress put out an order and got a bunch of Fire Mages making sure no one goes in and gets hurt, or screws around with evidence while they’re investigating.”

“I know about the exclusion zone,” Ashton snapped. “Stupid that they care about us going into the city. It’s empty. A ghost town. No survivors.”

“You said there were survivors, Ashton,” said Ruby, reminding Ashton of the purpose of their trip. “Like my mother?”

“Well… besides those ones,” replied Ashton, almost a little too quickly. Ruby furrowed her brow and looked back down at her cell phone. There was no service.

“Well, as far as I know, there are indeed no survivors,” said Rane. “But that doesn’t mean the evil magic that killed them isn’t still lingering in the city.”

“Like leftover decay?” asked Ruby. “I suppose.” “Hey guys, look ahead,” interjected Hayden. Ruby turned her attention to what lay before her.


She saw the skyline of her own city, the peaks of a hundred skyscrapers clustered in a tight bundle on the Mississippi, surrounded by many miles of farms and �elds, peeking over the horizon. It was home she grew up in and spent most of her life in. She felt a pang of nostalgia, followed by a pang of fear as she realized what stood between them and that city.

“Pull over,” Ruby said. “Let’s scout it out before we go any closer.”

A checkpoint. And guards. No, not guards—soldiers. And not a checkpoint, really. It was more of a military base.

Hundreds upon hundreds of Fire Mages standing vigil as far around the border as she could see. A shiver went up her spine. It must have been dangerous within the borders, she thought. How were they going to get through them?

“It looks like Pyre sent the whole army to guard this city,” said Hayden. “You think the perimeter reaches all the way to the north?”

“More than likely,” Rane said. “I’ll bet they’ve got patrols, too. The longer we stay out here, the more likely we are to be spotted. We should act now.”

Every few hundred yards stood a metal tower, held up by metal cables, with Mages perched in each. “There’s no way we’re getting in without a �ght,” she muttered.

Hayden turned o� the engine and pocketed the keys. “If we get in a �ght, there’s no way we’re getting out alive. We have to stealth our way through.”

Ruby pointed to the chain-link fence that stretched across the border. “That thing will trip the moment we try. We need to force our way through,” Ruby said.

“Do that, and we’ll have every Fire Mage on that perimeter on our ass. Ashton and I are talented Light Mages, but even we won’t be able to shield against all of that.”

“Then what’s your brilliant plan?” Ruby snapped. She couldn’t help herself from shaking, knowing that she was so close to where her parents might be.

Rane was silently looking up and down the perimeter. “Alright. I’ve got a plan, but we’ll need to be quick.” Everyone stopped to look at Rane in surprise. “I’ve got some water here. It’s impure enough that it’ll conduct electricity just �ne, meaning we can trigger a false alarm along the fence. That means we’ll be able to draw a bunch of guards to exactly where we need them to be.”

“And then what? Just because they’ll be in one place doesn’t mean we can just waltz past them, they’ll be looking all around,” Ashton interjected.

“The second part of the plan,” Rane continued, ignoring him, “requires that we dig a deep hole, right where the false alarm happened. Any guard seeing that would assume the same thing…”

“That some idiot tried to dig under and tripped the fence,” Ruby murmured. “Exactly. And right when they’re all focused on the ground—” Rane moved his hands to

imitate a ski jumper “—we’ll �y right overhead.” “And how will we do that?” Ruby asked. “Just do your sucky suck thing, you’ll have plenty of Fire Mages in close proximity.” “Please don’t call it that.”


Ashton scowled and turned to Hayden. “What do you think?” Hayden sighed. “It’ll buy us a couple seconds, but as soon as we land on the ground, they’ll be

after us, you know that, right?” Ruby looked at the skyscrapers in the distance. She could practically point out the area where

her home would be. “Let’s do it,” she said sternly. Rane only nearly stopped himself from clapping his hands together loudly. “Once we get far

enough into the exclusion zone, those soldiers will give up the chase. The whole reason they set up this perimeter was because they felt it was too dangerous for anyone to go in.”

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Ashton grumbled as he placed his hands on the ground. Hayden hastily put a blanket on top when his hands began to glow, and the whining of energy started to seep through, accompanied by the sound of burning dirt. “How deep?” he said through gritted teeth.

“Three feet should be plenty, try to make it curve,” Rane said as he withdrew the water from his satchel. It �oated gently and weightlessly in the air. Ruby glanced over in surprise while she slowly siphoned Fire magic from a nearby guard. For being a little younger, he was rather gifted with Water magic. “That’s good,” Rane said.

Ashton stumbled backwards, breathing heavily. “Light magic wasn’t really meant for this,” he gasped as he regrouped with the others on top of Hayden’s half-formed and incredibly dim sled made of Light magic. The sled held their entire group, but only barely. Ruby positioned her hands behind them. She had never used absorbed Fire magic as boosters before, but this was probably not the best time to mention that to everyone.

The group breathed in unison for a moment. They had to act fast or they would be utterly obliterated by a torrent of magic. “Ready?” Rane said breathlessly.

Ruby had never been in war. There hadn’t been a major one for a long time, but it seemed like this would be the closest she’d ever get. “Ready,” she replied.

The water connected to the electric fence, and a visible bolt of electricity jumped to the ground. Almost instantly, bright red lights began to �ash, and a siren began wailing. Guards shouted as they ran towards the site of the breach. As the guards approached, their backs turned to the tall brush that concealed the four, Hayden began to strengthen the light sled in earnest, and the ground beneath them began to glow. The small hill they were on was enough to barely conceal them, and hopefully enough to ramp them above the fence. Ruby could feel the magic of the guards as they �ooded to the fake hole. Every magic had a unique sense to it. Fire in this instance felt as though Ruby was injecting lava into her own veins, but it didn’t hurt. It felt warm and free. One of the guards seemed to buckle for a second. Ruby could tell it was almost time to move, she just a little longer till she was ready.

One guard in the front pointed to the hole in the ground, and just as the other guards glanced downward, Ruby then let loose all the Fire magic she had built up. Two �ames burst forth, spewing black smoke and ash. The sled rocketed forward. It shook wildly from side to side, the light magic threatening to break apart from the strain. With a spray of dirt and mud, it launched o� the hill at an awkward angle, the bottom of it just catching on the barbed wire top of the fence. With a lurch, the


whole sled was sent spinning by the �re that was still bursting forward, and the four were sent �ying onto the ground as the sled shattered in midair.

Rane hit the ground hard, badly spraining his ankle, but he seemed to hardly even notice. If anything, he looked almost excited. A large whip of water came crashing down, but with a deft �urry of his arms, it was redirected to the side. Ashton inhaled sharply as he put up another shield of light, this one over their heads. Fire, water, and light all bashed against the light barrier. Ashton, despite all his self praising, seemed to be holding up.

“Let’s move!” Ruby shouted. She had to admit, their ragtag group had honestly surprised her. They had managed to make their way across one of the most heavily forti�ed borders in the history of the continent, and each person was pulling more of their weight than she had ever expected. However, the most surprising of the group was Hayden. He shot precise points of light into opposing guards. They screamed in agony as their bodies were pierced and burnt in seconds. His face was deathly cool.

They were halfway through the run. Ruby was trying to consume as much as possible from the surrounding guards. Many fell on the spot. A bene�t of being a Darkness Mage was that many opposing Mages didn’t know how to combat their magic. Ruby saw someone in their group start to stumble, and instinctively caught them. Ashton was breathing much heavier than before and was pouring sweat. Drilling through the ground earlier had clearly worn him out more than he was willing to admit. Just a bit further, and the guards would start backing o� for fear of their own safety. Rane cursed under his breath as his reserves of water ran out. Just a bit further.

The moment she thought this, one section of the barrier broke. A guard shot a torrent of �ames into the breaking point. It hit Hayden, causing him to stumble and fall to the ground. The three stopped in their tracks, looking backwards in panic at Hayden as well as the swarm of guards still on their tail. “Hayden!” Ashton shouted.

“Don’t look back!” Hayden shouted. “You keep climbing, Ashton. For me.” An arm of water from one of the guards engulfed Hayden as he put up a large barrier of light between the three and him.

“Ashton?” Rane said as the guards got closer. “Let’s go. Let’s go!” Ashton said, turning his back on the guards. They were already near the

entrance to the city. The light barrier had almost disappeared completely. Rane, however, covered their backs with a water wall that absorbed most of the oncoming magic. Finally they reached the city, and all incoming magic had stopped.

Ducking into a building, the remaining three members of the group stopped to catch their breath. Ruby immediately regretted doing that.

The smell was awful, like rotting �sh, or sewage, or… She saw it. There, behind the counter, a man. Or what was left of him. His skin, as well as his

�esh, was black, raw, oozing. It hung from his body in loose, gummy sacks. The white of his skull peeked through that mess of �eshy goo. She covered her mouth to stop herself from screaming.

Ashton threw a sheet over the corpse.


“Don’t look at that,” he said. She pulled her shirt up over her nose to block the stench. “Think about something else.”

“They got Hayden,” said Ruby. “Yeah, but I’m glad we’re alive.” “What do you think’s gonna happen to your friend?” “‘Friend’ is a stretch,” Ashton shrugged. “God, you are such a dick sometimes, if it weren’t for the fact that my mother is alive

somewhere in this city, I wouldn’t have ever agreed to travel with you.” Rane butted in. “Ruby, how did your mother manage to survive this? Do you see that guy?” “I don’t know. He told me that he heard she was alive,” said Ruby, nodding over to Ashton. “Ashton, who did you hear that from? There aren’t any survivors, we’ve already discussed this.” Ashton looked at Rane, and then to Ruby, and then to the ground. “I, uh, forget his name. He

told me there was a group of survivors.” He nodded quickly, to reassure the other two, but it looked like he was just trying to reassure himself.

“I swear, Ashton, if you lied to me—” Rane calmly interjected, realizing Ruby’s temper was growing short. “Ruby, I might be wrong.

Maybe there is still a chance that she is alive. Ashton and I can scope out the city. Why don’t you go to your house?”

Ruby reluctantly agreed. For the �rst time, she looked at the landscape around her. During the chase, she had been

distracted, but now, through the window, she could see that, at least on this street, it looked...normal. She had expected that the city might look destroyed, or bombed-out, like some

post-apocalyptic wasteland, but apart from the strange emptiness of the streets, and some minor overgrowth of the grass in the divider in the road, it was all quite ordinary.

She pushed open the door and moved outside. It was quiet, but then again, this city often was. People didn’t go outside much. But this time, it seemed to be too quiet.

She wasn’t far from her house. Thirty minutes, but she drifted through the city like a feather, her eyes unfocused, unwilling to acknowledge the bodies littered here and there on the road, her nose covered by her pinched �ngers to keep out that wretched smell…

And then she was there. As she walked down her street, she looked up into the apartment she grew up in. Third �oor, above a bakery. The window on the bakery’s storefront was shattered, and it looked like it had been looted. Ruby didn’t know who could’ve raided it. Survivors, maybe? Perhaps there really was hope that her mother was alive.

Going up the stairs, Ruby felt the air being sucked out of her lungs, and not because her apartment was on the seventh �oor of the building. She felt a creeping sense of dread that she just couldn’t shake. She heard a voice within her, calling out desperately:

Go back, you shouldn’t have come here, go back before it’s too late , it pleaded. She ignored it and continued climbing the stairs, her feet slowly turning to lead with every step she took.


She approached her door. Apartment 706. Home of the Blakelys. Ruby reached into her small bag and pulled out a key she hadn’t used in many years. The door slowly creaked open as she tiptoed inside.

The living room was empty, as was the kitchen. Nothing appeared to be out of place, aside from a thick layer of dust coating every surface. She knew what was to come. Ruby entered her bedroom and felt herself being transported back into the past. Back into elementary school, when her powers �rst came to her. Back into middle school, and her �rst kiss with James Horan. Back into high school, and the gnawing urge to leave home and never return again. Why did she leave and never return again? She could have prevented these horrors from happening, she could have saved everyone’s lives, she could have spent quality time with her family and her friends from back home before they all di—

She couldn’t even say the word. Ruby almost didn’t enter her parents’ bedroom, partially out of fear, but more so out of

respect. She almost didn’t open the door, and she almost didn’t look inside, and she almost didn’t throw up all over the �oor, and she almost didn’t cry over the bodies of the �rst people she ever knew or loved.

But she did enter the bedroom, and she did do all these things. And when she ran out of the building, she could’ve sworn she left her soul behind in her parents’ bedroom. But she didn’t need her soul for what she was about to do. In fact, it would be better for her to be without feeling. She was going to make Ashton regret ever bringing her on this god-forsaken trip.

She encountered Ashton and Rane in the middle of one of the main streets. Usually bustling with taxis, it was now silent. Crashed cars littering the streets, corpses rotting all around. The only life existed in the two individuals standing about a couple hundred feet away from her. She could barely see them. She yelled out.

“Hey, Ruby! What’s going on?” Called out Ashton. “She’s dead!” spat Ruby, slowly walking toward them. “And don’t you fucking pretend you

didn’t know that!” As she neared them, she began to see the expression on Ashton’s face growing ever more

worried, and Rane’s face growing frightened. Of course, he didn’t know what was going on. She began to explain.

“That man you’re standing next to, Mr. Manolis, is a damned liar. He brought me here saying he knew my mother was alive. And I didn’t believe him ! But I let myself go, just out of pure hope that my own mother might have not been murdered,” she spat.

Ashton said nothing. “Why did you bring me here, Ashton?” “The jig is up I guess. I only brought you because Hayden wanted you. To this day I have no

idea what his ulterior motives were. Probably he wanted someone to witness his achievements. His ego is— was massive. Frankly, I detest the darkness faction people, but having one seemed smart when we weren’t sure why everyone died. Maybe only you would’ve reacted to the area due to the Darkness magic. Then I could know if this was based on your magic type.”


He paused, opening his arms as if to o�er welcome. “You may hate me, Ms. Blakely, but it was for the greater good. This whole private investigation was so that we could understand the events, and to prevent any other catastrophe.”

Ruby laughed in disbelief. “That’s bullshit. You don’t give a �ying fuck about the welfare of other people. I’ll even bet you’re working against King Dazzle.”

“Ha. Cry me a river. You realize how massive this event is. It poses a threat to every damn faction. The Kingdom of Miami may have been the next target. While you may hate me for lying and consider me nothing more than a bug. I promise you my loyalty to the Kingdom of Miami will never be in question. I’m sorry your parents died, but we all have greater concerns.”

Ruby shook her head and opened her mouth, ready to speak her mind to Ashton. She’d even use her powers if she wasn’t so drained. She just wanted to go home.

“Shut up. We have to get moving. I don’t know if they have patrols running, but I’d rather not �nd out.”

“So what’s your plan now, Ashton?” she asked mockingly. “You’ve made it. You’re in Saint Paul. What did you learn? They’re all dead, just like the government fucking told you.”

“Shh,” Rane hissed. Ruby turned to him now, ready to unleash her anger on this new target, but he wasn’t looking at her. His eyes were focused on something in the distance. She tracked his gaze.

It was another person, and unlike all the others, she was alive. Her breath was labored, and she was covered in soot and what looked like dried blood. She wasn’t �fty feet away, and she was walking toward them. Ruby held her breath.

“What is that?” whispered Ashton. “It looks like a young woman,” said Ruby. “No, I meant, what is that? She doesn’t look like a Dark Mage. She looks...paler.” He was right.

The girl was pale and gaunt, with long, gnarled blonde hair. “She’s Decay,” said Rane. Ruby heard him swallow. He seemed afraid. “You,” said the girl. She sounded younger than Ruby, but she wasn’t a child. Still, it was hard

to tell by how tattered she looked. “Help me.” She smiled a horrible, crooked smile. Ruby tried to back away to escape the Decay Mage before her, but she felt herself slowing

down the further away she walked, as if her organs were shutting down. It wasn’t just her magic being sucked away. It was her life force. She felt the light escape from behind her eyes.


Chapter 17 Ireland — Touching Down in Moh

Ireland stared out of the window, bored out of her mind. Before they touched down in the People’s Nation of Stratos, they were going to touch down in the Moh Empire, to pick up an important person for the congress. As far as Ireland knew, this person was going to brief her on exactly what will be going down at the congress. She gazed out across the thin clouds. What was the People’s Nation of Stratos going to be like? Would it be as diverse as her textbooks promised? According to the many sources that the Nero’s Institute had their students read, the People’s Nation of Stratos was severely a�ected by the war, and thus decided to attempt to destroy all forms of prejudice. Ireland couldn’t wait to �nd out the truth.

Suddenly, the plane dipped down, indicating to Ireland that they were �nally at the Moh Empire. Ireland quickly tugged on her belt, ensuring she was safely secured as the plane went through its landing sequence. This was all new to her, as she has never left the Nero’s Institute before. This was her �rst �eld experience, and it is an extremely important mission for her to not mess up on. But Ireland wasn’t �rst in her class for nothing.

The plane shuddered as it landed in the Moh Empire. The pilot turned and gave her a look. Stay on the plane. Ireland nodded when she probed his mind. That’s understandable. The Moh Empire was a

strength-based nation, and while Ireland was fast and agile, she wasn’t particularly strong. It was better to stay on the plane. She drummed her �ngers on the edge of her seat, adrenaline slowly building in anticipation for her assignment in full detail. Who would she be focusing on? What was her cover? Ireland couldn’t wait.

The door to the plane swung open, and Ireland spun in her seat quickly, gazing at the door. Standing in the doorway was an elderly lady, with lined wrinkles etched in her face. She reminded Ireland of an aged stone, graying with time. Ireland quickly unbuckled and thrust her hand out.

“I’m Ireland G — .” “Glass, I know. I’m familiar with your parent’s treachery. I’m Lena, the defense coordinator for

the Moh Empire.” Ireland’s hand shrunk back, uncertain. Then, after a moment, she recalled the chancellor’s

welcome speech at her pairing ceremony. “You’re…” “Ah, I’m glad my reputation precedes me. Yes, I am a graduate of Nero’s as well. I’ve been in

deep cover for many decades here in Moh. Nobody has yet to suspect a thing.” Ireland was extremely confused. “But if you’re from the mind faction, how could the Moh Empire allow an outsider to climb

the ranks so quickly? They focus on strength of power, not strength of mind...WHOA!”


Suddenly, Ireland was hanging upside down, with her hair forming a curtain around her. Lena was apparently a rare type of mind mage, the type that can use telekinesis in addition to telepathy.

“It is extremely easy to lift rocks if you can lift anything with your mind,” Lena said, a smirk etched across her face. “It also helps that I have ancestry of earth mages in my bloodline at some point. I can manipulate small pebbles, but in the Moh Empire, I mostly relied on my telekinesis, and worked my way from there. Among all of the factions, Nero’s has a large amount of Moh information, thanks mostly to me.”

Ireland’s blood was beginning to �ood her face. “That’s great and all, but could you put me down? I am starting to feel a bit dizzy.” With a thump, Ireland fell in a lump on the ground. “Because I am the defense coordinator, I am able to join the congress in addition to Brigette.

However, Brigette is the only one allowed to voice her opinions in the congress, I am meant to just observe.”

“But what about me?” Ireland asked, rubbing her head carefully. “You’re going to be my granddaughter who I just hired to be my assistant. While I sit and

observe, I want you to use your telepathy and gain as much insight on the members of the congress as you can. There’s a rumor that the batteries are going missing. Tatyanna wants to know how many batteries are actually missing.”

Ireland brought her hand to her mouth and started chewing on her nail. “What are these batteries, exactly?” Ireland had just met this woman who’d bombarded her by

saying she knew of her parent’s treachery. Which Ireland herself did not even know, and then she mentions batteries. What the hell was going on? She had far too many questions and needed to calm down.

“They’re kind of used to make mages more powerful. If they’re gone, we don’t know what will happen to all of the mages’ magic.”

The plane tilted upward, as the take-o� process completed. Ireland frowned as Lena took a seat. She quickly looked at her “grandmother”. “If there truly is someone stealing the batteries, the Magic Coalition will never be the same

again.”

With a sharp thud, the plane �nally touched down in the People’s Nation of Stratos. Ireland’s body was thrumming with excitement, but Lena placed a calming hand on her shoulder.

“You are my assistant, so start to compose yourself. You remember your lessons on the Moh Empire, correct?”

Ireland nodded, placing her hand on top of Lena’s. “Good. We’re going to go into that congress, and we are going to �nd out as much as we can on

batteries. Time to become earth mages!” With that, the plane doors swung open, and the pair stepped down into the metallic grey of Stratos.


Ireland blinked in the harsh light of Stratos. There were metal walls encasing each building, creating a bright glare that burned through Ireland’s corneas. Ireland blinked, attempting to see through the light as her eyes watered. Though her vision was blurry, she could barely make out the �ags that lined the pathway, each representing the di�erent factions. She could see her own �ag mixed with the others, and it made a certain feeling bubble in her throat.

As they walked closer to the entrance, Ireland could make out two people standing in front of the entrance.

“Who are they?” She whispered to Lena. “The co-presidents of the Air Faction,” she responded back, just as quietly. Ireland nodded

mutely. Karla Gustough and Patrick Hicinopoulos. They were obsessed with keeping the peace among all of the factions, almost to a fault. Ireland o�ered a tight lipped smile to the pair.

“Ah, Lena McAnany, the defense coordinator for the Moh Empire?” Hicinopoulos inquired as he reached his hand over for Lena to shake.

“Of course. This is my assistant, Ireland McAnany. She’ll be learning the ropes for my position when I am ready to retire.” Lena responded with a furrowed brow, reaching over to accept the handshake. Ireland could tell she had adopted the stern facial expression that the members of the Moh Empire tended to display. Ireland was quick to mirror Lena’s expression.

“Right this way, Ms. McAnany and Miss McAnany,” Gustough said, leading them into the government campus. “I suppose you’d like to stay in The Breeze with the Moh President?”

Lena nodded. “That would be most preferable, Madam President.” Gustough nodded as she led them into a rather fashionable hotel. It had an air of elegance, with

its silver adornishments and pale walls. It was a direct contrast to the Nero’s Institute. Ireland gently touched one of the cool walls, and was shocked to feel how smooth it was. She was used to the rocky interior of the buildings back home.

“Your room will be room A113, on the �rst �oor. The Congress, as you well know, is currently being held in the Chamber found directly next to this hotel,” Gustough said curtly, holding out the room key for the pair. “I hope to see you well and healthy tomorrow.”

She turned briskly and walked out of the double doors. Lena waited until Gustough walked out the door, and turned quickly toward Ireland.

“Look, they’re splitting the factions into two separate hotels. I want you to investigate the People’s Republic of Gauss and the Democratic Republic of Loch. I’ll take care of the Moh Empire. Tomorrow, we can handle the other factions at the Congress.”

Ireland nodded, and slipped away from Lena. It was time to discover the dirty secrets of the other factions.



Chapter 18 Charlie — Decaying Roses & The Last Murderer

The smell was the �rst thing that hit her. Living in the Decay Faction, Charlie was used to the sharp rancid odor of sulfur. It had become a natural part of her life, the smell of sulfur. In this magnitude, however...

Her fault. Charlie swallowed the lump in her throat. Her entire faction lay on the ground, dead , and it

was all her fault. Their bodies were pale, so pale. There wasn’t even any sign of injury, no blood to be seen anywhere. Just the bloated corpses of all her friends, her family. If Charlie squinted, she could make out the white faces of the Potters, Eliza, Mr. Wagner, Clarissa…

Her fault. An uncontrollable laugh spilled out from her lips. Of course they were all dead, they were the

Decay faction. They all deserved to be dead, everyone on the planet hated them. They were seen as nothing more than walking murderers. Charlie laughed again, this time able to feel the tears pouring down her face.

Her fault. “I’m the last one,” she whispered to herself. “I’m the last murderer.” Her fault. She looked at her hands. A tidal wave of emotion built up within her and she screamed,

dropping to her knees and hitting her �sts on the ground. She slammed her head into the ground and screamed again. As her screams subsided, she rested her head on the ground. Her chest heaved with her gasps and frantic breathing. As Charlie came back into herself, she could feel a sharp pain stabbing her palm. She lifted her hand up gingerly and giggled at the solid chunk of glass embedded in her hand. There were streams of ruby red blood pouring out from the cut.

Her fault. “Beautiful,” she whispered to herself as she pushed the glass in deeper. The pain slowly

increased... slowly, slowly, slowly. She pulled the glass out of her hand and slashed it swiftly across her wrist. Red bloomed, a stark contrast to her pale skin.

Her fault. “Like roses,” she whispered, “Dark, ruby roses.” Her fau— Suddenly, a memory came sharply to Charlie, and as she gasped, the glass shard fell and

shattered on the ground. “The Nox Republic!” She shouted to the empty, tattered remains of the camp of Vox Mortis,

her only company being the dead bodies. Charlie swiftly turned, and she started to sprint westward. The Nox Republic is far away, too far

away to walk. But if she could travel by water…


Good thing Charlie knew a guy.

“You sure you want to continue on your own?” Callum asked, hands outstretched. He was holding the �ow of the water of Lake Superio still, to steady the pair of them. Charlie nodded quickly, stepping o� of the wave and onto the beach.

Callum was a member of the Water Faction who lived on the edge of the Democratic Republic of Loch and Vox Mortis. He was relatively powerful in his ability to manipulate water. He particularly loved to harden the �ow of water to create semi-solids. In fact, when Charlie and Callum �rst met, he had pelted her with hard water. And then he had proceeded to laugh at Charlie.

“Yes, I can take care of myself,” Charlie waid, placing a single pale hand on Callum’s hand. He just raised an eyebrow and pushed it o�.

“You know I have a boyfriend,” he gently reminded her. Charlie went red. “Anyway, you know I’m not asking because you’re incapable. When I came to pick you up, you clearly had just sobbed and your wrist was bleeding. I didn’t want to say anything then, but tell me now. Are you alright?”

Charlie unconsciously wrapped a hand over her bleeding wrist. “I’m not okay, and I’m not sure if I’ll ever be okay again. But I don’t think I’m ready to tell anyone yet. I promise when things tide over, I will tell you. Deal?”

Charlie held out her hand, covered in blood. Callum hesitated, looking a bit paler, and then grabbed her hand, shaking it �rmly. Charlie could see her decay energy start to take a toll on him, as she had a tendency to accidentally kill anything around her. She needed to get a move on, and fast.

“Deal. But make sure to tell me when everything tides over.” Charlie nodded. Callum �icked his wrist, and the waves began to move slowly away from the beach. Charlie

stood still until the wave was out of view, and then twisted around sharply to face the Nox Republic. There was still a long way to go. Charlie sighed and began walking down the long road.

Charlie wrapped her arms around her body. It felt so much colder in the Nox Republic, she mused. Charlie tilted her head back. Ah. There was a large Shadow Cloud hovering above the state, blocking out all sunlight, making the area much colder. She reached out with her mind, nudging the areas around her. The grass, because of the lack of sunlight, was slowly dying.

A wave of sympathy crashed over Charlie. She quickly waved her hand, and all the grass she could sense stopped their life processes and passed on. Charlie breathed a sigh of relief. She hated su�ering. She continued walking along the road.

There was a sudden warmth against her back. Charlie sharply twisted around. Behind her, accelerating at full speed, was a truck. It was barreling toward her. Charlie was unable to move. This is the end. She thought to herself. Trial and sentence, all at once .

At the very last possible moment, the truck swerved, narrowly missing Charlie by inches. The force of the truck was strong enough to blow Charlie’s blonde ponytail backwards. Charlie turned to face the truck. It had swerved past the right lane and over rumble strips, tipping onto its right side.


Charlie bolted to the truck, and reached out with her mind. She could feel two men, on the brink of death.

Her fault. She reached out a hand and shut her eyes. People were a little more di�cult than plants. They

required a slower shut-down process. She felt all of their life processes, and slowly, meticulously, began to shut down the truck driver’s body. She was almost down with the younger one when—

“Brian. Can you hear me, Brian?” Charlie stumbled backward, ripped out of her mindstate. A sudden �ash, Eliza, Eliza, wake

up, can you hear me, please don’t be dead, please don’t be—” A groan. The younger one is alive, you didn’t finish the job, he’s going to suffer now, thanks to

you. Murderer . “Listen to me, Brian. Brian, I’m gonna need you to get up. You hurt bad?” Charlie had heard enough. She had done enough damage for one night. Charlie turned and bolted down the road. She was too preoccupied to even notice that the

Shadow Cloud was gone.

Charlie sprinted down the road, breath pushing in and out of her body. She needed to get to the Darkness Faction, and quickly . The Shadow Cloud was already gone, which was an ominous sign in and of itself. She only had a few moments, seconds, before the Nox Republic was gone for good. Charlie couldn’t just sit by and watch him kill another faction. That’s what he would do with the Absorber. That was why he had come to Decay.

She didn’t want more blood on her hands. One faction was plenty. Charlie skidded to a stop. She was too late. The smell was the �rst thing that hit her. Living in the Decay Faction, Charlie was used to the

sharp rancid odor of sulfur. It had become a natural part of her life, the smell of sulfur. In this magnitude, however…

Charlie fell to the ground in a lifeless heap. Her fault. Her fault. Her fault. Her fault. Her fault. Her fault. Her fau— She stumbled away, on her knees. She gasped, air suddenly unavailable to her. She couldn’t

breathe, she couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t breathe .


She began to giggle. This just couldn’t be happening. “Heh. They’re all dead.” Charlie smiled. “I murdered them all.” She stood up, and began to stumble through the street, as if she were drunk. Slowly, she began

to be covered in the dirt of the streets. Charlie didn’t care. She didn’t care anymore. She wandered. Constantly thinking about what she could’ve done.

The streets of St.Paul echoing with two words: Her fault. A ghost of sorts that didn’t seem willing enough to die, nor willing to live. She didn’t keep track of the days only the bodies.

As she wandered aimlessly, she came upon a small group of people gathered at the mouth of one of the streets. There were two boys and a girl. Charlie cocked her head to the side, curious. One of the boys had dark hair and teal eyes, another was skinny and blond, and the third, the girl, had dark hair and brown eyes. Charlie knew none of them.

As soon as they noticed her, the group huddled close together. Charlie smirked. They were all terri�ed of her. Awesome .

“What is that?” the blond asked. Charlie walked ever closer. “It looks like a young woman,” the dark-haired female said, her voice dripping with heavy

sarcasm. “No, I meant, what is that? She doesn’t look like a Dark Mage. She looks...paler.” The blue-eyed boy turned to face the blond, fear etched into every feature on his face. “She’s Decay.” “You,” Charlie said. She could feel the terri�ed stares of the group as she inched closer and

closer. “Help me.” As she smirked, her head rolled to the side, and Charlie stared at the group intensely. The girl, immediately spooked, began to scramble away, but Charlie was faster. She �xed her

stare on the girl and immediately grabbed onto her lungs, forcing the girl into unconsciousness. In almost a second, the girl was a limp pile on the ground.

“RUBY,” the blond shouted, rushing over to the girl on the ground. The dark-haired boy was still standing, looking at Charlie with an intense stare. He began to move his hands slowly, obviously getting ready to attack Charlie with whatever fucking powers he had. Charlie stared at him, and hardened her gaze. The boy started to gasp as his organs began to shut down.

“Ashton, help me!” he yelled, and Ashton whipped his head around as he threw his hand out. His eyes became white, and Charlie only had a second to realize that oh, shit, he’s a light mage before the light seared her eyes and temporarily blinded her.

“Oh my god!” She shouted as she relinquished her hold on the dark-haired boy’s organs in her panic. She frantically grasped at her eyes. “You’ve blinded me!”

“No, it’s only temporary,” Ashton said. “Should we take her in?” the other boy asked. Ashton just hummed in response, and suddenly

Charlie was blind and gasping for air. The other boy was a Water Mage. Charlie realized instantly as her


head was suddenly completely underwater. She tried to reach out for anyone’s organs, but she was quickly pulled into unconsciousness.


Chapter 19 Chenxue — Books about Potentially World-Ending Magical Artifacts are in the Back

Chenxue woke up with a jolt to the sound of spitting oil and occasional cussing. He sat up and winced as his side ached. The same nightmare. Pulling back his shirt, he found, miraculously, that despite his pain, the burns had mostly healed up. He gently stood up and tested how sore he was, slowly stretching from side to side. “So, this is what Life magic can do,” he muttered to himself.

“Shit!” Chenxue peeked his head in the kitchen to see Xialing trying to balance a wok in one hand

while the other held a �ame below. The �re she produced varied wildly in intensity, sometimes licking up the side and catching on residual oil. The wok wobbled dangerously as she tried to stir fry the rice at the same time. She turned to Chenxue, clearly tired. “Good afternoon. Thought we should get some lunch in us before we start the search.”

“Lunch? What time is it?” Xialing returned to the task of cooking and torching at the same time. “Around 2 now. Figured

you needed the rest. Damnit!” A good chunk of rice spilled over the side and fell to the ground. “Is this how you always cook?” “Stove’s being temperamental today. Gas’s probably out, again.” A few moments of silence passed. “Do you want help?” “Yes, please.” Chenxue cracked two eggs into a bowl, stirring them quickly with a pair of chopsticks.

Ingredient by ingredient, he added various toppings to the fried rice while Xialing cradled her hands underneath, producing a steady cooking �ame. Huddled together on the kitchen �oor, the two of them stared at the rice cooking unevenly. “This feels stupid,” Xialing �nally said.

“It’s pretty resourceful. Although I never really pictured Fire Mages doing this. I think we’re good.”

Xialing gratefully killed the �ame and let her hands rest a bit. After resting the wok on the stove again, Chenxue spooned some rice into two ceramic bowls.

“So, what’s the plan for today?” Xialing chewed thoughtfully. “I think the library would be a good start. What we’re looking for

is practically ancient history; I doubt anyone alive today would know much about it. Our best bet is to look for reports of unusual phenomena, the kind that can’t be explained by nature, but might be explained by a Battery.” She looked at Chenxue. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” he replied, stretching his arm. “I wouldn’t count on me being much use in a �ght, though.”


“Don’t worry. Today will be low-pro�le. Casual.” Xialing �nished her lunch and o�ered to take Chenxue’s bowl. “Like a date,” she teased as she stood up from the table and left.

Chenxue felt his cheeks �ush and brie�y thanked the heavens that she was in a di�erent room. When he spoke, his voice was uneven. “I didn’t know you lived so close by.”

“Yeah, my family’s been here since I was born. I can’t wait to get us out of here, though.” “You support the entire family? That’s gotta be tough.” “I mean my dad works, it’s just … I’m working on getting us out of here.” Xialing put away the

bowls and dried her hands. “How about you?” “Pardon?” “Your family. Where do they live?” “Oh. Over on the outskirts of Darkness.” “… Are they okay?” Chenxue began folding his blankets on the couch. “Yeah, I called them a couple weeks ago.

They were miles away from the incident,” he said dismissively. “Well, that’s a relief. We should head out now if we want to make good progress today. There’s

no telling how long it’ll take us to even get a list of potential locations.” “Right.” Chenxue said absent-mindedly as he started pulling on his jacket. “Shit!” he muttered

quietly, suddenly remembering where he was. Xialing rounded the corner and came back into the living room. Chenxue looked tense,

standing sti� in the middle of the room in his short-sleeved t-shirt. “Here, you can borrow one of my dad’s jackets. It’s kind of chilly out there.”

The Gwyndolin Library was repurposed from an abandoned church, and its stone spires still carried an air of sanctity. Reaching deep underground, the library itself was taller than it was long, and metal grated stairs twisted around the large column of rooms that descended into the earth. Chenxue closed another book and crossed o� another book title from the piece of paper in front of him. “This one seems likely too.”

“I’m starting to think we’re just plotting the location of every major volcano in the Fire faction.” Xialing said, her head planted between the pages of the large book in front of her. “How can so many di�erent locations have unexplained �re-related natural phenomena?”

“Let’s at least work through this last shelf before we inevitably give up,” Chenxue said as he stood up. He practically shambled to the last shelf of the archaeology section and bumped face-�rst into a tall, middle-aged man who was also scouring the shelves. “I’m so sorry, are you okay?”

“Don’t worry, you’re �ne,” the tall man chuckled. “You were moving at quite a clip, though. Trying to �nd the exit in this dusty old maze, I’d imagine,” he said with a quiet laugh.

“Just looking through the archaeology books,” Chenxue said with a smile. The tall man’s gentle nature seemed inviting.


“That does indeed explain why you’re in the archaeology section,” the man said with faux solemnity. “What are you looking for? Maybe I could help.”

“Natural disasters. My name is Chenxue, by the way,” he said, extending a hand. “It’s nice to meet you. My name is Roger Badger.” Chenxue gave his hand two good shakes while staring with incredulity. “Roger Badger? You’re

the president of the Council of Grey, the non-Mage advocacy group, right?” “I’m surprised you even know who we are. Tell me, are you a non-Mage?” Roger’s kind

expression slowly became more familiar to Chenxue the longer he looked. He had certainly aged a lot since Chenxue had last seen him on the news several years ago. “Well—”

“What’s taking you so long?” Xialing said as she rounded the corner. “Oh. Hello there.” “Lots of new friends today,” Roger chuckled. “Here, let’s sit down.” Chenxue cleared the table as the three of them took chairs around it. “So, you two are

researching natural disasters? What kind speci�cally?” Xialing gave Chenxue a warning glance, but he had already begun to respond. “Volcanos,

�restorms, the like.” Roger’s eyebrows raised. He leaned in close and looked around to make sure that no one was

listening. “You two are looking for the Fire Battery, aren’t you?” he whispered. “Yes, we are,” Chenxue replied softly. Xialing gave a short exhale. “Well. Then I think I might be able to help you quite a bit. What have you found out so far?” Xialing looked at Chenxue hesitantly, but eventually took out their chart. “We’ve been

recording the locations of historical natural disasters that seem out of place as potential locations where the Fire Battery might be hidden. But after only an hour we’ve already come up with over 29 di�erent possible places spanning the past �ve centuries. Not only are these events scattered aimlessly across the entire faction, they’re also incredibly similar, so we can’t really tell if one is more likely than the others. At this point, we honestly think that we’ve just been plotting normal natural events.”

Roger closed his eyes in thought. “This does seem to be a pickle. I’m impressed with the amount of research you’ve managed to pull together.”

“Do you think that the evidence we’re looking for is older than 500 years?” Chenxue asked. “It’s unlikely that the Battery wouldn’t cause some kind of disturbance for so long. Besides, we

don’t really have many records from that long ago. Let’s try to work with what we’ve gathered and see if we �nd any clues.”

Chenxue happily took out a piece of scratch paper. “Alright, let’s start with what we know. We know that the Battery, when wielded, can make a Fire Mage exponentially more powerful and has historically led to freak natural disasters. We know that the Battery is a physical object, and we know that we’ve easily identi�ed many places that are linked to a possible Battery-disaster. Can a Battery be split into multiple parts?”

Xialing shook her head. “Not with each piece retaining the original power. Sections that break o� are much weaker.”


“So, it’s not that the Fire Battery was split into many pieces. If it were, then the individual pieces would not be able to cause the natural events we’ve seen,” Roger said.

“Can the Battery work at a distance? Maybe all of these smaller events are occurring from some central point where the Battery is housed,” Xialing o�ered.

“That doesn’t fully explain the pattern we’ve seen.” Chenxue pointed at their chart. “Events seem to never stray far from the mountain range. If it were a circular area, we would have seen unusual forest �res to the north as well.”

“Why do they stick near mountains?” Roger asked. “It seems too speci�c to just be a coincidence spanning over half a millennium.”

“Maybe Xialing is right, and the Battery works at a distance through fault lines?” Chenxue said.

“A Battery’s power weakens with distance, even if it were located right in the middle of this trend, it couldn’t cause volcanic eruptions over a thousand miles away, fault line or not,” Roger countered. He leaned back in his chair and sighed. “It just doesn’t make sense how one thing could be in so many places at the same time.”

“But it’s not,” Xialing muttered, almost to herself. She stood up, energized again, and looked intensely between the map and her notes. “These events are a collection spanning over 500 years.”

The same realization hit Chenxue. “It’s not that the Battery is causing events in di�erent places…”

Xialing could practically see the lines between the dots on the map. “The Battery is moving.” Roger’s eyes lit up, and he left without a word to start searching through one of the bookshelves on the other side of the room. Xialing waited until he was out of earshot to lean over to Chenxue. “Why did you tell him basically everything?”

“We need the help,” Chenxue whispered back. “So much for a small operation,” Xialing said with a groan. “Admit it, this is kind of exciting, isn’t it?” She smiled wryly. “Yeah, I guess.” Roger returned, dropping a large tome on the table, which kicked up its own cloud of dust as it

hit the surface. “Try to be careful when turning the pages, the whole thing might crumble to dust.” Xialing waved away the dust and smell of old books. “What century is this from?” “It’s older than your grandparents and mine, that’s for sure. Many people over the years have

searched for the elusive Fire Battery. While other Batteries are easily associated with enormous and unusual natural phenomena, few events in the history of the Fire Faction seem to indicate the use of a Battery. When the search was widened, there would be too many results, just as you encountered. But your theory…I’d never considered it. It’s been in many di�erent places, but never in two places at once.”

Xialing seemed skeptical. “But according to our data, the thing’s moved over a thousand miles in a single day. No human or animal is capable of that.”

“Are you sure?” Roger said, a childishly smug grin on his face. He opened the old book to a page near the end. On the page was a drawing, partly in reality and partly in a stream-of-conscious


expression. The scales seemed to glint, even in the black and white rendering, and the claws �ashed dangerously. Two horns curled backwards from its snarling maw, and two whiskers from its mane.

Chenxue and Xialing looked at each other, and then at Roger. “A dragon?” they both said at once. “There’s no way,” Xialing said, her eyes still trans�xed on the image. “Dragons have been

extinct for thousands of years.” “They’re extinct as far as we know. Take another look at the plotted locations,” Roger said.

“Around 500 years ago, the data points vary wildly. There doesn’t really seem to be a mountain peak that the dragon didn’t go to. After another 200 years, the data points congregate to especially tall or hostile mountain peaks, while the tamer locations are abandoned. Fast forward to now, and we only see a couple of peaks lighting up. What changed over the course of 500 years?”

Chenxue looked closer at the map. “Human expansion. As we started moving towards the mountains…”

“…the dragon started moving out.” Xialing �nished. “If we limit our search to peaks that have almost no human inhabitants, that leaves these as possible locations,” she said, circling several peaks on the map.

“From 29 to 11. Not bad for a day’s work,” Roger said smugly. “Going straight to dragons is a pretty big leap,” Xialing said, leaning back in her chair. “You

must have other evidence to be this convinced. Who are you really, Mr. Badger? Beyond being the president of the Council of Grey.”

“Suspicious?” Roger asked. “Curious.” He sighed. “Alright. I’ll come clean. There have been rumors. Of a mysterious person travelling

across the land, collecting these Batteries. At �rst, I didn’t think it was true, but…well, we all saw what happened in the Nox Republic.”

“Collecting them? Why?” Chenxue asked. “We’re not sure. But all that power, in one place? Whatever this person is planning, it can’t be

good. If they’re willing to massacre cities to get what they want, I think we’re safe in considering them an enemy of humanity. The top priority of every government is to locate and protect what Batteries are left. And so, I’m also trying to do my part. If we can even �nd one Battery, that’ll be another Battery that this person can’t get. Now—” His expression turned serious. “—I won’t ask why you are looking for the Fire Battery. But there is a greater good to serve here. I don’t know if you were hired or blackmailed or if you two are just burgeoning archaeologists, but if you do �nd any other information, please consider passing it on to me. You have the power to do a lot of good here.”

“Are you part of the government?” Xialing asked. Roger laughed spitefully. “You young people always think you can trust the government. No, I

have suspicions that our mysterious person is closer to the government than people think.” Roger’s phone chimed as a text came in. He stood up as he read through it. “At the worst possible time. I’m


sorry, but I have to get going now. Consider my o�er.” He passed Chenxue a piece of paper with a phone number scribbled on it.

Roger walked away, climbing the creaky wooden staircase that led back up to the church’s main �oor. “You sure trust him a lot,” Xialing said as she began to gather up their notes.

“I mean, that’s Roger Badger, of course I’d trust him.” “Roger who?” Chenxue picked up a large stack of books and began walking with Xialing to the return cart.

“Roger Badger? Leader of the Council of Grey? They’re the non-Mage advocacy group that’s been �ghting peacefully against oppression for decades, not like those human purist terrorist groups. I’ve been listening to his speeches since I was like, 10.”

“I’ve never seen a Mage care so much about drubes before.” “What, you think I shouldn’t?” Xialing chuckled as she put the books down on the cart. “No, I’m glad you do. Seems like fate’s

on our side, with us bumping into that guy, huh? Made a lot more progress than I was expecting today.”

“No such thing as fate,” Chenxue replied. “Everything in this world is either pure probability or calculated strategy.”

“Spoken like a gambler.”

It was late afternoon by the time the two of them got back to the bar. The setting sun threw golden beams through the branches of the roadside trees, turning the very air a rusted yellow.

“We should just call the police,” Gustav said in hushed tones. “They’ve got contacts in there too. It’ll be no good unless we can get Viper �rst,” Klaus said. “You’ve got yourself wrapped in some serious shit this time, haven’t you?” Mika said, staring at

Chenxue. Xialing looked down in embarrassment. “I’m really sorry about this.” The sta� of the bar sat in

contemplation after Xialing had �nished explaining the events of last night. The late afternoon crowd was thin, and only several patrons ate at the booth seats next to the window.

Gustav sighed heavily. “So what now? You have to �nd the Battery…” “Or it’s his head. And mine,” Xialing replied. “Some mysterious �gure collecting Batteries. If this person actually got all of them, they could

end the world,” Klaus grumbled to himself. “A threat to all Mages,” Mika muttered. She stood up, to the surprise of everyone. “I’m going

to help you two.” Xialing shook her head immediately. “We can’t get any more people involved in this. It’s getting

tangled enough as it is.” “You heard what the stakes are, I can’t just sit on the sidelines!”


Chenxue leaned closer to Mika. “Mika, please, we’re not talking about some local gra�ti gang here, these people are trained killers. I’ve seen them up close.”

“I can hold my own!” “I think we’ve all had a long day,” Klaus �nally interjected. “Let’s all get some rest and talk

about this tomorrow, with clear heads. Chenxue, if you bring me your notes, I can help you organize them, maybe we can narrow this list down even further.”

“Come on, I’m good at keeping notes,” Chenxue said, trying to inject some levity into the conversation as Mika stood up from her bar stool.

“You’re good at card-counting: not the same thing.” The door chimed as it closed behind Mika, who stormed o� into the night. “Don’t worry about her. Whatever’s going on, she’s gotta sort it out herself,” Klaus reassured Chenxue and Xialing.

“I’ve never seen her so determined before,” Chenxue said. “What’s your take on this mysterious person? Do you buy it?” he asked Klaus.

“If you had asked me a month ago, I would have said, no, absolutely not,” Klaus said thoughtfully. “But … Well, we all saw what happened at the Nox Republic. No magic I know of is capable of wiping out a whole city.”

“I don’t know how I feel about handing the Battery over to the Snake Bay Pirates,” Chenxue said to Xialing. “I feel like the consequences are a lot bigger than we might think.”

Xialing eyes were focused somewhere else. “Yeah let’s…let’s cross that bridge when we get there. We don’t know for sure where the damn thing is yet.”

“Here, Chenxue. File dividers,” Klaus said, emerging from beneath the bar. “Why do we have �le dividers under the bar?”


Chapter 20 Leopold — Decisions, Decisions “Do you have an exact number?” “No.” “An estimate, at least?” “A rough estimate. Likely around �fteen.” Lothan Manolis frowned at the man in front of him. The man was, of course, Heinrich Noust,

an o�cer from the Pyre Federation who had been assigned to manage the perimeter around Saint Paul. Lothan’s seat was raised high above the man on the chamber �oor, making him look large, intimidating. Powerful. Cameras snapped photos of his brooding face, pictures that would likely �nd themselves on the front of every newspaper in The Democratic Republic of Loch tomorrow. Leopold rolled his eyes.

“You let fifteen people breach the exclusion zone?” Lothan said sharply. Heinrich nodded meekly.

“Again, �fteen is just an estimate. A very rough estimate, at that —” “I motion for an immediate hearing to relieve Heinrich Noust from his position,” Lothan

interrupted. Leopold couldn’t blame Lothan for that—Heinrich had, by all accounts, proven himself totally inept. But a hearing would be costly. It would take a few days, at minimum. Again, this was just a political stunt. One they couldn’t a�ord.

“Who do you propose we put in his stead, Senator?” Karla Gustough asked. “My o�ce has prepared a list of potential replacements…” “Apologies to interrupt, Senator.” Leopold couldn’t hide his grin today, especially when

Lothan Manolis glared at him. The small crowd in the gallery snickered lightly, and even some of the other delegates in the room failed to hide their own smiles. Leopold knew that his “interruptions” were entertaining to a large part of the group. They found Lothan Manolis just as infuriating as he did. “Why are we wasting our time talking about this?”

“Wouldn’t you agree that it’s important to maintain the integrity of the exclusion zone?” Lothan shot back.

“What integrity? According to O�cer Noust here, it’s already been breached.” “To prevent —” “Let’s be honest with ourselves. We knew that exclusion zone wouldn’t hold. We didn’t

contribute nearly enough resources to defend an entire Faction’s borders.” Lothan was fuming. “Mind your words —” Leopold had no intention of letting the senator interject, or of minding his words. “We did

more than our due diligence in keeping people out,” he said, raising his voice, “but we knew that people were going to head to the city in search of family, friends, answers. And can you blame them for taking matters into their own hands? We’ve done nothing to �nd their loved ones, nothing to prevent


such a disaster from happening again. My own fiancée is among the missing, so forgive me for being blunt, but your commitment to wasting our time is truly astounding.”

The room was quiet for a moment. Lothan Manolis locked eyes with Leopold. There, Leopold saw nothing but resentment, nothing but hatred.

“Were you, Prince Dazzle, involved in these breaches to our exclusion zone?” Lothan asked him. Leopold shook his head in faux disbelief at the accusation, but Lothan pushed the point. “Did you organize it, even? I recall you were quite keen on launching an investigation, throwing innocent people into that horribly dangerous situation. Violating a Congressional agreement would be a breach of the Peace Accords...”

Karla Gustough jumped to Leopold’s defense. “Senator, there is no place here for such unfounded accusations —”

“It’s alright, Madam President,” Leopold said. Karla looked at him, surprised, but didn’t protest. “I would like to address the accusation.” Leopold looked around the room. You could hear a pin drop. “I did not ask anyone to violate the exclusion zone,” he said. “But I will be reaching out to the people that did. I will be hearing what they have to say. Because it’s about damn time that someone in this room �gured out what the hell is going on.”

A few hours later, Leopold was sipping co�ee in a small Lightbucks house. Usually he wouldn’t be caught dead at a chain restaurant, not even one based in his home faction, but Air’s co�ee was too sweet for him, and Lightbucks was at least familiar. Above him, the television silently played subtitled clips from the Congress. His own face appeared for a moment, along with the tagline “Miami Crown Prince Pledges to Work with Amateur Investigators.” Lorenzo laughed across from him.

“Pretty bold of you, isn’t it? Dad’s not going to be happy.” “Dad’s not going to be happy when he �nds out about your diplomatic activities here, either.” “My diplomatic activities aren’t all over the news.” “Yet.” “Hey.” Lorenzo put down his drink. “You’re the one who told me to seduce the delegates.

Those two new supporters in the chamber—they were earned by me.” “Then I’m grateful for your… sacri�ce.” Leopold smirked. “As long as it doesn’t get out.” “P�t, no. Don’t worry.” Lorenzo dismissed the idea with a wave. He withdrew a coin from his

pocket and �icked it into the air, then caught it. He continued to do it as they spoke. “Both of those two want that secret to get out even less than you do.”

“Which two delegates, exactly?” Leopold asked. “Do you really want to know?” “Fair point.” Leopold thought for a second. The next time Lorenzo �ipped his coin, he caught

it in midair, forcing his attention. “Is Wanda Duponte one of them?” Lorenzo hu�ed. “I wish.” Then, in a moment, he looked at Leopold’s face, his eyes searching,

analyzing. “Why?”


“No reason.” Leopold’s gaze dropped to Lorenzo’s coin. It wasn’t a standard quarter-dollar, which would have featured their father’s face on one side, and the Beacon on the other, but rather a modi�ed version of it, with Lorenzo’s face as heads, and a crudely-etched naked woman as tails. He rolled his eyes, then �icked it back to Lorenzo. He shifted gears. “I need you to do something else. You still have friends at the Class One Academy?”

“I wouldn’t consider them friends , but they probably wouldn’t say the same for me. For all the talk about how smart Mind Factioners are, they really are pretty oblivious.”

Leopold took a deep breath. “So you have connections in the government there?” Lorenzo blew air from his nose. “Sure.” “See if you can get any information on Tatyana Cardinale’s investigation, then.” “How do you know she has an investigation?” “It’s Tatyana Cardinale. Of course she’s running her own investigation.” Lorenzo �nished the rest of his drink in one large gulp. “Notably less intriguing than your last

ask. But yeah, I’ll do my best.”

Leopold �nally found her in the gardens. In retrospect, it probably should have been the �rst place he checked. The gardens were set on the far side of the government’s campus, tucked away behind the mall and a small administrative building on the rear side of the hill. Walls of shrubs and �owers made it feel a bit like a maze, but also provided some good cover for private conversations.

Wanda Duponte sat on the ground to the side of the path, a golden retriever in her lap. When Leopold rounded the corner, the retriever jumped from its position and greeted him warmly.

“Your dog?” Leopold asked her, scratching the gentle creature behind the ears. Wanda shook her head.

“ A dog,” she corrected him. “Life cannot own life. Not even the Mother owns us. We choose to serve her.”

Leopold said nothing. The dog ran from him and laid down next to Wanda. She plucked blades of grass from the ground and laid them in a pile to her side.

“Do you wield, Prince?” she asked. Leopold nodded. “I do.” “I’ve never seen you do it.” Leopold didn’t answer that, and Wanda didn’t seem to mind.

“What brings you here, Prince Leopold?” “I wanted to speak with you...” he pondered what her o�cial title was “... Sister Duponte.” “Speak freely. It’s only you and me here. My sta� don’t accompany me to the garden.” Leopold remembered what Ainsley had said. “You don’t travel with sta�.” Wanda �nally looked up from her project. Her green eyes pierced right through him, right to

his soul. “Do you �nd that curious?” she asked. “Do you �nd it curious that I, the Sister, head of The Holy Sanctuary of the Mother and voice of Her, am here myself?” Leopold hadn’t thought much of it, but in truth, it was odd. Every other faction, spare the host, had sent a representative—not their head of state—as delegate.


“Unorthodox, perhaps,” he admitted. Wanda nodded her head slowly. “Unorthodox indeed,” she agreed. “You should understand

that it would be wrong for me to send a representative. I am already a representative myself, the representative of the Mother. The more channels that Her voice passes through, the more corrupted it becomes.”

Leopold nodded along, as though her words meant something to him. He had never bothered to educate himself on Life’s faith, despite their factions’ long-standing alliance, and knew next to nothing about their beliefs. He tried to push the conversation elsewhere.

“You sent a �le to me?” He phrased it as a question, but she didn’t answer. “A police report. About a girl from Decay.” Still nothing.

Then, “I know you didn’t love Edna Cornicus.” The sentence knocked Leopold back. “I’m sorry?” “No need to apologize. I understand how politics work. I understand that standing in direct,

eternal opposition to the Nox Republic weakened Kingdom Miami. And I understand that the Light Faction would be the �rst suspect in a mass genocide against the Darkness Faction.”

“Are you accusing Kingdom Miami of having some part in this?” “That would be too obvious.” Wanda’s gaze slowly drifted from Leopold to the hedges around

them. “But others could be forgiven for making such an assumption, you’d agree?” Leopold narrowed his eyes. “Assumptions are dangerous.” “A necessary danger.” “The Gleam family had been trying to kill the Darkness Faction for hundreds of years before

my father dethroned him. If Light had the ability to destroy Darkness, we would have.” “And doesn’t that perturb you?” Leopold noticed small �owers blooming on the shrubs

around them. They began sprouting up in the grass, too, twisting and winding their way higher towards the sunlight above. Life magic. “Centuries of war, then what? Darkness falls in a night? It is unnatural. Impossible.”

“Apparently not.” “Apparently not,” she echoed softly, then paused, considering. “In the Holy Sanctuary, we have

the Garden. It is the Mother’s gift to us. It means that we all live as one, and strive to be one, despite our own individual urges and desires. A rotten plant will hurt the entire ecosystem. So, just as a gardener must prune the dying branches from a bush, I must cull the Garden.”

Leopold shifted his weight uncomfortably, confused by Wanda’s odd speech. “Fascinating,” was all he could muster in response.

“The Decay Faction was once a part of the Life Faction, you know.” Leopold did know. He had learned about it at the Class One Academy. Decay had formed not

all that long ago, by historical standards. There was supposedly a mutation in Life wielders’ genes, one that caused a�icted individuals to leak a deadly energy uncontrollably. They were dangerous, so they were separated from the rest of society, sent to live in the far north, where they could travel as a small nomadic group, moving around every few weeks so that their energy didn’t drain the surrounding


Earth entirely. No one could visit, not without the risk of absorbing the Decay energy themselves. And no one from Decay could leave supposedly. He’d heard rumours of some merchants and traders interacting with them.

“We share the same Mother, Life and Decay,” Wanda continued. “We share many powers. I can feel them sometimes, even after all these years. And something has changed. For months their energy has faded, and now it is gone entirely.”

“What does that mean?” It clicked in his mind a second later, and he lowered his voice, even though they were completely alone. “Is it something with their Battery?”

Light and Life had historically been friendlier with one another than most factions. Both were well-developed factions, and both had knowledge (and possession) of their respective Batteries. Light’s burned at the center of the Beacon in Castle Miami, and Life’s beat like a heart in the Tree of Life. Each faction had one, and if it were destroyed, that would be the end of its magic. Or so the story went, at least. In the modern era, rumors had begun to surface about Batteries, but most people (and faction governments) wrote them o� as myths. Leopold knew they were very real. Wanda knew it, too. And that was a secret their factions had shared for hundreds of years.

But she was shaking her head now. “Decay does not have a Battery,” she said. “They are new to the world, just a branch of Life. But I believe they had been trying to create one, or have created one by mistake, perhaps. I believe they have found a means of harnessing that Decay energy, the death that leaks from their being. If they captured it, then released it at once…”

“It would be like a bomb,” Leopold �nished for her. She nodded. “A bomb of pure death. You saw the picture of the girl? She was there, in Saint Paul, after it

happened. Nox was always a little wary of my faction, even after the Peace Accords, jealous about our special relationship with their enemy, I suppose. After the Peace Accords, we eased hostilities, but they enforced the border strictly. That’s how we know this girl entered into Nox. Their cameras and equipment had automatically taken a photo of her as she entered through Lake Superior.

“I tell you this for a reason. The energy in Vox Mortis, it’s gone. They’re either hiding, or missing.”

It seemed to Leopold like she was talking in riddles. Throughout the conversation, her face never changed once. He tried to gauge how much he could safely tell her.

“We are looking for the girl now,” he said. Wanda nodded. “Decay used to be called Death.” She lifted a dead leaf from the grass beside her. Where she

touched it, it turned a vibrant green, and that green spread until it encompassed the entire leaf. “But, curiously, the word Death frightened people, so it was changed to Decay , something much more horrifying, should you ask me. Decay is pained, prolonged existence, while death is just another piece of life. Bliss in absence, just like the time before you were born. This —” she gestured to the world around her "—is su�ering. This is what you would fear if you could see as the Mother sees. You see, Life and Death—we are like two sides of the same coin.” Wanda rotated the leaf by its stem. While the front was now green, the back was still brown, dead. She looked back to Leopold. “Without Life, you cannot have Death. And without Death...”


Around Leopold, the color began to fall from the �owers. They turned gray and crumpled into husky carcasses, losing grasp of their towering vines and falling as ash to the ground below. The grass, too, turned brown, along with the trees and hedges and shrubs. Leopold took a step back, right into the path of a falling projectile. It bounced from his shoulder harmlessly—a bird, its body twisted and rigid. Dead.

The golden retriever in the grass began to whimper. The creature began to cough, then those coughs turned to choking. The confusion in the animal’s eyes turned to fear, then pain, as it began to shake its head back and forth, then spasm. Through its choking came only tortured whines. After a few moments, the dog was still.

Wanda sat in the center of the carnage. All the green that remained was the small pile of grass she had plucked from the ground a few minutes before. That, and her twinkling green eyes.

“Find the girl,” she said. “She knows the truth.”


Chapter 21 Ireland — Dangerous Pastimes Ireland slunk around the hallways of The Breeze , letting the long tendrils of her mind-reading

ability reach out and touch the minds of the others. She could feel the Gauss delegate thinking about dinner — mmm, fried scallops sound quite exquisite — and a Loch member concerned with his television — why is this damn thing not working? — , but nothing about batteries.

She sighed and slunk to the end of the hallway, casted her mind down the new hallway, and — hmmmm, this teenage girl is perf — wait, what was this person thinking?

Ireland quickly shu�ed closer to the door she was thinking of, and concentrated on the lone man in the room.

She’s young, so she’ll recover. She does have an extremely protective family, so I’ll have to send my best assistant to retrieve her for me, and test her out for me.

Ireland backed up, thoughts swirling. Thinking quickly, she ran back, running through three hallways before she reached the service closet. Quickly pulling out a bobby pin from her hair, she swiftly unlocked the door and stepped inside. She pulled an apron and tied it over her black shirt. She quickly grabbed a notebook from the inventory and a spare pen before relocking the closet.

Ireland walked briskly back to the man’s room, and before she knocked, she perused the man’s mind again.

Her name is Ruth, according to what he told me. After he’s done with her, perhaps I could have fun with her…

Ireland quickly knocked on the door, and put on her best customer face. When the man opened the door in a hu�, she feigned surprise. “Oh! You’re not Lena

McAnany!” The man grumbled. “No, I am Lothan Manolis, and I am in deep thought regarding the Congress. I could have you

�red for interrupting me while I was deep in thought.” His face hardened into lines of anger. “I speci�cally told the waitsta� to leave me alone while I got my thoughts in order.”

“Oh, I am so sorry Mr. Manolis! I’m new and totally didn’t realize that you were told to be left alone! Please don’t have me �red! I need this job to pay for school!” Ireland began to well up, fake tears dripping from her eyes. “Please, Mr. Manolis!”

“Oh, just forget it. If another sta� member decides to butt their head in my room, I will personally ensure the entire hotel is bankrupt by the end of the month. However, I will let you o� with a warning. For now.”

He slammed the door in Ireland’s face, and she quickly glanced down at the notes she took. Lot�� Man��. Sen�� of Loc�. Has a so�. Se�r��n� fo� gi�� na�� Rut� in t�e San��r� of t�e

Hol� Mot��. Sen��g so��e to��h� to ki��p he�.


It’s amazing that the mind completely drops all their defenses when confronted with a distracting situation, such as a waitsta� crying on your doorstep. Ireland smirks, and shoves the notebook in her pocket as she drops the apron o� in the service closet as she walks past.


Chapter 22 Cyrus — The Soft Piano Cyrus woke up to the rare smell of eggs and bacon. He quickly drew his auxilifact on instinct,

�nding the smell of anything cooking disastrous for a makeshift shelter like the one he was currently in. Looking around, he located its source: Luna was apparently just making breakfast over a camp�re.

“Relax, it’s only food.” Luna laughed with a wave of her gauntlet to silence his fears. Cyrus put the weapon away barrel-�rst into the recesses of his pocket.

“Please tell me you didn’t steal those.” Cyrus said as he stretched himself upwards. “How else can someone get eggs?” Luna answered, not raising her eyes from her task. Cyrus

walked over to her and looked more closely at her pan. There were a few eggs in there, but no bacon as his nose reported. He tried smelling again to ensure he wasn’t getting fake signals.

“No, you’re not being ‘deceived by your senses’, lunatic. I’ve already made the bacon, and it was quite nice.” Luna smiled impishly.

“Look, we can’t draw any attention to ourselves out here, Luna.” Cyrus sat down across from her, “Word spreads quicker than we can walk, and the less our enemies know, the better.”

“Would you just calm down for one second?” Luna said, her smile unbreakable, “We’ve made amazing progress in the past few days alone.”

“We still don’t have any evidence to link the purists to Nox,” Cyrus said. “I’m starting to think this was a bad idea.”

“Really? Second thoughts now?” “That hideout was the fourth one in four di�erent cities, Luna. They were all surprised to �nd

us coming to destroy their plans, and hardly any of them even knew anything relevant about the current crisis.”

“That may be true, but we’re working up the chain, not down. You know just as well as I do that the higher-ups of these cults only tell the grunts information when it is absolutely necessary.”

“So a faction is suddenly destroyed and that isn’t considered ‘absolutely necessary’?” “Apparently not.” Luna took the eggs o� the �re. They were fully cooked. “Now c’mon and

eat. “We got another place in this next city that needs hitting.” She o�ered him a plate of de�nitely

non-gourmet eggs that were freshly cooked. Without hesitation, Cyrus took it. “What’s the info on this one?” Cyrus asked. Luna reached into what she called her ‘bag of

tricks’ and pulled out a book where she kept notes and intelligence. “Javelin. Actually got a ‘legitimate’ business to fund their activities, so we won’t have the

luxury of grabbing criminals. However, I don’t know what it is exactly or where in the city it is.” “Then how do you know about the legitimate business?” Cyrus asked after he swallowed a

mouthful. “I checked Moh reports of criminals and got no non-Mages causing trouble. Considering Moh

police o�cers are rigid and pure as hell, I doubt anyone’s been bribed, nor would I think that they’d let


this kind of activity go.” “I guess, but we shouldn’t rule it out. Javelin’s slipperier than most.” “That’s why I suspect they’ve lasted this long. As honorable as they are, nobody’s easier to lie to

than an Earth Mage,” Luna said. “Especially if they really do believe their code.” “I get that. Can I assume you got a cover story for us, then?” Cyrus asked, dreading the answer. “Oh, of course!” Luna’s face lit up. “This time, we’re lovers that are hopelessly lost on a

cross-nation road trip!” “Great,” Cyrus said with all the fake satisfaction he could muster, “And when they question

your arms?” “Really elaborate jewelry.” “You know, this would be a lot easier if you just took them o�.”. “Oh, but where’s the fun in that?” Luna admired the jewels. “Besides, I’m a lot less fun

without these things, and my abilities tend to �zzle out a bit more often.” “You could always put them back on if any of them start throwing rocks at us.” “And waste a few seconds in a life-or-death �ght? No way. I’d like to keep my head.” “Being killed by ‘rock to the face’ is a bit disappointing.” Cyrus �nished his meal and set his

plate to the side. “Come on, let’s get moving.” Luna began to pack up the makeshift camp she had made and put out the �re before it did

anything too dangerous. Meanwhile, Cyrus returned to the trees that had temporarily grew new branches below to serve as his roof and walls just for last night.

“Thanks, big one.” Cyrus said as he patted the trunk of one of them, “Your services are no longer required. Give my regards to the rest of the forest.”

The wooden sticks and leaves that had burst out the evening before shrunk back into their respective owners’ trunks after he �nished speaking. Cyrus smiled as he watched them work at weaving the strong yet �exible materials back where they belonged. Normally doing something like this would damage the trees themselves, having to take material from other places, but Cyrus had found some dead sticks for his new friends to use as material. Once provided the nutrition, they were more than happy to assist him for one measly night. What they did with it now was up to them.

Cyrus turned to follow Luna out of the little area of woods they had camped for the night before. It was on the side of a rarely-used highway traversing the Earth and Air Factions. Luna’s personal vehicle, some old, worn thing that was stil much nicer than Cyrus thought she would have, was on the side of the road, locked and away from most prying eyes. Being naturally paranoid about the safety of her ride, Luna had placed a booby trap if anybody decided to break any of the windows. A piece of her gauntlet was stashed inside, rigged to explode if anybody but her got near it. Cyrus waited until she unlocked the car and reattached the piece of her gauntlet to approach, just to be safe.

“Come on in, the water’s �ne,” Luna said as she entered the car. Cyrus, being one to enjoy the natural world more than the other one he found himself in, was naturally suspicious of any vehicles. He had to admit that without it, though, they wouldn’t be able to make any progress. He opened the door on the opposite side and sat down. It was impossible to make himself comfortable.


The road itself was exactly as busy as he expected. That is to say, there was nobody on it. It was perfect for people trying not to be seen. Luna pulled away from their makeshift camp and drove o� at a speed that Cyrus thought would turn some heads. He gave her a look, but she didn’t slow down. Luna looked to be having fun with it.

“So, another day has gone past.” Cyrus reminded her as he casually shifted his position in his seat.

“And?” Luna didn’t look away from the road. “You ready to tell me why you’re after the purists yet?” Cyrus asked. Although she seemed to

know his backstory inside and out, Luna was still a mystery to Cyrus. It didn’t seem like she was holding information back to be malicious, considering her smile turned into a pained look whenever he pressed her, but he still wanted to know. Another part of him wanted to get to know her better personally. Cyrus hardly ever even met anyone that even knew about human purists, let alone had some sort of past with them.

“No, Cy, I got nothing for you,” she said, going a little slower as her excitement dimmed. “It’s not that it really matters. I appreciate the help.” Cyrus nearly blushed, and hated himself

for it. “You pique my curiosity.” “I suppose a mysterious woman who shoots lightning from her wrists would.” She smiled

again. And then proceeded to speed up the car to the normal attack speed.

Somehow they made it into the small city of Casper, Moh Republic, without being stopped by the police. Cyrus had to tell Luna to settle down several times if they wanted to lay low, but other than the occasional heart pounding moment, the drive was smooth sailing. She parked the car a good walk away from their actual target on the side of the street. It would take about a half an hour before anybody realized it was illegal and another hour to do something about it. By then, however, the two would have bigger problems than a tow truck on their hands.

“It’s the Rapture Hotel around here, right?” Cyrus con�rmed with Luna as they began to walk towards their target.

“The one just up ahead. Shouldn’t be too much, but be prepared for traps.” Luna continue talking as she looked around. “Does this place feel quiet to you?”

Cyrus took a good look around. To him, Casper just looked like a normal city, albeit a small one. Buildings rose to touch the sky in giant stone symbols of pride. Stone and asphalt paved the way for covered feet and tires, and life was nowhere to be seen in the dry, dead heat, even as decoration. Except for the people, of course. A few were walking around attending to this or that task. They had none of the usual energy that fueled them, however. He could sense it from the Life Energy they radiated. The rush to get to the 9–5 jobs already ended, sure, but city living required pushy quickness that these people lacked.

“I heard people around here were more patient, but this seems a bit wrong.” Cyrus concurred.


He searched his powers for any animals or plants in the vicinity that could give him some insight, but found none. The closest critters were some stray cats a block or so away (too far to get to without delaying the task at hand) and the plants he found were those hardy weeds struggling to survive below the heavily trodden walkways and streets. They were too young to know anything. “These people must be serious about their urban cleanliness. I can’t sense any rats or weeds that could give us their eyes.”

“Which means as outsiders we stand out more.” Luna quickened her pace slightly, which Cyrus matched. Making sure nobody could notice, he

checked his auxilifact to ensure it still had its full charge. It did. Luna checked her gauntlets in a similar way, but it seemed to just make sure that they were on correctly and boosting her powers. He still didn’t know exactly how they worked, but they seemed similar to the auxilifact he had.

The two hunters got a few looks from the citizens, but nothing that warranted any o�cial action. Before long, they arrived at their destination: a building that was larger than its neighbors on all sides. It shone with the words “The Rapture” tacked onto it in curly gold lettering. If anything else, it attracted the eye. Cyrus had the sudden feeling that it could easily fall and hurt people below it, but let his defensive instinct slip back to the side.

“Think they’re compensating for something, basing in a place like that?” Luna smiled and looked at Cyrus for validation.

“Probably, considering who we’re dealing with. Let’s get inside before we get noticed.” Cyrus crossed the street ahead of Luna.

“Do you ever laugh?” She soon followed suit after getting her complaint out. They entered through giant revolving

doors which Cyrus was nearly blown away by. He was still getting used to most of the things he never spotted back in the Sanctuary. Luna helped as much as she could. As Cyrus’s generally action-oriented demeanor added a bit too much force to the rotating door, she slowed down the movement so he could squeeze through.

He barely noticed anything had been done. The interior of the building was just as ostentatious as the sign out front. It held on its ground

�oor a large lobby that was covered in white paint and red canvas. The carpets probably made guests feel as if they were celebrities, while the walls and deco around made them feel that they were getting their money’s worth for a stay here. It was all fake. Cyrus sensed tiny little plants in the foundation.

There was no marble here, only painted stone and concrete. He wrinkled his nose in disgust at the hotel’s false nature. Luna caught up to his side and gave him a small punch.

“Done taking in the scenery? Let’s get going.” She led the way con�dently, and Cyrus followed along, not allowing his guard to let up for even a moment. There weren’t many people in the lobby besides some richly-dressed personnel manning the check-in desk. Being the slower part of the day (and apparently being lazier men and women), they had more attention poised on their phones. One older man had a newspaper, which Cyrus noted as odd but kept moving. He sensed that they were all too engrossed to stop them.


“Hey, miss, can we help you?” Or not. One of them, a girl in a classical hotel uniform, waved Luna down. The armed woman didn’t slow down her path.

“Nah, we’re just looking for someone who’s staying here! We won’t be much trouble!” Luna called back with a wave of metal. Cyrus passed the poor girl (who looked scared half to death at his partner’s armaments) and gave her a friendly shrug. She calmed down, but went back to the desk cautiously. Hopefully she wouldn’t be an issue. As Luna wasn’t slowing her pace for anything in her path, Cyrus decided to make an e�ort to actually catch up. She headed down a hallway that bent o� and opened via double doors into a larger room.

This room was di�erently designed than the rest of the hotel. Cyrus looked at a sign outside: “The Jil Vena Lounge”. The �oors and walls were a darker, more somber tone and, by Cyrus’s

sense, seemed to be made of real wood (at least covered with it for aesthetics). It hosted all sorts of comfortable furniture and a full bar area, but all of that was nothing compared to the main draw of the room. A massive grand piano stood in the center of the room as if a spotlight had been shined upon it. There was almost no real light there, yet it seemed bright to Cyrus. It was as if the object had a lot of history, and much of that were events it strongly wished to tell.

“’Jil Vena’?” Luna laughed. “You can’t be serious! Anagrams were the best security these guys could come up with?”

“Give them some credit, Luna. Jil Vena was an actual person,” Cyrus commented as he moved for the grand piano almost in a straight line.

“Oh yeah? What did she do?” “Big hero of the Unity War. Second in command to Katja Stern. She was from the Moh

Republic.” Cyrus lifted the lid and looked down over the keys. “Oh.” Luna sounded embarrassed, “I should really study my history…” “It’s �ne. Most people in Sanctuary forget that Decay was a part of us originally. Forgetting a

war hero is more understandable than something that is tantamount to your entire culture.” Cyrus only spoke secondly, spending more e�ort and brushing o� dust. The massive instrument hadn’t been played for at least a few weeks. Luna came over and leaned on the other end of it.

“You play?” She smiled playfully. “I used to.” Cyrus smiled back as he thought of the old lessons he’d had when he was in school.

“My mother taught me. I was pretty good, too.” “Want to play something for me while I look around?” Luna steadied herself and started

looking under tables and parts of the bar for secret-door-opening-switches. “I was planning on it. There might be a speci�c melody that unlocks a door.” Cyrus sat down

and stretched his �ngers. “That’s a bit too magical for them, I think.” “Never underestimate a normal guy, Luna.” Cyrus went to press the �rst key, but hesitated.

After a second, he overpowered his urge to stop and started o� with a large chord. One he had learned very early on. Cyrus didn’t know what he was about to play. Instead, when that �rst set of notes wore


itself out, he moved to another chord that he believed harmonized with that well. He then felt what was exactly the natural conclusion to those two setups. He was more con�dent as he swung his �ngers to the next position.

This chord was one he knew by heart to one of the few songs he had ever memorized. It was one of his mother’s favorites. He established a slow, but smooth melody with his right hand as his left focused on the back chords. It was as if he had returned to those very lessons. Cyrus’s mother seated right next to him as they played sometimes one at a time, other times together. Sometimes they would spend nearly a whole day like that, only stopping to eat. He didn’t feel her presence here, but Cyrus liked to think he injected a bit of her into this place. It was an insult to the people who had ended her, and a beautiful one at that. He had forgotten how much he knew. The notes came as second-nature to him as he played, and he hoped the entire world could hear it. Cyrus wanted to make someone’s day. As he played, Luna slowly stopped what she was doing and began to return to him. Her face was smiling, as was default, but this time it was a more serious smile. There was nearly zero playfulness inside of it. It was softer than Cyrus had seen her, as if some mask had disappeared if only for a split second. She gently leaned on the piano opposite him as he played, obviously enjoying it more than she thought.

Cyrus transitioned seamlessly into another song and began to smile the same way. He was �nding something new about himself, yet something old as well. A reminder of who he truly was. He looked at Luna and smiled.

“Know any dances?” He asked, only halfway joking. She laughed a little. “Do I look like the kind of girl that dances to piano music Cy?” She emphasized the weapons

on her wrists. “I don’t know. Do I look like the kind of guy that plays piano music?” Cyrus turned back to

the keys and closed his eyes. He now felt the music more than ever as he wove through the notes. He continued to move forward with the song, letting it take him over. He forgot for just a moment while they were here, and with his senses, he began to feel the vibrations in the wood of the instrument itself. Although it was long dead, the vibrations gave it the facsimile of life, and his powers were fantastically confused. Cyrus remembered that was why he loved doing this. Musicians brought dead wood back to Life.

The moment was cut prematurely short as a massive chunk of metal seemed to move in the walls around them. The sound was easily a thousand times as loud as a padlock sliding out of locked position. Cyrus kept playing for a few seconds, not registering what was going on. Luna, however, snapped directly to it and began to feel at the walls behind him. It seems a particular chord or melody in the song he was playing had set some type of trigger o�, just as he had suggested it could happen. Cyrus felt the life seem to drain out of the wood as the vibrations petered out. Quickly, he shot out his hand to collect residual Life Energy from it. It felt fresh, as if he was eating a cold apple. Behind him, Luna found a secret handle and pulled away, revealing a secret door right behind the piano shoved in the corner of the room.

“Don’t stop playing now. I always wanted to get in a �ght while some guy was playing music in


the background.” Luna said as Cyrus checked his artifact again. It was still full. “So do I,” Cyrus said, “but I’d rather not leave you alone down here now that they know we’re

coming.” “How many are we talking here, then?” Luna asked, stretching her hands. Cyrus put his

sensors out amidst the passage that had just opened up. Nothing lit up as living. No human forms were down there at all. He gave Luna a confused look. There was always at least one guy watching the inner sanctum or the door.

“Nobody’s home. At least, nobody I can sense.” “Jammed?” “No, I would sense that.” Cyrus couldn’t sense the layout of the room or what was in it, but he

could tell that the coast was clear when it came to any jamming auxilio facts or things of that nature. “Guess we got a lucky break.” Luna shrugged, being a little disappointed perhaps that she wouldn’t get to shock the living daylights out of somebody today, “Close the door behind you. I’m going in.”

Cyrus slid the hidden door back into place as Luna continued forwards. She hit a light switch, which lit up a hallway with several doors to either side. Upon looking in, they saw rooms that seemed to have the purpose of housing purists, but had no real information they could be interested in. As Cyrus and Luna expected, these people had a bit of a soft spot for their physical strength. In each room, a piece of exercise equipment was almost enshrined. Cyrus guessed that with the Earth mages’ considerable physical strength, most purists in this neighborhood had to struggle to keep up with them.

The treasure trove, however, was when they opened the double doors at the end of the hallway to come to a large planning room. The Javelin symbol was emblazoned on one of the walls, with a map of other purist strongholds being the centerpiece of the room.

“Let’s get taking.” Cyrus smiled as he took the lead. Luna stood at the doorway as if confused. He began to look into drawers and cabinets, looking for any useful documents. At �rst glance, nothing interesting made itself known. Mostly memos and reminders to members about domestic issues such as where each person’s lunch was kept and who it belonged to or what people in town were deserving of sabotage. Nothing relating to the destruction of Darkness showed its face.

“There a problem, Luna?” Cyrus asked when his partner in crime didn’t join him. She took another short pause before answering him.

“Why do you always call me Luna?” she shot back, de�ecting the question. “Well, it’s your name.” “My name is Centari. Luna’s my last name.” Luna walked into the room to join his search. “I’m not in the habit of being on �rst-name terms with people I barely know.” Cyrus looked

back to his documents. “I don’t call you Taltras.” “That’s an old name. It doesn’t apply anymore.”


“You say that, but I bet Cyrus DuPonte has never played piano like that before,” Luna remarked as she grabbed a document of her own.

“He hasn’t.” Cyrus blanked out for a moment, and then snapped back to reality, “Can we just focus on the mission?”

“Fine. We’ll talk about this later.” Cyrus tossed his “evidence” over his shoulder. It was a recipe for homemade chocolate chip

cookies. He then looked to a desk that held a portion of the room in itself, and found a single locked drawer.

“And there we have it,” Cyrus said as he pulled out his auxilifact. He loosed one shot of powerful energy into the lock, and it was blown wide open. After recharging the shot (just in case he needed it later,) Cyrus threw open the drawer and grabbed the �le that lay inside. It was labeled “Restricted,” which meant it must be good. He opened the �le and looked at the papers inside. What he found shocked him, which Luna must’ve felt as she looked over to him immediately with a face of concern.

Inside the �le were di�erent reports from all of the major purist organizations across the factions. Each one, in their own way, detailed the same information: Nobody had any idea what had caused The Nox Republic to disappear, and all were investigating to �nd out if whatever caused this could a�ect humans as well. Agents were placed everywhere, even a few in and around the Congress to gather information. The goal: to either stop the destruction before it targets everything, or to harness it and use it to annihilate magic forever. Each report detailed a di�erent speci�c plan. Most were bogus, and as Cyrus kept reading, he found out that most of these plans failed. Some, however, were gaining traction. The Devils, for instance, had already collected enough information to determine that the cause of the disappearance was magical in nature. Cyrus thanked the world for physical media.

“What is it? What did you �nd?” Luna practically �ew over to him. “Everything they have. The purists have as many clues as us—they’re running an operation

here that could probably compete with the NEST-F. They’re investigating to either stop it from destroying humanity, or to control it and destroy magic as we know it.”

Words could not describe the look that came over Luna’s face. She took the �le from him, apparently lacking belief. After a quick read, she realized what all of it meant, and looked back to Cyrus.

“Do you have any idea who else could—” Cyrus was interrupted by a loud reopening of the double doors. Five drubes had just snuck

upon them, and Cyrus wasn’t paying them any notice. They laughed as they came in, apparently from a joke, but then froze as they noticed the two strangely-armed �gures standing in their main hall. There were almost a full dozen seconds of awkward silence.

Before Cyrus could say anything, Luna launched a lightning bolt into the crowd, striking two of them and forcing the others to take cover. Cyrus responded by �nding shelter of his own behind the desk and pulling out his Auxilifact. Luna kicked over a table to give herself safety. Soon, the room was


swimming in bullets as �rearms were drawn and �red by the drubes. “What were you thinking, Luna?!” Cyrus yelled over the roar of �re. “Did you think they were going to let us leave?” Luna answered as electricity began to glow out

from her arms again. “No, but we could’ve tried! They’re not our enemies!” Cyrus then peeked out over his cover

and loosed a pulse of energy at the nearest drube. He was sent �ying and cracked against the wall behind him. One of the drubes struck by the lightning was dead, and the other was barely getting up. His search was cut short by three bullets lodging themselves in di�erent parts of his body.

“Of all the things!” Cyrus grunted as he moved his arms to the wounds. By channeling Life Energy, he was able to mend the �esh and push the bullets out. It barely even stung. He heard another lightning bolt boom into existence, followed by another scream. It was Luna’s. Cyrus looked to �nd her clutching her shoulder, trying to scorch the wound with smaller shocks. His magic would work better than that, once they had time. However, Cyrus didn’t have much energy left to burn like this. He peeked out of the side and �red again at another drube shooter. It glanced at her shoulder, sending her down to the ground. Cyrus also saw another smoking body on the ground, assumedly Luna’s most recent victim. Before the last well-equipped opponent could �re back, he retreated back behind his shelter. As he predicted, he was chased by another burst of shooting. Another peek and another shot and the last opponent able to �ght back was on the ground.

But Cyrus was then made aware of another problem: the most recent lightning strike had wavered and struck the hideout, causing a �re to break out. Cyrus and Luna rose up from their hiding places and made gestures to get out as fast as they could. On their way, Cyrus quickly tapped the shoulder of the wounded purist, hearing a small scream as the last of his life was squeezed out and pumped into Cyrus’s reserves. It was a faster death than burning at any rate.

As both of them passed through the doorway, which by now was ringed in �re, Cyrus heard Luna curse behind him.

“Damn it! Not now!” He turned around and saw Luna go after the �le that they had worked to get before it was

consumed by the �ames. Her hands were too late, and Cyrus pulled her back before she was hurt. “It’s not worth it. C’mon!” Cyrus yanked her along, getting out of the hideout quickly before

the �re could catch up. When they reentered the lounge room, they heard �re alarms being set o� throughout the hotel and heard people leaving in droves. Cyrus quickly healed Luna’s wound and left the lounge to join the crowds of people evacuating the building.

Together, the two purist hunters blended in as well as they could, although people around them were a bit concerned about the scent of burnt paper that surrounded them. They tried to look as concerned as the drubes, and luckily the authority at the moment were more concerned about the �re itself than what caused it. They were silent as the walked, although Cyrus de�nitely had questions for Luna. He looked to �nd her attempt to blend into the crowd looking more fake than his. As soon as it was convenient, they split o� and began to head back to where they stashed their car. Cyrus spoke his questions when he was sure it was safe.


“So, would you mind telling me what happened back there?” he asked in a hushed tone. “What do you mean, ‘what happened?’” Luna was less hushed, “We were ambushed, and I

defended myself.” “Yeah, but you could’ve gone easy on them. The least we could’ve done is leave one alive for

questioning, not to mention the �re—” “Things burn around people like us, Cyrus.” She waved him away, “It can’t be helped. You

know this.” “It could have been helped. They had information. The �rst real lead we have and it’s burned

to ash.” Cyrus looked over to her to see she was struggling, as if she was trying to �gure out what to say. “You read it, didn’t you?” “Not all of it. The �le was larger than just the reports I uncovered,” Cyrus said. “Damn.” She paused, and then stroked her arm in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, Cyrus.” “It’s alright, Luna, I just—” “It’s Centari,” she interrupted him. “I still can’t call you that. Not until I know what’s going on with you.” Cyrus paused. “Would

you like to tell me now why you’re so gung-ho about this?” Luna sighed. Cyrus saw her gather some sort of courage that made her resemble more the

woman he knew, and then she began to relay the story. “I grew up very poor. These gauntlets and conduits, they all came to me very recently. Gauss

didn’t like it when people lived up to their fullest back then, I guess. In any case, my family didn’t have a lot, but they had enough. We were mages, yeah, but we barely could use any of our powers. Mostly because we didn’t practice enough.” She laughed. “Mostly just little sparks or tiny light shows to wow each other and people on the street. It was calm, but a nice life, I think.”

Cyrus listened intently. Luna kept talking as they reached the car, and didn’t stop as she opened the door to enter. He followed her inside, �nding his comfort faster than he usually could.

“Then, there was a protest. It was just against some law or other being passed that the ‘normal people’ thought was speci�cally targeted towards them. We were a�ected too, and we were going to face hard times because of it, but they didn’t care. People with magic, with conduits, passed the whole thing through. Magic was the threat.”

She looked to the street, and then started the car up. Luna peeled o� the curb and began driving slowly but purposefully out of the area.

“My father went to the protests just to see what it was all about. He was always like that: liking to see historical events in action. His way of establishing himself, I guess. In a tense situation, his powers showed, and part of the crowd turned on him. My mother was caught trying to defend him. They took down one apiece, but were still both beaten within an inch of their lives. I barely knew how to use my powers. I shot sparks, but little else. They told me to run, and I did. Never saw them again.” Luna paused as she looked around to make sure the road was clear before crossing it, and then continued her route out of the city. I caught a glimpse of her face, and saw it gravely stricken. Driving must’ve made sharing this easier for her, but the pain of it still showed.


“I trained myself to use my powers to the best of my ability, and was caught by the local police for ‘anti-human vandalism.’ They decided I was more of an asset with my skills and knowledge of the city, and became an informant, trainee, cop, government agent with freely given conduits, and �nally the tester of brand new auxilifacts.”

She �exed her �ngers to show o� the gauntlets, then showed that the damage he saw before transformed into a smile. Cyrus could tell Luna was thinking of the mission in her mind.

“Some part of me always wanted to get back at the people who killed my family, and being assigned to the task force to protect the representative to the congress was my ticket for that. I went away from my post in search of allies for my �ght, and I found you. A kindred spirit.”

Centari looked at Cyrus. Knowing that was enough to turn her into a di�erent person in his eyes.

“I guess we are.” He sat back, happy with the result. “What?” Centari asked. “Kindred spirits.”


PART 2

THE MYSTERY


Prologue 2

Exactly forty days before Larry Greenman and Brian Folk crashed their truck south of Saint Paul, and thirty-eight days before the Darkness Faction was extinguished forever, King Isaac Dazzle collapsed in Castle Miami’s Walled Garden. It was called a garden, but it was really something of a forest; it was the �rst (and only) thing Isaac had changed about the fortress since he had taken power so many years ago.

The battle of Miami had brought an end to The Warring Times, and with it the reluctant end of the Gleam Dynasty. As a reward for helping usher in a new era of peace (or, according to the more conservative Miamians, his betrayal of King Gleam), the Alliance of Factions granted Isaac’s family the new holy mandate.

The decision was controversial at best, disastrous at worst, and certainly one that sparked rebellion after uprising after revolt across the nation. Isaac Dazzle was popular in his home region of Tampa—the Dazzle family had, after all, served as Lords in the region for as long as recorded history showed—but he struggled to capture that same level of adoration at a national level. The people in the East were angry he had turned against their king and government, and few could forgive him for allowing for a gap in the Wall of Light.

The Wall of Light was a terribly unclever term coined by King Gleam to refer to his defensive strategy. To his credit, he hadn’t had a long time to ponder the name: Katja Stern had managed to unify half of the factions in less than two years, and her so-called Alliance of Factions — something that had until then just been a punchline to a bad joke—was suddenly a very real, very frightening force. King Gleam was perhaps a bit too trusting, but he wasn’t stupid. He recognized the threat such an alliance posed to the Light Faction, and while Earth and Mind continued mocking Katja’s army (they would surrender to her less than a year later), Gleam was building a force not quite capable of defeating Katja’s, but at least capable of forcing it into a war of attrition. His advisors were skeptical of the King’s decision to invest so heavily into the Kingdom’s military. Isaac, at that time just Lord of Tampa, still remembered receiving that memo from Miami all these years later as he laid on his deathbed, that letter printed on plain paper, the words Top Secret watermarked across it a thousand times. It outlined a hopefully-we’ll-never-have-to-use-it strategy called the Wall of Light, a defensive line spanning from Jacksonville to the small beach town of Fishing Park, which was located in the far northern province of Isaac’s territory. Isaac followed orders and forti�ed that town like the Bastille.

And King Gleam’s plan worked marvelously. Fourteen months later, the Alliance of Factions, which contained every faction but Light,

demanded that King Gleam sign the Peace Accords. He refused, and the next day, the Alliance invaded Kingdom Miami. Their army was massive, but King Gleam’s Wall of Light was well-equipped and prepared. For six months the Alliance tried to break through the Wall of Light. They began with concentrated attacks on Jacksonville then, when that failed, attempted breaches at Lux Aeterna, then


Mayford, then eventually even Fishing Park. The Alliance tried naval invasions of Tampa and Miami, but Gleam had prepared for this as well, and enormous defensive structures on Amelia Island and Alligator Point kept Alliance ships in the North. Not even Water Mages could break the defense. Things had grinded to a standstill.

But as the sixth month faded to the seventh, then eighth, then ninth, things only got more grim. The Alliance was more than willing to match King Gleam’s aspirations of a war of attrition, but all the Light Faction needed to do to win that war was survive. And they were, by all accounts, surviving. Citizens in the northern factions began questioning whether a war this expensive, both �nancially and in terms of life, was really necessary (who really cares whether Light joins the alliance, anyway?) But at the same time, discontentment also grew in Kingdom Miami. People were hungry, sick. Supplies were rationed.

Thirty years after Isaac Dazzle collapsed the Wall of Light in Fishing Park, allowing the Alliance troops to breach the front, people still claimed he did it to seize power in Miami. He would be lying if he denied that that had been a factor in his decision (which he did deny, and often, even to his own wife, even to himself, except on nights where he was feeling especially re�ective). In truth, though, Isaac had decided to betray his country and his king for his people . Nowhere felt the grip of the dead hands of attrition greater than the people of Tampa. When he ran out of enlisted soldiers, Isaac, per the request of the king and communicated to him by the federal liaison to Tampa, an up-and-coming politician by the name of Ainsley Flicker, implemented a draft. He read the names himself on state television, then when those names inevitably perished on the front, he would meet with their grieving parents, widows, and children. Some of those family members would beg him to stop the war, to just ask King Gleam to sign those damned Peace Accords and let it all be over, but worse than that, most didn’t . Isaac Dazzle would say, “I’m so sorry for your loss. I can’t imagine the pain of what you’re going through, but I want you to know this—your son/brother/husband was a hero.” and they would, through teary eyes, say, “That’s damned right. Now make those Northern fuckers pay for this.” Every time he heard something like that, he felt like a piece of his own soul was being removed by hot pinchers, like Prometheus on the rock, the eagle devouring his liver in perpetuum. His bright blue, sun-kissed eyes began to fade, just like the glow from his skin. And that was why he had done it.

Even after assuming his titles, and even after suppressing the thousand movements and failed coups against him, that light never came back to the man. That was the Isaac Dazzle that Evelyn Coil, now Queen Evelyn Dazzle , then found herself attached to. Isaac had never been on the front line during that war, but he had su�ered wounds just like his soldiers. He was never short with her, and of course never abusive, angry, or violent, but like his eyes, Isaac just sort of faded .

They had met nineteen years before that war on a sunken patch of shore on Lake Hancock. Isaac would inherit his position as Lord of Tampa after his father died of heart failure just fourteen months later, but at that time the weight of the world hadn’t yet found its way onto his teenage shoulders. He was fourteen, Evelyn a month his senior. He had gotten into trouble pranking his younger brother three days earlier, and his parents had sent him to their lake retreat as a punishment, dreadfully unaware that time away from home—away from them—was a dream come true for a boy


his age. So he spent that week dawdling through the woods on the lake shore, watching the squirrels, sometimes playing make-pretend, sometimes wading into the water to see if he was fast enough to catch any minnows in his hands. Eveyln, whose family happened to be vacationing there the same week, watched him from the branches of the trees, unbeknownst to him. She watched him play alone there in the forest and in the water from morning to midday a day before she built up enough courage to call to him. She knew that was a creepy thing to do, but something about watching him had mesmerized her so starkly, the way his crystal-blue eyes seemed to catch the shine of the water and just glowed , the way his entire body just moved in perfect sync. Then, that night, she set her alarm to 5 a.m. for the next morning, early enough to make it back to that same spot in that same tree and wait for hours, hoping he would come by again. She would never tell him that; as far as King Isaac knew to this day, their interaction the following afternoon had been the �rst time she had laid eyes on him, their meeting a total coincidence of fate. But she had been waiting for him, and when he appeared her heart had �uttered in a way she didn’t quite understand yet at the age of fourteen, a girl raised by a conservative family on a remote farm where the only boys she ever saw were her brothers and sometimes the newspaper boy on his bicycle. All she knew was that she wanted to talk to him, be with him. And so, the next day, when he had gone after the minnows, she had called down to him, “Ever think about using a net?” and he had been so startled that he had fallen backwards into the water, soaking himself through. The week had ended on that same tree branch, Evelyn’s back pressed tightly against Isaac’s bare chest, his arms wrapped gently around her, his chin resting on her shoulder as a crisp wind rattled the leaves and the sun sank behind the trees on the far side of the lake. “I promise I’ll �nd you again,” he whispered past her, the warm moisture from his breath settling on the back of her ear. “ You’re mine forever. And I’m yours. ”

He had found her again, years later, and they had married, despite the wishes of his mother, as his father had since passed, and despite the fact that she was a Grey (which no one, except him, ever learned. It would have been illegal for a lord to marry a Grey, and so he had her records destroyed and replaced with fraudulent ones). When Isaac had been called at age nineteen to lead an army against the Nox Republic, Evelyn had run Tampa herself, and Isaac’s advisors, spare the good-natured Ainsley, had initially sco�ed at her low-birth status, though they slowly learned to respect her �rm hand and kind heart. Isaac had won every battle he had fought in the North, and rumors spoke that he might have been the greatest Light Mage to ever be born into Kingdom Miami. King Gleam, perhaps frustrated with his lord’s growing popularity, or perhaps simply fearing a dissolution of the open-borders arrangement with The Holy Sanctuary of the Mother, summoned the young general home. Even then, after two years of �ghting, Isaac was still Isaac, though he refused to speak of what had happened in the North, or of the �ghting. Evelyn had chosen to respect that decision.

The birth of their �rst son had nearly brought that Isaac back. When they had placed the small Leopold into Isaac’s open arms, the King hadn’t smiled, but his eyes had twinkled the same way a mirror �ashes when it catches the light, and the shock of having become a mother (and all the pain that had come with it) retreated deep inside Evelyn for a brief moment when she saw it. She would remember that spark for the rest of her life. She thought, for a �eeting fraction of a fraction of a


second, that her forever might be back. But it was a hopeful thought, and he became absent again like that, a shell of a man, at least from what he showed. Evelyn, the daughter of two farmers, now lived in an extravagant castle. She was the queen, a mother, a loyal wife. But she was alone.

Isaac was not a shell of a man, not really. Not on the inside. He found it di�cult to stay engaged in the world, though, and had more than once considered abandoning it with a short step o� his tower bedroom’s terrace, though he never quite built the courage to do it. Besides, he told himself, there were people counting on him here, not just in Miami or the Light Faction, but across the entire continent. He was the man who had signed the Peace Accords, the most critical decision of his life, and maybe even his best decision. He had ended the Warring Times. His life was no longer his to take.

And he had always loved that Walled Garden. It was a good few acres, and deep inside the forest, light struggled to reach through the thick tangle of leaves above. A wall had been erected in a semi-circle around the Garden, from Castle Miami’s northern tower down past the groves and along the cli�s above the beach, past the foundation of the Beacon, so far that it connected on the south-eastern tower. But King Isaac had insisted a gap be left there, a pass of sorts, so that the animals could enter and retreat freely. His security had wanted to stock the Garden with wildlife and seal it shut, for his own protection as they put it, so the compromise had been a small tunnel through the wall, hidden from the outside by a tangle of bushes, but large enough for the rabbits and sometimes even the deer. And, unbeknownst to him, large enough for the new mother Queen Evelyn Dazzle to �t through, as she often did to evade the guards and escape the castle unseen during the few months before Lorenzo’s conception, an activity she would stop upon her second son’s birth, then resume a few years later.

As soon as Leopold was seven—what Isaac considered wielding age—he took the boy to a place deep in the forest as the sun fell, their path lit only by a single lantern. Leopold was thrilled. His father rarely spent time with him outside of their twice-a-week family dinner, which often felt to the young boy more like a dress rehearsal than a family meeting at all. He would change from jeans and a t-shirt to slacks and a button-down before the meal and hardly ever said anything, except for when his father asked him a question, which he would answer promptly and concisely. He had grown much closer to his mother in those early years, but had a sort of severe admiration for his father’s coldness, one that he would spend a great deal of time in his teens justifying to himself as respect.

“What are we doing here?” the young Leopold had asked that night. “I’m teaching you to wield Light,” Isaac told his son. Leopold scrunched up his face. “But there’s no light here.” Isaac laughed. “Exactly.” He lifted the lantern to eye level and extinguished it with a single

blow. Leopold could hear a swoosh sound as the darkness collapsed in on him, like the moment before an ocean wave crashes on you. He was blind here. Blind . Even the light from the Beacon was lost to the Darkness. “Don’t panic,” his father said.

But young Leopold couldn’t help himself. “There’s no light ,” he whined. “That’s right. We’re here to learn to wield.” “But there’s only darkness .”


“Light shines the brightest in darkness, doesn’t it?” Leopold saw a faint white glow a few feet away, a glow that intensi�ed into an orb, shining softly, like a tiny, dull star. Leopold’s eyes had widened, illuminated by the glimmering spectre, and Isaac saw something special in them — the sky blue of his eyes pulled in the light from the orb and shone with them. He can source the light , he thought to himself with a certain sense of pride (that he would likely never express to his son).

“Where’s that light coming from?” Leopold asked him, not turning to look at the source of his father’s voice, his eyes trans�xed by the ball of light, shining. “It’s too dark to pull light from the sky…”

“It’s not coming from the sky. It’s coming from me . The sun gives us light, but it’s weak. The strongest light is the light we create ourselves, from inside. Light from emotion. ”

“We can create light?” Leopold’s voice cracked on the word create , betraying his astonishment, and Isaac quenched the orb, again leaving them in darkness.

“We can,” he told his son. “Not all Light wielders. But you’re a Dazzle. A prince. My son.” By now his eyes had adjusted to the dim light, and he moved behind his son to help direct his stance. Leopold let him position his arms into a �rm line in front of him, his palms pressed �atly against one another, like he was praying. Isaac kicked his feet apart into an athletic stance, then stepped away.

“Light is not like the other elements,” he said. “It is a defensive element. Experienced wielders of any of the other factions will easily beat you if you try to use it as an o�ensive one. But use it to protect yourself, and you’re all but invincible. You can exhaust your opponent, then strike. That’s how I won all my battles in Nox.”

Leopold stood idly by, feeling awkward in this position, his nose itching but too afraid to break his stance.

“You only wield when absolutely necessary ,” his father continued. “Not to show o� to your friends, not to impress a girl, not even in a brawl at school. Not even when you’re alone, do you understand? You only use it here, with me, until I tell you otherwise.” Isaac paused, and when Leopold said nothing, he repeated, “Do you understand?”

“Yes, father.” “Good. A person who wields Light frivolously will never master its true strength. Its power

comes from its limitations. A good Light Mage’s power comes from his restraint.” “But how do I create light?” “You don’t. Some people, like you, simply have the light inside you. The trick is getting it out.

But before you can do that, you have to �nd it.” “How can I do that?” “Search for a memory, one where you’ve felt some emotion—doesn’t matter which one for

now—so strongly that it felt like it might just lift you o� your feet.” Leopold didn’t have to think long. A few months prior, he had climbed over Castle Miami’s

battlements in play and leaned far out over the side, so far that he felt like he could see the entire kingdom, his kingdom. So far, unfortunately for him, that he lost his balance. A guard, who had rushed to him the moment he saw the young boy’s plan, just managed to catch his collar and yank him back onto the walls. But for a �eeting second, Leopold had been falling. The air had �ed from his lungs


like the air from a balloon when someone stuck a needle in it, and his face had gone cold, his eyes wide. He was, in that moment, dead. Until someone pulled him back from the abyss.

Leopold latched onto that emotion, that fear, and nodded to his father. Isaac nodded back. “Where do you feel it?” he asked. “In my stomach,” Leopold responded. “Upper or lower?” Leopold had to think about that for a moment. Then he responded, “Lower.” “Is it fear or sadness?” Leopold didn’t know how his father knew that, but he responded promptly. “Fear.” “Fear is a �ne start. Now, I want you to imagine, for a moment, that that feeling is a current, a

living one, like a serpent inside you.” Leopold did as his father said. “You don’t control that serpent, but you can direct it, with practice. Bring it from your lower stomach to your upper stomach.” Leopold again followed his father’s instructions. At �rst nothing happened, but he pictured a snake in his belly again, an angry thing.

Up , Leopold thought at it. It hissed, but did not move. Leopold scrunched up his face. UP! “Don’t try to force it, just ask it softly,” his father told him. Leopold softened his tone, and the

serpent’s angry face too softened. It did as he asked. “Good,” his father continued. The boy’s face was etched with concentration, visible even in his light. “Now bring it over your armpits, through your forearms to your hands, but don’t let it into your �ngers. Now —”

A blue glow started to form beneath the skin of Leopold’s hands. Blue, a weak light, one summoned by fear or sadness. Isaac said, “Open your eyes, son.”

Leopold looked at his own hands, shocked. A smile broke out on his face, and a second later, the glow �ickered out. Leopold tried to illuminate them back, but to no success.

“You’ll get it in time,” Isaac told him. “But that’s enough for tonight. We’ll try again next week.”

They did practice the next week, and the next. On the �fth week Leopold formed an orb in front of him—much less impressive than his father’s, but still something quite remarkable—and on the sixth, began to learn to use anger to conjure light.

“Anger is more powerful than fear,” his father had told him. “As such, it is more di�cult to control.”

“Is anger the most powerful?” Leopold had asked inquisitively. “No,” was all his father responded. “What is?” “What do you think?” Leopold scratched his chin. “Love?” Isaac pu�ed from his nose in a coy snicker. “Your mother’s been showing you too many Disney

movies. No, it’s not love, though love is powerful.” He had said no more, and Leopold didn’t press him on it.


It would be another year before Leopold learned to use pride for his sourcing, and he would continue to use pride a decade later. Pride was also not the most powerful emotion (it was actually weaker than love), but it was all he had mastered. It was pride that would fuel the light he lit the torch in his dying father’s bedroom with before departing for the Congress.

Sometimes, Leopold liked to practice in the Walled Garden alone. His father had told him never to come alone, but their weekly training sessions weren’t enough to improve at the rate he wanted to. It was during one of these solo, forbidden sessions that Leopold saw his mother trekking alone through a forest, a lantern in hand. He was ten at the time.

Leopold would call out to her, ask why she was awake so late at night, but he knew he wasn’t supposed to be here, and that making his presence known would only cause trouble. So he extinguished his light and waited for her to pass by, listening to her soft footsteps crackle the leaves, her oddly labored breaths in�icting him with concern. She was headed to the southeast tower, where there was nothing but the garden wall, a forty-foot stone thing. What was she doing out by herself so late? Where could she possibly be going? Leopold’s curiosity seized control of his body, and so despite his better judgement, he followed her, his boyish agility concealing him masterfully. She strode forward with purpose, determined, as though she knew exactly what she was doing. And Leopold knew his mother always knew what she was doing.

She reached the base of the tall wall, where the ground was an unkempt mess of foliage and bushes and vines that reached up the stones towards the dark sky, and didn’t stop for even a moment. Leopold thought she might walk straight into the stonework. But she vanished there, as if she had simply passed through the wall like a ghost. He crept closer to the spot she had disappeared.

He hadn’t seen it from a slight distance, but the ground sloped down ever so gently here, the tiny divot falling straight into a particularly matted collection of bush-branches and grass. He mimicked his mother, walking straight into it. The branches pulled at his face and jacket and hair, and he had to hold his arms up defensively to keep them from his eyes, but at no point did he run up against the dark stone of that wall. Instead, he emerged into another forest, this one much thinner than the Walled Garden. He turned around, confused. There, behind him, was the mess from which he had emerged. And above it towered the wall. He realized it was a gap here—a passage—straight to the outside, concealed by the underbrush. He was outside Castle Miami. A shiver ran down his spine. Outside Castle Miami .

But he could again hear his mother’s footsteps up ahead, albeit softly, and so he set o� once again in pursuit. The forest here thinned out as he moved forward, and he found himself at the edge of the treeline, a grassy hill rolling down in front of him. His mother was there, on that hill, headed toward the beach. He waited until she was past the dunes on the shore before breaking from his cover in the trees, then ran over the �eld and snuck atop the dune.

The beach was empty at this hour. The moonlight put a silver mask on the dark water and painted the sand blue. It was so quiet that he could hear the waves lapping the shore, even from this distance. It was peaceful at this hour, which Leopold falsely interpreted as eerie. A paranoid nagging pulled at the back of his mind, telling him to turn around and check that he hadn’t been followed, and


so he did. Behind him was nothing but the �eld. Atop the hill, beyond the forest, he could see the high battlements of Castle Miami and the tower from which the Beacon shot a �rm ray of white light far into the atmosphere, so bright, people said, that aliens thousands of light-years away mistook it for a star. The castle seemed so far away...he didn’t think he had traveled so far.

Leopold shook those distractions from his mind and turned back around. The beach was empty, spare a few bungalows perhaps a quarter-mile to his left. They were quaint but luxurious little huts with thatched roofs, built on stilts over the sandbank in the water and organized in two C shapes, connected to one another and the shore by a series of wooden bridges. They were abandoned this time of year—the vacationers from Jacksonville and Tallahassee wouldn’t be here until May at the earliest. But the light from one of them was on. And so Leopold set o� in that direction.

Even his ten-year-old brain was mature enough to question whether what he was doing was wrong, but he shook that thought from his mind and marched onward. He needed to know now. He climbed aboard the bridge and moved slowly out over the ocean. The gentle splashing of the waves against the support posts below helped mask the creaking of the wooden boards. The lit bungalow came closer to him, like it was approaching him , and he noticed a pain in his stomach. No, not a pain, but nerves. He was nervous about what he might see inside, though he had no idea why. This anxious feeling was more compelling than his morality, so he again considered �eeing back home, but he kept on, his feet moving beneath him with a will of their own. He reached the door, placed a hand on the doorknob. He pressed his ear against the door and heard muted tones, indistinct. He tried turning the doorknob, but it caught. Locked . He looked for a window next. The nearest was a few feet o� the bridge, hovering over the water. A thin wooden beam ran the length of the house’s base, so he shimmied along that, grasping the space between the paneling. He peeked around the corner, through the open window.

He was only ten years old, but he understood what he saw there. A boy at his private school had described it to him once, in great detail. At �rst Leopold had been doubtful (the entire process seemed rather unpleasant to him), but his health teacher had later con�rmed the boy’s story as mostly true.

It was his mother, naked, and someone else whose face Leopold never saw, together in the bungalow’s shared bedroom-living room, doing what his health teacher had called sex . Leopold’s face turned white like death, just like when he had nearly fallen from Castle Miami’s wall, and his muscles froze. He screamed as his �ngers, now tight and locked, lost grasp on the paneling. His mother looked up, and he could swear her face turned as white as his. And then he fell.

It was only �ve feet, but he would later remember that second in the air as an hour. His brain spun like wild, trying to process everything at once, but grasping none of it. Then he hit the water.

He didn’t even try to swim. He allowed himself to sink below, dragged down by his baggy sweatpants and cotton jacket. He couldn’t hear anything under the surface except the sound of his own beating heart, and even that seemed mu�ed, slow.


Then a hollow bang , and he felt a burst of water rush over him, a strong arm wrap underneath his armpit, across his chest, and grab the sleeve of his jacket. She pulled him towards the surface and emerged from the water with a panicked gasp.

Ten minutes later, she sat next to him in the sand on the beach. Evelyn had not been wearing anything when she had dove into the water, so her clothes were dry. Leopold had been soaked, so his mother had stripped his clothes o� and wrapped him in a towel from the bungalow. Over his shoulders she threw a man’s suit jacket. Neither said anything for a long time. Evelyn �nally spoke.

“Do you understand what you just saw?” Leopold watched the ocean ripple. “Yes,” he answered simply. His mother sighed, and they

were quiet again, this time for not as long. “Do you want to ask any questions?” Her voice was frail, broken. Leopold shook his head no in

a bold lie, and Evelyn squirmed a bit. “Your father doesn’t know,” she said to him, answering the question he had wanted to ask but was too afraid to. “It’s wrong what I did. I won’t lie to you, Leo, but I haven’t been a very good person lately.”

“Is that the only time?” he asked. Evelyn’s eyes looked sad. “No,” she said. “I did this once before, years ago. Before your brother was born.” Leopold was hit by a sudden burst of fear. His eyes shot wide. “Is Lorenzo —” “No,” she answered �rmly. “Lorenzo is your brother, my son. Your father’s son.” Her words reassured Leopold. She pulled him into a hug and held him there for a long time,

then �nally pulled him to his feet and walked with him back toward the castle. The last thing she said to him before bringing him to bed was, “I love you so much, Leo.” The second to last thing she said was, “We’ll keep this a secret, okay?”

Leopold didn’t need any clari�cation. He nodded his head, and she smiled. He loved his mother, and believed every word she said like it was written in the Bible, but he

could never shake the doubt about Lorenzo. It wasn’t until he was a teenager studying at the Class One Academy in the Mind Faction that he had con�rmed her promise to him that night. He tested Lorenzo’s DNA against his father’s and mother’s—it matched. There was no doubt about it anymore. Lorenzo was his father’s son. And he kept his promise to her. He never told anyone—not Ainsley, who his father had brought with him after the war to the royal court, and who had essentially raised Lorenzo himself as a surrogate father, just as Leopold had been raised by Evelyn. He didn’t tell Lorenzo, and certainly didn’t tell his father. He never brought it up with his mother again. Eventually, Lorenzo would start joining him and his father on their weekly trips into the Walled Garden (the sessions became much duller after that, as Lorenzo had no ability to source light, and so their father would keep the lantern lit for him), and Leopold would feel funny, knowing he knew something they didn’t, a secret that could rip apart their family—and the rest of Kingdom Miami—into two pieces. But he was loyal. He never betrayed his mother. Never .

Leopold did not betray Evelyn, not even when he learned of his impending marriage to Edna Cornicus, the esteemed actress from Saint Paul. She was of the Darkness Faction. Leopold sometimes made insensitive jokes at the other factions’ expense in private, but he harbored no deep-rooted hatred


or loathing for them. Did he care for them? Well...no, not really. But he wished them no ill will. And, by all accounts, Edna was beautiful. But it wasn’t right, not for him, and so he had told his father “No” as though that might achieve something which, of course, it had not. “You will marry her,” Isaac had responded coldly, but not even with a hint of malice. “It is necessary to maintain peace on this continent. And it’s high-time you �nd a wife. By the time I was your age, I had been married to your mother for nearly a decade.”

All annoying generational expectation clichés aside, that last point had frustrated Leopold to no end, especially as his father continued to disregard his protests. It was at that point that his loyalty was again tested, and he wanted to shout at his father, “Your marriage is a failure! Your own wife—my mother, our queen— fucked someone else and you never even found out about it! You are pathetic!” He never said anything of the kind.

Leopold did not betray Evelyn, not even a year later when his father, ill and bed-ridden, summoned him to his chambers. Leopold, now twenty-�ve, opened the door cautiously. His father was propped against his bed’s backboard with pillows. He was connected to a series of complicated machines, one of which produced a rhythmic beep...beep...beep medical sound. The room was musty and smelled of dirt, so Leopold used his wielding to light the torch next to the King’s bed.

Leopold hadn’t been there when it happened—when his father had collapsed in the Walled Garden clutching his chest, thankfully with Ainsley nearby. It was a stroke, the doctors said, brought on by a tumor in his brain. If he hadn’t had the stroke, they may never have caught it. It was a blessing in disguise, apparently. Leopold looked at his father now, shriveled and pale, and struggled to see how such could be a blessing of any kind.

“I’m not well enough to travel,” King Isaac said to his son. “I’m sending you to that Congress in my stead. To represent the interests of Kingdom Miami.”

“Father, I think you might �rst consider Ainsley, or perhaps —” “No.” He spoke the word de�nitively. “Ainsley will accompany you there, but you will be our

delegate.” He broke out into a �t of coughing, prompting a group of nurses to rush to his side. He shooed them away. “You are my son. You are a Dazzle.”

And that was that.


Chapter 24 Charlie/Leo/Ashton — Interrogation Charlie lifted her head o� of the cold metal table. She blinked wearily. She was surrounded by

sheets of steel, metal walls designed to re�ect the light directly into the prisoner’s eye. Charlie blinked quickly, trying to get used to the bright light directed at her face. She moved her hands backwards— Oh. Right. They don’t trust Decay scum , Charlie thought to herself, eyeing the steel handcu�s encircled around her wrists. They were made of a thick metal—too thick to try and break. Charlie sighed.

Of fucking course. She tried to think back to how she had gotten here. Ah, yes. Those people in Saint Paul. The

only thing she could remember were the steel plates embedded in the inside of the car. She pulled at the handcu�s. The only thing she recieved was a sharp pain in her wrists. She paused and looked around. Fine, if they were going to behave this way…

She began to pull even harder. She pulled pulled pulled until blood began to drip down her wrists, staining the steel of the handcu�s ruby. Suddenly, the door swung open, and a handsome blond young man in a dull yellow suit ran in. “Whoa, whoa, relax there, sport.” “What the fuck?” He narrowed his eyes at her. She suddenly felt an odd sensation on her wrists, rubber perhaps?

She looked down and— “You’re from the Light faction,” she said, stilling her jerky movements. It was futile now, with

thin, glimmering light shields encircling her wrists, separating them from the sharp edges of the handcu�s. He grimaced apologetically.

“Yes, I am from the Light Faction. But I’m not creating those.” He stopped with that, waiting for her to speak, and sat himself in the seat across the table from her. When she didn’t answer, with some poorly hidden pride, he said, “I’m Light’s delegate to the Interfactional Congress, in fact.”

His words, of course, meant nothing to her. She tilted her head, narrowing her eyes. “What Interfactional Congress?”

His politician's smile faltered for a moment. “I suppose you wouldn’t know,” he said with a tone of faux understanding. Most of his emotions, she could tell, were only half-real. “Well, you see, after the...erm, events in Saint Paul, the various factions called together a diplomatic…”

Charlie tuned the rest out; he spoke in the way a kindergarten teacher might talk to a student, in an almost condescending way, an aggravating way even.

Interrupting the politician, she bluntly stated, “I don’t give a shit. Who are you? Clearly you’re someone important if you’re here for the Interfactional Congress unless you slept your way to the top.” She gave him a judgemental onceover. “You likely did.”


He smiled. “I’ve done my fair share of both, to be honest.” He ran a hand through his hair, clearly amused by his own statement. “But yes, I am someone important. The next king of Kingdom Miami. Leopold .”

“You’re King Isaac’s bastard.” “ Heir ,” he corrected her. “Not a bastard. Totally legitimate.” “Whatever, Razzle Dazzle. You the only one here?” She placed her feet on the table and leaned

backward, tipping the chair back. “Besides you, yes. In fact, besides myself and Sister Wanda Duponte, no one even knows you

exist.” Charlie nodded slowly. “Is she the one staring at me through the two-way mirror behind me?” she said, mouth tilting

into a smirk. She raised a single �nger and pointed behind her. Razzle Dazzle didn’t seem surprised. He nodded his head slowly. “You can come out now, Madam Duponte. No need to hide behind glass anymore!” Charlie

yelled, refusing to pull her gaze from that cocky bastard Razzle Dazzle’s blue eyes. The prince loosened his tie around his neck and unbuttoned his vest. There were tiny beads of

sweat forming at the base of his hairline—her power, that dreadful Decay leak, was beginning to a�ect him. He was strong to endure so long without letting his discomfort show. A few more minutes in here with him, and he might start to feel lightheaded. Thirty minutes, he might pass out. An hour, he’d be dead.

The door behind Charlie creaked open. Charlie turned her head to see Wanda enter. She was a gorgeous woman, young, and with

piercing green eyes like a cat. She moved gracefully across the room and sat herself atop the table next to the prince. No one spoke for a minute. Razzle Dazzle let his gaze drift between Charlie and Wanda, but Wanda’s eyes stayed �xed on Charlie like a hawk sizing up its prey.

“Why am I here?” Charlie had a sneaking suspicion it was about the murders she committed, but she was protected by the Peace Accords. She shouldn’t be here.

“That’s a question for you captors, not us,” Razzle Dazzle said �atly. “But as long as you’re in our custody, we’d just like to talk. Talk about the device.”

“What device?” “The one that harnesses your people’s power. The one that was used to murder everyone in

Saint Paul. It’s real, isn’t it?” Charlie couldn’t breathe. Just like that, her con�dence vanished, like Wanda had sucked it out

of her with just her eyes. Charlie’s feet slipped o� of the table. They weren’t supposed to know . “Yes. It’s real.” Wanda watched on, amused, her eyes betraying that she was enjoying this moment, savoring it.

Razzle Dazzle sat forward. “Where is it?” he spoke, his tone now dead serious. “I don’t have it.” She paused, then quietly mumbled, “ He does.”


“Who is he ?” The prince’s eyes were wide, his jaw set. His hands, Charlie noticed, were clenched as �sts under the table.

“I don’t know his name. He never told me.” “A friend of yours?” Razzle Dazzle tried again. “At least tell us what he looks like.” His mouth

was set in a thin line. Charlie smirked and placed her feet back onto the top of the table. “Normal.” “I see.” Leopold reclined back in his chair, sarcastically mimicking her casual attitude. “We’re

going to play games. Remember when I said that only Wanda and I know you’re here?” He raised his eyebrows. “That could go either way for you.”

“Well, clearly there are more witnesses standing behind that two-way mirror. I can sense them. Nice try.”

“Ainsley, a member of my sta�. Loyal to me.” “Torture me, murder me, I don’t care. I deserve it. He used me. I tried to stop him.” She got

quiet. “I tried to stop him twice, �rst at Decay, then at Darkness. But he outsmarted me both times. And he’s not done. He has a plan.”

Leopold tilted his head. “What’s the next step to his plan?” “He wants the Batteries. All of them.” Charlie noticed Wanda’s eyes light up. Not with

intrigue. With fear, maybe, though she tried her best to hide it. “He took the Decay Absorption Orb,” Charlie continued. “Then he took the Battery in the Darkness faction. I don’t know what he wants next.”

“Where is the rest of Decay?” Wanda �nally spoke. Her voice was taut. “Dead.” Thump. Thump. Thump. Charlie could hear the pairs’ heartbeats picking up. Razzle Dazzle and Wanda looked at one another nervously. “If you don’t believe me,” Charlie said, “go see for yourself. We were camped under the Man of

the Mountain. By the blu�s. North.” Razzle Dazzle stood and paced around the table. With an aggravated sigh, he left the room.

Charlie watched him go, then turned her attention to Wanda. “Is Razzle Dazzle your friend?” she asked Wanda. Wanda didn’t answer. She didn’t even change

her expression. The room suddenly felt very cold. “Your energy is strong. Some of the strongest of any Decay wielder I’ve ever met.” “Have you met many Decay Faction members?” “A few. We share the same family.” “You know that I’m telling the truth, don’t you?” Still, no reaction. “You can feel our absence.”


Wanda shivered “Yes. The Decay energy, it tastes...refreshing. It’s very dangerous, but I would be lying if I said my people weren’t hungry for it.”

Charlie felt herself fade back into her chair. “That’s weird.” “Maybe.” “But your people exiled my people.” “I’m aware.” “Why?” Wanda ignored her, standing from the table. She walked around it, and placed a single pale

hand on Charlie’s shoulder. Charlie gasped, hands �inging to her shoulder. Where Wanda’s hand touched, a spreading

feeling of wrongness , of death grew. Charlie knew if she were to touch the skin around her shoulder, her skin would feel cold and lifeless. She knew how to kill .

“This device. How does it work?” Wanda asked coldly. Her piercing green eyes bore into Charlie’s soul, and she squealed in pain like a stuck pig .

“Please!” “Answer the question, and I can reanimate your body.” Charlie grabbed onto her arm. The cold, it burnt . “It was a way for us to control our power, so we wouldn’t kill everything around us anymore! It

was never meant to be a weapon!” Wanda’s grip tightened. “I told you what you wanted to know! Let go of me!” “No one knows you’re here.” Charlie’s eyes widened. This monster was going to kill her. Charlie quickly shut her eyes. She frantically reached out with her mind and felt all of Wanda’s

life processes. With a gasp, she shut o� Wanda’s lungs. Wanda’s grip on her arm disappeared, and Charlie scrambled away from the monster, standing

on the other side of the table. She gripped her left arm close to her body. She couldn’t feel it. Couldn’t move it.

“It was meant to protect us! We were using it as a safety net!” Charlie screamed. As Wanda’s hands scrambled to her neck, Charlie released her hold on Wanda's lungs, allowing her to stay in ragged gasps of air. They sat there for a few moments in silence, Wanda’s hands on her neck, where the skin had bruised. She kept her head down.

And then, softly, her voice a bit raspy, but �rm, Wanda asked, “Was it a Battery?” Charlie could hear the quick intakes of breath, the dread waiting on her answer. “No. Not yet.” Charlie could almost feel the relief �owing through Wanda. Her breaths became more at ease

and her face relaxed into a calmer state. Charlie drew in a quick breath.


“Did you get that?” Leopold asked. Ainsley nodded, and Leopold bit his lip nervously. “The Light Battery...it’s in the Beacon still, right?”

“I haven’t heard otherwise.” Leopold watched through the glass as Wanda stood up from the �oor. Charlie sat still, staring

blankly like death. It was a disturbing scene to watch, but Wanda had told him not to interfere, or get involved, no matter what.

Karla had assured him that the interrogation room could contain Charlie’s Decay leak, but somehow he felt unsafe here. He could still feel her presence. He looked to his palm, where there was a small, sickly black spot on his skin. It throbbed, it hurt. And it had appeared on his skin after just a few moments of being in the room with her.

Decay . From her place there on the �oor, still rubbing her bruised neck, she turned to face him, and for a moment it felt like they locked eyes, even through the one-way mirror. A shiver ran down Leopold’s back.

“Well, make sure someone checks,” he said to Ainsley. “And send word back to Miami to triple the guards stationed there.”

“Yes, sir.” The door clicked open, and Wanda entered the room. She thankfully had the sense to shut it

behind her. “The Batteries,” Leopold said, not wasting a second. “Is it safe?” Wanda seemed o�ended. “Of course. Light isn’t the only faction capable of protecting its relics.” “If this man that she talked about is really trying to collect them…” “It’s protected by the Mother herself, in the Tree of Life,” Wanda said softly. “It would take an

army to take it from us.” That much, at least, was a relief. The Light Faction had discovered their own Battery centuries

ago and had speculated amongst the top scholars in Castle Miami that other factions must have Batteries as well. The existence of such had probably been one of the best kept secrets in Kingdom Miami; it played better for the Light Faction if other factions were ignorant about their own Batteries, and didn't protect them. The Battery was the source of the faction’s power—destroy the Battery, and no one would be able to wield anymore, which would be great leverage should the Peace Accords ever break down.

Leopold turned to Ainsely. “Which factions have their Batteries and where are they keeping them?” Ainsley laughed.

“That’s not exactly public information.” Leopold hu�ed mockingly. “It’s truly a shame that Kingdom Miami has no means of accessing

secret information.” Ainsley tilted his head but said nothing, so Leopold hu�ed again, for real this time. “That was sarcasm,” he explained. “Figure out where they are.”

“Should we warn the other factions that someone might be after their Batteries?” “No.” Leopold looked at Wanda as he said the word. “This information stays between the three

of us for now.”


Tap. Tap. Leopold spun around. Charlie stood at the mirror, running a �nger along the glass in the shape of a frowny face.

“The four of us,” he corrected himself. “We don’t need to create a panic.” “And what about the kids who brought her in?” Wanda asked. Shit . Leopold had forgotten about them. “Let me take care of them,” he said. “You just try to

�gure out who this mysterious villain is.” Wanda nodded her agreement, then left the room without further comment. Leopold turned

to follow her out, but Ainsley grabbed his arm. “Are you okay with this?” he asked, nicking his head in the direction of the girl. Leopold

frowned. “Okay with what?” “You saw what Wanda did to that girl. With her powers.” Wanda had been aggressive with her, yes. But Charlie had been aggressive as well. The whole

thing was a Life Faction freakshow. Not his concern. No, they were literally discussing the end of the world as they knew it. Perhaps some desperate measures were warranted. Leopold shrugged Ainsely’s hand o�.

“It’s under control.” Outside, in the main precinct, Wanda was already gone. The room was empty, spare for a small

squad of Air Faction guards, the three glory-seekers who brought the girl in, and Karla Gustough. Everyone looked at him at the same time, but he went to Karla �rst.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” she said. “It was di�cult to shake the press.” “I completely understand.” In all honesty, Leopold was thrilled that Karla hadn’t made it to the

interrogation. The fewer people who knew about the situation, the better. He wouldn’t have even told Karla if he hadn’t needed her help arranging somewhere to keep her. “You didn’t miss much anyway,” he lied. “The girl seems delusional. I’m not sure she would’ve been capable of committing the crime.”

Karla’s eyes widened. “Who, then?” Leopold shrugged. “The plan is to let her rest awhile and see if we can get any useful information out of her in the

morning.” Karla nodded along as Leopold spoke. “Oh, also, it’d probably be best if we didn’t let information about this get out. The last thing we need is for that Manolis prick to get involved here.” Leopold noticed one of the kids perk up on hearing the name. He lowered his voice. “Do you trust these guards?”

“Absolutely. They’re from my personal detail. And you don’t have to worry about me leaking anything — I haven’t even told President Hicinopoulus. I just want to be kept in the loop.”

“For sure.” Leopold smiled at her. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.” He moved from Karla to the three civilians on the couch, leaving Ainsley behind to deal with

the president. Two were dressed like Miamians, and the third a bit less distinctively, maybe like a Mohan or a Lochian. Of the two Miamians, only one had the telling blond hair and light eyes of a true-born Light Factioner. The other’s dulled, olive skin gave her true race away in an instant.


“You know, you may be the last of the Darkness Faction,” Leopold said to her. Her face stayed steely, and she didn’t respond. “I’m Prince Leopold of Kingdom Miami,” he continued, introducing himself, though he was sure they already knew exactly who he was. He raised his eyebrows expectedly, forcing the others to give him their names as well.

“Ashton,” the Miamian boy said. The girl looked con�icted, like she wasn’t sure whether she should sacri�ce the information, but relented quickly.

“Ruby.” The third boy didn’t meet Leopold’s eyes. He clearly wasn’t interested in talking, so Leopold

ignored him for now. “And you’re both of the Light Faction?” They nodded, and Leopold smiled coyly. “I can’t say

I’m surprised to �nd out that the heroes who captured this Decay girl are my people. We’re just a tougher breed, huh?”

Leopold watched the corners of the Miamian boy’s lips curl upward into a proud grin for a second, but he quickly suppressed it. Leopold pretended not to notice.

“And you?” He decided to try again with the third boy, who was signi�cantly younger than the others. “You’re from where?”

“None of your business,” the boy muttered back, which only made Leopold’s smile wider. “That’s a smart answer,” he told him softly. “So, you’ve all just come together to build this little

rag-tag team of investigators?” “We’re not rag-tag,” Ruby said. Leopold held up his hands defensively. “I didn’t mean it as an insult. You three have accomplished more than the combined e�orts of

every faction’s —” Leopold made air quotes “—‘best and brightest.’ I’m hardly in a position to judge your competence.” He sat down on the bench across from them and leaned forward, into a comfortable position. “How long were you in Saint Paul?”

“Long enough,” Ruby muttered. “And so the rumors are true?” She nodded. “Dead bodies. Lots of them. And no survivors.” Leopold sighed. The news wasn’t surprising—they had operated under the assumption for a

month now—but the con�rmation was still unsettling to hear. “Anything else?” “No. But it was horrible. The bodies were all mangled, all rotted.” She crossed her arms in an

attempt to curl into herself. “I can still smell the rotted �esh.” Rotted . Leopold looked back at his hand. The black, decayed spot was already healed. But he

remembered what it had looked like, felt like. The Decay energy had killed those people in Saint Paul. That meant that either Decay was to blame, or that Charlie was telling the truth, and that

someone had stolen that energy from them. Leopold needed to know which was the truth. He studied the kids in front of him carefully.

“Ashton, Ruby, uh...third, unnamed boy. How would you three like to be my o�cial uno�cial investigative team?”


They looked at him stupidly for a few seconds. It was Ashton who spoke �rst. “I don’t think we’re interested.” Leopold sighed. “Shame. I think we could’ve been great partners in this.” He adjusted his

cu�inks—both accented with real gold, imprinted with the family sigil, a ten-pronged star — and retightened his tie. Toying with expensive clothing, he found, always put poor people on edge.

“I appreciate your help in locating this suspect,” he continued. “In Kingdom Miami, we would award you with medals. But, alas, we’re not in Kingdom Miami, and these Air folks seem to have another way about doing things. I assure you all that our people at the consulate are working overtime to negotiate your release. Well—” he paused, and looked at the group again, then pointed to Ashton and Ruby in order, purposely excluding the third boy "— your and your release. Us at Light take care of our people.”

The three had become increasingly nervous as he spoke. “What do you mean, our release?” Ruby asked. Leopold inhaled deeply. “Well,” he said nonchalantly, “you did all breach the exclusion zone, and since you were

arrested here in Stratos, they’ll have jurisdiction over the trial and sentencing. It’s pretty ridiculous, I know—after all, you’re heroes, right? But Air’s pretty strict, and the Peace Accords have our hands tied.” He rolled his eyes playfully, as though the situation were just a mild inconvenience. The kids’ eyes went wide.

“When did we get arrested?” Ainsley approached the group. “Prince Dazzle, the recess ends in just thirty minutes.” Leopold

beamed one of his signature smiles at the dazed group in front of him. “That’s my cue,” he said, and set his sunglasses over his eyes. “But don’t worry. We’ll appeal the

verdict, get you guys on a commuted sentence and transferred to a prison over in Light.” He left the kids with mouths agape, and when he turned away, he �nally allowed his satis�ed

smile to show. “Remember,” he called out behind him. “You’re all heroes to me, no matter what the judge

says!” They would change their minds soon enough, decide to work with him as investigators. But

behind his nonchalant, “concerned father” facade was this giddiness, excitement to be manipulating the kids—a second facade. Beneath it all, at his core, was the smallest beginnings of fear. Fear that the person behind the genocide in Darkness now had at least one Battery. And fear that they might have even more than that.


Chapter 25 Ireland — The Rotten Mentor Ireland skidded to a halt in front of her shared room with Lena. She reached her hand to knock

on the door, but Lena swung the door open �rst. “I need to go now-,” she began to say, but was quickly cut o�. “You’re going to abandon your post?” Lena all but growled. “After all that the Institute has

done for you? You are just like your parents.” Ireland’s blood turned cold. “What?” She squeaked out, when suddenly there was a force pushing her against the wall.

Lena’s face was all but screwed in concentration. Ireland quickly looked around, and snuck her hand in her pocket, where the pen from before was hiding. She grasped it tightly, and quickly slunk into Lena’s mind.

You’re getting very sleepy. She pushed this thought to the forefront of Lena’s mind, mimicking her interior voice. Lena’s

eyelids dropped for a half-second, but it was all Ireland needed. She pulled the pen out and threw it with deadly accuracy, with it landing squarely in the pupil of Lena’s right eye.

“ARGH!” Lena screamed in pure agony as her hands went directly to her mutilated eye. In the process, she dropped her hold on Ireland, and she sprinted down the hall. Ireland �ltered through her mind, and found a guard from Gauss sitting in the room to her left. She immediately placed the thought that Lena had slept with his wife in the guard’s mind, and he was almost instantly out the door, ready to �nd and attack Lena.

Ireland �nally found the elevator and began to slam her �st against the down button. When the doors �nally opened, she slid in and slammed her hand against the �rst �oor button. As the elevator door slowly shut, Ireland breathed out slowly as she stayed crouching in the elevator. As the elevator slowly reached the �rst �oor, Ireland prepared herself to sprint across the lobby to the entrance.

As soon as the doors were open, Ireland was o�, running for her life and probing the minds of the people as she went. Whenever people got too close, she planted a thought in their mind to draw their attention away from her, towards other aspects of their surroundings, such as a completely boring grey picture or a sleek silver statue sitting on the mantelpiece. When she was �nally out of the hotel, she slowed her run to a brisk walk, aiming for the plane that brought her here. If she could convince them to let her on, she could be in the Sanctuary by the night. Ireland hummed an extremely pitchy tune as she turned the corner and climbed into the plane that was still sitting there. She quickly planted a thought in the pilot’s mind (he was a drube so there was nothing to worry about there) and settled into a seat, preparing for the �ight. They quickly lifted o�, and Ireland was on her way, headed to the Sanctuary of the Holy Mother.


Ireland hummed, bored out of her mind. It was a long �ight to the Sanctuary, and Ireland had nothing but time to kill. She tapped her �ngers against the glass, creating an absurdly ugly song to the tune in her head.

Suddenly, she could hear a buzzing. Quietly, she snuck out her phone, and furrowed her eyebrows at the ID. It read UNKNOWN . Hesitantly, Ireland pressed answer, and lifted the phone up to her ear.

“Hello?” She asked quietly. There was heavy breathing on the other end of the call. “Hello?!” “I-Ireland?” Maxim’s shaky voice �ltered through the phone. Ireland sat up even straighter. “Maxim? Are you alright? Why did you call?” There was a deep sigh, echoing through the call. “I found a �le on your parents.” Ireland’s blood froze in her veins. “What?” “It was hidden deep in the �les in the basement here.” There was a hint of urgency in his voice,

and Ireland’s heart began to slow. “Listen, Ireland, your parents…” There was a sudden crash, and Ireland could hear Maxim’s voice hitch. “Y-your parents stole the Air Battery.” Ireland stopped breathing. “W-what? Why did they steal the Battery?” “It says in the �le that they were stationed undercover in Stratos and were approached by an

unknown person to help them �nd the Battery.” “Do we know who the person was?” Ireland’s �ngers gripped the phone tightly, cracking the

case. “No, I don’t think they ever found out who the person was. Listen, Ireland…your parents, they

were branded traitors in both the Nero’s Institute and the Magical Coalition. The…that’s probably why they were killed.”

Ireland took in a shaky breath. “Ok, thank you for telling me.” She almost told him what she was going to do, but hesitated. What if Maxim would react like

Lena? She couldn’t risk it. “Ireland…Ireland, I think they know where I am.” “What? Maxim, move, now!” There was an even closer crash, and she could hear Maxim’s breath picking up. “Ireland, I’m sorry, I’m so sor — ,” Maxim’s voice suddenly cut out, and Ireland could hear the

loud THUNK of the phone hitting the �oor. “Maxim, Maxim, where are you?! Maxim, please respond!” She yelled into the phone, desperate

for any sound from the other end. “Max — .” The call ended.


“No,” she whispered in shock. She dropped the phone and fell back in the seat. She almost considered going back for him. He was the worst in his class, he can’t defend himself. But then she remembered young Ruth, and the people hunting for her. I need to find her first and make sure she’s safe, before I go rescue Maxim. With her mind made up, Ireland curled up in her seat and allowed herself to shed a few tears for her parents and for Maxim.


Chapter 26 Ashton — A Talk with the Prince Ashton sat alone in this place. A light shone brightly in the center of the room. He sat in a

metal chair. He had been alone in this room for hours, and the stale air had �nally started to get to him. His head pounded to no end. Then again, he was used to that feeling after dealing with Ruby for so long.

He wanted to use his magic but the room was so bright that he doubted it would have any e�ect. He was annoyed. Where was the prince? Why had they insisted they meet in an interrogation room? Was this some sort of intimidation tactic, because he had come here willingly, ready to negotiate.

There was a mirror in the room. He looked at it with a glare. What a shitty-looking person. The trip had clearly taken a toll on his look. His hair was

disheveled from his usual clean cut 3 on the sides. One side looked particularly singed from when they entered the Nox Republic. His pants had a hole. He was about to look at his shoes, but something �icked in the corner of his eyes.

It looked like Hayden. “What the fuck?” he said outloud. He knew he was being recorded, but the shock of seeing a dead man pushed his usual

composure away. He blinked his eyes. Clearly, he must’ve been stressed from everything that had just happened. Even so deep down, while he hated Hayden for being Hayden, he couldn’t deny that his death was regrettable. That was a fellow member of the Kingdom of Miami who, even with his pedigree, had tried to get higher in life. For all that he was worth, he never tainted the name of Ashton’s home. Ashton sat staring at the wall for a long time.

Finally, the door opened. Ashton’s eyes widened in response to who had entered. He was once again face-to-face with the soon-to-be-king of Kingdom Miami, Prince Leopold Dazzle. This time Ruby and Rane weren’t there to distract him.

Ashton had gotten to speak with him brie�y the other day, but somehow he seemed larger now, more real than he had then in the police department lobby. Ashton knew quite a bit about him. He was considered the favored son in the family, especially compared to his lustful brother. He was taller than the images had given him credit for, and he walked with a pride worthy of those with noble blood. Ashton had mixed feelings about the prince. Nobles always approached lower class men with an arrogance that was unique in tone. The prince, unlike Ashton, had been born into prosperity with all the perks of the new dynasty.

Prince Leopold sat in the chair opposite him. Ashton considered speaking �rst to the prince just to see how the man would react to an adviser breaking the usual code of formality in Miami. He dismissed the thought as quickly as it appeared. No point in instigating the prince who probably could, and maybe would, want to kill Ashton for breaching the barrier.


Prince Leopold looked at Ashton with eyes that spoke of much more experience than his youthful appearance.

“So, here we are,” he said simply. “ Again .” He paused for a moment to study Ashton’s face. Ashton pushed away any nerves or intimidation he felt. The prince seemed to notice that. “You told my o�ce that you had reconsidered my o�er. Is that correct?”

Ashton nodded. “Yes.” Ashton bit hard inside his mouth. There was more he wanted to say, but he had to be careful

with his words right now. Getting the prince angry would do nothing for him. “That’s fantastic news,” Leopold said dryly. “Not in the least for you. If I give you a job in my

administration, I can get Karla Gustoph to issue a pardon for your crime. Of course, for it all to be convincing enough, I would need you to actually do the job I hire you for. Just for a little bit. Surely that’s a reasonable trade-o�, right?”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Ashton responded, trying to keep his tone as neutral as possible. “Please, just call me Leopold. Your Majesty is my father. Well, father, and mother, and brother,

and myself , but after my time with the politicians and bureaucrats here at the Congress, I’m a bit sour on the formalities.” Leopold smiled in a way that had become mechanical after years of usage.

“Alright, Leopold.” An awkward silence built between them. Leopold clicked his tongue to �ll the space. His

mechanical smile turned into a rather annoyed frown. Then, he �nally spoke. “When the Congress �rst began, I sent a memo to Mayor Luminous in Lux Aeterna. I was

looking for a private investigator. I know he extended you the o�er for that position. And you never accepted it.”

Ashton could feel a bead of sweat run down his back. He needed to approach this carefully. He couldn’t throw Hayden—or himself—under the bus. No one could account for his o�er, leaving Ashton the only bind between the group.

Ashton cleared his throat. “Leopold, I thought that myself getting caught acting in even a somewhat o�cial capacity

would get Kingdom Miami in hot water. I apologize if that make the situation more di�cult —” Leopold cut him o�. “More di�cult? Did you not listen to anything I just said?” Leopold chuckled. “I, too, wanted

to investigate the area almost immediately, which is why I sent out an order. But you, an advisor —” he said the word with disregard "—went behind my back for what I presume to be very sel�sh reasons. I’m a very busy man, but you really think I don’t do my homework?” Leopold opened his suit jacket and removed a �le. He threw it on the table between them.

“I know how much you’ve worked, Ashton. I have your �le right here. The son of a drunk and an adulterous Darkness witch. Educated in Lux Aeterna with your estranged mother’s inheritance, which itself was stolen from her new husband. A pretty pathetic start. But you excelled in school and in the private sector, right? If not for the fact that you’ve aroused so much suspicion, I’d commend you.


But I’m not a fool, Ashton. You are ill-tempered and sel�sh, and your only motivation is elevating yourself. I need to trust the people that work for me. I need total loyalty. Can I expect that from you?”

Ashton's eyes glowed slightly. His previous uncertainty about the prince had been fully resolved. He hated this stand up pompous prick who, most agonizingly enough, had a brain.

“It’s a simple question, really,” Leopold commented when Ashton didn’t respond immediately. “You’re right, Leopold. I went to the Nox Republic because I wanted to see what you and the

rest of the government were hiding. I thought using this information could help me get out of that backwater town. An adviser who took it upon himself to resolve possibly one of the biggest crises of our current era. It’d be the only way for someone like me to get anywhere higher,” Ashton responded, the edge in his voice not subtly hidden.

“You have as much noble blood as the chair you’re sitting on,” Leopold said, tapping the table. “Advisor is as high as you will go.”

“Fuck the bloodlines,” Ashton shouted. Leopold’s face darkened. Ashton himself did not expect those words from his own mouth. Few

people could dig under his skin and maybe after dealing with Ruby, Hayden, and now this prick, he’d really lost any tolerance. At this point, he �gured he might as well let the rest of his resentment out.

“You and every noble in Kingdom Miami are why we su�er. Instead of �tting people quali�ed for the positions in government, you give them to rich sons and daughters who had their future paved in gold from day one. Advisors have all struggled to get where we are. We fought. We played the game and damn it, we all earned our positions. So, congratulations, Prince Leopold. You were born. Do you want me to grovel at your feet? I risked everything in my life to get this far. While you sucked on silver spoons, I labored with rocks on my back and picked up animal shit. If you truly cared for Miami, you would end this foolish cycle of Kings and Queens. You may think I’m an arrogant nobody who cares only for my glory, but that’s bullshit. I love my home. Despite its backwards system that helps no one but old incestious power hungry nobles!”

As Ashton spoke, a coy smile began to snake its way across the prince’s face. When he was �nished with his rant, Ashton fell back in his chair, out of breath, his face tomato red. Leopold nodded. For a moment he said nothing—no clever retort, no sarcastic quips.

Then, �nally, “That’ll do �ne.” Ashton was taken aback. “What?” “There will be a lot of paperwork,” Leopold said, ignoring the question. “I’ll get that to you by

the end of the day, and I’ll need it back by the morning. I can probably have your release secured by noon tomorrow. But �rst, tell me what happened in the Nox Republic. Every detail of it.”

Ashton told him almost everything. He didn’t mention as much of his arguments and interactions with Ruby, but told him everything including Hayden approaching him and the mysterious girl. It felt like hours had passed as he explained the events of the last few days. When he �nally �nished, Leopold’s face had changed again to a look of deep thought.

“The other interviews have already been conducted with your other party members. Hayden was burned to a crisp. Dead, I’m sorry to say. My condolences, I suppose.” Leopold rose from his chair.


“While I can’t say it's been a pleasure meeting you, Ashton, I do thank you for your eventual cooperation. Believe me we’ll be seeing each other for a bit longer. Sit tight while I manage the collateral,” Leopold put a hand on the doorknob, but stopped. “You are going to Vox Mortis to �nd the remains of the Decay Faction. When that is �nished, I will want a full report. If you try to be coy or clever, I will have you killed. If you do your job correctly, there just might be an opening for you in Miami. That’s how these things work. Old incestious power hungry nobles exploit deprived poor farmer kids until those kids prove themselves valuable. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” “Good.” Leopold left the room. Ashton didn’t know what was going to happen. He didn’t think it’d be unusual if he suddenly

found himself without a head or buried at the bottom of the ocean. He really told the Crown Prince that his entire claim to power was bullshit.

He laughed to himself, handcu�ed to a table. He couldn’t believe how much better he felt saying that. He’d internalized that resentment for so long. Even now as he looked in the mirror, he saw his hollow father’s blood in him. His lustful mother standing far away in the arms of another. He was screwed either way.


Chapter 27 Cyrus — Change of Plans Cyrus awoke to �nd Centari gone from her usual watch position. He sobered up as fast as he

could remember doing so as he fell from the bed. Quickly, he grabbed his jacket (with his artifact hidden inside of it) o� of a hanger in the hotel room’s closet and prepared to be jumped. When nothing arrived, he swiped his room key, still present where he left it on a nightstand, and then left the room cautiously but with no delay.

Since the discovery they made a few cities back that the human purist groups in fact had nothing to do with the events at the Nox Republic nor with the silence of Vox Mortis, Cyrus and Centari had been traveling aimlessly across the Moh Empire. They followed anything they considered ‘leads’, but even then it was only conjecture at best. What brought them here, for example, was a mysterious disappearance of impounded artifacts, like the one Cyrus used to give his �ghting abilities a bit of a boost.

Most weapons like them were as illegal as they were powerful, but none of them should’ve been able to simply fade away from the highly-sealed antimagic storage area they had been kept in. Naturally, something big was behind it. Hopefully, ‘something big’ meant the cause of the disaster. Cyrus had told Centari to return to the Congress with this information, but once again, she convinced him that it would probably take them weeks to send out anything palpable to investigate this. It was the two of them against whatever nebulous threat was pulling strings in the background.

Hence, why Cyrus didn’t exactly feel comfortable with Centari’s absence at the moment. He snuck through the hotel’s hallways, making sure to look normal only when others were around to see him. Even then, he made sure to scan them for any amount of threat. None of them posed any: they were just business trippers, mostly. They paid Cyrus little attention. He was running through 5 ways to escape the place from his position on the 4 th �oor should anything go wrong, each plan more detailed and ridiculous than the last, when he turned a corner to bump into the object of his search.

“Rrrrgh,” Centari growled, “What the hell?” “Centari!” Cyrus identi�ed her as if making sure she knew who she was, “What are you doing

out here?” “You got nervous and woke up early again, didn’t you?” She asked, ignoring his question.

Cyrus now spotted the foam cups in both of her armored hands. Steam rose from the both of them, carrying with it the smell of everyone’s favorite wake-up call. The co�ee looked quite out of place when compared to the silver gauntlet weapons that held them.

“What are you doing?” Cyrus reasked, now putting more emphasis on her arms, “People will see — ”

“Relax.” Centari moved around him and started walking back towards the room, “Almost nobody comes down this early, and if they do, they’re probably too tired to trust their eyes.”

“You can’t count on that.” Cyrus said as he caught up with her. “And you can’t hold on to that secretive demeanor forever.” Centari smiled.


“We’re high-pro�le enough without people gossiping about our appearance at every turn.” Cyrus relaxed only a small bit, “I swear this hotel half-expected us to come in this direction.”

“They were just prepared for us. Customer service. Is that so hard to believe?” Centari practically laughed the question over to him.

“Yes. In fact, it is.” Cyrus pointed to one of the foam cups, “Is that one mine?” “No. They’re both for me, I need my pick-up.” Centari said, and Cyrus didn’t have to wait for

two seconds before she revealed, “Nah, I’m just kidding, here you go.” She handed Cyrus the cup, and he took it readily. He studied it for a few seconds, as if �guring

out if it had been tampered with in some way. “There a problem?” Centari asked after she took a sip from her cup, “I can con�rm its quality.” “I’ve never had any before.” “Well, then, drink it. Try some and see what you’ve missed being part of the regular world.”

Centari laughed as they returned to the room. Cyrus tried a sip of the co�ee. Somehow, this liquid that was said to bring energy faster than anything else in the world felt comforting.

Cyrus decided that he liked it.

“There has to be at least one of those auxilifacts around here somewhere.” Cyrus said as he and Centari looked around the warehouse. It had been easy to sneak into the supposed crime scene. All they needed to do was knock out a couple of guards and they had free reign of the place for a few hours.

The facility itself was mostly made up of one large room made for storage units: large boxes made of stone that Earth mages could easily lift and push around. There was some damage here and there, including a scorch mark or two from what Centari identi�ed as Fire magic. It appeared that however quick the theft was, the night guards didn’t exactly give the items up without a �ght.

“How do you �gure?” Centari asked, �ddling with her gauntlets. “I can’t feel anything around us.” Cyrus answered, trying harder to put his senses out. Ever

since he started this road trip, he could feel his abilities to sense others diminish day by day. Soon, the passive e�ect dwindled entirely, and he had to concentrate in order to summon it. He came to the conclusion that it was his emotions. Hunting purists, including those who were behind his mother’s death, played havoc with his mind. The usual curiosity and wonder he had about the world was replaced with vengeful intent and fury at those who changed his life forever. Then again, his want for revenge was nearly sated when he burned down the Javelin base in the hotel.

“Perhaps it’s that gun you keep on your person at all times.” Centari suggested humorously. “It’s an auxilifact, not just a gun.” Cyrus said, pulling it out, “And it was speci�cally designed

so that it wouldn’t dampen Life powers, unlike its brethren.” Centari rolled her eyes as she studied the tire marks that left the storage area through a large bay

door.


“These weren’t big trucks. Mostly things that average people could get at the local dealer.” Centari stood up and shrugged at Cyrus, “I still don’t know why you think this could be connected with what’s going on.”

“These auxilifacts are about the most valuable things to anyone without magic. It allows Greys to get an edge on people like us. If someone did do something to the Nox to make them disappear, this might’ve been what they were after.” Cyrus explained, “Whoever stole these might have stolen the entire motherload in St. Louis.”

“But that doesn’t really make much sense.” “Why so?” Cyrus thought it was perfectly sound logic. “If someone had the capability to silence an entire faction in one fell swoop, why would they

need things like these?” She clinked her gauntlets together, “One would think they’d manufacture their own weapons.”

“Perhaps. Or maybe they want to combine the technologies. Humans have always been — ” “Can you stop using that term?” Centari blurted out suddenly. “What term?” “Humans. They’re called Greys, Cy. Human implies that we’re superior to them.” Centari

crossed her arms. It was obvious that she felt strongly about this. “Sorry. It’s just the term I grew up with.” Cyrus said. It didn’t seem to satisfy her as she went

back to work. “In any case, I can’t guess where these tracks lead to. By this point, they might be at the Neros

Institute or halfway across Moh.” “Neros?” Cyrus asked, “You think they might be interested in something like this?” “I don’t pretend to know much about them.” Centari laughed, “But from what little I do

know, they do like to be a bastion of power against everyone else. They could be hoarding things like this.”

“They also refused to be at the Congress, right?” “Yeah.” Centari said, then wrinkled her face, “You can’t possibly think — ” “I can. Who would want this advantage, other than human purists?” Cyrus said excitedly, then

less so: “Sorry. Grey purists.” “I just think we should get a few possibilities before we throw ourselves into a single direction,

Cy.” Centari tried to calm him down, but to no avail. “What other options do we have?” Cyrus asked as if actually expecting an answer. However,

before Centari could attempt a response, the life mage sensed a small ping in his radar. He pointed his head away from his ally and in its direction, almost looking like a dog who just caught a scent. There was a small creature, or family of small creatures, living in this building. Just outside of his �eld of vision on the other side of the rickety building. And then, just like that, it was gone. He tried to concentrate on what he felt, but failed to conjure up that sensation again.

“Something wrong?” Centari asked, cautiously approaching him.


“I sensed something for a second. The exterminator seemed to have called in sick today.” He smiled in anticipation of another witness.

“Are you sure?” Centari orbited him until she entered his vision, “You said your senses were on the fritz again today, maybe it was a false alarm?”

“I’m sure I felt it. Clear as the sun rises.” Cyrus said with conviction as he moved to meet whatever set o� his senses. He brushed past Centari as she once again adjusted her gauntlets.

“Listen, Cy, I don’t think we have much more time here before our friends wake up and call the real police. We need to get out of here before we have to make another last-minute escape.” Centari followed him in earnest, tugging at him to stop his motion. However, he continued forward like a charging bull.

“This will only take a minute, Centari. We can handle anything they have to throw at us.” “That’s what you said last time, and I had to jump o� of a collapsing monument.” Centari

sighed with frustration. “This time will be di�erent. I promise.” Cyrus began to run, bursting through the door to the

administrative area of the building quickly. The workers had not come today due to the robbery, giving him free reign to leap over their desks in the fastest, if not the most terribly e�cient, way forwards. He found a stairwell and practically pounced upwards, eventually leaving Centari panting behind him. Cyrus entered another room which looked dustier than age itself. It looked like it hadn’t been used in years, but before then, it might’ve been a janitor’s closet or the like. Before long, he found his target: a small nest embedded into the room’s top corner.

The nest was deserted at the moment but was a recent addition. Cyrus approached it slowly, looking (and feeling around with his other senses) for the signs that triggered his abilities. When he reached the nest, he made contact with a tiny baby bird. Her feathers were bright blue and soft, not having fully grown in yet. She wasn’t even able to speak to him yet. The parental birds must not be far away, if they left this one on her own. She blinked open two small eyes, and Cyrus couldn’t help but smile at the chick’s cuteness.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” came a loud, screeching voice behind him. Right afterwards, Cyrus felt a small couple scratches as what he assumed was the mother bird tore at his back with her claws and beak. However, this was no bird of prey, so his jacket provided more than adequate protection.

“Sorry! Just looking! I promise!” Cyrus held his hands up in apology, remaining calm against the chaotic situation. Before a few seconds, the bird returned to her nest and now was assuming an intimidating pose, her baby right behind her. The mother bird’s plumage was a brilliant blue, a rarity in this place at this time of year. Her beady black eyes stabbed seemingly into Cyrus’s soul.

“Life mage? Here?” The bird asked, curious but not backing down. “Yes. Can you help me?.” Cyrus lowered his arms. The bird looked at him closely, cocking her

head back and forth as if the angles helped her. “What do you want?”


“There were a lot of humans here a few nights ago. I need to know if you saw where they went.”

The bird began to relax, folding her wings back into her body. “There was a commotion downstairs. Made dreadful noise, especially for the little one. I �ew

outside to see what was the matter, and it was a herd of metal beasts.” Metal beasts were what animals constantly referred to cars as. Given Centari’s analysis, whoever

stole these artifacts must’ve come in with a �eet of trucks. They came in, loaded up, and left. Almost as if they had help from the inside.

“Did you see where they went?” “Northwest.” She answered quickly. Birds were insanely good with directions, so Cyrus didn’t

doubt her for a second. All the more evidence against Neros, which was the only faction northwest from here and far from where any normal people would really settle.

“Thank you.” Cyrus committed the information to memory, “Anything else you can tell me.” “They were led by someone extremely scary — ” The bird cut herself o� as bursts of gun�re erupted from downstairs, her calm demeanor

quickly disintegrating. “It’s happening again, isn’t it!” The bird was spooked, and began �ying around the room in

frantic patterns. The baby chick, not fully understanding what was going on, simply winced in pain when exposed to the noise.

“Calm down. Here, I got a treat for you.” He brought out a serving of mothersbread, treat to all life. He broke o� a small piece and put it into the nest. The chick poked it curiously with her beak, and then began to scrape o� pieces of it to �t into her small form. The mother returned within a second to help her digest it.

“Can you stop it?” the mother asked. “I can lead them away, just give me a — ” Cyrus was interrupted by Centari running suddenly into the room. “NOT AGAIN!” The bird screamed as she began �ying around the room again. “Cy, we need to go!” Centari said with a hurrying tone as she ran into the room, bullets �red

from law enforcement o�cers whizzing past the doorway. Cyrus looked at the bird and then back at Centari, drawing his weapon and checking it. Six shots.

“Ladies �rst.” Cyrus said, and Centari smiled. She went to the doorway, and as soon as there was a break in �re, charged electricity to her gauntlets and let it �y. Presuming by the fearful screams that followed, their enemies didn’t exactly expect to be �ghting mages today. However, before Centari attacked again, Cyrus pulled her out of the roomroomroomline of �re and started running towards the exit. The noises obviously traumatized the bird, and Cyrus wished not to create any more trouble than was absolutely necessary.

Cyrus and Centari were masters at escaping police authority by now. At least, that was Cyrus’s interpretation of the situation as they sat in a hastily-overridden vehicle. Centari had a clever little


method of using her gauntlets to hotwire cars without ever having to touch wires. Gauss manufactured most of the car batteries in the world, and were easy to �nd and simply tear out with the right insulation. A small piece of Centari’s gauntlets could substitute for the battery and jumpstart the car with the amount of current it generated. Unfortunately, it wasn’t a long-term maneuver. The car tended to not hold the charge of the gauntlet for longer than a day or so, so they only relied on that method of escape in emergencies.

While they waited for the heat to die down, Cyrus replayed the events of that day in his mind. The evidence pointed in the direction Cyrus thought it would, but it felt too perfect to him. As if manufactured for his bene�t. Progress was nonexistent in his quest so far, so such a seemingly big break made him wary. Centari was surprisingly calm.

He thought he was being too suspicious. Centari had proved herself to him more than most people he knew. She was willing to do whatever it took to stop whoever was behind these attacks. As he was having these thoughts, she turned to him.

“I think it’s quieted down by now, don’t you think?” Centari said, smiling. There was something in that smile that unnerved Cyrus, but he ignored it the best he could.

“Probably.” He answered. “Were you able to get anything from your signal at least?” She asked, a little annoyed that he

had stayed behind in the �rst place. “She was a bird.” Cyrus corrected, “She witnessed the theft personally.” “What did she say?” Centari sounded either concerned or curious. Cyrus couldn’t tell, and

doubted his suspicious mind was helping him think. “That the trucks which took the auxilifacts were headed northwest.” “So your theory about Neros holds true?” “It would seem so.” “Then we have our heading.” She restarted the car with a little jolt. “Wait, didn’t you say that theory was laughable?” Cyrus said, remembering her reaction to the

idea. “Well, that was back when there was no proof for it. Not much northwest of here but the

brains, is there?” Centari smiled at him. Once more, he felt a little uneasy. She seemed to accept his theories about Neros now, which she seemed to adamantly reject earlier. He then thought of the way the bird reacted when she saw Centari and her lightning. It was all too similar to trauma. His ally identi�ed the scorch marks he saw as Fire magic, but they looked awfully similar to the ones he found from her gauntlets whenever they fought together…

“You seem awfully accepting of it.” Cyrus said. “I’ll admit I thought it was stupid, but the situation appears to have changed, hasn’t it?” She

seemed wary. Cyrus could smell the tension. “Is something wrong?” “It’s probably nothing.” “Cy, I told you before, this isn’t going to work if we don’t trust each other.” Centari sounded

more annoyed than anything.


“It’s �ne. Let’s go.” Cyrus shrugged o� the conversation. He had no reason to distrust her. He put the whole situation out of his mind. Centari restarted the car they were hiding in and began to drive the other way across town to retrieve their primary mode of transportation. Not wanting any more conversation, he looked out the window, trying to admire the city despite having no place in it himself. Like most Earth cities, it lacked any skyscrapers and instead expanded outward and downward. Cyrus guessed the buildings were like icebergs of the land: most of their importance lay underground, where Earth mages were at their peak.

The places he had grown up in were mostly open-air, wanting to make the most of every scrap of space by leaving it open. One could smell the outside air from anywhere, and due to the Sanctuary’s strict rules on conservation, the smog that plagued other cities was nonexistent. Cyrus breathed deeply to get the taste of this city. It was better than most, but still su�ered the slight disgust of way too many people in not enough space. He guessed the Earth mages treated the land with more respect than others.

As he was looking out, he caught sight of something he couldn’t stand idly by and watch. “Wait, stop the car.” Cyrus said, unlocking his seatbelt and door in mere milliseconds. Centari

reacted with the re�ex of a cat. “What? What’s wrong?” She was ready for combat. Cyrus blasted out the door and ran at an

alleyway they had just hovered outside of. He drew his auxilifact and pointed it squarely at an alley robber, who had just taken a victim and shoved a handgun into his face.

“Let him go!” Cyrus yelled, catching the criminal’s attention. He smiled evilly. “Took you long enough.” He said with a sinister glow, and then released his quarry. The

would-be victim drew a gun of his own and pointed it for Cyrus. Before he could react, Cyrus took a massive hit to the back of his head. The sheer force alone would’ve been enough to knock most men out, but luckily for him, Cyrus was not most men. He barely caught himself on the city walkway.

“What the — ” was what he could say before a lightning bolt struck the man who was posing as a robbery victim. A massive crack of thunder rang out as the electrocution fried his insides and jolted him several feet backwards.

“Fuck!” Said a voice behind Cyrus, “He’s still got the Gauss bitch with him!” With that, the remaining two men began to open �re at Centari, who had thrown the bolt

from behind the car. She ducked, taking cover under the car’s pro�le as it soaked in bullets. The gunmen took their own defenses behind what they could �nd: a dumpster was the new home of the man in front of Cyrus, while the one who had nearly knocked him out took shelter behind something else.

Working on adrenaline, he pumped Life Energy into his brain, restoring it to full functionality before the attackers could �nish him o�. He picked up the dropped auxilifact and �red it at the man in front of him. He reacted quickly enough to stay covered. Cyrus felt another burst of bullets whizz by him as the one who knocked him out �red at him, but ducked behind a table in an outdoor seating area next door. He kicked it over, allowing it to absorb the metal bullets instead of him.


“Fall out! We’ll get him next time!” Said the one behind the dumpster, apparently the one giving the orders.

“Let’s see you try!” Centari yelled as she �red o� another lightning bolt, this one heading straight for the dumpster. The electricity struck and danced around the metal box, igniting the garbage inside and giving a massive jolt to the gunman right next to it. It wasn’t enough to fry him on contact, but it was enough to stop him from �ring a gun ever again. When it was over, he fell on the ground and began to seize back and forth.

“Metal conducts electricity, dumbass!” Centari said triumphantly moments before the other gunman �red o� more bullets at her. She moved to cover again, but before she did, a stray shot made a direct hit on her gauntlet. There seemed to be the sound of some gas rapidly escaping before the entire thing seemed to explode, sending an electrical pulse throughout the car and the surrounding street!

Centari herself was launched backwards, but was otherwise unharmed. However, there was one slight detail that stood out to Cyrus. Like all Storm mages, Centari’s body was nearly covered in �owing tattoos called Conduits used to boost her powers.

Her forearm, the part that was covered by the gauntlets, was completely blank. However, he had no time to ponder this as he was shot at and nearly hit by yet another lead

projectile. “You will both pay for Javelin’s blood with yours!” shouted the last remaining enemy as a battle

cry. At least Cyrus knew who he was dealing with now. He �red his weapon once, landing the black burst of energy that followed inches from his opponent’s body. When his opponent took the bait by �ring back (and landing a shot in Cyrus’s exposed shoulder), Cyrus unleashed a counterattack of his own, landing a blast of negative energy comparable to three bullets in the opposition’s chest. He spun around with the force and landed face-�rst on the hard concrete behind him. The life mage acted quickly to drain the last remaining Life Energy out of him before it expired, healing his bullet wound and recharging his auxilifact in the process.

Cyrus quickly looked around for any other threats as Centari scrambled up from the pavement. She realized the state of her gauntlets within a second, and reacted by spewing a litany of curses and taking o� the only whole gauntlet left. She fumbled over the object with clumsy speed, eventually �nding a button on the device and pressing it with gusto. She slammed the gauntlet down and watched as the shrapnel of the other gauntlet began to �y directly towards the whole one, attaching and reforming as if they were all connected by some sort of magnetic force.

However, the process was taking too long for Cyrus not to notice it. He made sure that the surroundings were safe before checking on his partner’s status, which could be best described as ‘increasingly distraught’. The arm that the gauntlet had been blown o� of should’ve been badly burnt or damaged from the blast, but appeared to be more or less whole, except for the bareness of the tattooless skin. Cyrus had seen her arms without the gauntlets on before (although it was rare that she ever took them o�), and every time the wavy lines like snakes that formed over her body came to proud, sharp heads on her hands. Now, however, it was as if someone had taken an eraser and took away all evidence of it having been there.


“Are you alright?” Cyrus asked warily. “DON’T LOOK AT THIS!” Centari suddenly snapped at him. Cyrus �inched, but didn’t

heed her. As he was watching, he saw a piece of the conduit on one of her arms �ake o�. Literally. As if it were a patch, the black piece of what Cyrus had assumed to be ink �oated in the air and glided to the ground before disintegrating into a small batch of blue sparks.

“What the hell is going on?” Cyrus demanded. As he spoke, the pieces of the weapon formed a glove-shaped piece of metal, and was beginning to carve and reshape itself even as he was watching.

“NOTHING!” Centari seemed to grasp at words, “Nothing worth watching! Just turn around and leave!”

“Why would I — ” And just then, Centari placed her undamaged arm into the undamaged gauntlet and pointed it

at Cyrus. “You know what?” Centari asked, suddenly calm, “I’m done with this.” The other gauntlet was still forming alongside the full weapon, but it still opened along with

her hand and began to crackle with electrical power. Cyrus had to think fast. He knew exactly when the lightning bolt would shoot out (he had fought alongside the weapon enough times), so he timed his roll. He rolled to the side as if he was some hero in an action movie dodging bullets, and only felt tingling in his side as the majority of the bolt chose to strike the lamppost behind him. Before he had a chance to even catch his breath, Centari began to speak more.

“I’m done with this stupid plan! I wanted to kill you outright, but no.” She held the ‘no’ for what felt like a whole second, “No, we couldn’t allow your ‘experience’ dealing with purists to go to waste. This has been a waste of my life!”

Cyrus drew his auxilifact as Centari placed her arm inside the other, still un�nished, gauntlet. He heard a metallic chink as she broke the bond they had and �exed the new metal �ngers.

“You’re not a mage!?” Cyrus exclaimed, holding the weapon out towards her, “What the hell do you want, then?”

“To be done with this mistake once and for all.” Centari smiled as the un�nished gauntlet powered up. Cyrus squeezed the trigger, not wanting to hear any more, but the dark blast was simply eaten by the chaotic burst of charge that arced out of Centari. The repair process Cyrus had witnessed had not �nished, it seemed, as the electricity �owed directly into the ground and made Centari’s short hair stand on end, making her appear crazier than ever.

Before she could attack again, Cyrus knew he needed to make an escape. He saw a side entrance to one of the buildings in the alley the gunmen were hiding in. The life mage ran for his life, and burst through the door shoulder-�rst, not losing any momentum as he barreled forwards. Centari grunted with frustration but called after him.

“Where are you going? Afraid of the little Grey taking you out?” She ran after him, close enough for a challenge but far enough away that Cyrus could duck and cover should he need to. The side entrance had been to some sort of restaurant, and Cyrus swiftly encountered the kitchen. He saw that most of the people had cleared out when the shooting started outside, but a few still remained


behind doing miscellaneous acts of hiding. Cyrus saw his chance behind one of the kitchen counters, and dashed behind it, drawing his weapon and readying himself for Centari’s inevitable arrival.

It came within another second. “Is this how you want to do this? Running away in a small building? Don’t you think you’re

better than this?” Cyrus popped out as soon as she �nished and loosed another shot straight for her. As if by

instinct, she ducked and got behind cover of her own. “Why are you trying to kill me?” Cyrus asked, hoping to get as many answers he could while

distracting her. “You’ve outlived the usefulness they tried to convince me you had!” She called back, “You

couldn’t even get me to Neros without getting into a gun�ght that risked our lives! I’ve had enough setbacks on this little trip, and I’m ready to �nish this job myself!”

Centari charged a gauntlet (Cyrus couldn’t tell which one) and �red o� another lightning bolt at the counter. Luckily, this was de�nitely Moh quality granite stone, and dispersed the electricity into the ground rather than channel it directly into Cyrus.

“That’s it? I outlived my usefulness ? Was anything you told me true?” Cyrus pointed his auxilifact straight for where he knew she would be.

“We do have dead parents in common, Cy.” She said, “Only mine never had the powers to �ght back!”

She charged a gauntlet, but Cyrus �red o� another shot, encouraging her not to peek out. “Are you behind Nox?” Cyrus asked once more, “You owe me that, at least!” “I owe you nothing!” Centari charged a gauntlet again and spun out of her cover, aiming the

bolt straight for Cyrus as he �red again at her. However, he missed the shot, allowing her the perfect retaliation. The lightning bolt directed straight for Cyrus’s chest, but his arms holding the weapon in his hands got in the way. The lightning struck the weapon and channeled through his arms, cooking them and surging through the rest of his body, desperate to �nd the ground as fast as possible.

Before he could think, it was over, and he was slumped against the opposite wall, ejected away from his position onto the ground. His auxilifact was lying next to him, the energy drained from it by the lightning. Cyrus tried to raise his arms, but they couldn’t respond. Drool formed at his mouth and began leaking in earnest. He lacked the ability to control that, even.

Centari walked up to him slowly and knelt down before him, as if trying to determine if he was still alive. Cyrus instinctively played dead, but couldn’t fool her. She smiled.

“Well, I guess you do deserve at least something for your trouble.” She shrugged casually, “You did eliminate everyone on my list of loose ends, after all.”

Cyrus grunted, lacking the ability to form words at the moment. “I’m not behind Nox, Cy, but I wish I came up with it. It’d make me a very powerful woman.”

She laughed as she held up her arm towards him, beginning to crackle once more with energy, “Not that I’m not already a very powerful woman.”


Cyrus reacted only on instinct as his arm seized upwards and grasped hers, the damage in that arm’s gauntlet being just enough to obtain grip. Her Life Energy �owed into him as if it had been released from �oodgates, and he felt it swell within his body and restore him to his original self. Centari screamed, but quickly resisted with all of her might. The gauntlet that was about to eradicate Cyrus deactivated as her focus was broken. He stood up and began to look directly into her eyes.

The fear was obvious. There was, however, an inner hatred behind the eyes that Cyrus had only seen in purists and other racist groups. Centari gritted her teeth in de�ance, and slowly, the Life Energy stopped �owing. However, she was still alive. Strong, without much color drained from her face. With wonder, Cyrus realized that Centari contained a surplus of Life Energy. Someone like this could de�nitely be taught Life Magic, even if she wasn’t born with it.

His control of the situation didn’t last. She wrested herself from his grip and shoved him back towards the wall. Cyrus picked up his auxilifact, but by the time he aimed the weapon, Centari was long gone. He predicted she would be running as far away from him as humanly possible. Although he could outrun her, Cyrus realized that he was still exhausted. He couldn’t catch her in this state. The drain restored him to full working order, but was disconnected before it could refresh him as much as he wanted.

Slowly, and with a barely noticeable limp, Cyrus left the restaurant through its front door (the fearful, wide-eyed patrons staring at him as he left). The car Centari has hotwired was still here, still waiting to go even after all this. He entered the vehicle with a slump, and quickly noticed that Centari’s gauntlet piece was still �rmly attached where the small battery box should’ve been. He checked the auxilifact. Two shots. And him without the energy to re�ll it.

Centari had mentioned something about him taking her to Neros. If he was going to �nd her, that’s where she’d be. When, he couldn’t be sure. It didn’t really matter. Centari had answers to give, and Cyrus was going to make her. One way or another. He pressed his foot to the �oor, sending the car on a fast pace far away from the scene before the police could arrive. He would go exactly as the little bird told him: Northwest.


Chapter 28 Leopold — E�ective Immediately When Leopold arrived back at his hotel room, there was a letter waiting for him, this time

courtesy of Kingdom Miami and not a mysterious golden retriever. Leopold didn’t bother searching for his letter opener; he tore the envelope open with his hands, ripping a dreadfully crooked line across the fold, then pulled the paper from inside. He dropped his trash on the �oor as he made his way to the kitchenette and skimmed the note for important words. It was dictated by his father.

Your father’s condition has improved considerably, and we expect he will be released from care within the fortnight...Kingdom Miami has been placed under full lockdown...quadrupled the guard at the Beacon...no news from investigators...

Leopold laid it on the island and fetched a glass from the cabinet and wine from the fridge. He continued to read as he poured himself a glass.

Your father is proud you stepped into this position with the Congress...disappointed with your lack of restraint in diplomatic dealings...appointing Lorenzo as representative in your stead…

Leopold felt the air sucked from his lungs, and for a moment, he completely forgot what he was doing. Wine spilled over the rim of his glass and onto the counter, painting up his sleeve and across the bottom portion of the letter purple. He cursed, then set the bottle to the side and rescued the note from the expanding puddle. He read that section again.

...though he is disappointed with your lack of restraint in diplomatic dealings, especially after his repeated warnings to conduct yourself more professionally. You’ve elected to ignore those warnings, and as such, have left your father no other option than to revoke your delegate status and call you home. He will be appointing Lorenzo as representative in your stead, effective immediately…

“Shit.” Leopold ran his hand through his hair. He took a long swig from his drink, then thought some more about what he had just read. Shit!

He couldn’t leave now, not after taking charge of the Congress, after beating back Lothan Manolis and the other idiotic representatives from idiotic factions. Not after allying so closely with Wanda, building out a team of loyal supporters, �nding the Decay girl, recruiting a team of investigators. He was doing so fucking well .

And he was getting removed over what — his conduct? It made him want to gag up the wine he had just swallowed. He couldn’t even remember receiving a single warning from his father. And he really thought Lorenzo —fuck-every-creature-that-breathes, boy-with-the-diplomatic-skills-of-a-toaster Lorenzo— would do a better job? Leopold loved his brother, and the kid had some very useful skills, but he was not a leader. Not like him.

Leopold’s mind raced. He needed an excuse, a way to leave without losing face. He could blame his father’s injury, or his �ancée’s disappearance, but those were both a bit used out at this point, and could easily be used to make him look weak and emotional by someone like Lothan. But what else…

Ironically, it was Lorenzo who saved him. He entered the room triumphantly, an enormous smile on his face. Then, upon seeing the mess Leopold had made, his smile turned to a smirk.


“Had a bit too much, have you?” he quipped. His eye caught the wet paper in Leopold’s hand, and his eyebrows went up inquisitively. “News from Miami?”

Leopold masked his concern and nodded. “Yes,” he said, “...and yes. Just what they’re doing about the Battery,” he lied. “Well they haven’t moved it, have they?” Lorenzo asked, and Leopold shook his head. “Just adding security.” That satis�ed Lorenzo, so he moved to the couch and laid down, setting his feet on the co�ee

table. Leopold set the note back on the counter, directly onto the puddle of spilled wine, so that the deep violet overtook the words on the page and redacted them forever.

“I have some news of my own,” Lorenzo said. Leopold unbuttoned his shirt and freed his arm from his wet sleeve.

“That is?” “Remember how you told me to �nd out about Tatyanna Cardinale’s private investigation?

Well, I called up some of my old Class One Academy buddies, one of whom is now a sort of triple-agent in the NEST-F, and you wouldn’t believe what they had to say.”

Leopold headed into his bedroom and picked out a new button up, a white one, identical to the one he had worn before.

“The chancellor had some spies in�ltrate an organized crime ring out in Pyre,” Lorenzo continued. “Snake Bay Pirates, they call themselves.”

Leopold sco�ed. “Sounds more like a Little League team than a gang.” “Well, they’re apparently pretty dangerous. And good at what they do. Which is to locate

things and then subsequently steal those things. Like, say, the Fire Battery. For clients. Like, say, the Fire Government.”

That caught Leopold’s attention. “Pyre’s trying to �nd their Battery before this maniac does,” he said under his breath. Lorenzo nodded.

“Exactly. Which has probably elevated getting a hold of the Fire Battery right to the top of the maniac’s to-do list. Which means…” Lorenzo trailed o�, letting Leopold �nish.

“If we �nd the Battery, all we have to do is wait, and we’ll �nd the person behind all this.” Lorenzo nodded. “It’s a bit oversimpli�ed, but for now, it works. And the best part is this: I

happen to know exactly where those spies will be tomorrow night. Thankfully for us, the Snake Bay Pirates keep a tight schedule and prefer quiet dive bars to elaborate secret headquarters.”

Leopold grinned. It was the perfect storm. And the perfect excuse. “Then I’ll have them fuel the jet. We’ll leave �rst thing—” he started, then thought about it,

and decided “—at noon tomorrow. Ainsley will �ll in as the diplomat until I’m back.” He moved back to the kitchen, took the towel from the sink, and used it to soak up the rest of

the wine on the counter. He tossed it, along with the remains of the letter, in the sink, and let the water run, pulling the paper apart bit by bit.

However long that might be.


Chapter 29 Maxim — The Phone Call Maxim stared in complete shock at the �le laying on the table. In thick, bold lettering on top, it

stated H. AND E. GLASS FOUND GUILTY OF STEALING THE AIR BATTERY AND DISRUPTING THE PEACE. THE PEOPLE’S NATION OF STRATOS DECLARES THAT THEY WANT THE PAIR EXECUTED .

However, no matter how hard he searched, there was absolutely no mention of a motive or a third party involved in the theft. The air battery hasn’t been recovered since the theft. Maxim started chewing on his nail. Ireland needed to know, but how will he get in contact with her? Suddenly, Maxim had a bright idea. He could call, using the payphone in the basement �le room, that way people wouldn’t hear him.

Maxim immediately stood up and walked into the stairwell that led to the basement. As he entered, he noticed the payphone hanging on the wall. Quickly, he walked over and

inserted a coin. As the phone began to ring, he looked around nervously. Was that just a shadow, or was someone else in the room with him?

Finally Ireland picked up on the other end. “Hello?” She asked quietly. Maxim shuddered in a deep breath. “Hello?!” “I-Ireland?” Maxim asked in a shaky voice. He eyed the dark shadow. “Maxim? Are you alright? Why did you call?” Maxim sighed, nerves beginning to skyrocket. “I found a �le on your parents.” “What?” “It was hidden deep in the �les in the basement here.” Maxim held the phone tightly. His voice

was beginning to pitch. The shadow had become four shadows. “Listen, Ireland, your parents…” One of the shadows reached over and knocked an entire �le to the ground. “Y-your parents stole the air battery.” “W-what? Why did they steal the battery?” “It says in the �le that they were stationed undercover in Stratos and were approached by an

unknown person to help them �nd the battery.” The shadows were close enough now to see their faces. Maxim’s body was rigid in fear, but he had to tell Ireland. He needed her to know the truth about her parents.

“Do we know who the person was?” “No, I don’t think they ever found out who the person was. Listen, Ireland… Your parents,

they were branded traitors in both the Neros Institute and the Magical Coalition. They… that’s why they were killed.”

Ireland took in a shaky breath over the call. “Ok, thank you for telling me.”


Suddenly, Maxim realized that this could be the end for him. They could kill him in this basement and no one would ever know.

“Ireland… Ireland, I think they know where I am.” “What? Maxim, move, now!” One of the shadows ran up to the glass of the payphone and slammed its hand on the glass.

Maxim needed to go. NOW . “Ireland, I’m sorry, I’m so sor — ,” The door swung open, and the shadow grabbed Maxim,

slamming him hard into the wall behind him. The phone slipped from his �ngers, landing on the ground.

“Maxim, Maxim, where are you?! Maxim, please respond!” Ireland’s shouting could be heard clearly on the other end. “Max — .”

The man standing in front of Maxim swiftly took out a knife and cut the wire, ending the call. Before Maxim could say anything, the man grabbed his hair and slammed his head back into the wall again. And again.

Maxim’s eyes blurred as he slipped into unconsciousness.


Chapter 30 Eleanor — Fateful Meetings A subtle breeze �led in through the woods. Eleanor walked with a backpack slung over her

shoulder, �ghting o� salty tears that threatened to fall. This was a such a stupid mistake. Was running away ever the solution to anything? Eleanor knew the answer to that: No. But it was the only option she could a�ord, and that was better than burdening her mother and sister any longer. Her mind was a battle�eld, often succumbing to the soldiers her thoughts conjured.

Worthless. A coward. Your family is better off without you. You’re supposed to protect them, but you can’t even do that properly. How can you sleep, knowing that you’re the reason little Ruth is suffering and will be in pain.

A sudden crunching sound brought her back to reality. She scrambled to hide behind a tree with a wide enough trunk to conceal her from the view of an unknown party. The sounds moved closer with each passing second, causing Eleanor’s nervous system to go into a frenzy. She closed her eyes for a minute and took deep breaths to try and calm herself down. Once she gained control, she slowly peeked over a branch.

As she looked over, she could see a young woman backed against a tree, short brown hair blending into the dark of the trees. She had blood dripping down her temple in thin streams. Her eyes were shut, perhaps in concentration. In front of her was a rather large group of people, all brandishing weapons of some sort. However, the most curious thing was the fact that some of the people were attacking the group, some were protecting the woman, and yet others still were trying to reach over the others and attack her.

The brown-haired woman’s eyes squinted even harder in concentration. As the blood dripped steadily down her face, Eleanor could see her �ngers were trembling. They suddenly spasmed, and the uniformed woman in front of her shivered harshly and spun around, facing the woman.

“The Neros Institute has important business with you, Ireland Glass,” the unknown woman said as she stared at the person standing against the tree.

“Oh, that’s good to know,” Ireland slurred, eyes beginning to loll. Ireland’s �st suddenly tightened, and a haze spread over the woman’s face for a moment, before she shook her head.

“Nice try.” Eleanor sti�ed a gasp as the uniformed woman drew her dagger and stabbed it into Ireland’s

left side. Ireland’s eyes �ew open in shock, and the entire group turned around to face the woman. “Oh, you’re in for it now,” one of the uniformed men said in a low, gravely voice as he too drew

his weapon. Ireland gasped as her hand �ew to her wound, quickly being covered in blood. However, Eleanor could see that, while Ireland’s right hand was covering the wound, her left

hand was sneaking toward her back, almost as if… Thwack. There was the hilt of a knife sticking out of the right eye of the uniformed woman.


Ireland winced, and reached out to grab the knife, to pull it out and start hacking away at her enemies, when Eleanor’s hand wrapped itself around the hilt. She pulled it out of the person.

“You need to sit down,” Eleanor demanded of Ireland as she swung her arm in a graceful arc. As she swung her arm around, she slipped into their bodies and relaxed all of their muscles,

forcing them into falling into a heap on the ground into unconsciousness. Eleanor looked over to where Ireland was standing, only to see her fall down and also start to lose consciousness. Eleanor hurried over to her side. She put her arm around Ireland, lifting her up into a standing position with her back leaning against a tree trunk.

“Wha...wha are you doin…” she mumbled, her eyes �ickering to stay open. Ireland started to move.

“Stay still, or you’ll lose more blood.” Eleanor ripped o� a piece of her sleeve and pressed it into the side of Ireland’s head in an attempt to stop the blood �ow. Her head started to loll to the side, an indication that she was losing consciousness. Eleanor tapped her cheek. “Come on, stay with me.”

Eleanor continued to press the bloodied cloth against her head until the blood �ow ceased. Then she put the palms of her hands against Ireland’s side wound and closed her eyes once more. She tried to focus on a central theme of healing within her mind, drawing up warmth from her arteries and veins. She could feel the warmth seeping into Ireland and watched as life sprang into her once more.

Ireland’s eyes �uttered for the second time, but this time, they stayed open. “Why’d you help me?”

Eleanor shrugged. “Well, I couldn’t very well leave you here to die. Plus, it’s in my nature to care.”

Ireland smiled, just a little. “Let’s gather up some �rewood.”

Eleanor threw the last of the logs into the pile and started to rub two pieces of rock against one another. Silence continued between the two girls as she tried to create �re.

“Damn it.” Eleanor smashed the rocks into the ground. “This is pointless.” “Having trouble?” Ireland said, leaning against a tree. Eleanor could tell that she was smirking,

clearly making fun of Eleanor’s inability to make �re. “What, you think you can do better?” Eleanor challenged, holding out the rocks in a

competitive motion. “Yes.” Ireland moved away from the tree she was leaning against, and pulled out a silver lighter. “That’s cheating,” Eleanor said in a joking manner, moving aside to let Ireland start the �re. “So, clearly you’re from the Sanctuary, right?” Ireland said, nodding her head toward her

healed side wound. She kneeled down and turned on the lighter. “You a part of the cult here or what?” “Cult? I’m from the Life Faction.” Eleanor gave her a confused look. “Yeah, that. I heard you choose your leader based on who is gifted ‘Mother’s Clarity’ by

drinking hallucinogenic tree sap.” Ireland gave a small cheer as the logs lit on �re. “So, yes, a cult.”


“I don’t see how that makes our people part of a cult. And for your information, we don’t choose by drinking the tree sap. The tree sap chooses the person with the most wisdom and then joins with his or her soul.”

“Yeah, well, the dictionary de�nition of a cult is both a group of people whose religious beliefs are seen as strange by other people, and a group of people whose admiration is misplaced.” Ireland stood up and walked over to Eleanor, until she was towering over her. Their faces were so close that if Eleanor lifted her feet just slightly, they would be kissing. “I think worshipping a tree is very strange and misplaced.” Ireland’s eyes �icked to Eleanor’s lips. “But that’s just what I think.” Ireland raised her hand to cup Eleanor’s face.

Eleanor felt her heart rate speed up just ever so slightly and when Ireland’s �nger grazed her cheek, a rush of burning desire moved beneath her skin and into the pit of her stomach. “How are we de�ning strange?”

Ireland leaned in close, lips next to Eleanor’s ear. “Unusual, unexpected, unknown. Like you.” She pressed her lips to the shell of Eleanor’s ear. “Is this ok?”


Chapter 31 Chenxue — Way Too Many People Walk into a Bar

“But Mount Rainier doesn’t have a whole lot of big caves for a dragon.” “Chenxue, we’re talking about a dragon, he probably just blasted a hole in the mountainside

and called it a day.” Chenxue and Xialing talked loudly in the booth seat, pointing at various maps and books

while they scarfed down french fries. Locating the Fire Battery over lunch had become a daily routine for the past three weeks.

“Dragons breathe �re, not dynamite. Unless our dragon had a pickaxe, he’s not getting through andesite,” Chenxue said, a mouth half full of food.

“Klaus, can dragon �re blast rock?” Xialing said over the seat of the booth. “I— probably?” Klaus said bewildered. “As far as stories go, dragons could pretty much do

whatever they wanted.” “Case closed,” Xialing said triumphantly. “You haven’t closed shit!” Chenxue protested, leaning over and taking more fries. “You’re

going to take a ‘probably’ as a ‘yes?’” “It’s more of a ‘yes’ than it is a ‘no.’” “I feel like you’re forgetting that we’re trying to eliminate possibilities.” “If we take o� a mountain without being absolutely sure, we might pass right over the Battery.

And stop stealing my fries!” “Full house!” Mika shouted triumphantly, slamming her cards on the table. Klaus recorded the

updated scores as Gustav sighed heavily. “How about it, make any more progress?” he said as he walked over to the booth. “We’re still stuck at three. There just isn’t anything that could rule any of these mountains

out,” Xialing said, considering the notes in front of them. “Like hell there isn’t,” Chenxue said from the bar, where he was pouring himself a drink. Gustav looked at the large map thoughtfully. “I mean, as far as locating a Battery goes, three is

impressive on its own. Maybe you’ll just have to search all of them?” “We’d love to climb three freezing mountain tops and spend days searching through them,

trust me. But the truth is we just don’t have the resources to stage a large-scale search, let alone three,” Chenxue said as he returned.

“Thankfully, we do.” Everyone turned at once to see who was at the door. Viper walked in, a group of �ve other men

wearing various animal masks following close behind. The bar fell silent, and the customers closest to the door looked down to avoid eye contact. “You’ve got taste, Xialing,” Viper said as he scanned the


décor of the area. “Lots of wooden furniture.” The men following him quickly �lled the area, blocking o� the exits.

“I’m afraid we’re closed for lunch,” Klaus said calmly. “Not when I’m here, you’re not,” Viper responded. “I’m just here to take a quick status report

on our little search.” “We’re getting close,” Xialing said as everyone stood up. Chenxue saw Gustav’s arms tense, and

he began to tug at the cu�s of his gloves. Six Mages against two were certainly bad odds. “We have several possible locations where the Battery might be located.”

“That’s very impressive,” Viper said. He sat down at the bar and looked lazily at Klaus. “Five whiskeys on rocks, please. And you can all calm down? We’re not here for a �ght.” He turned to Xialing. “So, where are these possible locations?” Xialing reluctantly brought their notes to the bar, spreading the map out on the tabletop. Viper scanned the paper up and down. “Active volcanoes. We can search through three sites easily enough, but the climb will take time. What’s your reasoning for these locations?”

Xialing sat down nervously as Chenxue did the same. “We did some research, and it seems likely that…someone is hiding in the mountains, to keep the Battery hidden.”

Viper laughed as he took a picture of the notes with his phone. “It checks out. Only a real idiot would wander around the peak of an active volcano. Alright, here’s the deal. I’ll send out groups to check out the peaks. If we �nd something, you get your pay, and you get your boyfriend here o� the hook. If we �nd nothing, well…you know.”

“Do we have enough cars for that?” one of the masked men asked. “I’ve got a contact that can hook us up. Hope you like ugly SUVs.” The �ve masked men

laughed, and the tension seemed to ease down. “Mika, could you clean up the back? I had to move a shipment of food today and it’s kind of a

mess,” Klaus said casually as he wiped down some tables. “Not yet. If there’s a rush, you’ll need all hands on deck,” she replied. “You think it’ll be a Mage that’s hiding the Fire Battery?” one of the masked men asked Viper. “What else would it be?” “Could be a drube.” Viper took a long drink of whiskey. “Well, I hope it’s a drube. It’ll make me feel less guilty

when I kill ‘em.” Klaus gave Gustav a warning glance, but it was too late. “And why’s that?” the bearded giant asked, folding his arms. “They’re a plague on our species. Human purist groups, the Council of Grey? All they know is

how to stir up shit. Can’t even use magic.” Viper drank the rest of his whiskey in one fell swoop. He turned to the rest of his crew. “To make things worse, they keep having kids. Trust me, every drube I axe is another favor I’m doing for society.”

Before Gustav could respond, Klaus stepped in abruptly. “I’m sorry, but we’re closing up soon. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”


“You close up when we’re �nished here,” Viper snarled, slamming his empty glass on the table. Two of the men �inched behind their matching owl masks.

“Then I’d be glad to serve,” Klaus said. He slid behind the bar and tried to move Gustav out of the way without missing a beat.

“No, no, your ogre of a friend looks like he has something to say,” Viper said. “Come on then, out with it! What, your girlfriend a drube or something?” The masked men laughed uproariously. “Mages with drubes. Disgusting.”

Mika quietly took out her phone and disappeared into one of the side rooms. “You know, sometimes two Mages can have a drube kid too,” one of the masked men said. “Impossible. Drubes only happen when one of the parents is a drube.” “Then where did they come from?” “The mom was probably getting busy with someone else!” Viper said, chortling. Chenxue didn’t hear his chair hit the ground as he stood up. Blood was rushing through the

veins in his temples with a panicked frequency. “I think it’s time you leave.” The laughter died, and the bar fell silent. Viper stood up and walked to Chenxue, his nose only

centimeters away. “And what if I don’t?” Mika had reentered the room and was watching silently from the side. Xialing had also stood up quietly. “A Dark Mage,” Viper turned around to look at the bar sta�, “hanging out with a bunch of drubes.” Klaus �inched. “Oh yeah, I know. I can tell by the way you all look. I was going to let it slide since I’m in a…business arrangement of sorts with one of your colleagues. But if we’re going to get all confrontational about it, there might be an accident here.” He put his hand in a pouch that was hanging from his belt. “Only thing that burns better than �esh is wooden furniture. And all this kindling is practically begging for a �re.”

Chenxue swung wildly with his right arm, twisting his entire body in a blind fury, but Viper caught his �st easily. “Hell�re it is,” he hissed, signaling to the men behind him. A burst of �re exploded at Chenxue’s chest, blasting him backwards into the chairs behind.

“Wait, Viper, don’t do this!” Xialing shouted, her hands outstretched. “Get out of here, Xialing,” Viper said casually as his men rushed forward, blasting �re at the

other employees. He patted the phone that was in his right jean pocket. “You did some good work here. Tell you what, leave now, and you’re back up to one hundred grand.”

Xialing hesitated, rooted to the spot. “All I want is to help you. You really want to throw all that away for these people?” There was no way around it. Without Viper, there wasn’t a chance in hell that Xialing could

keep up with the medication payments, much less the operation. She slowly started walking for the door, her back turned to the rest. It was for her mom, it was always for her mom, the woman who su�ered for years silently to not worry her family, who kept a cheerful attitude even though she only could make it through the day on strong painkillers. For her dad, who worked double shifts at the car factory just to keep the lights on. Nothing was ever achieved without sacri�ce, and her parents had already been so willing to sacri�ce so much. They were strong, and she needed to be strong, for them...


Mika screamed as a blast of �re seared her shoulder as it passed by. Chenxue stepped in front of Mika, shielding her with his body before the next blast came. “XIALING!”

It was a desperate cry, the sound of a dying man. Xialing turned on the spot, her eyes unfocused and wild. Viper caught her �aming hand before it could collide with his skull, clicking his tongue as he shook his head. “Whatever happened to your sense of loyalty?” A burst of �re erupted towards Xialing.

Xialing plunged her hand in her powder bag quickly while ducking under a table. She heard a laugh and the sound of bottles breaking from the front as another burst of �ames roared overhead. With a kick, she slid horizontally on the ground from underneath the table, taking a shot straight at one of the masked men in the back. A controlled arrow of �re, thin and blindingly fast, zipped through the air and struck one of the owl men in the chest, sending him �ying out the front window with a crash.

A masked man let forward a whip of �re, which lashed Klaus across the face and sent him stumbling into the cabinets against the wall. He lunged for Klaus when a large hand grabbed the attacker’s face. Gustav let out a primal roar and slammed the masked man downward, breaking the thick wooden bar table. Gustav leapt over the table at the remaining owl-masked man, who stepped backwards and put his hands forward with a twist. Gustav’s eyes unfocused mid-lunge, and he collapsed onto the ground in an unconscious heap. The man tore o� his mask and looked through the shattered window in a panic. “Reginald, we need to put them down now!”

The other owl-masked man was only just crawling up from the ground, which was littered with glass shards. “But Chancellor Cardinale’s orders were —”

“Never mind her orders. We can’t get intel out of corpses.” Chenxue zipped his jacket around him tightly and pulled on his hood before darting forward,

close to the ground. “There’s our Darkness user!” Viper shouted in glee. He pinched a bit of powder between his �ngers and blew out from his hand, bathing the �oor in bright purple �ames. Chenxue tucked his hands into his sleeves and did a forward roll over the �re, which seemed to die on contact with his clothing. Landing right in front of Viper, he shot upward, smashing an empty bottle of alcohol against the man’s chin.

Viper’s mouth poured out blood. As he reached backwards to get more powder, another two arrows of �re struck him in the shoulder, knocking him backwards. The two remaining masked men came to his aid, blowing �re towards Xialing like two �amethrowers when a blast of air exploded outwards from the back of the bar, blowing out the two �ames.

“You should have just left when we told you to,” Mika said through gritted teeth. She let out several more small lashes of air, but Viper ducked under them. Chenxue ran towards the back of the bar as nearby chairs and tables were sent �ying. Mika roared as she swung wildly left and right, carving deep cuts in the �oor with each blade of air, but Viper continued to get closer. He reached behind again for powder, and Xialing shot another �re arrow. But as the arrow streaked through the air, one of Mika’s blasts of air hit it, and it was scattered.


“Sorry!” Mika said, noticing Viper closing in from the corner of her eye. With a shout of surprise, she prepared another blast of air.

“You haven’t been in a �ght before, have you?” he asked with a grin as he blew on the powder in his right hand. Black smoke tinged with embers burst outwards, �lling the air and seeping into everyone’s lungs. Mika coughed heavily and saw her blade of air dissipate. “Air Mages need to breathe if they want to �ght,” Viper said, appearing from the smoke less than �ve feet from her.

“Damnit,” Xialing said with a cough. She stood up to try to run for a tackle when one of the masked men darted in front of her. He swung his arm around, using a blast of �re to propel it even faster, and elbowed her in the gut, launching her into a wooden pillar. The wood cracked as she hit it, and Xialing felt her very ribcage shake on impact. Viper’s hand was coated with another powder, and when he pushed his hand forward, it was coated in a blue �ame. “Mika!” Chenxue shouted as he ran in between the two, opening his jacket.

Viper’s hand hit Chenxue’s jacket, and the blue �re exploded against it, blowing away the remaining smoke. Viper looked at the fabric in astonishment. It was di�erent from the last time in the alley, or perhaps it was the same, and Viper was only now seeing it up close. He had thought that the �re was being put out by Chenxue’s darkness magic, but it seemed that his jacket itself was consuming the �re, swallowing it into an abyss of darkness.

“What is that jacket?” Viper muttered. He tried to reach for more powder when his right hand was suddenly jerked forward. He looked down to see his hand wrapped in a tight-�tting black glove. A thin strand led from the glove to Chenxue’s hand.

“Get out of here, Mika!” Chenxue shouted. He pulled on the thread, and Viper felt himself lurch forward again, this time into a left hook that clocked him across the face. The thread loosened to let him hit the ground and suddenly pulled again. No, it wasn’t pulling, it was shrinking . The line shrank until Chenxue grabbed Viper by the wrist and slammed him into the wall with excessive force. Chenxue stumbled backwards from the momentum of the throw, and Viper took out a switchblade with his free hand. As he brought the blade down on the thread, the entire glove seemed to unravel itself and shoot back to Chenxue before it could be cut. Viper looked at Chenxue, completely befuddled. Where was his jacket? It didn’t matter. “You’re scrappy, kid, but unre�ned.”

The thread �nished shrinking back into Chenxue’s gloves when Viper suddenly lunged forward. Chenxue’s eyes widened as a �ash of silver shot forward, only narrowly missing his side. Viper continued his assault, a �urry of jabs and crosses interlaced with the occasional thrust of his switchblade. There was a �ash of �re above, and Chenxue’s eyes snapped upwards to the ceiling. He only managed to glimpse the last few embers of the distraction when a scorching pain radiated from his shoulder. Chenxue fell backwards onto Mika with a howl of pain as he clutched the switchblade sticking out of him. Viper smiled viciously as �re gathered in his hand.

One of the masked men in front of Xialing took a nearby chair and swung for her head when she let out a well-timed blast of �re that sent the chair �ying and caused her to skid towards the entrance along the ground. Xialing felt a pounding pain in her lungs and tried to catch her breath when a blast of �re from the other Mage caught her in the shoulder. As she spun around from the


impact, she let loose another two arrows of �re, which struck one of the men in the face and knocked him into the janitor’s closet. “Damnit,” she muttered to herself as her free hand felt the bottom of her powder bag. The other masked man rushed forward, and leapt into the air, bringing down a blanket of �re. Xialing gritted her teeth and took all the powder she had left to launch a counterblast, which only managed to dissipate some of the �re as it crashed onto the ground.

The remaining masked man walked forward con�dently with a �reball in his hand towards Xialing, who stood shaking in the middle of a burning �oor. He made a movement to launch the �reball directly at her head when suddenly, his eyes became unfocused and he became completely still, as if in a trance. Xialing saw the man’s eyes fade to white, then begin to spiral...

“Get out of here,” an owl-masked man said with a strained voice. He had one hand outstretched, while the other was tightly grasping his own head.

“You’re at your limit, don’t push yourself further, Reginald,” the other owl-masked man said. “Back. There,” Reginald said, ignoring his partner. He gestured with his hand, and the masked

man who had only been seconds away from killing Xialing turned like a zombie and threw his �reball at Viper. With a �ash of �re, Viper smacked the �reball away, causing it to explode against the wall. Reginald collapsed into a heap, breathing heavily, but lifted his head, now pointing his hands at Viper.

Viper’s movements froze, and his face contorted as he struggled against Reginald’s in�uence. “So you were the mole. I hope you remember that we don’t take kindly to turncoats,” Viper stammered as his whole body shook with e�ort. With a strange, twitchy movement, he managed to bring his hands together, causing a cloud of acrid smoke and �re to erupt from his location. With the �nal blast, the roof of the pub collapsed, and Reginald fell to the ground, still.

“Reggie? Come on, man, wake up,” the owl-masked man said, shaking Reginald gently. The sta� of the pub stood in a circle among the ruins as ambulances �ooded the scene.

“What happened?” Xialing asked gently. The owl-masked man put Reginald down and shook his head in resignation. “He pushed his

abilities too far and fell into the Void.” “The Void? What’s that?” Chenxue said as the paramedic �nished wrapping up his shoulder. “It’s an endless expanse where individuality slowly dies, the dark re�ection of consciousness.

When Mind Mages overexert themselves, they risk falling into that ocean.” “I’m so sorry. He was trying to protect us,” Mika said. “Yes, he was that kind of person. It was his bad fortune, being paired up with a guy like me.”

The masked man smiled sadly. “I was smart enough to become a �eld agent, but my magic is too weak to use in combat. Talk about useless, huh?” he said to Chenxue.

Chenxue gave a sti� smile in response. “What were two Mind Mages doing with the Snake Bay Pirates?” he asked.

“They’re NEST-F spies, sent to in�ltrate the Snake Bay Pirates and �nd the Fire Battery, isn’t that right?” They turned to see two men stepping out of a limousine, both dressed in elaborate


clothing lined with gold accents. The taller of the two gestured to the charred remains of the bar and turned to the other. “So much for quiet dive bar, huh?”

“Where did you hear that? That’s highly classi�ed information. Who are you?” The owl-masked man seemed angry, but was clearly intimidated by the suited man.

“My name is Leopold Dazzle, crown prince of Kingdom Miami, et cetera, et cetera. This is my brother, Lorenzo. We have some questions for you.”

“You pencil-pushers at Neros aren’t the only people who are good at gathering intel,” Lorenzo said with a mocking laugh. He used his foot to point at Reginald’s unconscious body. “And considering what a mess you’ve made of the whole situation, you really should be more grateful that we’re here to clean it all up. But, we of Kingdom Miami are magnanimous rulers, so we can consider this a debt forgiven if you can tell us where the Fire Battery is.”

“That’s—” the masked man stuttered. “Classi�ed, yes, I’m aware,” Leopold interrupted. “But you know what’s at stake. Willing to

sacri�ce the world over a non-disclosure agreement?” The masked man swallowed hard. “They don’t have it, but they will soon. And they—” he

pointed to Chenxue and Xialing, "—know where it is.” Leopold looked skeptically at the two. They couldn’t have been more than a year or two out of

college. “Alright. How about you tell us where you think the Fire Battery is, and we’ll take it from there.”

“Why exactly should we tell you anything?” Xialing looked at Chenxue, surprised that he was capable of speaking so spitefully. “The Snake Bay Pirates are just going to sell the Battery to the Pyre government anyways. It’ll get to the Congress.”

“It isn’t quite so simple. Someone is out there, hunting for the Batteries. They’ve got power, and they’ve got people, and as impressive as the Snake Bay Little League team is, they’ll wipe them out before the second inning. We need to secure that Battery as soon as possible.”

“You’re wrong.” Lorenzo turned to the masked man, who had suddenly spoken up. “How so?” “The Snake Bay Pirates were bought out by a third party. Probably the same person you’re

talking about.” “Then add money to our interfactional man of mystery’s impressive list of resources. And this

is the part where you tell me that you’ve uncovered his identity, right?” The man shook his head. “No. But he did.” He pointed at Reginald, and all eyes followed. The

identity of the person who had slaughtered the Nox Republic and Vox Mortis, locked in a comatose mind.”

Lorenzo laughed bitterly. “Fantastic. So, this is a Mage in the Void. Any way to get this bastard back?”

“If there is, it’ll be back at the Neros Institute.” Leopold turned to Xialing. “Where’s this Battery, generally speaking?” “Mountains out west.”


Damn it . It was practically in the opposite direction. “Lorenzo, I need a private word with you. Get these two Mind Mages into a car. And you—” he pointed to Chenxue and Xialing "—stay put.” Leopold took his brother aside and leaned close to him. “So. We go north, we might �nd this guy’s identity. We go west, we might �nd the Battery itself. But it seems like we’ll need to search an entire mountain, and we don’t even know what the damn thing looks like. And on the other hand, getting any intel from a mage in the Void seems like an even longer shot.” Leopold sighed heavily. Either trip would be a full day, at least. “Hard to tell what the right move is here.”

Lorenzo seemed surprisingly focused as well, staring at the ground and no doubt doing similar mental math. “It depends on what’s more important. The Battery, or his identity.”

“Do you even think that Neros has a way to retrieve minds in the Void?” Lorenzo laughed. “Mind mages have been around for hundreds of years. There was talk of the

type of machine we’d need when I was studying there, but I don’t think they were having much success with it. Even so, I’d be more surprised if those brainiacs haven’t found some workaround. The real challenge will be getting them to share what info they retrieve with us. But like I said, I have some powerful friends there.” Lorenzo closed his eyes on concentration. There was a chance that the retrieval of the Fire Battery would go smoothly. But at Neros... He looked at Leopold. They needed his support. “I think Neros is of higher priority.”

“I agree,” Leopold said �rmly. “But we should split up. Cover more ground. I’ll go to Neros, and—”

“No. We’ll both go to Neros.” Leopold was taken aback. Lorenzo, a man practically made of irony, spoke with a sincerity that Leopold had never seen before. “We’re brothers. We stick together.”

Leopold looked at Lorenzo with kinder eyes. “Alright, brother. But what should we do about them? They seem innocuous enough, but if they �nd the Battery, I certainly don’t trust them to deliver it back to the Congress safely.”

“Fine.” Lorenzo ran a hand through his hair. “We’ll need someone to ‘pick it up’ from them if they �nd it. Someone ruthless.”

Leopold hesitated as he took out his phone. It was incredibly irregular. But there weren’t many people he could trust with this. He punched in the phone number.

Lorenzo looked at the phone uneasily. “Are you sure?” “She’ll get it done.”

Chenxue watched their ambulance leave before he walked over to Klaus. “I’m sorry. I nearly got us killed.”

Klaus waved his hand dismissively as he kept a dry cloth pressed to the burn on his face. “Honestly, we were reaching a point where a �ght was inevitable. You guys did good, �ghting them o�. I honestly thought none of us were going to make it out of there.”

“How’s Gustav?” “Just asleep, can you believe it? Must have been the doing of one of those Mind Mages,” Klaus

laughed as much as he could without moving too much of the burned areas of his face. Chenxue


continued to look at the ground, despondent. “Look, I’m not sure if this’ll be worth much, but as a non-Mage? I’m pretty glad someone knocked the stu�ng out of some of those guys.”

Xialing sat down on the ground next to Mika and sighed heavily. “You alright?” she asked. “As alright as I can be,” Mika replied. She sat cross legged on the ground watching the

�re�ghters put out the remains of the bar, which sat in charred heaps of wood. “Didn’t know you were an Air Mage. That’s pretty cool,” Xialing said as she sat down next to

her. “Not a very good one, apparently,” Mika replied dejectedly. “Where’d you learn how to �ght

like that?” Xialing shifted uncomfortably. “Well, I did run with that crew for a while. Picked up some

things here and there.” “Oh. I see.” Mika said. She looked at her hands. “You kill anyone before?” “No.” Xialing said �rmly. Mika recoiled, but settled back to her position. “We’ve gotta get that Battery before they do.

The third party’s the mysterious person collecting the Batteries, it’s gotta be.” Mika’s gaze was somewhere o� in the distance, focused on something that Xialing couldn’t see.

“Well, with what happened tonight, I’m thinking we should just clean our hands of this.” “Are you saying we should just walk away?” “Yeah, pretty much.” Mika stood up, incensed. “After what they did to my friends? What they did to us?” Xialing closed her eyes in frustration. “If we keep chasing this, more people might get hurt,

don’t you get that?” “If this person gets all the Batteries, plenty more people are going to die. Don’t you care about

that?” “We didn’t sign up for a war.” “War is happening either way! I don’t get why—” “Mika, what’s this really about?” Mika stopped in surprise at the question. Xialing turned to

look her in the eyes. “There’s some other, more important reason you’re �red up about this, I know it.” Before Mika could answer, another car pulled up the street, an old red sedan that lurched as it

moved forward. The driver’s seat door opened, and Roger Badger stepped out. “Is everyone okay?” he asked as he approached the two. “Mr. Badger, what are you doing here?” Chenxue asked as he joined the group. “I heard what happened on the news. Glad to see you guys are safe.” Roger seemed breathless

as he spoke, and he fumbled with some papers in his car. “I knew I had to �nd you guys as soon as possible. Here, look at this.” He handed Chenxue a tablet that had a news article pulled up.

“Explosions at Crawford’s Crag. Geologists Ba�ed by Unexpected Phenomena,” Chenxue read aloud.

“The Battery!” Mika exclaimed. She looked at Xialing. “That’s one of our three, right? We need to get moving, now.” But Xialing didn’t budge. “Chenxue?”


“I’m the one who messed everything up tonight. I don’t really feel like calling any shots for a while,” Chenxue said quietly.

“Guys …” Mika’s shoulders slumped. Roger gently took the tablet. “Was this the Snake Bay Pirates’ doing?” he said, looking at the

destruction. “Yeah,” Chenxue said. “I know what it feels like, to su�er a huge defeat and feel like there’s no reason to keep �ghting.

But it’s not over yet. They might know where the Battery might be, but they don’t have it in their hands, do they? We can still make all of this right.”

“They said a third party was going to buy the Battery from the Snake Bay Pirates. Someone outside of the Congress,” Xialing said.

“Then the situation is more urgent than I thought. Come on,” Roger said, looking at Chenxue especially. “We have a chance to save the world here.”

Chenxue smiled in a painful kind of way. “How about it, Xialing? Want to save the world today?”

She sighed and looked at the ruins of the bar once more. “Sure. Let’s go for it.” Mika pumped her �st in the air as Roger smiled warmly.

“We should head out soon. When do you think you can get your things packed?” he asked. “We’re looking at a day of travel to go up the mountain, at least.”

“I can be ready by tomorrow morning,” Xialing said. The ambulances had all but left the premises, leaving the four of them standing in an abandoned street. Chenxue felt the dark shadow that had been over his heart pass by, and now, with a plan again, his surroundings seemed to be in sharper focus.


Chapter 32 Ruby — The Craigslist Ruby didn’t answer Prince Dazzle’s requests immediately. The others gleefully accepted the

o�er, but she would need some time to think it over. She spent a long, sleepless night worrying, and �nally came to a conclusion early in the morning. She made a phone call.

“I wanted to call to say goodbye.” “What?” “I mean I’m done here, Ashton.” replied Ruby. Silence. She continued on. “I think it’s time I

go home. You don’t need me anymore.” “Right now, after we came all this way? I talked to Dazzle yesterday, and I think he’s going to

get Stratos to drop the charges. I think we’re on to something here.” said Ashton. What was that supposed to mean? Like this is some sort of road trip?

“Yes, Ashton. You’re seeming to forget I’m just a person. I’m no royalty, no son of a congressman, no… advisor to the mayor of Lux Aeterna . I’m not supposed to be doing these kinds of things. I’m in too deep, and I feel alone. I want to �nd others like myself.”

“Ruby—” “Goodbye, Ashton. I hope you learn what it means to respect others.” Ruby hung up and put

her phone back in her pocket. Whatever was next for Ashton and Rane and the girl was now no longer her problem. She had other problems to attend to.

She was standing on the outskirts of Oklahoma City, holding everything she brought. She was technically sentenced to home arrest at a hotel in the city, but freeing herself of the ankle bracelet had been easy enough, and she no longer had any need for the prince’s help. She had packed light: a few shirts, a change of pants. She hadn’t showered in days, and felt grimy. She felt even more grimy at what she did next. She stood on the side of the road and held out her thumb. A tractor-trailer soon pulled over.

“Hey, lady. You look lost. Far away from home?” said the enormous man in the truck. He was around Ruby’s age and spoke with a drawl. He looked to be a non-Mage.

“Yes, are you going to Kingdom Miami, by any chance?” “Damn close. You got cash for gas?” “I only have Miamian currency.” “Good enough, hop in.” Ruby took the passenger seat of the truck. It was worn, sticky, and covered in gray hairs. Ruby

turned around to look at the back seat, only to �nd the source of the hairs. She screamed. “Don’t worry about Blue,” said the man. “Rescued him from a pound. Was gonna be put

down, can you believe it? People talk shit about pit bulls but they—believe me, they are the most loyal dogs you’ll ever meet. He loves exploring. We travel across all the factions together, don’t we, Blue? ”

Ruby let out a tense heh . The dog sni�ed her hand, whined, and lay back down. “So, what’s a Dark Mage like you got to do in Kingdom Miami?”


“Oh, well, I’ve lived there for a few years now. I’m just going home now.” Ruby wasn’t in the mood to talk to this person, but she didn’t want to be rude.

“Must be lonely,” said the truck driver. Ruby paused. “It’s uh— well, you’re right. It’s pretty lonely. Especially after...you know.” “I know, Miss. It got my mother’s whole side of the family.” “Oh. I’m sorry.” Ruby was never good with consolation. “I never knew them, anyway. My daddy raised me.” he waved his hand dismissively. The two sat

in silence for what felt like an eternity. Kingdom Miami: 700 Miles. “So you must be from the Nox Republic, too?” asked Ruby. “Half-so. Part non-Mage, too.” “So you can, uh—” she gestured with her hands, as if wielding. “A little bit. I never really got the chance to practice any. And in Charlotte, you’d be looked at

real funny if you started screwing around with magic. They sure as Hell don’t like it down there. When the kids at school found out I could wield at all, well... ” He shook his head, laughing. Ruby stared at him, mouth agape.

“I haven’t met anyone of our kind in years, oh my God. I’ve been trying to for so long.” “That why you’re stuck hitchhiking in the middle of Stratos? Looking for others?” “Not exactly. Long story,” said Ruby. The man raised an eyebrow. Ruby continued. “I went to

the Nox Republic with some people to see if there were any survivors. Got to meet Prince Dazzle. He told me I was the last of our kind.”

“I won’t ask what you were doing going into the Nox Republic, but I’ll tell you that Prince Dazzle doesn’t know what he’s talking about. None of those politicians do. Miss, I’ll have you know that there are others. Living in the other factions.” He paused and looked at Ruby. “And you know what? I bet they wanna �nd you just as much as you wanna �nd them.”

Ruby contemplated what the man said. Neither of them said much for the rest of the trip, as the radio played softly in the background. The man eventually dropped Ruby o� a few miles outside of Kingdom Miami’s border.

“I went a little o� my route for you, Miss, but any more than this and I’d get in trouble with my boss. You’re gonna have to get o� here,” he said.

“It’s no worry at all, really. Thank you so much, uh—” “Name’s Douglas.” “Douglas. I’m Ruby.” “It was a pleasure to meet you, Ruby, and I hope you �nd what you’re looking for.” Ruby shut

the passenger door, and Douglas drove o� into the distance. Six hours later, Ruby arrived at her apartment. It was exactly how she left it. She had left the

television on, and it was playing the news. “...Congressional aids con�rm that the disaster in the Nox Republic was in fact an attack, not

an accident, and that there may be more to come. No group or individual has yet taken credit for the


attack, prompting many experts to warn that they may strike again. King Dazzle has again heightened security at the border, and calls for all citizens to remain vigilant and report suspicious behavior to local authorities...”

Ruby didn’t take any of it in. She logged onto her computer and put up an ad on Craigslist. Wanted: Dark Mages

They couldn’t have gotten all of us. Inquire at (555) 288-6092


Chapter 33 Maxim — The Void Maxim slowly blinked open his eyes in confusion. He was sitting in a reclining chair in a room

full of computers. His hands were handcu�ed to the arms of the reclining chair, and his chair was tilted backward, facing a bright light above him. He had electrodes on his forehead and chest, and a transparent jelly sparkling in the bright light was spread on his skin. If he tilted his head to the right, he would have seen a large computer box, complete with blinking lights and a �oating orb above it. Even further was a young boy, completely unconscious, handcu�ed to the chair in much the same fashion as Maxim.

Maxim tried pulling on the handcu�s, to no avail. He was �rmly trapped. He started to bite his lip, until it bled. He was sitting there with blood dripping down his face as Tatyanna Cardinale walked in.

“Hello, Maxim,” She said icily. She walked over to the computer box, placing her hand on top. “Do you know what this is?”

Maxim quickly shook his head, shaking slightly. “This here is the Harmonic Encephalon Admission Device,” She said, turning and nodding to

a group of people who were sitting at the computers. One of them �icked a switch, and the computer box began to hum. “It will send an electric current through your body and change your brain’s frequency to match poor Phoenix here. It will forcefully place you in the Void.”

A sudden burst of terror �ooded through Maxim’s body. If he fell into the Void, he would never come out again. He would be e�ectively brain-dead for the rest of his life.

“Why? Why are you doing this to me?” He whispered as he pulled on his handcu�s even more. Blood started to pour from his wrists in an even �ow. “What did I do wrong?”

Ignoring his plea, Tatyanna continued on. “Who did you call?” “What?” Tatyanna leaned in close, grabbing Maxim’s hair and pulling him so he was even with her. “Who did you tell about the air battery?” Maxim swallowed quickly. He couldn’t betray Ireland, he just couldn’t. He gritted his teeth

and glared �rmly at Tatyanna. She quickly gazed into his eyes and smirked. “Dispatch a group of NEST-F agents after Ireland Glass, and bring her back here. We can send

her into the Void as well,” Tatyanna said in a loud voice. One of the people by the computers nodded and quickly left the room.

Maxim �ushed. He was so screwed, so royally screwed. “Yes, yes you are,” Tatyanna agreed, letting go of Maxim and walking over to the computers.

“I’d much rather not throw you into the Void. But there are certain tidbits of information we just can’t let escape.”

“But… Stratos knows too,” Maxim whispered, �sts clenched tightly.


Tatyanna just smirked as her hand hovered over the button that would send the electric current through him.

“Let’s just say they won’t be saying anything anytime soon, seeing as they are buried ten feet under.”

She pressed the button, and Maxim’s body arced in agony as the electric currents �ooded through his body. He spasmed for a moment when suddenly...nothing.

Maxim screamed but no one could hear him. He was trapped in the Void.


Chapter 34 Eleanor — Revelations The cool night air circled around them as they sat around the �re for warmth. Eleanor stared

straight into the night; the silence was deafening. After what happened last night, she’d been trying to avoid Ireland.

Quick images �ashed through her head, but Eleanor shook them away. How could she ever look at Ireland ever again?

“You know, your thoughts are very loud,” Ireland said from the other side of the �re. “Everytime you replay last night in your mind, I’m treated to exactly what you saw .”

In that moment, Eleanor wanted more than anything for the ground to open up and swallow her whole. This was not happening, Ruth needed her and she ran away and she did THAT last night and —

“Wait, you know Ruth?” Ireland scrambled to her feet, eyes wide in panic. “Yeah, well, she’s my sister.” “Oh, shit.” Ireland reached out and grabbed Eleanor’s shoulder, ignoring her shudder. “You

need to take me to her RIGHT NOW.” Eleanor’s eyes widened as she tried to process what she’d just heard. “What - what are you

talking about?” “There’s this man...I think his name is Lothan Manolis...he’s from the Water Faction...I was

eavesdropping...not eavesdropping...spying, I’m a spy! Spying around I guess! Reading minds, look at me, so useful!” Ireland threw her hands up, clearly panicking. “I was just walking around, you know, doing my thing...there was a man talking about scallops for some reason? “

“Stop.” “And Lothan was talking about teenage girls...you can see why I’m worried right? He was

talking about Ruth from the Sanctuary, and I panicked…” “ Stop .” “I basically abandoned my post...my mentor almost killed me...my best friend is probably dead

or dying, and I’m in the woods, not doing anything to help your sister...I should be trying to help her...”

“STOP. Just...stop.” Ireland stopped, turning toward Eleanor. Her chest was heaving, and her face was �ushed.

Eleanor could see beads of sweat dripping down her face. “So what you’re saying is that Ruth is in danger either way?” Ireland nodded. Now Eleanor was on the edge of panicking. She took four deep breaths to calm herself down.

She’d left Ruth all alone and ran away without even thinking of any implications. She’d been so stupid. She didn’t deserve to live if she couldn’t even protect her own sister. “I need to go,” she whispered softly.


“What?” Ireland asked, face slowly coming back to her natural coloration. “I need to go back.” Eleanor said, grabbing her backpack and swinging it on her shoulder. “I’m going with you,” Ireland said, reaching out to grab Eleanor’s hand. “Ok, let’s go,” Eleanor said, turning toward the heart of the Sanctuary.


Chapter 35 Chenxue — We’ll Be Coming Round the Mountain When We Come

“They’re late,” Xialing said quietly. “We’re early,” Chenxue replied. The two stood at the edge of the town, waiting for Mika and

Roger. Xialing had packed enough food for the trip as well as a substantial amount of powder. Chenxue packed lightly, with only a backpack containing food, water, and bedding. On his hip was a sheathed sword, clearly a family heirloom repurposed for combat.“It feels better,” he said haltingly, “to not have Viper constantly over our heads. I mean, things are still dire, but part of me’s glad the deal’s o�.”

“Yeah,” Xialing said noncommittally. Chenxue’s head almost retreated into his shirt like a turtle at the subtle change in her tone.

“Was there…some other part of the deal that’s also fallen through?” Xialing shifted from one foot to another and grimaced. “It’s…my mom. She’s got a lung

disease. We’re trying to cure it, but it’s expensive as all hell.” “And the Snake Bay Pirates were going to pay well for the Battery.” “Pretty much.” Chenxue felt that same stomach dropping feeling from last night. “I’m sorry, I really messed

things up, didn’t I?” “It’s…don’t worry about it.” Chenxue gave a sti� smile. “Well, we could always try to get some reward from the government

after we hand the thing over.” Xialing laughed. “They’re just as likely to kill us to maintain con�dentiality. It’s nice thinking,

though.” She looked wistfully at the horizon. “I’m sorry.” “For what?” “I hesitated. Mika got hurt.” She smiled painfully. “I’m too weak to do anything right, huh?” “Don’t say that,” Chenxue said. “But why did you hesitate?” Xialing sighed heavily and sat down on the curbside. “I hated him for a long time. I hated the

work I did, and the people I hurt. But at the end of the day, Viper’s the only reason my mom’s still in her sickbed and not underground. And it seemed…it seemed like he cared. When the rest of the world didn’t, it really seemed like he was going to swoop in, to save me, as dreadful as he was. Every bottle of medication, every extra moment I got to spend with my mom, those are all things I owe to him. I felt…guilty, turning on him.”

Chenxue sco�ed. “He almost killed us.” “Exactly. And then I feel guilty for feeling guilty. It’s all a mess.” Chenxue sat down next to Xialing. “Well, regardless of what you owe him, he doesn’t get the

right to hurt you. No one has the right to do that.”


“...Do you trust me?” “With my life.” “I’ve made the wrong decision a lot of times.” “But you can still make the right decision next time,” Chenxue said. Xialing smiled and

lowered her gaze. Her view stopped at Chenxue’s gloves, which sat over his hands, normal, unmoving. A shapeshifting auxilifact. It matched Viper’s description almost exactly. But that would mean that Chenxue wasn’t…she opened her mouth to say something, but hesitated.

“So, this is what you look like outside of work,” Mika said as she approached. Her clothing was trendy but functional. Beside her was Roger Badger, also in hiking gear and sporting a large backpack with a cloth over a long, thin object.

He clicked the key to his car and gestured to the others. “Let’s get ourselves a Battery,” he said in a jovial tone.

The drive to Crawford’s Crag was over �ve hours, mostly over tall hills with taller trees. The sun shot through the evergreens in vivid rectangles as Roger’s old sedan made its way higher and higher up the roads. The four of them must have appeared as an especially odd family with a strange vacation destination. Mika and Xialing sat in the back poring over the topographical map of Crawford’s Crag.

“I think it’s safe to say that if there’s a dragon there, we’re going to be sneaking at all costs,” Xialing said to the front of the car without taking her eyes o� the route she was drawing in red marker.

“Oh god, of course. A dragon would vaporize us in an instant,” Chenxue said. “Well, I wouldn’t be so sure,” Roger said. “I mean, your darkness magic is e�ective, even

against dragon �re.” “Really?” “It’s magical in origin, isn’t it? I should warn you though, if the dragon does see us, it’ll be

most angry with you.” Roger glanced over to Chenxue brie�y. “Normal humans just possess no magic, but Darkness Mages possess that which actively undermines and destroys magic, the ‘anti-magic’, so to speak. You are the strongest counter to a dragon, and therefore its greatest enemy.”

“But, I mean, it’s still got its claws and teeth.” “Yes, that is true. I think it would be wise for us to take stock of our combined combat

potential, should the need arise. I already know that you are a Dark Mage, but what about you two?” Mika looked up from the map. “I’m a civilian Air Mage. Xialing’s practically a �ghting game

character.” Roger nodded to himself as Xialing pelted Mika with permanent markers. “Three Mages, not

bad. Stealing from a dragon is going to be no easy feat, especially if the Snake Bay Pirates are there too. We’re shooting to kill, understand?”

“No,” Xialing said �atly. Roger chuckled. “Look, I don’t know what you —” “Not up for negotiation,” Xialing said without looking up from the map. By the time they reached the base of Crawford’s Crag, Xialing had completed the route they

needed to take. They woke Mika up from her nap, and promptly began the climb upwards. Crawford’s


Crag could be deemed inhospitable by image alone. The multiple peaks jutted upwards like a serrated blade cutting at the blue skin of the sky. Within its own shadow, its outline resembled the maw of some terrible beast. The cli� faces were cold and unfeeling slate grey topped with stark, bleach white snow. The group made its way upward at as reasonable an angle as they could muster, but even still some sections inclined sharply. Mika and Chenxue were expectedly the weakest links of the group, but Chenxue looked in awe as Roger easily maneuvered the path, far more agile and athletic than someone of his age would normally be.

As they reached the middle, gaps began appearing in the mountain’s side, large gashes that seemed to be the scars of some demonic titan’s razor-sharp claws. Within the gaps one could see a complex combination of rock layers, collapsed walls, and skewed surfaces. It seemed more and more that Crawford’s Crag was simply the remnants of a mountain blown to bits, stacks of rock slabs. The explosion had been located at the mouth of the volcano, which was thankfully not at the very peak of the mountain. Previous eruptions had decimated the mountain so thoroughly that now the jagged peaks strutted far beyond the actual volcano originally responsible for their creation. They entered the main cavern that housed the mouth of the volcano, an atrium-like space with enormous pillars that erupted from the ground and hung from the ceiling. It was twilight now, and a purple sunset shone through the various holes and gaps in the sides of the cavern. Xialing stopped walking as she felt her heartbeat start to �uctuate. “What the hell?” she muttered under her breath. She felt like there were waves in the air, rocking her back and forth. There was some kind of energy in the air.

“Looks like a spy movie villain’s lair,” Mika commented. “Shhh,” Roger said as he dropped to a crouch. The other three did the same as they slowly

inched their way along the wall. As they got closer, Chenxue began to hear the sounds of footsteps and quiet voices.

“Looks like a spy movie villain’s lair,” Viper said as he rounded the corner with a small army of masked men. “I mean seriously, what’s up with those jagged peaks?”

Xialing swore under her breath. If the explosion at Crawford’s Crag had made it to the papers, of course it would have made its way to Viper as well. Viper lit an experimental �ame on his �nger, watching it breathe and pulse erratically. Xialing’s eyes widened as the �ame’s pulses matched perfectly with the ones she felt rocking her entire body. “We’ve got the right place, Lothan, trust me. I can practically feel its energy in the air.”

“Lothan?” Roger whispered incredulously. One of his eyes twitched with annoyance. “Who’s that?” Roger blinked and the expression was gone. “Lothan Manolis is the representative for the

Republic of Loch. Why are the Snake Bay Pirates working with a member of the Congress?” “Is he the third party?” Chenxue asked. “Whoever the third party is, we can’t trust the Congress anymore,” Roger said quickly and

�rmly. The four of them moved from wall to wall, hiding behind the slabs of stone that jutted out from the ground. Viper and his crew approached a discolored wall and paused.


“It’s a good hiding spot for sure,” Viper said with a drawl. “Lots of ‘walls’ that seem to be a consequence of random nature. Makes it pretty easy to hide a wall that you intentionally place.” He punched the discolored wall with a burst of �re, and the entire mountain seemed to shake.

“Look out!” Xialing exclaimed as a chunk of rock fell from the ceiling and nearly crushed them. Roger pushed the others ahead as they moved out of the way of a cascade of falling stalactites. They were in the open now, but Viper didn’t seem to notice, as he was focused on the slowly crumbling wall before him. As the burnt cracks began to spread like spider-webs through the odd wall, it crumbled and fell in steaming pieces. A good section of the cavern they were in came tumbling, but it soon became clear that the rumbling was no longer caused by the mountain.

Viper took several steps back, his head leaning further and further back as he looked higher and higher. The impacts became rhythmic and regular, no longer the creaks of an old and unstable mountain. With every boom of the ground, the rubble on the ground bounced up.

“Holy shit,” Chenxue murmured under his breath as his gloves instinctively turned into a cloak.

Roger grinned nervously. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.” The dragon before them towered far above, nearly two stories tall. Its long, serpentine body

was covered with translucent, sapphire blue scales, and its short legs �ashed with obsidian black claws. Two horns, seemingly carved from stone rather than keratin, twisted in spirals backwards and faded into a shock white mane that outlined the dragon’s snarling maw. As it moved, frost fell o� the sides of its frame, as if it had just been woken from a frozen slumber.

“Hey, Roger?” Mika asked timidly. “Do all dragons breathe �re?” With a bellowing roar, the dragon caused all the rubble on the ground to �y to the walls. It

arched its back and blasted out frozen air, and the world went white.


Chapter 36 Leopold — Mind Sweeper Ultimate Attack The Miami Royal jet touched down at the Seattle Interfactional Airport at 16:43 and 35

seconds. Leopold knew the time down to the second. He had spent the two-hour �ight from the Pyre Federation anxiously watching the three hands of his two-thousand-dollar Al Garmone wristwatch dance slow circles around the timepiece, breaking his intense concentration on the task only twice: once to check on Juan, the Mind spy who, unsurprisingly, still had rotating spirals in his eyes, and once to phone with Tatyanna Cardinale, Mind Faction’s chancellor. Tatyanna’s secretary had initially refused to put his call through to the chancellor, even after he had put Reginald on the line. The woman on the other end of the phone had only budged after Leopold had mentioned the spy. At that, the secretary had put him on hold, and when his line reconnected thirty seconds later, the voice on the other end of the chancellor’s.

Their conversation was short. At �rst, the ever-skeptical Tatyanna accused Leopold of having pushed the man into the Void, and when he refuted that, accused him of having kidnapped a Mind citizen in violation of the Peace Accords. Even after Leopold explained what had really happened, and Reginald had con�rmed that story, her voice remained suspicious, but she had nonetheless agreed to meet with Leopold to discuss the situation further. Leopold would wait until he saw her in person to ask whether she might have a means to communicate with Juan. It was a long shot, but scientists at the Class One Academy had been working on such a technology since he had been there nearly ten years ago.

The jet taxied to a private hangar, and Leopold, not wanting to waste another second, disembarked before the crew had even �nished securing the airstair. Tatyanna was already waiting for him. She looked out of place here, her immaculately-polished black heels in stark contrast to the cracked concrete �oor of the hangar, the bottom, silky frills of her purple robed gown blowing gently in the enormous empty chamber. Behind her were a collection of a dozen or so guards, but she was surprisingly without advisors.

“Prince Dazzle,” she spoke at him. Her voice was not loud, but it was pointed enough to overcome the loud drones of the slowing jet engine behind them and concise enough to pierce the hollowness of the room around her. Leopold stopped nearly ten feet from her, which felt like a safe distance. She was an intimidating woman, perhaps more so than even Wanda, though in a very di�erent way. Wanda seemed like a woman who could easily defeat any man in a �ght. But Leopold suspected that Tatyanna crushed her enemies long before they even knew a �ght was coming (or perhaps even knew that they were her enemies).

“Madam Chancellor,” he said back. “Is he on your jet?” Tatyanna wasted no time asking. Leopold nodded. “Then you will return

him to our custody?” She raised her eyebrows, turning that statement into a question. Leopold again nodded, and Tatyanna transferred that nod to her soldiers. A handful of them �led around her sides and marched past Leopold without paying him even a look.


Tatyanna tilted her head at Leopold. He met her eyes, and though they were deep (again, like Wanda’s), there seemed to be a force in them pushing outwards, blocking his gaze out. Leopold had experienced that once before with a professor at the Class One Academy. It meant she was a strong wielder.

A few moments later her soldiers returned with a stretcher, Juan strapped upon it �rmly. They had thrown a respirator over his mouth, but Leopold knew that it would make no di�erence. Once a Mind mage fell into the Void, they never came out. Reginald accompanied the crew, and gave Leopold a grateful farewell wave as he departed.

Leopold and Tatyana stood there a few moments longer in silence. Leopold half-expected her to turn around and leave at that. But she stayed, then �nally spoke,

“You’ve brought him here to see whether I might have a device that would allow you to interrogate him,” she said. Leopold laughed, but didn’t disagree.

“I thought the Academy considered it a great o�ense to read a diplomat’s mind,” he replied. She frowned.

“Don’t �atter yourself, Prince. It doesn’t take a mind reader to �gure out so much.” Leopold held his gaze, and she sighed. “I don’t have such a device.” Lorenzo �nally made it to Leopold’s side. His hair and suit were still a mess from the nap he

had taken on the plane, and dark, pu�y circles hung underneath his eyes like big bean-bag chairs. His two-day-old �ve o’clock shadow and crumpled tie didn’t help the look, and neither did the stained cardboard co�ee cup in his left hand. But his eyes, as they always did, dazzled.

“Madam Chancellor,” he crowed boisterously, and Tatyana tensed up, then nervously pulled at the corners of her dress. “You remember me, right? Lorenzo Dazzle , close-but-no-cigar-almost-the-heir-to-Kingdom-Miami Lorenzo Dazzle? You were at my graduation from the Class One Academy. And at the after-party at the Casa Blanca Casino, too. They warned me not to play poker with a bunch of mind readers, but I ended up cleaning house on those boys. You remember that?”

She narrowed her eyes. “I vaguely remember.” With that, Lorenzo laughed and lifted his co�ee cup in a triumphant toast, and some of the

co�ee inside spilled through the ill-fastened lid. “I don’t remember the details so well myself, if we’re being honest,” he said, then paused to take a sloppy sip of his drink. “But I’ll never forget how you made me feel .”

Leopold looked between the two with confusion, Lorenzo’s face beaming like an excited puppy’s, and Tatyanna’s a painting of poorly masked horror.

“Did you two…” Leopold began, but Tatyanna cut him o�. “Seeing that the device you seek does not exist, I kindly ask that you both leave the Neros

Institute.” She turned on a swivel, her entourage copying her actions a second after. She had gone only a few steps before Lorenzo got the better of her once again.


“Do you know how I beat those mind boys at the casino, Madam Chancellor?” At that, she stopped walking, but didn’t turn to face him. “You Mind folks never bother to learn how to hold a poker face. You do have the device.”

Thirty minutes later, Leopold and Lorenzo sat in the back of one of the chancellor’s many bullet-proof cars, en route to the Neros Center of Government. Tatyanna had opted to ride in the car in front of them, apparently uninterested in rehashing the past with Lorenzo.

“Did you really have sex with the chancellor when you were a student here?” he �nally asked his brother. Lorenzo sat opposite him, �ipping his coin to soft dings . He gave Leopold a coy grin.

“I wasn’t a student. I graduated that morning.” “Lorenzo, I’m being serious.” “ So am I .” He paused for a second, then dropped his grin and sighed. “But yeah, sort of.

Nothing extreme. But she spoke at commencement, and my valedictorian status entitled me to a private meeting…”

“I’ve heard enough,” Leopold said harshly. Lorenzo pocketed his coin and leaned forward. “You didn’t seem to have any issues with my promiscuity when it was buying you favors at the

Congress.” “It’s not your promiscuity that I take issue with,” Leopold replied lazily. “It’s your standards.

Tatyanna is like thirty years older than you, and a seven at best.” Lorenzo shrugged in a pout, and Leopold laughed. His brother smiled at that. Lorenzo said, “The �fties are a rough set of years for women, aren't they? Because three years

ago she was at least a nine. Dare I say a borderline ten.” He paused for a moment, reveling in his own wit, then said, “I’m still a bit unsure of our choice back there, leaving the fate of the Fire Battery to Yin and Yang, or whatever their names were.”

Leopold wasn’t sure, either. He had been asking himself that since they had left the two back in Fresno. They had seemed trustworthy enough, which in a time like this was a rare thing indeed, but he knew little of their judgement, which would ultimately be of much greater consequence.

“I think it was the right move,” Leopold lied to his brother. He had hoped the words would convince himself as well, but they only made him feel more unsure. He cleared his throat, then continued, “So long as they don’t go rogue. And besides, we have our contingencies. If they get the Battery, then we’ll get the Battery. Besides, it’s not like they’re being pursued. The only people who know they’re after it are either in this car, trapped in the Void, or dead.”

Lorenzo narrowed his eyes, apparently unsatis�ed with that explanation, but didn’t probe further. Instead, he changed topics.

“Are you sure that stopping this is even the right move?” Leopold’s head snapped back to his brother. “What do you mean?” “Well, this fucking lunatic is trying to collect the Batteries, right? And we know ours is locked

up safely in the Beacon, well out of his reach. If he’s trying to destroy them, and we just sort of, you know, let him, then Light Mages will be the only Mages left. That would make Kingdom Miami the


undisputed ruling faction, and our family the most powerful in the world by far. I understand why we’re doing this hands-around-the-world kumbaya bullshit, but isn’t our success on this mission to our own detriment?”

Leopold looked at his brother uneasily. He understood Lorenzo’s point, but it was a bit maniacal. But it was a fair point. Could they simply purge the other factions o� the face of the Earth? It wouldn’t even be that hard…

“We can decide what we want to do with the Batteries later,” Leopold said. “If we solve the case, then we get the culprit and the Batteries, and I’d rather they be in my hands than in theirs.”

Lorenzo nodded. “Alright.” “Besides,” Leopold continued. “How do you even know this fuckwad is trying to destroy the

Batteries? Maybe he’s collecting them to build a superweapon.” Lorenzo shrugged. “Just a hunch, I suppose.” Leopold looked out the window to distract himself from his brother’s skeptical gaze. There,

perhaps a mile in front of them, stood the Class One Academy. It was an enormous structure—at least ten times the size of Castle Miami — an entire campus of forty-�ve thousand students, including both their classrooms and living quarters, crammed inside the one building. Even at this far distance it appeared giant on the horizon. Leopold remembered touring it after high school; the Class One Academy was thirteen stories tall and contained more than 15,000 individual rooms. He had been inside countless times while he had studied there, but never lived in the dormitories (his father had insisted that he live in the family-owned penthouse in the Ford’s Tower in downtown Seattle). It was a maze of a building, a fantastic one, sort of like the Hogwarts castle, but more modern, and built in an art deco style.

They drove past the Academy, in the direction of the university’s administrative building which, since the Class One Academy was an institution of the federal state, also served as the Chancellor’s living quarters. That building was far smaller than the Academy, but still impressive, stretching out across a great lawn like the Palace of Versailles, an extraordinary garden with bright tulips and animal-shaped hedges and fountains hugging the drive to its main entrance, the dulled form of Mount Rainier towering far behind it. And, around it, a transparent rose-tinted dome, stretching from the left wing of the building to the right wing of the building in a high arch. The famous Nero's Dome. A force �eld.

A gap was allowed in the �eld to allow their limousine through. It gave Leopold a sense of gleeful pride — it was rare that anyone was allowed entry beneath the Neros Dome, let alone a foreigner. His classmates used to joke about it at the Academy. How do you know if you’ve made it in life? Well, if you ever find yourself standing under the Dome, that’s a pretty surefire indicator! they had always said. Even the sta� here was rumored to be an exclusive crowd, either the children of important diplomats or decorated NEST-F veterans who could double as guards.

A moment later, the vehicle halted in front of the building’s entrance. No servants came to help Leopold out of the limousine—he was sure Tatyanna had instructed the sta� to treat them as rudely as possible. That was �ne; he opened the door and stepped out himself, Lorenzo not far behind.


Tatyanna was already halfway up the great staircase leading to the building’s doors, �anked on either side by a guard. Leopold chased after her.

“We call the machine the Harmonic Encephalon Admission Device, or HEAD, for short,” she said through her brisk walk, not even wasting the second to turn and look at him.

“A convenient acronym,” Leopold mused. Tatyanna ignored the joke. “It’s still just a prototype. Top minds from the Academy have been working on HEAD for

years now, but we haven’t been able to test it.” They entered through the front doors. Inside, the palace looked like any other government building. The walls and �oor were made of a dull white marble, and a hallway stretched far in front of them, o�ces lining either side. Tatyanna led the way forward.

“Why haven’t you tested it?” Leopold asked, �nally catching up so that he could walk beside the Chancellor. She rolled her eyes.

“The Void is a �nicky place. A dangerous place. And once a Mind mage enters the Void, there’s no escaping it. HEAD doesn’t �x that problem.”

“So HEAD lets you into the Void but doesn’t let you out?” Lorenzo chimed in. “Couldn’t you achieve the same result by staring really hard at the wall for a few minutes?”

Again, Tatyanna refused to acknowledge the joke. “No,” she said. “HEAD allows us to access the same part of the Void as someone trapped there.

So, theoretically, you would be able to interact with them while in the Void.” “Still no use to us if once you’re in there’s no getting out,” Leopold muttered. “If you’re a Mind mage, there’s no getting out,” she said coyly. “But if you’re not a Mind

mage...” Now, �nally, Tatyanna smiled. “Well, we don’t know what would happen.” And it clicked for Leopold. “That’s why you allowed us in,” he said. “You intend to use us as guinea pigs for your

machine.” She shrugged. “Only one of you. I see no other options.” They �nally reached the end of the hall, then turned to the right. She led them down a maze of

short hallways, until �nally they stood before a wooden door, identical to the thousand others lining the halls of the building. Tatyanna drew a key from her pocket and unlocked the door, then invited the two princes in.

The room was much larger inside than it appeared from the outside. It was a large chamber, shaped like the interior of a great cathedral, a long tube with tall, arched ceilings. At the center of the room was an enormous platform, and hovering above it was a giant, wet, �oating brain. It was a horrible sight — the brain was at least as large as a milk truck, and attached to it was a collection of a million tubes and wires, which hung loosely from the thing and stretched high into the rafters above, where they met up with a myriad of complicated-looking, whirring machines. But the brain itself was the worst part. It was a �eshly salmon color, and it looked alive , pulsing rhythmically every few seconds like it had its own heartbeat, a hollow sloshing sound emanating from deep within it.


“The Mind Battery,” Lorenzo breathed beside him, and Leopold understood his brother’s realization immediately. He was looking at the Mind Faction’s battery.

“Yes, it is,” Tatyanna said beside them. She had �nally paused here, probably to give the two a few seconds to marvel at the weird form before them. “I’m grateful that I don’t have to justify the Batteries’ existence to you; we here in the Neros Institute are well aware that the Light Faction has that knowledge. And we know you keep yours in the Beacon.”

Leopold quietly cursed the NEST-F. It was no surprise that the Mind Faction had spies in Castle Miami, but who? They vetted everyone so carefully. Mind really did seem to know everything.

“Your Battery is…” Leopold searched for the right word “...large.” “The Battery is just a small component of what you see,” Tatyanna explained. “But frankly,

that’s none of your business. If times weren’t so desperate, we never would’ve allowed you to lay eyes on it.”

She brought them around the Battery. Leopold noticed Lorenzo stealthily crouching and swiping his hand underneath the brain, like he expected it to connect with some invisible platform, but he found only air there. The thing was just floating . Odd indeed.

At the back of the room was another door, and through it a smaller room, this one packed with rows of computers, most unattended. Behind the third row was a set of two reclined chairs, each bolted into a slightly elevated platform like something you might see at the dentist. Between them was a large rectangular computer box, a hundred blinking lights on its sides, and above it, a spherical, hollow glass orb, the air inside glowing a misty blue.

The Mind spy was already seated in the left chair, a series of electrodes and wires attached to his forehead, a beeping vitals monitor beside him. Tatyanna spun around and gave the brothers a curious look.

“I won’t waste any of our time explaining how it works,” she said sharply. “As I said, we’ve never tested it before, so I cannot guarantee that it’s safe. I can’t even guarantee that anything will happen at all.”

Lorenzo immediately stepped forward. “It’s worth a shot,” he said. “And it would be my honor to be the �rst non-Mind factioner to enter the Void.”

Leopold grabbed his brother’s shoulder and pulled him back. “Shut up,” he said. “I’m the one that’s going in. This was my idea, and I’ll be the one to see it

through.” Lorenzo moved to protest, but Leopold waved him o�. “Save your breath, brother. You aren’t going to win this debate.”

Lorenzo took that at face value and nodded his head nervously. Tatyanna hu�ed. “Are you sure you want to do this, Prince Leopold?” she asked. He nodded. “That spy may be the only living person to know who’s behind this whole Battery theft

business. We have to try to talk to him. It’s the only way.” Tatyanna slapped her hands together. “Then it’s settled.”


The process was simple, at least from Leopold’s end. He sat in the second chair, and tried his best to hold still as two technicians removed his sports jacket, vest, tie, and shirts, rubbed some sort of transparent jelly across his chest and forehead, and attached the electrodes to his body. Soon, he had his own beeping heart rate monitor next to him. He tried his best to tune out the mechanical beep...beep...beep . It reminded him of the room his father was in. The thought made him nervous, and his heart began to pound in his chest. The machine began to beep faster.

“HEAD is going to send an electric current through your brain to knock you unconscious,” Tatyanna told him. “The current will synchronize with one sent through the brain of our NEST-F agent, which will quite literally put you two on the same wavelength.”

Leopold attempted a weak smile. “Sounds simple. It’s a wonder it took you so long to develop this machine.”

She scowled, but continued. “After ten minutes, or if we notice anything wrong with your vitals, we’re going to cut that current and attempt to jolt you back awake. Again, there are no guarantees.”

Lorenzo laughed, then coughed, then laughed again, the whole bit sounding nervous to Leopold. “You’re going to be �ne,” he said in an unconvincing voice. His smile faltered. Leopold imagined he, too, was drawing similarities between this situation and their father’s.

“You can wait outside,” he told Lorenzo. “I don’t need you to watch this.” Lorenzo looked like he might make a joke, but didn’t. Instead, he approached Leopold, gave his

hand a �rm squeeze, then turned and left the room. “Don’t touch anything!” Tatyanna called after him. Then she turned back to Leopold. “Are

you ready?” He nodded, and she set her face �rm. “Then we wish you luck. In �ve...” A technician lowered a pair of headphones over Leopold’s ears, mu�ing the sounds around

him. “four…” With his sense of hearing so dulled, Leopold could smell things better, like the sense had

instantly ampli�ed itself to account for his handicapped position. And the room smelled of bleach and cough medicine and plastic, like a doctor’s o�ce.

“three…” Her counting synced almost perfectly with the beeping. He closed his eyes. “two…” He felt like at this point he should feel sleepy, or that his nervousness should fall away, but

neither happened. Instead, he felt sick to his stomach, like he might throw up, as the realization that this may be his �nal moment on this planet �nally struck him like a truck, a big, eighteen-wheeler truck, one clocking eight miles-per-hour heading north towards Saint Paul, only to �nd that everyone there was dead, rotted away, murdered in their own homes...

“one…”


Leopold waited for the shock to come. It never did. He could no longer hear the machine’s beeping, or Tatyanna’s counting, but instead heard a dull thumping noise, one that was so quiet he questioned whether the sound was just imagined. He opened his eyes.

He no longer sat in a small room packed full of computers. Tatyanna and the technicians were gone. Everything was gone. In front of him he saw nothing but a pure white realm, an empty expanse that stretched on in all directions, in�nitely. Total absence. The Void.

Leopold felt his heart rate pick up. He held out his hands in front of him to make sure that he was real, that he still existed in this plain of unreality, of nothingness. His hands were there, and that settled his nerves a bit. He stood up from his chair, which was the same HEAD chair from the Mind palace, now relocated here into the Void, and took a step forward. His footstep was a loud and crisp sound, unnatural, and echoed back to him from all sides with a rippling reverb. He took another step, and this one was much quieter. The next was quieter still. It made him feel dizzy and uncoordinated, and for a moment he nearly lost his balance, but he caught himself, and continued forward.

That’s when he noticed he was naked. The technicians had removed his shirt (that felt so long ago now), but now his suit pants and designer boxer shorts were gone, too, along with his socks and three-hundred dollar Armon-Drake dress shoes. For a moment he was humiliated, but then he remembered where he was. In the Void. Alone. No one could see him. Still, it felt uncomfortable to be so exposed, especially in a place like this, where nothing seemed to make sense. He checked behind him, and the chair was gone, vanished away into the whiteness. Now he stood truly amongst nothing. He shivered.

He continued forward again, and now his footsteps made no noise at all. He couldn’t feel the ground beneath his feet, which only disoriented him further, and he again nearly tripped. It was so quiet . He focused on the sound of his breathing, which was vaguely comforting to him, and in his e�orts began to detect that thumping sound again, a hollow, bubbly boof...pa...boof...pa...boof…pa. He sensed the sound was coming from his right, so he moved in that direction.

He walked and walked and walked. The sound got no louder, but still he felt like he was going in the right direction. When he became unnerved, he began humming Tampian nursery rhymes to himself, the ones his mother used to sing to him on stormy nights at Kingdom Miami, a silly little kid’s song.

Mr. Neighbor’s gotten thin He lost his son and lost his grin Got some new sores on his skin

But he’s got faith that we’ll soon win.

Ms. Neighbor’s got ol’ bare feet She wants something good to eat

But she’s not scared, she mustn't be We’re all safe behind our sheet.


Leopold hadn’t realized until he was much older that the song was about the Siege of Tampa Bay at the end of the Warring Times. He hadn’t been born then, but he had heard stories from his mother about the su�ering and pain brought on by the war, by the old king, Luther Gleam, refusal to sign the Peace Accords. Leopold was proud of his faction, and of its history, even with that smudge, but to be alive during those times, �ve months into the siege, when the situation had become so desperate that human bodies were burned to heat homes, that parents fed their starving children their own pet cats and dogs…

As he walked through the Void, he could almost feel the war raging around him. He could almost smell the smoke, hear the cries, taste blood in his own mouth. And he could hear his mother’s voice in his ear, whispering softly, Your father doesn’t know...It’s wrong what I did......We’ll keep this a secret, okay?

“I never told anyone,” Leopold responded, his throat dry, his voice raspy and quiet. “I promise. I wouldn’t.”

She said, I love you so much, Leo… Then she was singing again.

Mr. Neighbor’s gotten thin boof...pa...boof...pa...boof…pa

He lost his son and lost his grin boof...pa...boof...pa...boof…pa

Got some new sores on his skin boof...pa...boof...pa...boof…pa

But he’s got faith that we’ll soon win.

Leopold was sweating. That sound—it was so damned loud . It was echoing all around him, it was in his head, rattling inside his skull, like someone was pounding on a great big kettle drum with great big heavy mallets, right there in his brain .

He put his hands over his ears to stop the noise, but it only got louder, and so he pressed his ears as hard as he could, trying to squeeze that drum out of his head, so hard that his eyes forced themselves closed and tears came to his eyes.

And he recognized the sound; it wasn’t a drum, but a heartbeat, the same heartbeat he had heard in the palace, the noise from the pulsating, �oating brain, the Mind Battery, and he realized that the Void wasn’t just anywhere, but inside that brain, and he was inside that brain…

And it stopped. The quiet that followed was so absolute that it was almost more painful, but it wasn’t in his head, at least, and Leopold’s mind cleared itself almost instantly. He shivered again; this truly was a wretched, manipulative place. And Leopold opened his eyes.

In front of him sat the Mind Spy, also naked, in the chair from the lab. His eyes were open, unblinking, and he stared at Leopold. Or, rather, through Leopold, as if he weren’t even there. Leopold turned around to see what the man was really looking at. Behind him was the brain, in all its hideous,


grotesque glory, hovering magni�cently in the white space questioningly, as if it, too, was interested in hearing the conversation that would take place here, or perhaps simply interested in how Leopold had managed to arrive here in the Void at all. Leopold tried to ignore the thing, and instead turned his attention to the spy. He approached him carefully.

“Sir?” Leopold’s voice sounded �oaty and distant, delayed by a split second, as though the empty space was absorbing it up. “My name is Leopold Dazzle. Can you hear me?”

The spy didn’t react to Leopold’s voice. His eyes, which were open so wide that they looked like tiny dinner plates, remained �xed at the brain. Leopold took another step toward him.

“I know you were in the �ght at the bar,” Leopold said. “I know about your mission to in�ltrate the Snake Bay Pirates. To pretend to help search for the Fire Battery. To �nd out who’s really collecting the batteries.” Leopold took a �nal step, so that now he was beside the man in the bed, and leaned in close. “And I know you completed your mission. Tell me who it was.”

The spy didn’t move. Leopold started to prepare what he would say next. Perhaps the spy was really lost forever, trapped here in the Void, his mind nothing but pudding.

“Bada.” It was barely a whisper from the spy; the percussive pu�s of air forced their way through his paralyzed lips, and his gaze never broke away from the brain. “Baja,” he tried again, absently, his consciousness clearly somewhere else, somewhere far away, trapped, with this inkling of himself struggling to dig itself to the surface. Leopold leaned in closer.

“Try again,” he said. “Who is it?” “G–g–g–g.” The sound came out as a stutter, and the spy’s chest heaved a bit with each

attempt, and for a moment Leopold worried the man might start to spasm, and if that happened, what could he do here? Could someone die here? “G–guh–guh–h–r–re…”

“Grey?” Leopold �nished for him? “A Grey is doing this?” The man’s arm lifted shakily from his side, and it reached forward in front of him, his pointer

�nger extended. Leopold followed his �nger to the brain. At �rst, nothing seemed to have changed. But then Leopold noticed it. A shadow, an outline of

a human �gure, moving across the brain, and stopping in front of it. Leopold looked back at the spy, who was now shaking so much that drool was escaping his lips and rolling down his chin, and foam was starting to form at the corners of his mouth. Leopold’s own heart began to beat faster.

“What is that?” he asked the spy. “What’s happening there?” The spy’s hands shot out and grabbed Leopold’s wrists so suddenly that Leopold �inched, and

he tried to pull back from the man, but his grip was strong, too strong to escape. He turned his dinner-plate-wide eyes towards Leopold and �nally looked at him, and Leopold saw into his pupils, nearly fell into them, and they were just deep pits, lost forever.

“Roger Badger,” the spy said. “Roger Badger is taking the Batteries. He’s sent someone here. And you’re too late. ”

“Roger Badger? The Council of Grey guy?” “Soon he will have the Fire Battery. And the Mind Battery. And the Light Battery. And Life

will be all that’s left…”


The spy coughed, and his throat made a gurgling noise. Blood started to sputter out from his mouth, and coughed again, spraying it onto Leopold’s face. His arm fell back to the side, and Leopold stepped back, wiping the stu� from his eyes. He looked back to the brain. The shadow was still there, wavering back and forth, �dgeting with something.

And then the brain vanished. Leopold spun around. The spy was gone, too. And a harsh breeze, not made of wind but of tiny, invisible rays that pierced through Leopold’s body and made him shutter, ripped through the Void, and around him, in the far distance, the white nothingness began to collapse into black. Leopold looked around him in a circle, and in all directions, the space was decaying, falling away to reveal something his mind couldn’t quite comprehend, a room of bleak emptiness below the nothingness of the Void, and it was coming closer, rushing in on him from all sides…

Leopold shot up, panting, his thoughts a scrambled mess of pictures and sounds �ashing wildly through his consciousness, like his mind was trying to put back together a puzzle of what had happened in the Void. It came back to him in quick bursts, but he remembered the most important part. He remembered what the Mind spy had told him.

When he opened his eyes, Tatyanna was already on her feet in front of him, pacing back and forth, her eyes glittering with a high level of curiosity. And Leopold felt the weight of the world—the real world—fall back onto him, and it was such a strong rush that he collapsed back into his chair. The air tasted fresh and clean, so he inhaled deeply, sucking in as much of it as possible.

“Were you there, in the Void?” Tatyanna asked him. “Yes,” Leopold managed to croak out between labored breaths. “Did you �nd our spy there?” “He…” Leopold stopped. He remembered the shadow, that �gure on the brain in the Void.

He’s sent someone here . Leopold pushed himself up and tried to stand, but his legs were wobbly, and he immediately collapsed. In a moment, the technicians were on his sides, their shoulders in his armpits, pulling him back to his feet. One pulled his white t-shirt back over his neck, and Leopold forced his arms through the sleeves.

“He’s here,” Leopold spat out, and Tatyanna’s eyebrows went up. “He’s coming for the Battery.”

Leopold managed to free himself of the technicians’ hands, and he stumbled forward, this time staying on his feet with support from a nearby table, and he limped forward quickly, Tatyanna not far behind.

“Impossible,” she said. “The Mind Dome is unbreachable. There’s no safer building on the continent.”

Leopold ignored her, his eyes �xed on the door to the main chamber, where the real �oating brain was fastened. The real Battery. He reached the door, and pulled it open.

His �rst step into the chamber was disastrous. His foot caught on something, and he fell forward. He hit the ground hard, the fronts of his forearms bearing most of the impact, and rolled


over. He looked back—what he had tripped over was a body, a well-dressed one, in a light yellow suit and white vest, a curly mess of blond hair up above. Lorenzo .

For a moment Leopold thought his brother was dead, but then he groaned and clutched his chest. “Ouch,” he said in a pained voice.

Leopold climbed back to his feet, his strength �nally returning. In front of the brain stood a woman of (Leopold noted immediately) dashing form. She was tall and thin, with short, white hair and tattoos running the length of her arms, all the way to her shoulders, where they were lost under her blouse. There was only one part of the out�t that didn’t �t: what appeared to be metal gauntlets covered her hands and forearms. They shone with electricity and continued the designs that were tattooed into her arms. Not tattoos—ink conduits. A Storm Mage.

And in her hand was a strange device, a blunderbuss-type weapon with a stubby barrel and a disc-shaped platform resting underneath. In her other hand was a hard mass of pink �esh, shaped sort of like one of the discarded turkey necks that the chefs in Castle Miami would feed to the hounds. The brain was no longer humming or pulsating: it was still and quiet in a way that now seemed even less natural than its normal state. The short-haired woman looked surprised to see them. And Leopold only now noticed the bodies littered across the hall. The guards.

“Who the hell are you?” Tatyanna asked, joining Leopold’s side. The woman tilted her head. “A thief,” she replied simply. “You work for Roger Badger,” Leopold threw back, and her con�dence stuttered, if only for a

moment. “So the cat’s out of the bag, huh? Oh well, getting my mind read was a possibility here.” she

replied coolly, and Leopold sco�ed. “We didn’t need to read your mind to discover that.” The room was quiet for a moment as the Storm Mage tried to process what Leopold had said.

Then the door on the far end of the chamber opened. Six more guards rushed in and fanned out across the back of the room, drawing weapons and aiming them at her. She smiled.

Have them shoot her, Leopold thought loudly in his head, hoping that Tatyanna might hear him.

We can’t risk it—she’s in front of the brain , a voice whispered back into his own mind. Well, shit, was his response. “I feel your energy,” the storm mage said, breaking his concentration. “Your poison, seeping

into my mind. Try to manipulate my thoughts. I dare you.” “You don’t have any idea what power you’re dealing with,” Tatyanna said sharply. “If you hand

over the battery now, then you may never have to experience that power.” The Storm Mage grinned. “A generous o�er for most, I’m sure. But I have other plans.” She

took the battery and set it into the platform on her weapon. And Leopold noticed, a second too late, another feature of the weapon: a small cube, blacker than night, embedded beneath the barrel. He had never seen the thing before, but he knew instantly what it was. The Darkness Battery.

The storm mage pulled the trigger.


Leopold �inched, expecting something horrible, like his atoms to be torn apart piece by piece, or for his skin to rot and decay as had happened to the poor souls in Saint Paul. But he felt nothing—not a burst of power, or pain, or even a disturbance in the force around him. The others weren’t so lucky.

The guards began to scream, and one by one fell to their knees, clutching their heads like they expected them to explode. Tatyanna, too, collapsed to the �oor in a �t of screaming and pain. Leopold rushed to her side.

“Madam Chancellor?” He pulled her o� the �oor and into his arms. “What is this?” “The... Battery ,” was all she managed before her eyes went glossy and began to swirl. She was in

the Void. From the lack of screaming in the room, Leopold could only guess that the same had happened to the others.

Leopold pulled himself back to his feet, his legs shaky, his heart pounding. He looked to the Storm Mage.

“Who are you? ” he asked, his voice shaking nearly as badly as his knees. She looked surprised to see him.

“Ah, you must be Prince Dazzle,” she said. “I heard a rumor you might be here. Explains why the Mind Battery didn’t work on you.”

“Who are you? ” he repeated, and she shrugged. “I suppose there’s no harm in telling you now. My name is Centari Luna.” “Never heard of you.” Leopold’s voice broke on the sarcasm, betraying his true emotions. He

cursed himself for it. “That’s because I’m good at what I do.” “And what’s that? Being a henchman? A cronie?” “I prefer the term hench woman , but you’ve got the idea.” Lorenzo groaned on the �oor beside Leopold, rolled over, and �nally found his way to his feet.

He looked around, his eyes narrowed with a combination of confusion and suspicion. “You must also be Prince Dazzle,” Centari said. “I apologize for the concussion.” “Are we done quipping at each other?” Leopold growled. He gestured to the room around

him. “What did you do here?” “You’re a smart boy. Figure it out.” Apparently we’re not done with the quipping . But that was okay. Leopold could go at this all

day. He nodded. “You �atter me, but you’re right. You used the Darkness Battery and Mind Battery together to force all the mind mages in this building into the Void. Destroy the leadership, cripple the faction, huh? Was that the plan?”

“Close, but not quite. You’re wrong on two fronts. One, about the range.” She paused to let that sink in. “I haven’t forced the Mind Mages in this building into the Void. I’ve forced the mind mages in the greater Paci�c Northwest into their Void.”


That sentence hurt Leopold, and hurt him bad. If she was telling the truth—and why would she lie?—that meant another faction gone, decimated. Thankfully, and to his credit, he kept a neutral face.

“What’s the second front?” Lorenzo asked beside him, and Centari silenced him with a series of condescending shushes.

“We’ll get to that in a moment. But �rst, I want to o�er my sincerest apologies for murdering your �ancé, Prince Dazzle.” Leopold clenched his �sts at his sides—not because he particularly cared for Edna, but because this woman, Centari, and her boss, Roger Badger (the disgusting, pitiful cheerleader of the drubes, little more than the punchline to a borderline-racist, in-poor-taste joke told by a bartender in a shitty Miami bar), had dared challenge the authority of the factions, of his faction, him and his family. And they had won —twice!

“I want you to know that it was nothing personal,” Centari continued. “Just like this here—nothing personal. It’s unfortunate that so many must die. But it’s all necessary for us to —”

“Spare me the monologue,” Leopold spit. “I don’t care much for motives.” She shrugged. “It’s all the same to me.” She �icked a second hammer back on her weapon, and

pointed it toward the sky. She pulled the trigger. At �rst, nothing happened. Leopold looked around, suspicious. Then, a movement. In the far

corner of the room, a guard began to stir. Then another. And another. They pulled themselves to their feet slowly, all silent, like in a dream. Leopold’s heart thumped in his chest. Then, on the �oor next to him, Tatyanna shook. She rolled from her back and onto her knees, then lifted herself from the ground. And Leopold �nally understood when he saw that her eyes still swirled. She was still in the Void. They all were.

He turned back to Centari. She smirked at him. “You bitch,” he hu�ed, his tone exhausted, betraying that he knew what was next to come. The

insult didn’t seem to bother Centari at all. She held her weapon up to her mouth, and in a singsong voice, whispered a simple command into it.

“Kill Prince Leopold Dazzle.” Time moved slowly for Leopold. He saw all the eyes in the room, those absent, spiraling things,

turn to him. And he heard his father’s voice in his head, repeating the �rst lesson he had ever taught his son, the most important lesson, and one to which Leopold had been faithful to until this moment. You only wield when absolutely necessary . He had never once wielded outside of the tall walls of Castle Miami, never used his powers to �ght outside of brief training skirmishes, never to defend himself when provoked. It had never been absolutely necessary. Until right now.

Leopold thought of his father now, of his great history and conquests, and of how he was the son of that man. His heir. His legacy. His chest began to swell with a familiar pride (as most of the other faction leaders saw it, unearned pride, or even undue pride, the bastards), and he forced that emotion into a tight ball of light behind his breast. He released the supercharged energy from that ball slowly through his arms and let it collect in his hands, then forced them forward, throwing out a shield


of yellow light in front of him and his brother. It didn’t come a second too soon. A second after the screen went up, bullets began ricocheting o� of it.

The room was alight with blinding muzzle �ashes, and the noise was deafening, each gunshot echoing a thousand times o� the high ceiling and smooth walls. Beside him, Lorenzo used his own light screen to throw a possessed Tatyanna to the other side of the room, then to smack guards from their feet. Leopold saw the entrance to the chamber �y open from its hinges. More guards rushed into the room and began �ring at him. And more kept �ling in. Lorenzo and him couldn’t �ght them all o�. He turned to his brother.

“Go back!” he yelled, his voice nearly lost in the commotion. He kept his hands up, supporting his shield, and walked backwards towards the HEAD room. “Get in there!” he yelled, and Lorenzo followed his orders. Leopold wasn’t far behind him. Once he was past the threshold of the door, Lorenzo slammed it shut, and Leopold felt his shield outside fall away. Lorenzo threw up a new one over the closed door as the guards outside began to pound at it, shoot at it.

“Is this room a dead end?” Lorenzo yelled at him. “It better fucking not be,” Leopold replied, his voice a panic. “Hold them o� while I look for a

way out of here.” Leopold ran past the rows of computers. The back of the room was , in fact, a dead end. He ran

to check the other side. Juan was still strapped into the HEAD chair, but he, like the others outside, was totally freaking out, struggling to break himself free of his restraints. Leopold swiveled the other direction to see —

The blow came out of nowhere. The technician’s �st connected with his jaw, sending stars to his eyes. But he had lost the element of surprise. Leopold easily sidestepped the technician’s next punch, then pulled a light from his chest to his �st and returned the punch. The technician went �ying across the room, crashing into a row of computers. Leopold remembered that there had been two technicians, and looked around him for the second one, who emerged right behind him. He, too, was easily defeated – Leopold summoned a tiny, denser light shield in front of him and smashed it into the man’s face, knocking him out cold (and probably breaking his nose).

Then he saw it—on the far side of the room was another door. “Lorenzo, this way!” he yelled. He ran to the door and threw it open, then ran out. Straight

into another person. The collision took them both by surprise, and they both fell to the �oor. Leopold pulled more power into his �st, and prepared to �ght, but he was slower than this other person. He felt strong hands grip the silk of his undershirt beneath his shoulders, and he was yanked from the ground. His legs dangled uselessly underneath him, and his arms were pinned to his sides.

The person—a man, apparently—lifted him so that they were face-to-face, Leopold’s nose only a few inches from his. Leopold brie�y considered attempting a headbutt, but something told him the move would do him signi�cantly more harm than his attacker, a dark haired, gru� looking fellow. A fellow with normal, non-spiraling eyes.

“Who the hell are you?” he asked. They had no time for this game. “Leopold Dazzle,” he answered promptly. “And you?”


The man considered, then conceded, “Cyrus.” ̀ “Well, Cyrus, are you one of Centari’s goons?”

He narrowed his eyes seriously. “She’s already here?” “So you’re not with her?” “Not even close. Did she get to the Battery?” Cyrus’s eyes looked past Leopold towards his

brother, who held a powerful light shield against the encroaching soldiers. “Yeah. Didn’t you feel the pulse?” “Blast it all.” Cyrus practically threw Leopold down to the �oor, but he was undamaged. “I recommend we get out of here. Now.” “I’d rather not �ght an army of mind-readers, yes.” Cyrus beckoned Leopold to follow him.

“We can get out the way I came in.” Leopold nodded in agreement, and then turned back to the open door. “Lorenzo, now!” Leopold heard the distinct sound of the light shield falling away, then his brother’s footsteps.

He waited until he saw Lorenzo get out of the room and into the hall, then began running, Lorenzo and Cyrus not far behind.

“Let me take the lead. I know the way,” Cyrus called out. “Yeah. Sounds like a plan!” Leopold replied through exhausted hu�s (he was really out of

shape, despite his twice-a-week muscle workouts, though that was admittedly more a vanity project than a �tness one).

Leopold was happy to give the lead to Cyrus. He allowed the rogue-looking fellow to overtake him, which didn’t seem to be a di�cult feat for Cyrus at all, then kept pace behind him. Far behind them, gunshots began to ring out again. Leopold saw a bullet ricochet o� the marble crowning on the ceiling in front of him, spraying stone crumbs into his face, then felt one buzz by his ear. But then the noise dulled the smallest amount, and Leopold heard a familiar sound—the whop whop whop s of bullets bouncing o� a light shield. He swung around.

Behind him, Lorenzo had stopped running and thrown up another shield, this one spanning the length of the hall, from �oor to ceiling. Leopold braked himself.

“Lorenzo, what are you doing?” His brother swung his head around and met his eyes. “Keep going! I’ll meet up with you later!” Leopold shook his head, his mind swimming, emotions lost in a mixture of incredulousness

and utter terror. “No way!” he yelled back. “You’re being ridiculous. If you stay here, you’ll die!” Lorenzo �ashed him a smile. “If I don’t, we all do, and at least this way I get to be the hero! Warn father about Roger

Badger! Before it’s too late!” Lorenzo was right. Damn it. He was right . Someone had to tell the others who was behind this,

and stop it...if it wasn’t already too late. Fuck! Leopold bit his bottom lip so hard that it drew blood, his head swiveling up and down the hallway, from where Cyrus had stopped to where Lorenzo was


holding the line, and he made a decision. He turned and ran. Behind him, Lorenzo let out a triumphant laugh.


Chapter 37 Eleanor — Bloodshed Eleanor sprinted as quickly as her legs could take her; she needed to get away from everyone

and anything, in case her powers decided to explode in the air unexpectedly again. “Ok, let’s go,” Eleanor said, as they headed toward the heart of the Sanctuary. “What's life like in the cult?” Ireland asked with a smirk on her face as they came upon a little

stream. “Is that a trick question?” Eleanor pushed her canteen under the stream of water. “I don’t know, is there a trick answer?” “Life itself is a bag of nothing but rocks.” “At least rocks don’t die,” Ireland added pensively, suddenly sombering in mood. Eleanor’s hands shook, causing her canteen to fall. She bent down to grab it when she felt the blood

within her veins turn cold. A string of blue light shot out from her fingertips. “E-Eleanor, what’s going on? I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to make you panic! I was just making an

inappropriate joke!” “I..I don’t know…” More shot out in several directions. “Eleanor?” Ireland reached out to place a steadying hand on Eleanor’s shoulder, when suddenly… “Oh god!” Ireland screamed in pain, collapsing on the ground. When one of the blue lights swept

its way to Ireland, her wound from the fight with the other spies opened up. There was scarlet blood pooling around her fingertips as she tried to stop the bleeding.

“WHAT HAVE I DONE?” Eleanor screamed, trying to stop the bleeding.But to no avail, it continued to pour out of Ireland like molten lava. So she did the only thing she knew how to do best: run.

“Wait, Eleanor, don’t go!” Ireland screamed, holding up her hand, which was completely covered in her own blood. “Don’t leave me like this!”

Eleanor continued running. Eleanor tried not to think about the fact that she’d left Ireland to bleed to death on the forest

�oor. She came to a halting stop as her legs �nally gave out. She would rest here for a bit and collect her thoughts. Why had she lost control? She hadn’t lost control since the �rst time her mother got drunk. And why now? She sat on a large rock, playing with the moss that covered it.

She’d always strived to be the best version of herself and right now, she wasn’t that girl. She was sin, all wrapped up in a bottle. She should be with Ireland right now, instead of doing whatever it was she was doing at the moment.

Eleanor set foot into the clearing where she’d left Ireland and immediately spotted her laying in a crumpled heap on the ground. She looked pale and completely unconscious. Eleanor ran over and gasped. The blood was still dripping out of the wound, and Ireland’s skin was cold and clammy to the touch.


Eleanor reached out two �ngers to Ireland’s carotid artery. She held her breath and continued the beats of Ireland’s heart. 1..2...3...4...5… Eleanor counted up to 30 in one minute. Good, she’s still alive.

She put both of her palms on top of Ireland’s chest and closed her eyes. Warmth immediately �ooded her veins and found its way down to the wound. Blood started to crawl back through the opening just as quickly as it poured out. After a minute, Ireland’s eyelids �uttered open.

“I knew you’d come back,” Ireland said softly, reaching up to entwine her �ngers into Eleanor’s hair.

“You have way too much faith in me,” Eleanor said, her lips twisting upward into a lopsided smile.

“Yeah, probably,” Ireland laughed. “Are you going to come down here or am I going to have to get up there?”

Eleanor punched her arm lightly and extended a hand out and pulled her up. “I’m sorry...for running. Just got scared, is all.”

“We all get scared, don’t worry. Just don’t go around opening holes in my body again,” Ireland said, slinging an arm over Eleanor’s shoulder. “Should we go �nd your sister?”

Eleanor gulped and then slowly pushed Ireland’s arm o�. “I’m going. You’re not.” “Seriously? I can read minds, this will go a lot faster if you let me tag along.” “I’ll just hurt you again. It’s just a matter of time.” She made a move to leave the clearing. Ireland grabbed her wrist. “Look, we can �gure out what triggered it. It was my mention of death wasn’t it? We can just

make sure to avoid your triggers. Also, you were clearly able to contain and control your ‘power surge’ back there and heal me. Together, we can �gure out why it happened, and how you �xed it. But you storming o� and playing the martyr isn’t going to �x anything.”

Eleanor opened her mouth to protest but all that came out of her mouth was “I know. But whatever this is, I can’t be a part of it.” She pointed between them to show their strange relationship.

Ireland paused for a moment. Eleanor was sure that Ireland was going to throw a �t, labeling all of the reasons why they should stay together. But all Ireland said was “I agree.”

“What?” Eleanor said in shock. “As spies, it’s not a good idea to get attached,” Ireland explained. “You never know when you

have to seduce a target, and it just makes things messy. Also, you never know when somebody catches wind of your identity, and I could never put someone I care about in danger.” Ireland paused for a moment. Her eyes met Eleanor’s, and she could see a myriad of pain behind them.

“My parents were in love once, and they were found out by the wrong people and manipulated into doing something terrible.”

“I’m sorry about your parents.” Even though her mother wasn’t a very good parent, Eleanor couldn’t imagine losing her. “I don’t think I’ll ever be ready for a relationship.”

Ireland shrugged, wiping at her eyes. “That’s quite alright. We have more important matters to attend to, anyway.” Ireland started to walk toward the tree again.


“Besides, I always have a long list of people willing to be with me, seeing as I am the top spy of the year at the Nero’s Institute.” Even though Ireland was turned away, Eleanor could hear the tears in her voice.

Eleanor scrambled after her. “Wait! I — ” She stopped mid-sentence as Ireland’s eyes met her once again. “I w-want to, I do...it’s just that...I’ve never really believed in love and have never done...that with anyone...but you.”

Ireland’s face tightened but turned away. “Let’s go �nd your sister so she has the same luxury of choosing her �rst partner. We’ve wasted

enough time already.” Eleanor felt like her body had been stabbed by a bunch of needle pricks. “I’ll lead the way.”


Chapter 38 Chenxue — Holy Shit, it’s a Goddamn Dragon Chenxue pulled down the cloak when the blasts of air had �nished, and Xialing, Mika, and

Roger cautiously rose. Despite nullifying most of the frost magic, the cloth was still covered in frost and made cracking noises as it shifted. The stone interior of the cavern had been transformed instantly into an icy hellscape. Spikes of ice stood horizontally from the stone pillars, like the shockwave of an explosion frozen in time.

The dragon glided into the cavern, its body easily taking up most of the room. “A Darkness mage, hmm?” his voice boomed throughout the cavern, shaking the very icicles that he had created. “I am Hvild, the Sleeping Demise. What is your purpose here?”

Chenxue looked to Xialing in a panic, but she only nodded supportively to him. “W-we are here for the Fire Battery.”

As soon as Chenxue had �nished his sentence, Hvild snaked around the air and lunged, his face stopping mere feet from Chenxue’s. “It has been centuries since someone has divined my location. I had long promised to protect this artifact with my life. Hear me now. Abandon your lust for this power that you know not of, and I may yet spare your life.”

“We need it to protect it from falling into the wrong hands. Someone is collecting these batteries, someone looking to destroy civilization itself,” Chenxue said as calmly as he could.

Hvild snarled. “There are no worthy hands. Not among you humans, nor the institutions you keep your faith in. Not even among the ancient beasts.” Hvild’s gaze turned sorrowful.

“Not even among dragons?” Chenxue asked gently. Hvild sco�ed, unintentionally sending a chilled blast of air. “Why else would a dragon of frost

be safeguarding an artifact of �re? It’s of no use in my possession, which is exactly why it must be in my possession.”

“Then the explosions, the eruptions …” Xialing murmured to herself. “All the power of the artifact leaking out, bursting through even the strongest magic of a

dragon. This is the power of the artifact you seek, a power beyond humans, beyond dragons. All life is doomed to meet its end through magic.”

“We can bring an end to all of it!” Roger spoke in a surprisingly passionate voice, pushing past Chenxue. “We can end all of it.”

Xialing frowned and opened her mouth to ask a question when the sound of sizzling water and cracking ice could be heard. Viper emerged from the cocoon of ice that had trapped him, shaking but alive. “A real dragon. I thought you losers had been wiped out long ago.”

“You would dare speak with such insolence to a being so greater than you?” Hvild asked, rising to his full height and turning away from Roger.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Viper snarled. “It was humans who wiped you guys out in the �rst place.” The masked men behind him, also melted free of their prisons, joined Viper as they launched an enormous ball of �re towards Hvild. The dragon twisted in the air, but not quickly enough as the �re


caught him in the side. With a roar of pain, the dragon was blasted against the wall, and the sound of crunching scales could be heard. The intensity of the heat vaporized what frost was left on Chenxue’s cloak, and the ground began to slowly melt.

“Your greed shall be your downfall,” Hvild said with a booming voice. He lunged like a snake, blindingly fast and �uid, and nearly caught one of Viper’s henchmen within his jaws.

“I think we should leave,” Xialing said as the cavern began to shake again. “We’re not leaving without that Battery,” Roger said through gritted teeth. He reached into his

backpack and took o� the cloth, revealing a long hunting ri�e. On its wooden sides were strange carvings that pulsated electric yellow. From the carvings were black lines that stretched backwards towards the chamber like a Storm mage’s ink conduits. He withdrew the ri�e, pulled back the bolt and shot at the dragon’s head. Lightning arced from the gun barrel, twisting and forking in the wake of the bullet.

Hvild jerked instinctively, but not fast enough. The bullet tore through his body and splattered blood on the cave wall as bolts of lightning bloomed outwards in a macabre �ower. As large as he was, even Hvild could not prevent himself from collapsing to the ground as the electricity tore through his nerves. Hvild roared in anger and sent another blast of chilled air. It rocketed across the ground, catching Viper’s foot as he tried to jump out of the way and freezing it solid.

“Shit!” Viper shouted as he withdrew some small ball bearings from his backpack. He threw them at Hvild’s face as he came in for another attack, and one by one they seemed to light up from within.

“We’ve gotta stop them at least,” Mika said as she carved two slices of air, which �ew with greater accuracy than last night. They rushed forward and knocked some of the ball bearings out of the air as the remaining ones detonated into bulging orbs of �re.

Hvild roared again and tore through the black smoke, spiraling through the air as he tried to put out the �re that singed his scales. As he �ailed in pain, multiple stalactites, larger than before, came crashing down, punching holes in the ground and revealing the black pool of molten rock that waited just below.

“We’re all going to die,” Xialing muttered to herself as she ran forward, followed closely by Mika. Chenxue withdrew his sword and let a small thread wrap around the handle.

The other masked men rushed in to protect their leader, sending blasts of �re at Hvild, giving him no chance to reorient himself. Viper saw Xialing approaching as he �nished melting the ice o� his leg. “Fancy meeting you here!” he shouted almost gleefully from the sheer adrenaline pumping through his veins. Xialing shot three of her signature �re arrows, which each narrowly missed Viper as he slithered from place to place. Viper blew on a handful of black powder, causing the familiar acrid smoke to billow forward, obscuring everyone’s vision.

“Goddamn it,” Xialing muttered. The smoke pricked at her eyes, causing them to sting and burn. From nowhere, a blast of �re struck her squarely in the chest, sending her �ying backwards.

Hvild snarled as he twisted in the air, each time getting hit by a stray �re bolt that singed his scales and burned his skin. The dragon felt his back brush against the wall of the cavern as the pirates


pushed him farther, and he saw his blood continue to pour out onto the cave �oor. The black smoke covered the ground, obscuring his attackers and forcing him to shoot blindly into the smog.

Mika stood near the center of the smoke. She reached in her bag and put on an industrial looking paint respirator. She closed her eyes and thought back to her high school days, spent on the football �elds long after school had ended.

“Like this?” “Right, just like that. Now, breathe, slowly and steadily.” She could almost feel those hands gently holding her arms, feel her skin being gently brushed

by hers, the wispy sound of her exhaled breath, so close to her ear. “You call that steady breathing?” “It’s kinda hard to focus with you so close.” She pecked her on the cheek with a kiss. “I’m just making sure that you don’t accidently slice the

bleachers in half. Now, clear your mind, focus on something that makes you feel peaceful and calm. Maybe a burbling brook, or a beach sunset.”

Something that made her feel calm? There was only one thing, one obvious thing. Mika breathed in deeply, drowned out the chaos of the mountain battle�eld, and �lled her mind with one thought, the same thought that had always brought her peace in high school. A gentle, but insistent breeze slowly expanded from her, growing larger and stronger as it rippled from the epicenter. The smog was lifted in swirling vortexes, being blown away, out the holes in the sides of the mountain.

“Mika?” Xialing said incredulously from the ground as the view cleared. The sphere of air kept expanding, 50 meters in diameter, now 75, now 100. It �lled the enormous room and slowly ended when no smoke was left.

“How’s that?” Panting breaths, exhausted but excited. “That was incredible, Mika!” Wanda exclaimed, looking around in amazement as the gentle

breeze that had burst from Mika kept expanding outward, pushing down the blades of grass. “I’ve never seen you so focused when wielding before. What were you thinking about?”

Mika tackled Wanda to the grass, giggling. “I thought of you, dummy.” “Nice work, Mika!” Mika was brought out of her trance by the sounds of combat continuing. Xialing and Chenxue

had regrouped at her, their eyes locked on Viper. “We need to get that Battery,” Roger growled, his gaze �xed �rmly on the dragon as he reloaded

his ri�e. Two more bullets �ew through the air, both hitting their mark. Hvild snarled in pain and opened his jaw to rain down needle sharp icicles. Roger rolled behind

Chenxue, who let his jacket billow forward like a matador’s cape. Each icicle that hit the cape seemed to lose all momentum instantly and turned into a harmless �ne powder.

“YOU!” Hvild roared, now more furious than he had ever been. With dizzying speed, he cascaded downward and launched himself at Chenxue with the force of a bullet train, knocking down some of Viper’s men as he passed. The others dove to either side, but Chenxue stayed where he was, throwing his sword to the side, where it stuck into the ground. In moments, Hvild was in front of


Chenxue, his open jaw revealing rows of curved teeth and several razor-sharp fangs. He bit down �ercely, but Chenxue was pulled to the left suddenly, narrowly avoiding the teeth that came together with a thunderous crash. Hvild looked to Chenxue in bewilderment, who had now reached where he had planted his sword. The thread in his hand �nished shrinking, and he pulled the sword out of the rock.

“I don’t want to �ght!” Chenxue shouted at Hvild. Viper launched another �reball at Hvild, which Chenxue quickly absorbed with another �ourish of his cloth. From beneath his cloak, Xialing burst forward, like a rabbit from a top hat, her hand clothed in �re.

“Really, after everything I’ve done for you?” Viper snarled as the thrust narrowly missed his face.

“Yes, especially after everything you’ve done to me!” Xialing shouted, continuing her assault. The masked men prepared another barrage for Hvild when a sword �ew through their �re,

breaking their concentration. “Keep your eyes on me,” Chenxue said, zipping to the location of his sword with another pull of the thread. The masked men each tried to light Chenxue a�ame, but the cloth expanded and retracted with disturbing speed, like watching a monstrously large jelly�sh’s hood. He spun on the spot quickly, letting the thread tied to the sword handle wrap around him in spirals, and then retracted the thread quickly, causing the blade to revolve around him, slicing his opponents as the thread shrank.

Hvild snarled. The fact that the boy was extremely pro�cient with Darkness magic irritated him to no end, but in the end, he knew he had little chance against so many enemies, especially at his age. “Boy!” he roared.

Chenxue had only just turned around when Hvild was already barreling down towards him. Re�exively, he threw his sword to the ceiling as hard as he could, and as soon as he felt the blade sink into the stone, he retracted the thread, pulling him upwards and out of the way of Hvild. As Hvild approached, one eye looked at Chenxue intensely. Furious, but trusting. Did he mean…

“Come on!” Viper taunted as he narrowly ducked under another blade of air from Mika. Xialing and Mika continued to push Viper backwards, their attacks in a rhythmic sync.

“Watch out!” Chenxue screamed. Xialing and Mika turned to see Chenxue desperately holding onto Hvild’s mane as the two soared forwards.

Viper exclaimed in surprise as he shoved one of the other men in the way of Hvild. With a nasty crunch, the man was crushed in Hvild’s jaws.

“Give it up, unless you want to �ght a dragon on your own,” Mika said. “Tch, as if,” Viper hissed. He put both hands into his powder pouch and leapt backwards,

using one hand to propel himself like a rocket while the other continued blasting �re at Hvild. Roger reloaded his gun, his eyes still locked on Hvild. Where would be the best place to hide a

Battery? It seemed unlikely that Hvild kept it in his lair—he didn’t seem to be keeping an especially close eye on the entrance this entire �ght. It would be too easy for someone to slip in and make o� with the Battery without his notice. It was more likely that the Battery was on his person, somewhere that


he could keep constant tabs on. But he was a dragon, with no pockets and no secure folds to store such an object. If it were in his monstrous maw, Hvild wouldn’t risk trying to bite his enemies. But …

Roger took aim. Viper was being pushed far beyond his limits, taking on three Mages at once as well as a dragon. He wouldn’t last much longer, but that was of little consequence. He was expendable from the start. Hvild’s eyes were orbs of pure fury, glistening and menacing. They spun wildly in their sockets, hunting down and tracking their prey this entire �ght. Or at least, one of them was.

There was a crack of gun�re, and a crackle of lightning. Chenxue looked in surprise at Roger, his re�exes nowhere near fast enough to block the beam of light headed straight for Hvild. Even if he could make it in time, there was nothing he could do about a physical bullet.

Blood sprayed against the cave wall as Hvild howled in pain. He writhed and slammed himself against the ground before collapsing, sending Chenxue sprawling onto the ground. The fake eye fell to the ground, and shattered into glass shards, revealing a smaller, metallic orb carved with intricate sigils that glowed orange.

The cave was silent as everyone realized instantaneously what they were looking at. Roger ran for it �rst, when a blast of �re, stronger than any before, �ung him against the wall.

Viper looked at his hands in amazement. “So, what I felt before was the Battery being mu�ed by its casing, huh?” Before Mika or Xialing could react, they were sent �ying by another powerful blast of �re. Viper rocketed forward, his �re growing more intense the closer he got to the glowing orb.

Chenxue tackled him midair, sending both of them rolling onto the ground. “I wouldn’t recommend getting in my way at the moment,” Viper said with an exhilarated glee.

Even with only a small bit of powder, Viper’s �ames erupted like a solar prominence, easily reaching the ceiling of the cave and blasting Chenxue several feet into the air with sheer force.

Chenxue retracted the cloth that covered him as he fell back down. “Magic is still magic,” he said as he swung his thread downward, dragging the sword through the air. Viper tried to step to the side, but Chenxue shortened the thread, drastically increasing the sword’s angular velocity, which sliced cleanly across Viper’s arm.

Viper swore and sent another monstrous burst of �re. Chenxue was hit squarely in the side, and while his cloth prevented the burn, the impact of the rapidly heated air knocked him to the ground with a sickening crunch.

Viper scrambled towards the Battery again when a gust of wind caused it to roll just out of reach. “Go, Xialing!” Mika shouted with all her remaining strength. Viper prepared his palm rockets again, but Xialing was slightly faster. She didn’t bother to land gracefully, instead opting to crash onto the ground. The orb pulsed energetically, sensing the Fire Mage that currently was holding it. Xialing stood up, holding a hand towards Viper threateningly. The Battery was hers.

“Stop right there.” A new voice, from the cave wall. A woman stood at the doorway with several Miamian guards. The woman herself, however,

was not Miamian at all—she had the glistening green eyes of a Life Mage. With one hand, she was pinning Chenxue to the ground, who looked apologetically at Xialing. The other guards had outstretched hands trained on Roger, who was kneeling in a position of surrender.


“Wanda?” Mika whispered, out of breath. Wanda Duponte looked momentarily shocked, an expression that she had rarely ever shown in

public. “Mika. What are you doing here?” “Let Chenxue go,” Xialing said �rmly. “I won’t hesitate to use this,” she said as her grip

tightened on the Battery. Wanda turned her focus back to Xialing. “I think you will,” she said, slipping back to her usual

cold monotone. She �exed her hand on Chenxue’s back, and he screamed in pain. “Hand that Battery to me, and I won’t necrotize your friend’s heart.” The boy felt strange. Her life energy, usually penetrating straight through the human body, seemed to only rest on his skin’s surface. With another twist, Chenxue began sobbing in pain. Regardless, it seemed to have its e�ect.

“Wanda, stop, please!” Mika screamed from the side. “Why are you doing this? This isn’t you.” “Mika, we are dealing with apocalyptic stakes here. I need to get that Battery, whatever the

cost.” Mika’s heart felt cold, as she watched the emotionless lips of the woman she loved. What had

happened to that warm smile? She had always known that Wanda had duties to perform as Sister, ones that required her to lock away the warm, bubbly spirit that Mika knew Wanda always was. But now, seeing her in person…it was clear that that person had died long ago.

“How many people? How many people have you killed, have you tortured?” Mika accused. “I have a responsibility to my people,” Wanda snapped back. Her guards recoiled at the

unexpected outburst. “Mika, I have to protect — all of you. That’s my responsibility as Sister, and I will honor that responsibility by any means.”

“I don’t even recognize you anymore,” Mika said, her voice falling with despair. “Who are you?”

“Mika, don’t…don’t start.” Wanda’s guards were frozen in place as they saw tears begin to form at the edges of Wanda’s eyes. “You have no. Idea. What I’ve sacri�ced. For the Mother. For the Garden. For the people of this continent.” She turned to Xialing and tightened her hold on Chenxue. “What’s it gonna be? Give me that Battery, or else I won’t leave you a body to bury.”

“Don’t do it!” Roger shouted. “You heard Viper mention Lothan, clear as day. The person you’re looking for is in the Congress. Give that Battery to her and we lose.”

“Xialing!” Chenxue looked at her through tears of pain. “P-please.” Xialing’s eyes widened. No gloves. No jacket. She put her free hand up in surrender and lowered the Battery to the ground.

“That’s right, roll it here.” Wanda tried her best to maintain focus on Xialing’s every movement. Her hand continued to necrotize Chenxue’s skin, but she felt the energy sit just on the surface, not sinking any lower. With a push, Xialing sent the Battery gently rolling towards Wanda. Something was wrong.

As soon as Wanda loosened her grip to pick up the orb, Chenxue rolled over, grabbing Wanda’s leg and bringing her crashing down. The guards moved forward, but a blast of air from Mika pushed them backwards.

“How?” Wanda said as Chenxue stood up with little e�ort.


The black cloth crawled its way up the back of his neck, no longer necessary for blocking Wanda’s life energy from seeping into his chest. In one hand, Chenxue held the Fire Battery. “Leave. Now,” he said. From the back, Hvild began to stir again.

“May the Mother forgive the sin you’ve just committed,” Wanda muttered under her breath. “Everyone, retreat,” she said. With one �nal look at Mika, she turned and leapt o� the mountain, accompanied by her guards. The sound of heavy currents, no doubt generated by an Air Mage, slowly went down the side of the mountain. Xialing looked backwards, but Viper was long gone as well.

“That’s some quick thinking,” Roger said, giving Chenxue a thumbs-up. He didn’t smile. “You shouldn’t have shot Hvild.” “Wanda would’ve killed him instead. That Battery is a powerful bargaining chip, and we

needed to make sure we had it,” Roger said resolutely. “I obviously regret using such extreme measures, but the stakes are just too high here.” Roger pointed at the orb. “So that’s it, isn’t it? The real thing?”

“No doubt about it,” Xialing said nervously, looking at the orb like it was a bomb. “When I was holding it, I felt like with one wrong twitch I might set the whole place on �re.”

“All the more reason we make sure it doesn’t fall into the wrong hands,” Roger said, outstretching his hand. “I’ve got scientists working on a way to secure the Battery and conceal its presence, even from Fire Mages. We’ll protect it with our lives.”

“Those Miami guards…Leopold sent Wanda to take it from us?” Chenxue said to himself, still not handing over the Battery.

Roger smirked. Leopold was a shrewd man, always keeping his cards close to his chest, ready to turn on anyone once the tide was favorable. It served him well as prince, and it would have served him well as king, but just this once it would back�re. “He must not have trusted you to deliver. Typical of Mages, don’t you think?” Roger saw Xialing’s confused expression. Surely she already knew. She had seen Chenxue �ght often enough. She must know that they were in the presence of not a Darkness Mage, but a regular drube. “You heard Viper say Lothan too, right? The mystery person we’re looking for is in the Congress, using its power to achieve their goal. There’s no doubt in my mind now that Leopold and Wanda are in on it, too.”

“That’s not possible. They destroyed the Nox Republic, and Vox Mortis,” Xialing said. “Two of the Congress’s most reviled factions. Use your head, Chenxue. What better way to

collect all the Batteries than to say it was for the greater good? Imagine this. A coalition of the stronger factions want to gather power, to gather all of the Batteries. They send a person, posed as a terrorist, to attack the Nox Republic independently, they stir up a frenzy among the upper governments, and in the chaos, convince each and every single one of them to collect the Batteries in one place.”

“Why would they do that?” “To rid themselves of anyone who could oppose them. Decay Mages, Darkness Mages.

Non-Mages. Don’t you get it, Chenxue? They want to purify the world.” Roger watched Chenxue's reaction to the word.

“You said at the library that you had no idea what this person was after,” Xialing said.


Roger grinned. “I didn’t want to put forth any unfounded suspicions, but after I knew that Viper was connected to Lothan, it was all but certain,” Roger replied.

“They’re going after non-Mages?” Chenxue said, his eyes intense. Roger relaxed his shoulders. He had taken the bait. “That’s right. The Congress no doubt

already has all of the other Batteries. All but this one.” Chenxue still wasn’t moving. One more push should do the trick. “A lot of people died at the hands of this monster collecting the Batteries. By keeping this one out of his reach, we can �nally grant them some peace.”

Chenxue’s eyes twitched, and Xialing swore she could see tears prick at the sides of his eyes. “You’re right. For the people we lost.” He handed over the Battery to Roger.

Xialing felt an unidenti�able sinking feeling. His reasoning held up. So why did she feel so wrong? Roger put the Battery into his bag gently. “You three have done a great service to this world. On behalf of non-Mages, and Mages as well, I thank you.”

Xialing’s phone rang. She had nearly forgotten that it was even there. She withdrew it and answered, feeling Roger’s gaze focused on her. “Hello?”

“It’s Roger Badger!” Leopold’s voice was panicked and desperate. “DO NOT GIVE THE BATTERY TO ROGER!”

“Too little, too late,” Roger said, hearing Leopold’s voice crackle through the speaker. Chenxue turned from Xialing to look at Roger. There was a small object in his hand, attached to a strange device. A pointed rock, not the Fire Battery...

He heard Mika gasp behind him. He turned, and the world slowed to a crawl, Mika, eyes wide, was being launched into the air, a spike of blood-soaked stone piercing her through the abdomen as smaller spikes scratched her, splitting her skin. Xialing shielded her face as more spikes embedded themselves into her arms and her legs. Chenxue’s cloth billowed outwards erratically, unable to protect either of them or himself. It managed to shatter some of the stone spears that Roger formed and launched, but it could do nothing about the naturally occurring rocks that fell from the cave roof. It seemed to twist in fear, but Chenxue knew that a piece of cloth couldn’t feel any fear. It was his fear, his realization that the cloth that had protected him from certain death so many times before could do nothing for him now. And though Chenxue feared death, he was in�nitely more afraid of losing that cloth, the one last piece of his past that he was allowed to hold on to. The cloth �uttered mindlessly, caught between trying to preserve its user and trying to preserve itself. It �ew completely out of his grasp, and got caught on a stray stone. Chenxue felt a spike tear through his foot as others only nearly missed his face. The ground beneath them gave way, and Chenxue felt himself falling, falling, his vision growing dark, his view becoming �lled with countless daggers of stone. Roger stood above smiling triumphantly, his hand grasping the Earth Battery. The cave was collapsing inward, and large stalactites began to fall. Chenxue’s whole body felt cold, and his vision faded. He hit the �oor with a crack and felt no more.


PART 3

THE TRUTH


Prologue 3 Yeah, he’s bad, but he’s just trying to get rid of magic, which he’s seen destroy his people, the Greys. Yeah, he’s a lame, trying-too-hard dad—not a fun uncle—but when shit hits the fan, he’s the guy you’d cry to for hours over a half-eaten gallon of Blue Bell ice cream to the 1963 Summer Hits album on vinyl. Genocide? Collateral damage.

Fifty-One Years Ago

It wasn’t the best of times, it wasn’t the worst of times. It was just, well, sort of... times . The Loch Republic had been at war with The Pyre Federation for a long time. Since even before Rodger Badger had been born nineteen years ago. Well, for hundreds of years before that. As far as anyone was concerned, they had been at war forever, and would be at war forever. That was the way things were. Hence, it was times .

Roger never understood the con�ict. Sure, �re and water were opposite elements in, like, an old, alchemy sort of way, but science had progressed beyond that. It was the 60’s, for Pete’s sake! They had a periodic table now. Elements were things like hydrogen, boron, promethium, manganese—not Light, Earth, Mind, Life. And certainly not Water or Fire. Water was made of two elements, as far as Roger understood, and Fire wasn’t really even made up of anything at all, but was more of a chemical reaction. Water put out �re (sometimes), so there was sort of a loose dichotomy there, but hardly enough to justify perpetual war, right?

It was kind of a moot point, though. The Water Faction hugged the Eastern Seaboard, and the Fire Faction was far out in the west. Water couldn’t attack Fire without marching through at least two other factions. It would be a logistical nightmare, one that frankly wasn’t worth it to the politicians in Baltimore. At this point, the war was more or less an excuse for senators to in�ate the defense budget, which in turn stoked conspiracies about the military industrial complex, which in turn gave both parties an easy rallying cry in the midterms. For Warring Times, things were relatively peaceful. For Water Mages.

Roger was no Water Mage. He was a Grey (or, as the kids in his high school had called him, a fucking Grey). Roger had, unfortunately, been born a generation before the great Grey migration to Charlotte. At the time, public schools were still segregated, and non-Mage neighborhoods, like Roger’s, Altunda Junction, were by-and-large dirt poor. Poor meant no tax revenue, and no tax revenue meant underfunded schools. Pair that with the high crime and systemic discrimination, and few born into a place like Altunda Junction ever had the opportunity to get out of the neighborhood. It was a cruel trick, one that Roger didn’t know if the government had set up or simply gotten lucky with.

Roger’s parents, like everyone else in the neighborhood, were poor. But, as they reminded him every night before dinner, they didn’t need money so long as they had Jesus. Roger was devout in his


faith, but the one question neither the priests nor the Bible could ever answer was why any loving deity would put them in a place like this.

“God has a plan for us all,” is the closest thing to an answer he ever got. And maybe that wasn’t so far from the truth. Roger went to a non-Mage-only primary school,

but the kids found other things to bully him over. He was short, he was skinny, he was a nerd. He was smart . That last one was important. In the eighth grade, the guidance counselor had called Roger and his parents into the school, and told them Roger was special. That he might have a future outside of Altunda Junction. That he deserved a chance at Marine Platz, a private school in the suburbs.

The family’s parish put up the money to sponsor him. It was a community e�ort. That was the one great thing about living poor: the community always had your back. Roger didn’t want to go to Marine Platz—private schools weren’t segregated, but they were built for rich kids, and that meant Mages. But his parents didn’t give him a choice.

The bullying there was in�nitely worse than what he had endured in primary school. Roger was the only non-Mage in the school, and the other kids liked to toy with him. On his third day of classes, a group of juniors jumped him in the bathroom. They wielded the water from the toilets so that it went into his nostrils and mouth. He nearly drowned. The teachers, of course, were Mages as well, and as such turned a blind eye to the abuse. By the end of his second week, Roger went home and begged his parents to allow him to return to the public schools, but they had been de�ant.

“If you want to quit, go talk to Father Worrall,” his mother told him. “See how he feels about you walking away from the church’s generosity.”

Roger did go see Father Worrall. The church was located on the corner of Roadler and Flush, and was a quaint, aging little building, its brick facade blotchy and gra�tied, the white paint accenting the windowsills chipped and faded. The church had just two rooms: the main hall, perhaps half the size of a basketball court (which would become so full on Sundays that they would sometimes have to move the back rows of pews to the porch to make more standing room) and Father Worrall’s o�ce behind the altar. Today, the hall was empty. Roger went straight to the Father’s o�ce and knocked twice on the door.

“Confession?” he heard. “No,” Roger replied. “It’s me, Father. Roger Badger.” “Come in.” Roger twisted the old, stained brass door knob and went inside. The o�ce was the size of Roger’s bedroom. Father Worrall’s desk sat snugly in the middle, with

hardly enough room to get by on the left side. His chair was pressed �rmly against the window in the back, so tight that Roger doubted the priest would be able to pull out the front drawer without standing up. Fastened to the ceiling above the desk was a rusty shower rod with an opaque seashell-patterned curtain attached to it with small binder loops. If this was a confession, the priest would pull the curtain across to separate the two. That wasn’t what Roger was here for today.

Father Worrall, a balding, genial looking fellow in maybe his late thirties, beamed at Roger. He stood to shake the boy’s hand.


“Good to see you, boy,” the Father said. His voice was nasally but �rm, accented with a sort of rural Sanctuary twang. He had probably come from somewhere out west. As bad as it was to be a Grey in Loch, it was worse in Pyre and Neros and Moh. In recent years, a lot of Greys had been �nding their way here to Charlotte. “Close the door behind you.”

Roger closed the door and sat across from the priest. The old swivel o�ce chair was missing its back, but Roger was feeling anxious anyway, and kept himself poised on the edge of his seat. Father Worrall smiled again, this time showing o� his teeth like an Alfred E Neuman cartoon.

“What can I do for you?” Roger scooched up even farther on his seat, so much so that he was more squatting than

sitting. “I’ve been thinking a lot,” he said, his voice shaky, matching the nervous hums in his stomach.

“And I think I want to leave Marine Platz.” He felt his throat drop into his stomach as he waited for the priest to react. Father Worrall

nodded his head slowly. He looked down at his desk for a moment, then back up to Roger. “Are the other kids not being nice to you there?” he said solemnly. Roger saw his own face

re�ected in the old man’s glasses, and it �lled him with shame. He hung his head, but didn’t answer. “I know it ain’t easy,” Father Worall said softly. “I think the parish would understand if you wanted to drop out. We could get our tuition deposit back, refund the members.” He paused a moment, but Roger still couldn’t bring himself to look at the priest’s disappointed face. “But I want you to think real hard about this �rst,” Father Worrall continued. “I won’t lie to you—the bullying don’t stop for us Greys when we graduate high school. The bullying lasts our entire lives. I don’t reckon that’s gonna change anytime soon.”

Roger’s eyes were glued to the oak �oorboards in front of him. “Why would God put us in a place like this?” he asked. The priest sighed.

“God’s reasoning for anything is beyond our understanding,” he answered. Roger had heard it all before. The priest scratched his head. “Do you pray at night?” he asked.

Roger nodded. “Of course.” “What do you pray for?” “Well, I pray for health. I pray for food and water and shelter.” “What else?” Roger thought about it for a second. “I pray that someday things aren’t like this anymore,” he

said. “I pray that Greys won’t have to live in places like Altunda Junction and deal with Mages beating up on us all the time.”

Father Worrall nodded his head slowly. “And has God answered those prayers?” Roger shook his head. “Not yet.” “I think he might have.” Roger furrowed his eyebrows, and Father Worrall explained. “God

don’t wave a magic wand up in heaven and make our prayers come true. He gives us opportunities. It seems to me that maybe He’s given you an opportunity. An opportunity to get an education, go to


college, make the world a better place. To prove that Mage, Grey, it don’t matter. We’re all the same where it counts. Have you considered that?”

Roger hadn’t considered that. “I just don’t know if I believe anything anymore.” “Well.” Father Worrall leaned forward in his chair and planted his elbows on the desk.

“Sometimes we get tested. Maybe you don’t believe in God, but I promise you, God believes in you. So do I, and so do the rest of Altunda Junction. We believe you’re gonna do great things, Roger. And if God ain’t answering your prayers, maybe it’s time that you do. Progress requires sacri�ce.”

Roger �nished his four years at Marine Platz at the top of his class, then went on to study at University of Charlotte, where he was now. And how much had changed in those �ve years.

The Sister in the Holy Sanctuary of the Mother had recently begun rounding up and deporting a new mutant class of Life Mages, ones whose mere presence apparently killed everything around them. Death Mages , they were called. Apparently, the Sister had decided not to stop with the Death Mages. Greys, too, were told to leave, their reputation in the west decimated by the rise of Human Purist terrorism groups. With nowhere left to go, they headed east, and spilled into the city of Charlotte by the thousands.

Despite Roger’s exclusion from the factions, he found himself fascinated by their histories and lores. He changed his major to Mythos and Ancient History his sophomore year, a major of less than twenty students.

According to myth, long ago, he learned, there had been no factions, no Mages. No magic. Then came the �rst wielders. At �rst, there were only two types: Darkness and Spirit. As the generations passed, the Mages learned more, and their powers began branching. Earth and Storm emerged from Darkness, and Fire and Water emerged from Spirit. Darkness existed to this day, but Spirit had long ago broken in half, leaving Light and Life in its stead. Other factions, like Air, would come even later.

And that was where Roger Badger �rst heard of the Batteries. Relics lost to time, the source of all magic. Some cultures speculated that they had been created by the factions as a safeguard to their power. Some thought they naturally existed in the world. Roger joked with his friends that perhaps aliens had delivered them to Earth. Modern scienti�c theory rejected all of these theories. In fact, it rejected the existence of Batteries outright.

That was �ne with Roger—he studied mythology, not science. But the concept of the Batteries fascinated him. The professor, a fellow Grey by the name of Dr. Emily Luna, was passionate about them, so much so that she would often go on long tirades about the magical properties each was rumored to have, and of the di�erent places people suspected they might be, skipping past her lectures entirely. That earned her an unpopular reputation with Roger’s classmates, but he was intrigued. He would sit with her at her o�ce hours and talk about the di�erent factions’ legends and stories and myths. She seemed to know everything.

Tuesday, October 19, 1969 was the day that Roger Badger realized God may have been listening to his prayers after all. Roger’s classes ended at noon, and per normal, he trekked through the late Fall chill from Earth and Mineral Sciences to Dr. Luna’s o�ce space in the far northeast corner of


campus. He knocked, but didn’t wait for her to answer before entering her o�ce. She knew he was coming, and knew that he always arrived at the exact same time.

She already had a mug of Earl Grey waiting for him. Her percolator hummed on the sill behind her.

“How are we today?” she asked as he took o� his backpack and took his normal seat across from her.

“I’m doing great,” he replied (his normal, rarely true response). “And yourself?” Dr. Luna’s eyes sparkled. She was older, probably now in her forties, but Roger still found her

quite attractive. He would never tell her that, of course. “I’m the best I have been for many years.” Roger felt the outside of his mug, where the cheap imprint, a yin-yang with a grey centerpiece,

was peeling o�. The tea was still warm. He left it on the table. “Why ecstatic?” he asked. She had obviously been waiting for that question. Behind her, the percolator began to whistle,

and she spun around to fetch it. She poured the water into her own mug, set a tea bag inside, then leaned forward to pull the blinds on her window down, as though someone might be spying on her from outside here on the fourth �oor. When she turned around, her face had become very serious.

“I consider you a very special student,” Dr. Luna began. Roger smiled nervously, his discomfort surely leaking through his already meek facade. The professor didn’t seem to notice. “Few of my students actually care about the content of my classes. But that makes sense, right? It’s all just myths and legends anyway. Just stories. Hardly of the same value of �nance or engineering or biology.”

She looked at him inquisitively, and Roger had a sense she wanted him to push back on that claim.

“Well, they’re not just any stories,” he said. “They’re the stories that shaped our society and culture. They’re a piece of our heritage, I think. Even if they’re not true in a literal sense, they have historical value.”

The professor locked eyes with Roger, and there he saw none of the humor or relief he normally saw in the eyes of his professors when he complimented their area of study. He saw something much stronger. Trust. He again felt the outside of his mug. This time it was cool enough to lift.

“What if I told you that some legends were true in a literal sense?” “What do you mean?” He noticed that the professor hadn’t touched her own drink since

setting it on the desk. Normally she drank hers scalding hot. “The Batteries,” she said. “I think they’re real.” Roger let the tea sit in his mouth for a few moments, feeling too awkward to swallow. He had

no response prepared for that. Thankfully, Dr. Luna continued on. “I have been studying this topic for nearly my entire life,” she said. “I have seen things that can’t

be explained, not even by magic. Or at least not by any known magic. I’m not alone in my belief.” “But you said in class that they couldn’t exist,” Roger �nally said. She shook her head.


“I said that nobody in the scienti�c community takes the idea seriously. But if we can accept the idea of Auxilifacts, then I don’t see how a Battery is so far of a stretch.”

Roger saw the logic in that. But it all seemed...wrong. Every discussion and lecture and speech about the Batteries had always been prefaced with the reminder that they were just make-believe. If there was even a chance they could exist, why would every single scientist on the continent take such a �rm stance against it?

“I think I’ve located one.” It broke Roger’s train of thought. His eyes went wide. “What?” Dr. Luna tossed a fresh newspaper onto the desk and pivoted it so that Roger could see the

headline. Enormous Sinkhole Swallows Town of Lewston . Accompanying it was an aerial photograph of the site. It looked almost like a sloppy quarry, an enormous, gaping mouth in the Earth.

“This newspaper came out of a small hamlet in the Moh Empire this morning,” Dr. Luna said. “Strangely enough, it wasn’t mentioned in any of the empire’s national media. Seems to me like the government is trying to keep a lid on this.”

Roger scanned the article. Lewston, originally founded as a homestead for regional coal miners, is located about 200 miles north of Billings… he scanned further ... none of the typical warning signs of such a disaster…

“...I’m going there,” Dr. Luna said. “And I want you to accompany me.”

The Loch Republic and Moh Empire were not at war. Even so, tensions between factions were high, and tensions between Greys and Mages in the west were very high. Neither Roger nor Dr. Luna had any interest in passing through the Billings interfactional airport.

Instead, Dr. Luna chartered a plane to �y directly from Charlotte to a small town called Peak’s Valley. The Moh Empire’s aviation authority approved the request just three days after the professor submitted it. They were travelling under a cover story. Roger was to play the part of a graduate TA, and Dr. Luna was to be studying a supposed archaeological site outside of Peak’s Valley. That site didn’t exist, but Earth folk could be a bit dense, and no one had apparently bothered checking it out.

It was the �rst time Roger had been on an airplane. The world looked so small from so high above. He tried to spot Altunda Junction as they took o�, but didn’t even know where to start in the sprawling concrete waste below them. His whole life, everything , just a speck in that sea. When they passed into the Holy Sanctuary’s airspace, the ground became noticeably more colorful. They spent just a short while over Life, where the ground was a forest of rolling greens and oranges and reds, interrupted only by blocky yellow farms, before passing over the dark blue landscape of Lake Erie. They stayed over the water for the majority of their �ight, only passing back over land—a cold, desolate region—an hour before landing.

Peak’s Valley had no airport; the runway was made of dusty, packed dirt, and the only building attached was a small wooden barn that served as a hangar. Dr. Luna’s chartered jet was too large for the hangar, but the chic Airbus Concorde looked out of place amongst the spillover biplanes and


cropdusters, so she agreed to let the pilot keep it down in Billings until their scheduled return �ight in two days.

It wasn’t a far walk to Avis, where Dr. Luna had a Toyota Crown rented. Roger’s suitcase had a broken wheel that tugged stubbornly to the left, which happened to be the same direction as the brisk October breeze, so after a few minutes he surrendered and carried it by its handles.

“Let me do the talking while we’re here,” she told him softly. “People in this part of the world aren’t so friendly to our kind like they are in Charlotte.”

If the people in Charlotte were considered Grey-friendly, Roger feared what sort of treatment they would get here. He did as he was told, and let Dr. Luna talk to the Avis receptionist, then later, to the hotel clerk.

The highway between Peak’s Valley and Lewston was a single-lane thing riddled with potholes and sketched in with long-since faded paint. Roger only saw one single exit marker on the two-hour drive, and not a single gas station. The landscape here was long and �at, and relatively clear of obstructions to the view; the cracked clay earth, blotted with patches of old snow, supported a few wispy shrubs and tumbleweeds and the occasional withering ironwood tree, but nothing larger. Roger could see the sinkhole, that enormous pit, approaching from twenty miles away.

They reached their destination by early evening. Dr. Luna parked the car a good distance away from the pit’s edge and fetched a shovel from the trunk. The two came upon the edge together.

Looking out over the abyss, Roger saw more than a sinkhole. He saw a canyon. The thing must have extended for at least ten miles across in both directions, and down at least a thousand feet down.

“Legend says the �rst Mohs used the Battery to carve out the Grand Canyon to defend themselves from the Pyre Federation,” Dr. Luna told him as they began their descent along the canyon’s serrated walls. “I’ve always assumed the Earth Battery was somewhere down there. It’s a quiet one. This is the �rst signi�cant event I’ve been able to track in my lifetime.”

“Why start making noise now?” Roger asked. Dr. Luna shook her head. “Maybe the Battery is ready to be discovered. Or maybe someone else found it before we did.” Roger again considered the mass carnage around him. “You think someone used the Battery to

do this?” “I would guess it was done accidentally. Javelin operates in this area. Maybe the purists �nally

tracked the thing down and were trying to hide it from the government up here. Batteries aren’t like Auxilifacts as far as I know. Greys can’t just use them to wield. So if a bunch of purists got their hands on the thing and were toying around…”

Dr. Luna didn’t bother �nishing her sentence. Roger got the point. Their journey to the canyon �oor went much faster than Roger would’ve expected. At the

bottom were the ruins of what Roger assumed had once been the town of Lewston. Half of what was left of the city had been forced beneath the earth, and the other half lay in twisted piles of wooden boards and beams and supports.


Dr. Luna navigated through the wreckage with ease, as though she already knew where she was going. Roger stayed close behind her, his attention focused on keeping his balance on the shaky rubble beneath him.

“How do we know what we’re looking for?” Dr. Luna paused and turned to face him. “This isn’t the �rst time I’ve been to Lewston,” she

said. Her face looked more serious now than it had a second before. Her eyebrows fell back apologetically, and she sighed, then continued in a strained voice. “I was here once before with my then-husband. He got…well, he got involved with Javelin.” Roger held back a surprised look, and Dr. Luna held her hands up. “I’m not a purist,” she said quickly. “When I learned what was going on with my husband, things fell apart pretty quickly. We’re not together anymore.”

“Oh,” Roger stammered. “I’m sorry.” “Thank you.” She turned and began her march onward, Roger in tow. “We were both on

sabbatical,” she continued. “He didn’t think I noticed him disappearing at night. I thought he was having an a�air, but I followed him one night, and found he was meeting with these weird people in the library basement. It looked like some kind of cult. I’m not too big on coincidences. If the Battery is here, I bet the Javelins had it there.”

Even with the town in this state, the library was obvious enough to pick out. Though its arched pillars had collapsed and fallen, the exterior facade had actually held together relatively well. Dr. Luna led Roger through the empty door frames, whose interior glass had shattered, and around the shelves, which had fallen to the right like dominos. The building’s interior was a murky blue, broken only by the few sharp light rays that could slip through the cracks in the wall. A broken pipe leaked water into the room above the front door, where it spilled o� a micro�lm machine onto a pile of books. Roger sidestepped the �ow and pulled his jacket tighter around himself.

“There are some archives in the basement,” Dr. Luna told him. Her voice seemed out of place here. This accident had happened this week, but the place already seemed dead. It seemed haunted. The basement entrance was in a storage room behind the check-out counter down a set of rickety backless steps. The room itself was about the same size as his church’s nave, with boxes packed against the walls and long ornate carpet across the �oor. The room was remarkably well-preserved compared to the rest of the town, almost suspiciously so. Dr. Luna turned to face him. Her face was alight.

“This has got to be it,” she said. “Help me move this carpet out of the way.” Roger grabbed the carpet and helped the professor pull it to the side. As they pulled, it caught

on something, and Dr. Luna moved to loosen it. She tugged at where it had snagged, then pulled the thing up, and froze.

“Professor?” Roger asked. She didn’t respond. Roger let the carpet fall and moved around to get his own view. Dr. Luna was perched over a square space cut into the concrete. She removed a shoebox from that space with tight hands. She pulled the lid o�.

Inside was a blocky rock with jagged edges. It was a dusty brown color, much the landscape outside, and in Roger’s eyes, somewhat unremarkable. But the professor’s eyes were wide, her mouth slightly agape. That’s how Roger knew that they had found it.


The professor reached out and hesitantly set a hand on the Battery, then recoiled. “We have it,” she said. She set the lid back on the box and handed it to Roger. “Be very careful

with that. We need to get it out of here.” Roger looked at the box in his hands, and suddenly felt very nervous. He was holding the Earth

Battery. “What, who, where are we bringing it?” he stuttered. “This thing decimated this town. We

can’t bring it back to Charlotte.” “Oh course not,” she responded. “I have an o�ce outside of the city, and I won’t mess around

with it like the Javelins would have. We’ll bring it there until I can �gure out a safe place for it. Now come with me. I can call the jet back from the hotel phone and see if we can get out of here even sooner.”

Roger followed the professor back out of the basement and library. The box felt heavy in his hands. Very heavy. Outside, the sky was red and pink, and the sun was nearly gone. Their journey back out of the canyon was quicker than the journey into it. When they again reached the surface, Roger saw that a group of three rugged-looking men were waiting at their car, with their own vehicle, a rusty pickup truck, parked just a few meters to the side. Dr. Luna frowned. Roger noticed her tighten her grip on the shovel.

“Keep your head down,” she told him. “I’ll handle this.” The men looked unsurprised to see them approach. All three were dressed in leather boots and

rawhide coats. The man in the middle wore a cowboy hat. They were old, but not unintimidating. The cowboy hat fellow spoke �rst.

“This area’s been declared a national no-entry zone,” he said. “You folk shouldn’t be out here.” “You’re right about that,” Dr. Luna responded. She pulled her wallet from her pocket and

�ashed a badge that Roger hadn’t even known she’d been carrying. “I’m with disaster relief and investigation.” The cowboy hat fellow smirked.

“Yeah, I got one of them, too.” He showed o� his own badge. “I’m the sheri� for Peak’s Valley and Lewston. Ain’t nobody told me about any disaster relief folks.”

“That’s because it’s above your paygrade, sheri�.” He narrowed his eyes. “Paygrade my ass. This is my town to protect.” Dr. Luna gestured to the canyon behind them. “Well, you’ve done a �ne job protecting. If you

have a problem, you can take it up with Billings.” She turned to Roger. “Roger, come now.” They moved around the o�cers in the direction of their Toyota, the sheri�’s skeptical gaze

burning a hole in the back of Roger’s head. “Since when has the DRS got drubes working for them?” he quipped as they passed by. Dr.

Luna didn’t react, which upset the sheri� enough for him to call out a �nal question. “What’s in the box, boy?”

Roger made the mistake of looking back. He met eyes with the sheri� for just a second, a horrible second. Somehow, in that split-second nervous look, he saw the dots fall into place in the man’s mind. The sheri� reached for his belt. withdrawing a revolver.


“Stop right there.” Roger froze, and Dr. Luna spun around. “Have you lost your goddamn mind?” she started, but the sheri� shook his head. The other

o�cers drew their own weapons. “You fucking drubes think you’re so clever, huh? What’s in the box?” Roger’s vision started to narrow. Is this what a panic attack felt like? Please, not now… “I, uh, I…” He wracked his brain for an answer, but came up short. “Open it up,” the sheri� said. “You’re out of line…” Dr. Luna said. The sheri� �red his revolver into the air, and Roger

jumped. “One more word from you, bitch, and I’ll blow the drube kid’s fucking head o�,” he said. He

kept his attention on Roger. “Open the box,” he repeated. “I ain’t gonna ask again.” Roger set his shaking hands on the lid of the box and slowly lifted it. He tilted the thing so that

the sheri� could see. The sheri�’s face contorted in confusion. “A rock?” he said. Roger nodded. “It’s, um, evidence,” he said. “We don’t know that the sinkhole here was an accident. We think

Javelin might be involved, and that this rock could be, um, evidence for, um, that.” Stupid . He had panicked, and Javelin was all he could think of. The sheri� narrowed his

eyebrows. “Well, I wanna see it,” he said. “Clive, go get it.” One of the o�cers reholstered his gun and started towards them. Roger looked beyond him, to

the sinkhole. Javelin really had done that. They were Greys, too. He was holding one of the greatest weapons on the continent. He just didn’t know how to control it. But maybe he didn’t have to control it.

Roger waited until Clive got close, then tilted the box just a bit more forward. Dr. Luna’s eyes went wide as she realized his plan. The Battery tipped out of the box and fell. Time slowed down. Roger dropped the box. Clive opened his mouth to say something. Then it hit the ground.

The world exploded. Roger was thrown back along with Dr. Luna. He �ew through the air like a ragdoll, crashing like a brick into the Toyota’s driver’s side door. The glass shattered, and when Roger rolled over, he noticed he had left a dent in the aluminum. He blacked out for a moment, and when he came back, stars swam across his vision. He pulled himself into a sitting position just in time to see Dr. Luna swing the blunt end of her shovel into Clive’s face like a baseball bat, sending him toppling. She had the Battery in her hand. Where it had hit the ground just a few moments earlier was a divot, and as Roger watched, that divot collapsed into a much larger hole. Cracks began slithering out from that spot like hungry, angry snakes, and the ground again pulsed, knocking Dr. Luna to her knees and setting o� the two vehicles’ car alarms. Dr. Luna got herself up and ran in Roger’s direction.

“Get in the car!” she yelled. Roger forced himself to his feet and threw himself in the backseat just as Dr. Luna reached the Toyota. She threw open the door and fell into the driver’s seat. Roger noticed a streak of blood running down her face from a wound somewhere in her hairline.


“I’m sorry!” he said. “I didn’t know what else to do!” Her face was a crazed mix of horror and excitement. “Are you kidding?” she shot back. “That

was brilliant!” She got the car started just as a gunshot rang out. Roger heard a dull clang as the bullet hit the

fender. He ducked behind the seat. “Stay down!” Dr. Luna yelled. She pulled the wheel as far as it went to the left and slammed on

the gas. The old car screeched excitedly and sputtered to life. Roger was thrown around the backseat as they rounded o� the shoulder and through the weeds. Roger heard another gunshot, and this time the back windshield shattered. Glass beads peltered the back of his neck.

“This is insane!” he yelled. “Are they following us?” Roger dared peek over the backseat. Behind them, the sheri� and standing o�cer had given up

shooting. They were both on the run back to their pickup truck. That wasn’t what caught Roger’s attention, though. That sinkhole, the new one that he had just created, was now the size of a football �eld. And it was growing, quickly, with the hunger of a savage beast, swallowing up earth faster and faster and faster…

“Drive faster!” Roger yelled. “The sinkhole! It’s coming!” “This is a Crown, not a Charger!” Dr. Luna responded as she switched into fourth gear. “This

is as fast as it goes!” Roger watched with horror as the hole raced towards them. The o�cers’ pickup truck was now

just a few hundred feet behind them, barreling down the highway with an equal level of urgency, but it wasn’t quick enough. The sinkhole caught up with them and engulfed their truck, pulling it down into whatever terrible void was below. Roger’s mouth fell open.

It was, by all accounts, outpacing them. One of the crevices shot out from the main sinkhole and looped its way in front of their car, cracking the asphalt of the highway and sending the Toyota into the air. The car hit the ground hard and bounced, but kept onward. But the sinkhole was right behind them, approaching fast. One hundred feet, �fty feet, ten feet…

Dr. Luna slammed on the break and pulled the wheel to the left. Roger was thrown against the wall as it spun 180 degrees. The sinkhole reached them. The car was now backwards on the highway, and the front tipped �rst. Roger closed his eyes. But then...nothing.

When Roger opened his eyes again. He realized that they hadn’t fallen. The sinkhole had halted its approach just in time. The car was perched on the edge of the abyss like the beam on a balance scale. They rocked forward and backward, the old aluminum groaning. Through the front windshield, Roger could see just how far the sinkhole had collapsed. It was the same as it had been in Lewston: at least 1,000 feet. His breath caught in his throat.

“Roger.” He had almost forgotten Dr. Luna was in the car. She didn’t dare move to try to look at him. “Roger,” she said again.

“Yeah?” he croaked.


“Take the Earth Battery,” she said. It had somehow gotten caught on one of the middle console’s cup holders. She reached for it, and the car swayed a bit, sending a new wave of spikes up Roger’s back. She held it up so that he could take it.

“I don’t want it,” he said. “Roger, take the Battery and open your door,” she said. Roger looked to the door. This half of

the car was still �xed on the land. He could, theoretically, just step out. “No, Dr. Luna,” he said. “This car is like a scale right now. I’m weighing down the back. If I get

out, you’ll fall back.” “Roger, take the Battery and open your door,” she repeated. Roger furrowed his eyebrows. “You need to get out �rst,” he said, and this time she raised her voice. “Dammit, Roger! Take the Battery and get out of the car.” She took a breath and lowered her

voice. “If I move, this whole thing is going to fall. Now get out.” “But —” “Remember my o�ce outside the city? Find it. All of my research on the Batteries is there. You

may be able to track down some of the others. Now take the Battery.” Roger took the Battery. Dr. Luna hu�ed a sad laugh. “The Batteries are real,” she said, almost more to herself than to him. She dared to open the

glove compartment and fetch a pack of cigarettes Roger hadn’t seen her put there. She jammed one in her mouth and ignited it with the car’s cigarette lighter. “We proved it, Roger,” she continued with a pu� of smoke. “And if the Batteries are real, that means magic isn’t permanent. We can restore the world to how it was. Before the Warring Times, before the age of factions and discrimination against the Greys.”

Roger felt like his head was in a vise. “But what should I do with the Battery? I don’t…” The car groaned and tilted further. Dr. Luna inhaled the smoke from her cigarette. “You’re a good kid, Roger. You’ll �gure it out. But you have to go now.” The car groaned again, and Roger maneuvered himself slowly to the door. He pushed it open. The whole thing fell. Roger threw himself out of the door and landed heavily against the

ground. He couldn’t move for a few seconds, the face against the dirt, the Earth Battery pressed tightly against his chest. Then he heard a distant crash , and pulled himself into a sitting position. He crawled to the edge of the pit, and looked down below, where the Toyota lay on its back.

“Dr. Luna?” he yelled. There was, of course, no response. Roger took a deep breath and looked at the stone in his hands. The Earth Battery.

As he walked back to Peak’s Valley on that desolate highway in the cold night air, dressed in his torn jacket and dusty jeans, Roger thought about what to do next.

A month from that day, Roger would enter Dr Luna’s o�ce, where amongst a lifetime’s worth of research on the Batteries, he would �nd a framed photo of her and her husband and small girl—Claudia Luna—who would follow in her father’s footsteps in Javelin, then encourage her own daughter, Centari Luna, to do the same. Thirteen months from that day, a migrant crisis of dislocated Greys from the West would spark an anti-immigration riot in Charlotte, during which Father Worrall


and six other members of the Altunda Junction parish would be murdered. Twenty months from that day, the Loch Republic would be forced to desegregate schools as the Grey population in Charlotte exploded, and Roger would get a job as an intern at the newly-formed Council of Grey, where he would climb the ladder and eventually be appointed president. Seventy-six months from that day, Roger would travel to New Orleans after years of analyzing Dr. Luna’s research and monitoring the media, and would �nd the Storm Battery stashed away in an old antique shop in the French Quarter. Three-hundred-and-�fty months after that day, he would begin an a�air with Evelyn Dazzle, Queen of Kingdom Miami, after a chance meeting at a Grey Liberties convention in Jacksonville. Over the next �fty years, he would add the Water Battery and Air Battery to his collection. The Water Battery was easily stolen, but the Air Battery required more persuasion; he managed to trick H. and E. Glass to take the fall for him. All that he still needed was Fire, and he would have all of the undiscovered Batteries. He knew the locations of the others—Light in the Beacon, Life in the Tree of Life, Darkness was in the Shadow Cloud generator, Mind in the Brain—but they were guarded. Protected.

Fire had eluded him for decades, but he was running out of time. The Snake Bay Pirates would help, but he needed to be there when they found it. The other Batteries would be more challenging, and he didn’t have the resources…

He didn’t have the resources, and in the end, he didn’t even have to �nd them. The man with the resources came to him and told him the story of a new Battery being built in the Decay Faction, one that had enough Decay energy to wipe out a city. To decimate its defenses.

Roger and his new friend took the Decay Battery. He used it to take the Darkness Battery, the last piece of the puzzle. The Darkness Battery, paired with a device he had created using the Council’s resources, would allow him to unlock the power of the Batteries he had collected over the years. It would take an army to steal the well-guarded Life and Light Batteries, but with Darkness and Mind together, he could create one.

Roger Badger had never destroyed one of his Batteries. He needed them to secure the others. If one Battery survived, then too would magic, and that just wouldn’t do. He needed every last one of them. Then he could destroy them all and save the world.

The death and destruction that this project now necessitated was a horrible thing. But progress required sacri�ce.


Chapter 39 Cyrus — The Ranger and the Prince Cyrus charged the door with his shoulder, not even bothering to check if he had locked it on

his way in. He rushed out and ran to the nearest vehicle he could �nd, looking back to make sure his new carry-on was still following. The Light Mage in the fancy shoes and white undershirt — Leopold Dazzle, as he had introduced himself — rushed out of the building with far less brute force, joining him by the car.

“What are you doing?” the Light Mage asked. “A little trick I learned from a friend. Watch my back!” Cyrus responded as he searched for the

Storm Battery that was certainly in this lackluster getaway car. His companion looked around with the perceptiveness of the common �eld mouse, almost twitching with the fear of the situation at hand.

“I don’t mean to be that guy, but we really don’t have the time to collect personal e�ects,” he warned sourly. Cyrus heard him prepare another light burst. He looked back and saw that there were a few people on the street around them. Like the security guards inside the Dome, they all had strange spirals in their eyes and were running towards them like drunken apes. Cyrus intensi�ed his search for the Storm Battery and didn’t hesitate when he laid eyes on the simple electrical object. Not stopping to make sure his gloves were on, Cyrus shoved his arm into the inner workings of the vehicle and tore the Battery o� its connector.

The sounds of light blasts sounded behind Cyrus as he continued working. Leopold at least seemed capable despite his demeanor. Cyrus dug into his coat pocket to locate the piece of Centari’s gauntlet that he had stolen and threw it into where he had torn the Battery. It aligned itself perfectly, and provided a jolt of electricity that started the car instantly.

“Get in!” Cyrus commanded as he assumed the driver’s seat. Leopold complied, running quickly to the other side and sweeping himself inside. As Cyrus locked their doors, the zombie-like citizens of Neros began banging on the sides of the car, attempting to rip the metal beast apart to get at the fugitives inside.

Leopold put on his seat belt. Cyrus wasted no time, putting the car in drive and forcing the vehicle forwards at a breakneck

pace. He swerved so as to not hit as many turned civilians as possible, but outran the walking threats before long. However, it didn’t end there, as he soon noticed other cars being commandeered by their foes. They started much more quickly than Cyrus’s little Gauss trick, and were soon gaining on them.

“They can drive?” Leopold asked, his mouth agape. “I guess the normal rules when it comes to mindless armies don’t apply.” Cyrus answered,

pulling out his Auxilifact. “What the hell is that?” “A little shadow market special order. Magic goes in, death comes out.” Cyrus rolled down his

window with the barrel of the device, and then transferred it to his left hand. He kept the car at high speed as a truck full of mind-controlled Nero's members pulled up to their side. As if to demonstrate


to his new ally what the Auxilifact could really do, Cyrus pointed it directly at the tire of the truck and pulled the trigger. The blast of shadowy energy ripped through the air and tore at the tire, causing it to explode into rubbery bits.

Without all four tires to keep it level, the truck’s speed fell drastically, and it only took a second for Cyrus to truly retake his lead. As an act of desperation or stupidity, the passenger inside the truck attempted to jump out of the truck and onto Cyrus’s car, but only landed and rolled on the hard pavement. Cyrus and Leopold winced in unison. As if in response to the display, the other cars behind Cyrus began dipping backwards, giving him ground. He kept his eyes on them. Cyrus knew they wouldn’t truly let them go so easily.

Or would they? The cars behind them continued to fall back before eventually stopping, the strange spiraled faces watching Cyrus drive away.

“What the…” Cyrus said. “They’re letting us go?” “Maybe that Storm freak called them back,” Leopold suggested. “But why.” “I don’t know. There will be more of them, though. Stay sharp.”

The strange part was, there wasn’t. It seemed like Centari had given up on chasing them. However, Cyrus knew that wasn’t true. It wasn’t like her to allow an enemy to have free reign of information like this. Especially considering that it had escaped with someone who seemed to know exactly what was going on in the world these days. In the end, Cyrus concluded that Centari was planning on taking that army somewhere, and there was seemingly nothing Cyrus could do about it.

His rescuee suggested the idea of �eeing to the Congress, and Cyrus reluctantly agreed to take him there. As much as he hated how they stumbled over everything, Cyrus knew they were the only ones with the clout to command armies. And one could only defeat an army with another army. Not long after they cleared the border of the Neros Institute, Cyrus got to talk to his new ally. He had introduced himself in a rush during the escape, but now revealed his true identity. He was not just Leopold Dazzle, but rather Prince Leopold Dazzle of Kingdom Miami. Anyone with that much political in�uence had to be dirtily connected to this somehow.

However, the more they talked, the more Cyrus became convinced that Leopold was genuine. Unlike most rulers that Cyrus had witnessed during his time with the Sister, Leopold cared deeply about his family and its honor. Most of the other factions had little care in their own houses and people, but he was proud of who he was. It kind of reminded Cyrus of an extremely toned down version of the Sister herself. The other Light Mage inside of the Dome, the one who had sacri�ced himself for their escape, was apparently Leopold’s brother, Lorenzo. Leopold didn’t want to talk much about that, though. Cyrus could understand why. After hearing his story, Cyrus told his own to reciprocate.

“When I found out she wasn’t really a Mage, she naturally turned the gun on me. It slowed me down enough that she could grab the gauntlets back and make her escape. I tracked her ever since, knowing she was connected but not how.”


Cyrus �nished his story as he and the prince sat next to each other in the stolen car. The escape from Neros was �lled with chaos and split-second decisions, within all of which was barely any time to talk. Now that the mind-controlled Neros Institute guards had seemingly given up on pursuing them, there was nothing but a strange silence. Both Cyrus and Leopold wished to cut through that silence with their voices as much as possible.

“She works for Roger Badger,” Leopold said distractedly. He was �dgeting with his phone, but couldn’t seem to get a signal. “Fucking Greys.”

“I didn’t know that,” Cyrus said bitterly. “I suspected he might’ve had some involvement with purists but didn’t expect some politician to actually get up and do anything himself.”

“I guess none of us did.” “I’m sorry about your brother. I didn’t get a chance to say anything back when —” “If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather we skipped the condolences and well-wishes.” Leopold

said, shifting a little bit on his seat. “I’d trade all the thoughts and prayers in Kingdom Miami for �ve minutes alone in a room with Roger Badger.” Leopold took an angry breath and threw his phone to the �oor. “I just didn’t know Lorenzo to do something like that. I guess he was always one for dramatics.”

“Well, he saved both of us, that’s for sure. We’re going to honor him.” “How? By the time we get there, it will already be over!” Leopold gave Cyrus the same

argument he had when the coast �rst cleared. “And if we call for your family jet, it will be all too easy for someone in Roger Badger’s position

to place agents and kill both of us before we alert anyone,” Cyrus explained again. Leopold sighed, and just stared out the window for a few minutes. Cyrus planned to drive

non-stop until the two of them reached the Congress, but it was already getting late. He hadn’t even slept for days before he witnessed the completion of Centari’s plan. Or, as it was now, Roger Badger’s plan. The Life Mage rubbed his eyes. He didn’t trust the prince to get him there. To start, he didn’t trust him personally. Cyrus predicted he would have trouble trusting anyone after what Centari did to him, and in his position Prince Dazzle could easily be another lieutenant under Badger, waiting until the right moment to strike. In second place, he doubted the spoiled man even knew how to drive.

Leopold seemed genuine, though. Having lost his mother, Cyrus knew how much Lorenzo’s death would a�ect the prince. Cyrus could practically smell the grief on him, even if he didn’t show it much. He kept scanning his body with life energy to sense lies, or any emotion other than what he showed, but found nothing. Cyrus still raised his arm to the Auxilifact inside of his coat to make sure it was ready to be drawn and �red, just in case. Six shots.

“You should try and get some sleep,” Cyrus said to him after a few minutes. “I can’t,” Leopold answered. “You should be the one looking for a rest. You look like you’re

going to collapse.” “I am going to collapse.” Cyrus chuckled. “But not before we get there. You’re a prince. You

need to be able to talk and speak clearly, and I heard sleep helps with that.” “I heard sleep helps with driving, too.”


“Not if I’m asleep at the wheel.” Cyrus changed his attention to �nd Leopold giving him a serious look. “You’ll be safe, I promise.”

“Says the giant mysterious vigilante in a trench coat.” “And I can trust someone who obviously is more at home in a debate room than a battle�eld. I

can do this all night, or I can drive us home. Your choice!” Cyrus raised his voice near the end, which seemed to shut the prince up. They were nearly the

same age, but he felt as if a much greater age di�erence existed between them. The Life Mage drove in silence punctuated by the occasional bumps on the road. The car they rode in would make the trip, but barely. Cyrus noted the mileage as too much for a getaway car, yet it was what was available at the time.

He refocused his attention back to the Sister. What would he say to her after being gone for so long? What had he accomplished for all of his e�orts? Killing a few street thugs that local authorities could easily handle was not exactly something to write home about. Especially not with someone with the Sister’s expectations of him. Cyrus knew what she’d say, too. Oh, there you are. Did you get anything useful while rogueing around?

His answer had to be what it always was: No . All he had accomplished was successfully escorting his people’s (and several others, it seemed) greatest enemy directly to where she needed to go. Yet even Centari was a lackey, a diversion from the true threat. Cyrus hadn’t even considered the leader of the Greys to be someone to look at. Compared to the humans he interacted with over the years, they seemed to enjoy being themselves and happy to stay out of magical a�airs. Didn’t even cross his mind that Rodger Badger was the one putting this all together.

“Did you know Rodger Badger?” Cyrus asked, hoping to get more information on this new threat.

“Not personally. I knew he was the leader of the Greys, but nobody at my level really took him all that seriously.” Leopold’s voice trailed o�. “Do you know Wanda?”

“The Sister?” Cyrus asked, and continued when the prince nodded, “Heh, not surprised she didn’t mention me. She practically mentored me the past couple years.”

“She choked the life out of a golden retriever right in front of my eyes,” Leopold said. “I watched her paralyze a child. And yet, inexplicably, she’s the only person at the Congress who I really trust. If all goes to plan, she’ll have the Fire Battery in her hands by the end of the day.”

“She loves mages.” Cyrus said, �ling away the bit about the Fire Battery. He didn’t need to probe on that point just yet. “She just has an interesting way of showing it.”

“ Interesting ?” The prince said in a goading tone. “Every leader wants what is best for her or his people. The Sister is similar to your father in a lot

of ways, I bet.” “Yeah, but is outcasting your own kind and living by ‘the strong’ versus ‘the weak’ such a good

way to show love?” “I have a feeling you’re not a fan of our politics,” Cyrus said with little interest in debating with

someone who’s been bred for just that. “After all this, I’m not sure I’m a fan of any politics.”


“Perhaps we are just a little intimidating.” Cyrus laughed. “The Sister always likes us to appear greater than we are. It’s how we avoid con�ict.”

Leopold shifted in his seat. He was obviously uncomfortable with the current situation in several ways.

“If it’s any consolation, you’d do well if born over in the Sanctuary,” Cyrus said. “How do you �gure?” the prince replied. “You’re a powerful wielder. I’m not an expert on Light magic itself, but both you and your

brother did well in the �ght. It’s obvious your bloodline is powerful.” “In more ways than one.” He seemed lost in thought again. There was more silence. Cyrus continued to drive, �nally getting used to the machine’s

movements. It reminded him of a beast’s inner organs. The car seemed to breathe, taking in air and blowing it out the back once used. Each part had its function and purpose. The engine and the body itself worked as a single, massive unit whose will was controlled by pedals and wheels. Not very di�erent from controlling an animal with his magic (although Cyrus personally liked to let them keep their wills: dominating others was a bit of an immoral act to him personally).

As he was having this thought, he began to sense more life around them. They had been driving through woods, but they began to close o� from the open areas of the highway. Trees closed in, and Cyrus could almost hear them sing. It still ba�ed him how much Centari’s device dampened his abilities. He hadn’t truly communicated with nature since before this whole mess started. He made a promise to meditate more often once Centari and her boss were taken down for good.

He sensed the deer before it leapt onto the road, so Cyrus knew exactly when to stop. However, there wasn’t exactly time to let Leopold know. As he hit the brakes with full force, the prince jolted forwards, straining himself against the seatbelt and nearly hitting his head on the dashboard. He cursed with impunity at what had transpired, and the deer was gone before the prince got a chance to see it. Cyrus came to a complete stop, and began to truly sense the world around him. It seemed to be glowing with energy to him.

“Is there any reason you decided to stop right then?” Leopold demanded. “Deer,” Cyrus responded simply, not taking his attention o� of his surroundings, then, “This

place feels wrong.” “It seems like every other stretch of this God-forsaken highway.” The prince clutched at his

side. The belt must’ve had serious pull. “You wouldn’t see it. It’s glowing with life.” Cyrus put the car in park. “Wait here.” “We’re surrounded by forest,” Leopold whined. “Of course it’s glowing with life.” Cyrus left the car and went to the nearest tree, putting his hand up against it to better hear its

thoughts and gather the source of the energy. He felt it probe his mind in kind, and before a few seconds had passed, they had access to each other.

Leopold propped his door open and leaned out. “Not to nag, but we kind of have places to be.”


“Quiet.” Cyrus practically shushed him as if he was a small child. He felt through the body of the tree, down towards the root structures. From there, this plant intertwined with others, allowing him to see through other life’s eyes. He traveled through the plant life, feeling their joyful thoughts as they celebrated something. Cyrus traveled until he �nally found the source of nature’s apparent good time: UV spotlights were set up along the road just a few miles ahead. They had tricked the nearby plants into thinking the sun had returned in the middle of the night, and now was the time to grow strong and tall.

Quickly, Cyrus warned the plants that those lights were used by humans and thus not to be trusted as the sun, and then returned to his own mind, none the worse for wear. He turned back to Leopold, who by this point had left the car with annoyance covering his face.

“There’s a checkpoint set up down this road some ways. Probably by some brainwashed Neros troops.”

“That tree told you that?” “No, a tree a few miles away told me that. I just happened to hear it through the proverbial

grapevine.” “So then, what now?” “We go o� the road. We get up there, take the fools out, and take one of their vehicles instead

of this one.” As Cyrus spoke, he tore out the piece of Centari’s gauntlet from the car for usage later. “It’s not going to be that easy,” Leopold warned him. “Oh, it won’t be easy. Life never is.” Cyrus returned to the soft dirt on the side of the road, and

knelt down to it, putting his hand straight over the land. The prince followed him skittishly, not wanting to be alone in the woods at this time of night.

“I’m not going to give you any credit for that pun.” Cyrus felt the prince’s eyes on him. “What are you doing now? Sweet nothings with the sweetgrass?”

“I’m pretty sure you don’t want to walk three miles there, your Highness.” Cyrus chuckled as he located two bears not too far from them. He convinced them pretty easily to give the two of them a ride with the promise of his last remaining bit of Mothersbread. He was pretty surprised the two of them had even heard of the delectable treat for beasts and men alike this far from the Sanctuary, but didn’t question it.

“How do you feel about bears?” Cyrus asked with a smile.

“No,” Leopold said as he crossed his arms in protest. Cyrus hopped aboard his bear in one swift motion, his coat �apping in the air as a trail of leather. The other bear, the calmer one and thus better to carry the increasingly-out-of-his element prince, looked to Cyrus in confusion.

“Is something wrong with me?” she asked Cyrus, although Leopold only heard a growl. He shrunk further back.

“No, nothing’s wrong with you,” Cyrus answered. “Look, Leo, you could —” “It’s Leo pold ,” the prince interjected.


“Fine. You could trudge the three miles ahead around that checkpoint and get those fancy shoes all full of mud and muck and get there within half an hour or more, or you could let this beautiful young beast ferry you there within ten minutes before charging into battle like a king of legend. Your choice.” Cyrus tried to make it sound as if the prince himself would be doing virtually nothing for all of his bene�t. Leopold looked to the bear, who looked at the Light Mage dubiously, and then turned his gaze back to Cyrus.

“It’s safe, right?” he asked. “We’re not violating any animal rights laws?” The bear next to him laughed. “Of course. I labeled you as a friend.” Cyrus assured him of his safety, then added, “ She is

happy to take us up, as long as you don’t hurt her on the way up.” “How could I hurt it?” He inspected the bear’s powerful frame. If he had not been in the

presence of Cyrus, the creature might’ve mauled him to death on the spot. “It’s massive.” “So are you to insects. Yet they can still bite you.” Cyrus said. With that, Leopold slowly

approached the bear’s side and awkwardly tried to step up on her. With a nod from Cyrus, the bear knelt down a little, letting the prince on top before hoisting him o� the ground. After a small kerfu�e, the prince was squarely in position.

“You ever ridden a horse before, prince?” Cyrus asked with a smile. “Only dressage,” Leopold answered. “I don’t think this is comparable.” He looked around

quickly, but seemed to relax the longer his feet were o� the ground. “Keep your grip. Hands and legs, alright? She’ll run carefully for you, but it’s up to you to stay

up there.” Cyrus patted the side of his steed, and he began to lumber away. The other bear reassured that the prince was still on top of her, and then followed. Leopold was unbalanced for a moment as he tried desperately to �nd his grip. Luckily, he had a kind bear companion who was patient with him. As the beasts sped up into a run, Leopold �nally had gotten his bearings. Although, he still looked like some idiot holding on for his precious laugh.

“Doing alright back there?” Cyrus called back. “As alright as could be expected!” Leopold answered. Cyrus laughed deeply. As he did, he

realized how genuine it sounded. It had been a long time since he had a good laugh. From before this whole situation started, at least. As a part of the Sister’s rigorous training for him, he had to spend a day in a ferocious, ravenous tiger’s cage. Using his abilities, he was to placate the beast and convince it that he was not food. Further, he was supposed to instruct the animal on how to open its cage and escape.

It was an unorthodox test, to be sure. Most who tried obviously became tiger food. Cyrus, however, became great friends with him. His name that was given to him by people was Raja (after some children’s character: Cyrus didn’t bother to check it out), but he hated it. It sounded too rough. He preferred to be called Tig, the �rst half of his animal name. It didn’t take much to convince Tig not to eat Cyrus. The two actually got into a complex conversation about life, and how viewing it from both sides of the cage brought them together. Tig was surprisingly intelligent for his species. Cyrus always thought it was the Mother’s in�uence, as he lived so close to it for so long.


Long story short, Cyrus and the tiger hit it o� to the point that Cyrus constantly visited him whenever he needed someone to talk to. The two had developed a friendship that most humans would kill to have, and constantly joked and mused to each other on their lives and goals. Cyrus hadn’t seen Tig for weeks before the destruction of Nox. With a quick thought, he wondered how he was doing.

The bears ran quickly. Perhaps in anticipation of their reward, both of the beasts ran in ways most people would consider unnatural. Cyrus gave them a small order to settle down, not wanting his new royal pain to be knocked o� on his �rst Life Magic Wild Ride. They were having an amazing time, though. The trees whizzed past as the bears used all four limbs to tear through the forest. They were almost like apes in the jungle, weaving e�ortlessly through the land as if they were swinging on vines and branches. They knew these woods better than Cyrus even knew the back of his hand. He had a thought to go the whole distance with them, but soon pushed that out of his mind. If the factions stood any chance, they needed to arrive as soon as possible. The iron variants of steeds just moved faster.

When the �rst signs of the spotlights came into view, Cyrus ordered the bears to stop. As they were far enough into the trees, there was no way the zombie-Neros citizens could see them. Not without looking away from the road, which they seemed to watch as if the most interesting thing in the universe was on the horizon. He turned to Leopold, who was understandably shaken from the experience.

“You okay to wield?” Cyrus asked him. “I just rode a bear through three miles of forest. How do you think I feel?” The prince

answered. He looked like he was going to be sick. “I think you feel sick because of the green on your face.” Cyrus said with a smile, “But that isn’t

what I asked.” To answer the question, Leopold let go of his steed for a moment to try and focus some light to

his palm. Surprising both of them, it came easily, giving a little illumination to their situation. He shut it o� before it gave away their position.

“That’s more than I expected.” Cyrus remarked, impressed with his companion’s abilities. “Same here,” Leopold admitted. “But my Light magic is always stronger at night.” “You think you can get enough juice to take down one or two of them? The bears and I can

handle the rest.” “If you give me a minute, I think I can be ready.” “Then take a minute. Then, I’m gonna have you and Shiva cross the street a ways back and take

up a position on the opposite side. We can hit them from both directions at once, turning the tables on the slaughter.”

“Who’s Shiva?” “You’re on top of her.” Cyrus smiled.

As Leopold doubled back and readied Cyrus’s �anking plan, the Life Mage scouted their enemies silently from the brush. There were six of them, each in varying combat attire. They had


overturned a car to use as a barricade, and �anked it with massive trucks decorated with massive �oodlights. They were interested in makeup, sending out UV rays as well as normal light. After getting a closer look, they seemed to be created speci�cally for getting plants to grow in unnaturally dark conditions. Cyrus assumed they were from Nox before the disappearance by their designs being similar to Auxilifacts like his weapon.

He checked the weapon once more. Six shots. There were six guards, but there was no way he was going to risk everything to distribute one to each. The bears could easily incapacitate one of them each before things got dicey, leaving two for Cyrus and two for Leopold. Or, more likely, three for Cyrus and one for Leopold (Cyrus didn’t trust the prince’s lack of combat experience to do much more than that. He had talent and training, but seemed as if he had never used them in a �ght before Neros).

It wasn’t long before he caught a glimpse of a few small �ashes of light from the other side of the road. That was the signal they had agreed upon. Cyrus drew his weapon and urged his beast forwards. The bear seemed to return to a more instinctual self, and lumbered onto the road straight for the closest soldier. As he turned around to see what the ruckus was about, he was slapped down by one of the bear’s massive paws. Before he could even gasp at the force, the bear’s jaws were over his throat. Shiva, carrying Leopold, did the same thing to the outermost guard on the opposite side. The soldiers quickly turned with almost superhuman reaction speed and aimed their ri�es for the mages in their midst.

Cyrus rolled o� of his steed and squeezed the trigger on his Auxilifact. A blast of dark energy �ew out of its barrel and pierced straight through the body armor of the soldier closest to him. He heard in�nite ri�e shots ringing out over the forest, and saw a �ash of light as Leopold created a shield of light around himself and Shiva. Not wasting any time, Cyrus charged at the next target, taking what must’ve been a dozen bullets in the process. However, it wasn’t anything he hadn’t had before.

With a single touch, the life energy began to �ow from her into him. The shock was visible on her face, but she refused to scream. This one was strong. She resisted greatly as her strength faded. Each wound Cyrus obtained from her stitched itself back together within moments with the energy he gained, and she was forced to drop her weapon. In a surprising motion, she raised her hand to grasp his arm, and eventually pulled him o� of her. Cyrus stepped back, not wanting to be close to that sort of strength for long. He readied his device and released a shot into her leg as she moved to pick up her weapon.

Cyrus heard a crunch as the two other guards were launched backwards, and then saw the light shield that was the culprit. Not wanting to be shown up at his own game, Cyrus �red again, this time piercing his opponent’s shoulder and taking her down for good.

“What a waste of potential,” Cyrus said bitterly. Resisting his magic was a very rare talent, and often coincided with a lot of magical talent. The guards thrown by his ally got up quickly and began to �re again, being seemingly unfazed by the power they were up against. One shot Cyrus in the leg, but he was able to �re o� a shot of his own to take him out at the same time. Before a second passed, Shiva


appeared out of seemingly nowhere, surrounded by light generated by her passenger, and took down the only remaining guard.

“Holy shit!” Leopold exchanged in a very unroyal manner. “Are you okay?” “What, this?” Cyrus gestured to his leg, which was gushing blood. The bullet must’ve hit an

artery. “You’re not worried or anything?” Leopold was incredulous. “Observe,” Cyrus replied with a smile. He got a chance to show o�. The mage waved his hand

over his wounds, and with a bright green glow, the gunshot wound repaired itself, pushing out the bullet that had been lodged there.

“Damn. Don’t you feel that?” The prince was most certainly impressed as Cyrus stood back up.

“Yeah, but you learn to ignore it.” Cyrus said. “Part of my training was taking bullets and healing them repeatedly until I had the process memorized.”

Cyrus’s bear came up from behind and nudged his shoulder. It emitted a pained growl. “One got me,” he said, raising his right front paw. “Don’t worry, big one.” Cyrus placed his palm on the wound: a small hole in the mountainous

beast’s shoulder. Just like the bullets �red at Cyrus, the metal invader was pushed out within seconds. “I’m grateful our factions have always been on the same side of the war,” Leopold mused. “Life

Mages have got quite a few tricks up their sleeve.” “It’s no shooting out light everywhere you look, but it works for us,” Cyrus said, sending some

of his energy back to the Auxilifact. Afterwards, he felt almost drained. “That’s about all I have in me. That one was able to stop me from taking her power, so I

couldn’t refuel.” “What does that mean?” “I’ll explain later. What’s important is that I don’t have much �ghting power left, so you’ll have

to do most of it for a few hours.” As Cyrus gave Leopold the run-down, the bears approached Cyrus, eager for their reward. “Will you be coming back?” Shiva said in a language only Cyrus could know. “I hope not. These parts are dangerous for us,” Cyrus said back, bringing out the last servings

of Mothersbread. “You both might want to stay away from the roads a bit more than usual for a while. Humans may be more persuaded to shoot anything that moves.”

The bears nodded in understanding as they took the mothersbread and began to trample o�. Leopold, no longer able to keep his balance, was thrown o� Shiva and caught himself on the road.

“We could use those in Miami.” “O� limits,” Cyrus laughed. “Does this mean you enjoyed this little adventure, prince in

distress?” “I wouldn’t use the word enjoy. Not even close. But surely there’s a lesson hiding in all of this

somewhere, and…” Leopold trailed o� as Cyrus sized up their vehicle loot. “And?” Cyrus chose the largest truck that looked to have special bulletproof glass.


“And I thought this was, at a minimum, amusing .” He picked himself o� of the pavement, “Don’t tell anybody I said that.”

“I won’t tell anybody you heroically rode into battle riding a bear if you won’t.” Cyrus hoisted himself into the truck and found the Gauss Battery just as he had done with their original ride.

“Wait…” Leopold seemed to be considering the political rami�cations of that statement. Before he had much time to ponder, Cyrus already had the truck started.

“You coming or what?” Cyrus asked over the triumphant roar of the vehicle’s engine. The Life Mage pulled the truck out of blockade formation and then laughed as the prince

struggled to lift himself upwards. Cyrus gave him his hand, and he took it. Cyrus heard a buzzing, and Leopold’s attention snapped to his pocket. The prince pulled out

his cell phone. “I have reception,” he said quietly. “A message just came in from Wanda.” “What does it say?” Leopold was distracted by his phone, so Cyrus repeated the question. This time, Leopold

responded. “I asked her to follow these two kids looking for the Fire Battery,” he said. “She was supposed

to pick it up o� of them tonight. But apparently something’s gone wrong. I’ll call her.” Leopold set his phone on speaker, and the dial tone hummed. Then she picked up. “Sister

Duponte?” he said. “Prince Leopold,” she responded, her voice crackling and distorted. Even with the poor call

connection, Cyrus recognized her voice. It sounded strange, like she was nervous. That made him nervous.

“What happened? Did you get it?” “We lost it...retreat down the mountain...couldn’t stop the kids...working with Roger Badger

from Council of…” Her voice cut in and out rapidly. Leopold cursed as the audio scratched out. “What does she mean they’re working with Roger Badger?” Cyrus asked. Leopold cursed

again, and again the phone put out a dial tone. “C’mon, pick up, pick up, you fucking hotpot.” It connected. Leopold put the phone directly

in front of his mouth and yelled. “It’s Roger Badger!” His voice was desperate and loud. “DO NOT GIVE THE BATTERY TO ROGER!” There was no response before the call dropped. Leopold turned back to Cyrus. “Fuck!”

Leopold typed an explanation of Centari and the Mind Battery and sent it to Wanda. To his relief, the message went through.

Cyrus didn’t wait for Leopold to explain. He slammed his foot on the gas, leaving the barricade behind, driving quickly once again to bring the news to world leaders.


Chapter 40 Eleanor — Rescuing Ruth The trail seemed to drag on for miles with no trace of other human life forces. The sun began

to set as they trekked through the mud and rain puddles. Eleanor didn’t know how far they had come; granted, nothing seemed familiar to her. Something told her that this would be a very long journey. She spotted a river down west and decided she wanted to stop and �ll her canteen. She needed to tell Ireland. Talking to her seemed awkward, as Ireland’s words rang fresh in her ear. She fell back into step with Ireland. Eleanor opted to gently tap on her shoulder.

“Um...I saw a river up ahead. Think I’m gonna �ll up my canteen.” “It’s your sister,” Ireland shrugged, voice cold. “I’m going to keep walking toward the tree.

Catch up with me when you’re done.” She started to walk at a faster clip, and Eleanor dragged her hand down her face in exhaustion from trying to maintain a civil conversation with Ireland. This isn’t how Eleanor pictured a conversation with her crush to go. Ireland was acting like a child. She shook her head and continued toward the river.

She took o� her converse and socks o�, dipping her feet into the water. It felt cool against her skin. Her eye caught sight of two blue jays perched on a tree branch, nuzzling each other. Sometimes, Eleanor wished she was a bird. She could’ve been free. Free from all of the pain and the heartbreak. She didn’t want to face Ireland. Hell, she didn’t want to face Ruth .

But she knew she had to at some point. Sounds of branches cracking made her jump in surprise. “Who’s out there?”

She felt a bag being pulled over her head and her hands being tied in front of her. Just stay calm, Eleanor. She’d learned from a young age that you shouldn’t panic. It will just make things worse. So she shut her eyes and prayed that whatever happens next won’t be painful.

Eleanor could hear snippets of conversation from where she was being kept at. The bag smelled of mulch, leftover ham sandwiches, and boiled eggs, making her gag.

“Lothan’ll be so glad, he’ll give me a fuckin’ promotion, man.” “He’ll hopefully pay us more than we bargained for.” A low chuckle rumbled out. “How ‘bout we make a stop here for the night?” “Fine by me.” Eleanor felt someone push her and force her to sit down on a rock. Rough hands pulled the

bag o� of her head to reveal a man and a woman peering down at her with their arms crossed over their chests. They looked intimidating. Eleanor swallowed the bile rising in her throat and tried to keep her face neutral. As Eleanor looked around, she realized that they were near the Tree.

“Who’re you guys?” They looked at each other, then back to her. “I’m Aurla, and that’s — ” “Diré,” the man said, raising a single eyebrow. He turned to Aurla. “Go fetch the other girl.”


“On it,” Aurla said, stalking o� into the shadows. Eleanor watched as Diré took o� his jacket and placed it on a rock close by, sitting down. He

had discarded a beautiful wooden cane, clearly made from dark wood. It lay by his feet. “What the fuck is going on?” He eyed her icily. “We need a Decay mage to quell the beast within this wondrous Tree here.” “But all the Decay mages are dead and I’m not one.” Eleanor crossed her legs, as they started to

shake. “Not all of the Decay mages were in the Vox Mortis,” Diré said, stroking his jacket gently. His

foot nudged the cane gently. “The Decay energy also �ows through certain Life mages. In fact, there is a girl here that has strong Decay energy.”

A strange numbness ran up Eleanor’s spine. “Flowing through certain L-life mages?” Diré stared at her for a moment. “Yes, some Life mages actually have Decay energy. However, this tree houses a wonderful gift, a

battery of life.” “What does a Life mage have to do with the Tree? The Tree protects the people within the Life

faction.” “You see that birthmark there, on your wrist? That tells me you’re a life mage, and capable of

entering the tree in order for Aurla and I to �nally get the battery of life.” Ekeanor subconsciously looked down at the small leaf-shaped mark on her wrist. “And what

does Lothan want with the Battery?” Diré smiled, teeth razor sharp in his bloody smile. “Oh, it’s not about what Lothan wants, it’s what his boss wants. Lothan was just promised the

girl afterward.” “Why are you in this then?” Diré leaned over, staring at Eleanor directly in the eyes. “I want to destroy all magic in this god-forsaken country. You mages have been high and

mighty for far too long.” While he continued to talk, Eleanor started to twist her hands out of the bindings.

Before Eleanor could answer, she saw Aurla dragging someone toward them, a �stful of hair clenched in her hand. As she got closer, Eleanor could see a young girl no older than twelve. Aurla pushed the girl in front of her.

And Eleanor felt her heart stop. No no no no. Ruth is fine; mom’s probably at home getting drunk as usual while Ruth is playing with fashionable clothes and pretending that the hallway is the stage. But the longer she looked at the girl, there was no mistaking that brown wavy hair and the three freckles on one side of her cheek. It was Ruth. Eleanor opened her mouth to say something, but all that came out was a scream.

Suddenly, there was a silver knife sticking out of the trunk of the Tree of Life. When Eleanor turned, she could see a head of dark brown hair.


“Ireland?” Diré swiftly grabbed Ireland’s knife and twisted, throwing it at Ireland. She quickly dodged it,

and pulled out another dagger from her coat pocket. Diré leaned down and scooped up his beloved cane.

“Eleanor, grab your sister and get out of here!” She screamed as she ran toward Diré, aiming for the head. He quickly turned and stared at Eleanor.

“Sister?” He asked, as a smirk etched its way across his face. “Interesting.” He then turned and lunged forward, meeting Ireland’s knife with the dark cane.

Eleanor had gotten her hands free as Diré was talking. She ran to where Aurla and Ruth were; she tried to pry Aurla’s hand away from Ruth's hair. Instead, Aurla pulled out a dagger and held the tip at her neck. “Follow me if you know what’s good for you.” Whichever way Eleanor looked at it, she wouldn’t be able to free both herself and Ruth at the moment. She had no choice but to follow.

A scream rang out. Eleanor whipped her head around. Diré had both the knife and his cane in hand and was slowly advancing toward Ireland. Ireland was kneeling on the ground, body curled in, protecting her left hand. There was a deep gash in her wrist, and Eleanor could tell that she was losing blood fast. Too fast. Quickly, Diré took his cane and hit Ireland in the side of the head. With a gasp, Ireland fell to the side, blood steadily dripping from both wounds. Diré raised his cane again.

“STOP! Please! I — I’ll do what you want, just please. Let me heal her,” Eleanor begged. Diré tilted his head, indicating intrigue.

Eleanor didn’t even hesitate to say it. “I love her.” She looked at Ireland, a tiny smile forming on her lips.

Diré pushed the cane under Ireland’s head, pushing her onto her back. “Do it.” Eleanor took a deep breath and walked up to the Tree. She placed her hand against the trunk

and closed her eyes. She could feel all the cells in her body vibrating and resonating with the roots of the Tree. A small hole began to appear on the trunk, and then proceeded to expand in all directions. Eleanor could only hope that this satis�ed Diré.

Diré turned around in awe. He let his cane slip from his �ngers, bouncing noisily to the ground below. He strode forward. He quickly glanced at Aurla and Ruth.

“Come on,” he said, then gave Eleanor a glance. “Do what you want.” Eleanor rushed to Ireland. “Stay with me.” She put her palms onto her chest, just like she did

countless other times. The glowing purple stream of healing �owed into Ireland. Eleanor watched the gashes on her wrist getting stitched together, leaving a thick white scar in its wake. The dried blood caking the back of her head faded away. She heard Ireland groan in pain as she attempted to lift herself up from the ground. “You need to stay put. You’re still weak.”

“Look,” Ireland groaned out, pointing a �nger over Eleanor’s shoulder. She quickly turned around, and gasped.

Diré and Aurla were dragging Ruth into the hole Eleanor created, where a giant white snake creature lay curled in a circle. There was an aura of death surrounding him. Eleanor shuddered. She ran


to the Tree, but she was too late. She watched miserably as they pushed Ruth closer to the Tree and forced her hand to rest on the trunk. Ruth mumbled a slew of words not of English nature.

“Manis Levis Tamaro Lefel deto Rondayutus.” The beast’s milky white eyes began to soften, its demeanor one of contentment rather than

anger. It slithered gracefully as it parted the leaves that covered the Life Battery. Ruth’s legs started to buckle and soon her entire body was racking with spasms. She seemed to have no control over her arm muscles, causing her to lift her hand o� the trunk and collapse at the base of the Tree.

“Fuck,” Diré whispered, backing away. Aurla joined him. Unbeknownst to them, Ireland had grabbed the cane and was shakily getting up. They were so distracted with Ruth’s collapsed body that they failed to notice Ireland walking behind them. She swung the cane directly at Diré’s head, and he fell down in a heap. She repeated the same motion to Aurla. She tossed away the cane and scooped up a rogue knife. She walked over to their convulsing bodies and slit each of their throats. She quickly looked over at Eleanor, who was looking at Ruth in complete shock.

“NO!” Eleanor yelled at the top of her lungs. She ran to Ruth, staring at her muscles spazzing every few seconds. “Ruth, I’m here, look at me. I’m here, okay?” She cradled Ruth’s head onto her lap and tried to channel her healing power. “I never should’ve ran away. I was a coward. I am a coward. Oh God, I’m so fucking sorry!” The spasms suddenly stopped and Ruth looked at Eleanor.

“El.” “What, Ruth?” She didn’t answer. “Ruth, I’m right here,” Eleanor said again, hoping to reach Ruth. Ruth grabbed Eleanor’s hand and held it tightly against her chest. “El, I-I’m af-fraid to die.”

“Shh. You’re not going to die, okay?” Both Eleanor and Ruth were crying, their tears mixed the other. They just stayed like that for a while. Until Eleanor felt her heart stop beneath her palm.

“NO! RUTH, GET UP! Mom needs you! You can’t just leave her, you know.” She shook her. No response. Eleanor pounded her �st against Ruth’s chest. “ I need you!” Her vision blurred as a torrent of tear droplets poured down her cheeks. “This isn’t how it was supposed to go! This isn’t...how...it…” Eleanor just felt numb. Like it was all she’d ever known.


Chapter 41 Chenxue — Our Best Selves “Xialing?” Chenxue’s voice was broken and desperate. “Mika?” He rolled on to his stomach,

trying to see. There was a light, a small �re. “Chenxue, thank god,” Xialing was crying. “Please, I—I need your help.” Chenxue crawled towards Xialing, trying not to move his foot too much, which still bled out

the small hole that was punched through it. Chenxue didn’t realize until he made it to Xialing, but the ground was covered in blood. “H-help me wrap this around,” Xialing croaked as she handed Chenxue a thick roll of gauze. Mika was completely still and deathly cold. A sizable hole in her abdomen was roughly covered with layers and layers of bandages. Chenxue went to work, the area silent except for Xialing’s mu�ed sobs. The lone �re cast long shadows on the surrounding rock which seemed to dance, taunting them in their moment of desperation.

Mika’s breathing slowly returned to normal as the bleeding was staunched. “God,” Xialing muttered under her breath. The �relight revealed her features by small degrees, but it was clear that she was injured heavily as well.

“Come here,” Chenxue said quietly. He searched through his own bag for more �rst aid materials and began to wrap up Xialing’s injuries. His head was pounding, from exhaustion and frustration. Xialing had warned him from the beginning, but he was still taken in by Roger’s prose. They had practically led him to the Fire Battery. All he had to do was convince them to hand it to him. Hell, he probably would have just killed them if they refused. “I’m sorry. I thought we could trust him.”

“Yeah. I did too.” Xialing sighed. Chenxue �nished the �nal bandage. “How are you feeling?” he asked gently. “I’ll live,” she sighed. “Where’s your aux . . . where’s your cloth thing?” Chenxue pointed at the ceiling. “Lost it. Stuck up there.” Xialing sighed and leaned her head against the stone wall. “We can’t stay here. Mika needs to

get to a hospital, fast.” “Right,” Chenxue murmured, holding his head in his hands. As much as he felt like passing

out, the synapses kept going o� like �recrackers. Was Hvild still up there? Where had Viper gone? Had Wanda left the mountain, or was she waiting at the base? Did they stop Roger? Would they even be able to? How would they—

“Chenxue!” Xialing’s voice was mu�ed as he hit the ground.

“Just think of what you want it to be, and . . .” The cloth turned into a scarf immediately. “Wow, good work. You pick this stu� up fast.”

“I don’t want to go,” Chenxue said. “Well, we’ve got to,” his mother replied wistfully. “It just isn’t safe here anymore.” “I’m sorry. I messed this up, didn’t I?”


“Stop that,” his mother snapped back. “You can’t live like this, Chenxue. When we walk, we look forward, but you just can’t stop looking back.” She held his scarf tightly. “I’ve seen you practicing with this the past couple of days. I can see that you’re getting kind of attached.”

“How could I not?” Chenxue chuckled. “It makes me feel like a mage. Like I’m strong.” “Well, do you know how to unlock the cloth’s full potential?” Chenxue looked up in wonder. “How?” His mother leaned close. “You’ve got to let it go. This cloth is meant to protect you, but

someday its job will be done. You have to know when to let it go. And when you do, a power unlike any other will emerge to protect you, one last time.”

There was a light in the distance. “What does that mean?” Chenxue asked. The light was growing brighter, and larger. “Let it go, Chenxue.” There was a shockwave of

dust, and Chenxue saw the buildings in the distance become swallowed in the explosion. He was being pushed back by the wind, his mother, his family far away. But her voice was still loud in his ears. “Let us go, Chenxue.” The wind pushed him beyond the borders of the Nox Republic as he watched the light engulf the entire city.

Chenxue awoke with a start, instinctively reaching for the pocket where he always kept that cloth since adolescence. Of course, it wasn’t there.

“How are you feeling?” Xialing asked. She was walking around the perimeter of the cavern, carefully inspecting the walls with a small �ame in her hand.

Chenxue carefully felt his foot, which was wrapped in bandages. She must have tended to him last night. “Better. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” She gave the wall a spiteful kick. “The bad news is that I don’t think there’s any air�ow from any of the cracks in these walls, which means we probably have limited air. But on the other hand, the bad news is our one phone got smashed, so we can’t contact anyone on the outside.”

“And what’s the bad news?” Chenxue said, barely mustering up the energy to laugh. “That means that if we want to see anything, we have to use my �re, which reduces how much

oxygen we have to breathe.” She looked at Chenxue, who was still staring at the ground. “Nightmares?”

“Something like that,” he replied. Mika was awake and propped up against a wall. She smiled weakly at Chenxue.

“I dreamed that I was late for class, and I couldn’t get my locker open. High school haunts me, even when I’m about to die,” Mika said sardonically. He looked through the backpacks to take inventory of what tools they had. All of their �rst aid equipment was practically gone. There were food and water rations for a day at most. They had blankets, a shattered lantern…and that was it.

“Is the boy awake?” asked a booming voice from above. So, Hvild was still alive. “I asked Hvild if he could blast a hole for us, but he told me that…he breathes ice, not

dynamite,” Xialing said.


“Point for me,” Chenxue replied. “So, we’re stuck here.” “Pretty much. We’ll eventually starve, and then we’ll have to eat Mika for sustenance,” Xialing

said in a defeated tone. She sat down as Mika �ipped her o� from the corner. “You know, we’ve known each other for years, but while you were sleeping…I realized I don’t really know anything about you. Weird, isn’t it?”

“Weird,” Chenxue murmured. “So, what do you want to know?” “Your cloth. It’s an auxilifact, isn’t it? That’s how you use Darkness magic. You’re a

non-Mage.” “What, you going to report me to the police?” “No, it’s just … I’ve never seen one like that. Where did you get it?” “It’s a long story.” “We’ve got time.” Chenxue sighed. “My family didn’t always live on the outskirts of the Darkness Faction. We

used to live right in the capital” “By the castles? That must have been cool.” “No,” Chenxue laughed bitterly. “In the castles. My mother was once the president of the Nox

Republic.” Xialing’s eyebrows raised themselves by at least an inch. “No way.” “Yup. My whole big family, living in the capital. Between my dad’s family and my mom’s

family, we had over 20 relatives, all in various places in the city. When my mom was president, I was about 9 years old. I pretty much sucked at everything. Sports, music, schoolwork, you name it. And when it came to magic? I couldn’t even make a wisp of shadow. But I had good friends, and things were �ne for the next three or four years.” Chenxue sighed heavily. “Now, the capital had been all Mages for decades at that point. Old government policies had practically driven all non-Mages to the edges of the faction, so old that not even my mom could reverse their e�ects. No one said it, but many of the people there were proud of the ‘purity’ they’d manage to create, proud of the faulty genes they managed to avoid. After all, you can’t get a non-Mage from two Mage parents. At least, you couldn’t. Not until I came along.”

Mika sat up as best as he could, and from above, Chenxue could hear Hvild’s steady breathing. “I was thirteen, and I still didn’t show any signs of being able to wield magic. It was becoming

increasingly obvious that I was a Non-Mage, and now that there was a scandal to take part in, people were all over it. Most people still believed that two Mages couldn’t possibly make a non-Mage kid, so accusations were �ying about my mother having an a�air, sleeping with some non-mage from the edges of the Faction. But my dad never bought that bullshit, and my parents for the most part stayed strong through the scandal. The real trouble was a small group of people, highly religious and obsessed with purity. They had believed for so long that as long as a non-mage never made their way into the capital, their genetic purity could be kept, but now, against all odds, I existed. They were afraid. They knew it wasn’t planned, and they were too afraid to think it was pure chance. So eventually, they concluded it could only be one thing.”


“Fate,” Xialing said, her voice heavy. “Exactly. I was just entering high school, and most of those religious nuts were convinced that I

was some sort of demon, sent as a harbinger of the end times. I would only be the �rst, they said. They believed that many more would follow in my wake, to taint the lineage of the proud Mage families of the capital and bring forth the faction’s downfall. It was only a small group of people, but you know how rumors spread in high school. I had no friends left by the 10 th grade, and one day, I lost it. Got into a �st �ght with a group of �ve kids in the parking lot. I don’t even remember what they said to me.”

Chenxue chuckled. “Needless to say, they whooped my ass. The fact that I threw the �rst punch was enough to get me suspended, but the real problem was that the parents of those kids were the religious nuts I was talking about before. So of course, they were sent into a frenzy. They sent death threats to every member of my family, even my relatives living outside. The castle guards caught several bombs that were trying to make their way in through the mail. Eventually my whole family moved into the main castle, trying to protect me. The whole capital was turning on us; even my mom’s ‘loyal colleagues’ seemed to be hoping for an accident to happen.”

Chenxue rubbed his �ngers subconsciously, as if �dgeting with gloves that weren’t there. “My dad was a magical engineer of sorts. He made plenty of auxilifacts before they were outlawed. He came up with a plan, to protect me and to protect the family. When I was 16, he sat me down and told me to pack. My whole family was leaving the capital; my mom was leaving her presidency behind. We were going to move to where no one would know what I was. And he handed me that cloth.” Chenxue pointed upwards. “For the past year, as things got worse and worse in the capital, my family worked on that. A darkness auxilifact to put all others to shame, something �lled with so much Darkness energy that it could last for years. Each stitch was imbued with enough Darkness energy to cancel out a Fire Mage’s hottest blasts, to delete entire sections of an Earth Mage’s creations. It could shift from one form to another, from gloves to a coat to a cloth. The idea was that with that, I could protect myself from Mages.”

“You could disguise yourself as a Darkness Mage.” “That was the one thing my parents insisted I never do. They told me to never lie about who I

was. They told me that I was a non-Mage, and that was okay.” Chenxue sco�ed. “What a load of bullshit.”

“Chenxue…your parents love you a lot,” Xialing said gently. “And a lot of good it did them too,” he replied bitterly, standing up. “Do you hate your parents?” Xialing asked incredulously. “Yeah, I do! I hate them for being stupid enough keep a kid like me around!” Chenxue

shouted, his voice cracking. Tears began to well up despite his best e�orts to keep them back. “All I ever did in my life was mess up. I was never good at . . . anything! And in the end, I couldn’t even be just a mediocre Mage for my parents. I made the whole city turn on us, I made my whole family move to the outskirts of our faction, I made my mom give up her career—”

“None of that was your fault,” Xialing said.


“I was the one who got into that �ght. I was the one who couldn’t use magic. I tried, you know?” Chenxue was fully sobbing now. “I tried, for years and years and years. If I could just make one wisp of shadow, if I could just make one bit of magic, all my problems would disappear. But I couldn’t, I couldn’t do anything. And now my entire family was going to move somewhere else? My parents couldn’t see it, but I could. As long as I was still there, trouble would �nd us. So, I did the only thing that made sense. I ran.”

“You what?” “I…ran from home. Before my family could leave, I wrote them a letter and just left. I couldn’t

stand to face them anymore.” Chenxue collapsed on the ground, wiping snot from his nose. “I never even got to say goodbye.”

“Chenxue…” Xialing’s voice was frail, fearful of what she was about to ask. “Chenxue, you told me that your parents were safe from the attack on Nox Republic. Was that true?” Chenxue stared ahead, eyes empty. “Of course not.”

Xialing felt her heart fall through the ground. “I’m so sorry.” “I tried. I really tried to do right by them. But now I’ve messed everything up again, and we’re

going to die in this stupid cave!” He kicked at the wall with his bad foot, and immediately fell to the ground in pain. They sat in silence for a moment. “I’ve been going in circles, screwing up again and again my whole life. It’s not that I don’t believe in fate. It’s that I’m just so scared that it’s real. Because maybe this is just what I was meant to be. Maybe this is all I can be.” Chenxue tried to dry his eyes on his sleeve.

“Damn it,” Wanda hissed. The guards that were still alive were no more than heaps on the ground. Her vines were burned to charcoal, and several of the nearby cars were turned over. To think that he had more than one Battery already. “Pick up the phone,” she muttered, just as the voicemail tone rang. “Leopold. Roger Badger is behind all of this. He has the Fire Battery, as well as the Earth. We need to assume the worst. Call back as soon as possible.” She stu�ed her phone away, her mind racing. Had Neros also been hit? Just how many people did Roger have on his side? And of the Batteries unaccounted for, just how many were already in his possession? The Light and Life Batteries. Those were the only ones that were con�rmed safe. She needed to return to the Sanctuary, immediately.

“Those morons,” she whispered, looking up at the mountain. “Xavier, let’s get going.” “Roger probably killed all of them already,” the guard protested. “Just get moving.”

Chenxue futilely tried to pry some of the large boulders away from their positions. A large slope of rocks currently covered the only known exit from their current hole, and not a single rock gave any indication of budging. Xialing was tending to Mika, giving her the last of their water. She thought back to the �ght at the bar, and the �ght that had occurred above. “You held your own pretty well for a non-Mage,” she said to Chenxue. Darkness magic was all about absorbing magic and releasing it, but


his cloth could only absorb. It was a shield that had the strength of a tablecloth against anything that wasn’t magic. “You know, I get it.”

“Get what?” Chenxue asked, �nally giving up on moving any of the rocks. “I never felt like…enough for my parents. Not that they weren’t happy with me, but I always

felt like I should be doing more, that I needed to be more. And that guilt, it dragged everything about me down. At the bar, even before that…I thought I was paying some kind of penance. There was an absurd kind of self-righteousness in it. But all it really was doing was preventing me from being better, from truly improving. I was feeling, but I wasn’t acting. Chenxue, I’ve seen you do some pretty incredible things as a non-Mage with a magical safety blanket. You’re a damn good �ghter, and you make some mean cocktails. And you can be more than your regret, and you can be more than your past. More than some cloth. But you refuse to let yourself be those things. You need to let go.” She closed the empty water bottle. “We’re all still alive, aren’t we? And we found a Battery that was gone for centuries with a pile of books and our brains. Come on, Chenxue. Just for a day, I want to see the you that you always thought you could never be.” Xialing looked hopefully at Chenxue. The speech was only half for him. Now that Roger had so many Batteries, the apocalypse was sure to follow. It was hard not to lie down and just give up.

“Alright. Let’s start with what we know.” “He said it, he said the thing,” Mika croaked from the corner. Xialing laughed, for what felt like the �rst time in years. “We fell at least 20 feet. We could be

completely sealed in, or not, but either way, we should assume we’re running out of oxygen. We’ve got a Fire Mage with an ample but limited supply of powder, we have an Air Mage—”

“Incapacitated,” Mika said. “—Right. We have an ice-breathing dragon up above—” “Hello,” Hvild said. “—And we have you.” “I got blasted by Viper.” “That you did,” Xialing said, slightly confused. Chenxue paced along the wall, moving up and down the small room. “But not by the �re. My

cloak absorbed the �re. It was the shockwave. Rapidly heated air . . .” “I’m �attered, Chenxue, but I can’t make �re hot enough to cause thunder,” Xialing said. “Xialing, from how far away can you make �re?” “Depends on how much powder I use.” “How about all of it?” Xialing looked to Mika, who looked back in a panic. “At least the full width of the room.” “Let’s try to move away from the cave-in.” Chenxue gently moved Mika several feet away from

the large pile of rocks. “Hvild! I want you to blast as much ice as possible towards us!” “I told you, it’s not strong enough to break rock,” he growled through the stone. “That’s alright, just try to get the ice as far in as it can,” Chenxue said, looking intently at the

wall of rocks. There was the mu�ed sound of air being inhaled, and then an explosion, the sound of


crinkling ice and frost. Slowly and gradually, small spikes of ice began to make their way through the cracks between the rocks, like sprouting mushrooms, before they stopped, completely sealing any gaps in the wall.

“It’s done,” Hvild said from above. The three of them looked in awe. “Well, I guess we did have access to oxygen. Well, had ,” Mika

said. “Now we have ice. What’s the plan here?” Xialing asked. “We don’t need the ice so much as we need the water,” Chenxue said with a grin. “Combine

that with your �re, and we can make—” “A steam explosion!” Xialing said. “The spaces between the rocks are so small and rigid that if

we heat the water fast enough, we should be able to build a lot of pressure. Will that be enough to blow this stu� away?”

“It’s our best shot,” Chenxue said, moving Mika slowly to the opposite side of the room. “This will probably use up most of your powders. Do you think it’s a good call?”

Xialing took her position with the others on the opposite side. “Like you said, it’s our best shot.”

Chenxue futilely tried to stack the backpacks and some rocks to form some kind of blast shelter. “How hot can you crank it?”

“Wait and see,” Xialing said, taking out nearly all of her powder. “Hvild, you might want to step back as well.” Chenxue and Mika made themselves as small as possible and covered their heads.

Xialing focused intensely on the powder between her �ngers. The goal was heat and speed. The grains of powder danced to life and ignited, like the �ame of a blowtorch. Xialing dug her feet into the ground and continued to increase the heat. The �re whined and screamed, growing brighter and brighter, from a dull orange to a bright yellow. Chenxue �inched as he felt the boiling air pass over their heads, trying his best to safely see the �re. It was a solid cone of �ames, like a rocket exhaust frozen in time. Xialing was taking the power of an explosion and holding it, containing it. The �re continued to screech, turning a light blue. The icicles protruding outwards evaporated immediately, and the rocks on the slope began to glow orange. The powder was being rapidly consumed to fuel the continued blast.

“Come on,” Xialing muttered under her breath, �exing her hands once more. The �are, originally a loud rumble, burst into a full roar, and the light of the �re turned pure white as it completely engulfed the rock slope. Xialing gasped as the last of the powder was spent and she let go of the �re, collapsing into a sitting position as she breathed heavily. Chenxue looked in awe at the rocks, each glowing bright orange, some already beginning to melt. He wondered what the dragon upstairs thought of the one underneath.

The whistling of steam could be heard pouring out of every crack in the wall. “Everyone, cover your head!” Chenxue shouted. They crowded into the opposite corner, just as an enormous explosion rocked the entire mountain, causing the ceiling to shake. Chenxue winced as specks of boiling water hit his shoulders, but he could already feel the cool mountain air pouring in from above.


Hvild covered the melting stones in ice, cooling them instantly, as he crawled down. “Not bad for humans,” he growled as he gingerly picked up Mika and laid her down on the surface. Chenxue and Xialing were close behind, re-energized as they scrambled up the slope.

“Alright, we’ve got to get Mika to a hospital as soon as possible,” Xialing said. “But her wounds only just closed; I don’t want to move her too much.”

“Can Hvild carry her?” Chenxue asked. The old dragon grumbled. “Not with these injuries.” “Even if we get her down the mountain, Roger’s car is de�nitely gone.” “What about a sled?” “Where would we �nd the materials?” “That won’t be necessary.” Chenxue and Xialing both turned towards the new voice. It was Wanda, accompanied by one

injured guard. She looked exhausted, and her normally neat hair was frazzled. “Leave Mika to me. You two get to the Holy Sanctuary as fast as possible.” She kneeled next to Mika, not even glancing at Hvild. “The worst has come to pass. I don’t know who you imbeciles are, but get there, now. Throw yourselves at Roger if it means you can even slow him by one second.” Her hands began to glow as she placed them over Mika’s wound. “Maybe we were fated for defeat.”

Chenxue looked at Xialing in a panic. “He’s going after the Holy Sanctuary? But that place is practically a fortress; you don’t think he can actually get in, right?”

Wanda stared blankly at the wound she was healing before she spoke suddenly. “If he’s after the Tree of Life, he’ll probably use the underground tunnels.”

“Sister Wanda — !” the guard protested. “It doesn’t matter anymore. In the face of the apocalypse, I think we can a�ord to give up a few

state secrets.” Wanda looked directly at the two. “Underneath the Tree of Life is a network of evacuation tunnels, meant for protecting the Sister if the Faction ever became compromised. If Roger has the Earth Battery with him, I have no doubt that he knows they exist and intends on using them.”

“By the time anyone realized he was in there, it’d be too late,” Xialing said. “We need to tell Leopold now.”

“It would be no good,” Wanda insisted. “He’s lost somewhere between Seattle and Oklahoma City. He says that one of Roger Badger’s cronies used the Mind Battery to create an army of mindless drones. There’s no doubt he intends to use them to overrun the Sanctuary’s defenses. Roger has the Earth Battery, though, so if he’s smart, he will try to breach the Tree through the tunnels. Fighting a person who can use Earth magic underground is a death sentence. That’s where I need you two. Intercept Roger. Bring him up into the surface, where he can’t hide from the other mages.”

“But you just said it was a death sentence to try and �ght him,” Chenxue said. Xialing sco�ed. “Don’t you get it, Chenxue? We’re expendable.” “You’re resourceful,” Wanda corrected. “If anyone can pull it o�, it’s you two.” “You’re asking for a miracle,” Xialing protested.


“Right now, this miracle is all you’re good for,” Wanda snapped. “Tony, get these two back to the Holy Sanctuary as fast as you can.” She looked at Xialing and then at Chenxue. “It all hinges on this,” she said, barely above a whisper as her hands stopped glowing. Mika, her wound freshly healed, stood up shakily and started walking towards the cave exit. “Where are you going?” Wanda said, almost panicked.

“Holy Sanctuary. That’s where the bad guy is, right?” she said. “You’re in no condition to �ght. Mika, please.” Wanda grabbed Mika’s wrist, but she yanked

free. “Please, I can’t lose you again.” Mika turned to Wanda and stroked her face gently. “Then you better hope that we imbeciles

can pull o� a miracle.” Xialing smirked and looked at Chenxue. “Ready to go?” Chenxue crouched to the ground as he put on hand on a black strand that was sticking out

from under a boulder. Instantaneously, the thread began to wind up his arm and around his shoulders, until the entire thread escaped, reformed into his usual jacket. “Let’s do it.”


Chapter 42 Ashton — The New Messenger Ashton sat in a holding cell in Oklahoma City for a long time, waiting for his paperwork to be

processed by Prince Dazzle’s o�ce. At some point, he started to think that maybe Prince Leopold had changed his mind, gone back on their deal. Left him here to rot. That some Wind Mage would show up and throw him into an actual prison. After a few hours, a man entered the room. It was clear that he was of the Air Faction.

The man then introduced himself as Mr. Carter. He was ordered to release Ashton and transport him to another building. He wasn’t sure what had happened politically, but the order had come directly from President Gustough.

Mr. Carter led him down various halls that were blindingly bright. Even though he wasn’t cu�ed, the Air Faction clearly didn’t want any hiccups. He still felt like a prisoner. They walked by empty hallways until �nally, they came before a small door at the end of the path. A small door lay ahead. Beside the door was a small hatch that Mr. Carter approached. He placed his palm on it and Ashton heard the door click.

The door led outside. If the light in here were blinding, then what Ashton saw outside was that of a thousand stars, or of the Beacon, white through even his closed eyelids. He had not seen the sun for days—weeks? It was impossible to tell.

“Am I free?” Ashton asked meekly. Mr. Carter snorted. “Freer than you were a few minutes ago,” he answered. “But you’re not o� the hook, yet.

C’mon.” Mr. Carter drove Ashton to a cheap motel. He gave him a room key and told him to wait

inside. Asthon did as he was told, but Mr. Carter never came. The hours ticked by, and Ashton eventually showered and went to sleep.

The next morning, Mr. Carter barged into his room. In the confusion of the last few days, Ashton hadn’t really observed his warden well. The �rst thought that came to him was tall . The man had to be at least 6’7’’, and that might have been a shy estimate. He wore a business suit that screamed something akin to secret service, and wore an expression that looked more �tting for a robot than a human. Emotionless. An ideal for this paranoid nation. Mr. Carter noticed Ashton’s inquisitive gaze, and spoke in a very monotone voice.

“On your feet. We have to move now. I have ten men waiting for you to start this investigation and we were ordered to move by 0700. I will be back in 10 minutes. Gather everything you need and meet me in the lobby. I’ll brief you in the car.”

“Then—,” before Ashton could �nish his thought, Mr.Carter left the room. “Fantastic. A robot companion as I march towards my inevitable death.” Ashton laid back on the bed for a second, desperately wanting to sleep more, but if he wasted any more time, he had no doubt Mr. Carter would simply pick him up and throw him into the car.


11 minutes passed by. “You’re late,” Mr. Carter responded to Ashton’s arrival in the lobby. Ashton rolled his eyes and

headed towards the black SUV parked by the hotel entrance. There were two more SUVs behind the lead one, �lled to the brim with men similar to Mr. Carter. Ashton got in the passenger seat and Mr. Carter got behind the wheel.

“We’re heading north. Our last report of the Decay users was by the Old Man of the Mountain rock formation. There’s a trading outpost nearby, manned by Life Factioners, called Concord. We’ll need to continue our search from there.”

“Ok. From what I’ve read, Decay tends to leave a path as they move, right?” “Not exactly. Few interact with them, but from the intel we’ve gathered it depends on the time

they spend at their location,” Mr. Carter re�ected, his voice never changing tone. “Well, at least we have a few clues.” They rode in silence for hours on end. The open plains of The People’s Nation of Stratos

slowly faded into the forests of Life. As the hours ticked by, those forests became farms, and those farms became hills, then mountains. Crossing the border into Decay was like stepping into an overgrown forest. There were roads, still, but no cars, or buildings, or civilization. Just forest. Once, they had to refuel, but there were no gas stations. Mr. Carter had canisters of gasoline in the back of the car.

Concord was as expected. A town in the middle of nowhere. One or two local stores provided for the town, and everyone in the town—all Life Factioners, no Decay Factioners—seemed to keep to their own business.

"Even Lux Aterena would be considered civil when compared to this shoddy little town,” Ashton said aloud. At this point, they were hours deep in Decay territory. How the hell did normal people live in this No Man’s Land?

Mr. Carter and the group with him contacted the mayor of the town. “According to their records, the last time the Vox Mortis nomads had resupplied in the area was

two months ago. Usually they return every 8 months, so we can’t wait here to make contact. The mayor reported that they left north of the town.”

“North of the town is essentially woods.” “Yup,” Mr. Carter responded �ippantly. “So, no more cars.” “Yup,” Mr. Carter responded, walking towards the trees north of the town. Ashton resigned to his fate, and started following Mr. Carter. They went towards the cars

where in the trunks there was a plentiful amount of camping equipment and backpacks. Clearly they had been prepared for this escapade, and they’d be in this forgotten land for a while. So, Ashton put a backpack on and with the rest of the men gallanted o� into the wilderness. A few days passed where nothing was found. A few of the men who were brought on this expedition were clearly trackers and led the party through the rough terrain. Ashton couldn’t tell how they knew where to go, but once and a while they would pause their march and look around.


Finally after three days of camping Ashton heard commotion ahead of him as the leading trackers had ordered everyone to stop. Ashton carefully went forward trying his best to avoid the multiple roots and rocks littering the ground. He approached one of the trackers.

“What’s the situation sir?” “Look ahead.” The trees that covered their march suddenly came to a stop as a �eld of open

grass was ahead. The grass however wasn’t its usual emerald green. The grass in the �eld was dead. Yellow and in some parts it was completely black. Obviously nature had been twisted.

“It's clear that we’re on the right track.” Mr. Carter approached Ashton from behind and pointed towards the �eld. Great , Aston thought to himself. A death magic detector. Half-expecting to feel the terrible grip that Decay magic held, Ashton approached the �eld.

Charlie’s magic, when directed towards him, had felt similar to that of a chokehold. What he felt now was a small pull. Similar to gravity in one sense, but only faintly. Clearly the nomadic nation had recently been in the area, and as he went further into the �eld he could see signs of human inhabitants. A small camp�re was in the middle of the �eld. The wood surrounding the pit was rotten, with fungus growing on the outer edges. Small remnants of cloth were distributed around the campsite. Ashton ushered the other men to follow. He needed the trackers to check where next to go. No bodies were found in the camp, but a clear path was leading further north.

They travelled for another three days, the air getting colder and the forest denser. On the fourth day, it was pouring. Rain fell down in a constant stream. The water droplets pounded against the leaves of the forest creating a constant buzz in Ashton’s ear. Every step he made was enveloped in mud as he trudged on. He wanted to curse every living thing around him. Mr. Carter’s cold demeanor had forced him into a restless silence. Thoughts clouded his mind and sleep had been scarred with visions of his past. However, these clouds of thought were split apart by a terrible smell.

It smelled like the rotting corpse of a deer, but tenfold in strength. His stomach, �lled with trail mix, churned as the smell attacked his nose. Ashton saw a clearing beyond the tall pines of the forest. As he approached the smell only worsened, and he spotted the �rst body. Ashton promptly threw up into a nearby tree.

He closed his eyes recollecting his thoughts. He opened them once more, and once more he threw up. Mr. Carter put a hand on Ashton’s back. Even though Ashton had seen horrible things before, he never experienced the true terror of a massacre. The dead members of the Darkness faction simply looked like they were asleep. From a simple look, one could see that these people had died screaming.

They had found Vox Mortis’ refuge. Ashton’s summary of the Faction’s home would be a tent city. In this large �eld, there seemed to be over a thousand tents set up in a gridlock system. An even space etched between every tent, probably eight feet, which could easily house four people if need be. Further down the �eld, Ashton could see a large number of vehicles similar in their systematic placement.


But the city of tents lay silent. No noise emanated from such a large gathering, and the animals of the forest had no voice. The grass that held the city was far worse than the previous �elds. The grass, once green, now held a black obsidian hue. The feeling the Decay users had left in the previous �elds were nothing compared to this pit. It seemed to draw on Ashton’s entire being, beckoning him to lay in its blackened grave.

Even the agents who seemed to never lose composure around Ashton were at a loss for words. A few, like Ashton, vomited from the stench, and one agent simply refused to look at the city. He knelt and began praying to some god.

Mr. Carter looked at Ashton, “We’ll have to enter it. Do you think we’ll survive their residue magic?” Ashton had been at Nox Republic, and felt similar energy during that journey, but this much smaller �eld seemed drenched in that energy.

“I don’t know, but I’ll go ahead.” Mr. Carter raised an eyebrow. “Really? You would willingly go �rst?” “Yeah. Maybe I’ll die. Maybe I won’t. Honestly, I’m surprised I’ve survived this long.” Mr. Carter shrugged his shoulders, “Well, no point in prolonging this. Get going,” he said, gesturing Ashton to move forward. As Ashton moved toward the tents, his senses were still overwhelmed. His eyes could barely

register the bodies that were in every tent. His nose still burned from the scent of �esh. Every moment he walked towards the center, but his legs felt as though they were dredging in mud. It burned his calves to walk on the grass, which crumpled to dust with every step.

Ashton noted that a few tents had toppled over. The dirt where the stakes had been placed were raised, the stakes themselves bent by an unnatural force. These people were undoubtedly attacked, and whoever attacked must have been heavily armed. Ashton drew this conclusion from a few factors: Every tent, even if it still stood, had visible holes. Initially, Ashton thought that they’d been a part of the design, but he quickly noted how random these holes were. His suspicions were quickly con�rmed by a bullet shell he found. Someone mowed these people down.

He had to move forward. He wasn’t sure how long his stamina would last in the oppressive environment of Vox Mortis. His aim was to reach the center of the compound. There was one tent at the center of the camp that towered over the others. He suspected he could �nd some answers lying there. Approaching the main tent, one of the most striking di�erences was in its design. The other tents, nearly identical, only had a slit on a side to open. This central tent, however, had an entire side open, revealing a rather imposing vehicle. The vehicle was comparable to a truck in size, approximately 48 feet long, but was far bulkier. Its sides were painted green and brown, most likely in an attempt to blend in. The head of the vehicle was the same shape as the truck, but had spikes in front, as if to stab anything ahead of it. The main body was where it got even weirder. It could be best described as a giant cylinder, but had a few extraneous bits. A seven foot door with a steel platform leading to the ground was in the direct center of the body. The top of the vehicle had four turrets, which pointed out of the tent and were visible to Ashton. Meanwhile, directly above the door there was a dome of tinted glass.


The vehicle also had heavily armored platings on the side with square cutouts every four feet. They were wide enough to �t a person’s entire arm, meaning that there might have been ports to perform magic.

Despite its impressive appearance, the vehicle was clearly ravaged by an assault. Multiple blast marks marred the side facing outward. The four double-barreled turrets had been twisted and warped so that the main barrels were facing in every direction but forward. The dome above the door was riddled with holes and spider web-like cracks all along its surface. The heavy armor bore multiple burn marks and the tires were completely �at. It might have once been a complete beast to �ght, but it now joined the corpses surrounding Ashton.

Ashton was about ten feet from the vehicle when he noticed a terrible clue. From where he was standing, there lay a line of bullets. To begin with, bullets should rarely form such a neat line. To add on to this suspicion, every bullet was singed black.

Ashton’s mind raced. Clearly, there had been a large �ght with the Vox Mortis vehicle, but whoever was �ghting it had stopped and burnt the bullets from the heavy bullets atop it. There was only one group of Mages he knew of who could produce such a thing: Kingdom Miami’s light shields, legendary for producing a near impenetrable wall. It could only be broken by extreme force. Projectiles would �nd their kinetic energy converted into light as they smashed into the shields. The byproduct of this transformation would be extreme heat in front of the shield, meaning that any bullet would fall and become blackened.

Ashton wanted to throw up again. “Why the hell was Miami here? Who could’ve done this?“ he said aloud. “Damn it! Damn it!

Another damn question.” He needed to get out of this damned land. If he stayed there any longer he might �nd himself joining the bodies.

He ran as fast as he could back towards the others. Breathing heavily, he wasn’t sure he’d make it. Nearing the edge of the tent city, he �nally lost control and collapsed. His eyes grew heavy and he blacked out.

When he opened his eyes, he found Mr. Carter glaring at him. “Why did you wait so long to turn back, you idiot?” Coughing, all Ashton could muster was a whisper. “Leopold. Call Leopold.” Mr. Carter frowned, but slowly took out his phone. “Tell him Light users were in Vox Mortis. Evidence of light shields. Light Mages were somehow

involved. All citizens dead.”


Chapter 43 Leopold — Return to Kingdom Miami

It was a blur. Leopold had only just gotten back to Oklahoma City, to the Congress center, before he was pulled away from Cyrus by his own men, soldiers of Miami, dressed in their canary military uniforms and feathered berets. They draped a similar cloak over him. These were not the men of the Dawn of Light Guard; their uniforms were those of a higher rank, of special forces, probably sent by his father to locate him after he had gone missing, in all o�cial capacities. He had, after all, been o� the grid since his phone had died somewhere between Seattle and Billings, and no one that was still alive knew that he had �own to Seattle in the �rst place.

One of the Miamian men tried to direct Leopold down a corridor, and Leopold resisted, but then Ainsely was there in the lobby, his hand on Leopold’s shoulder.

“Listen, Leopold, you need to come with us,” he said. “We have news from Miami. Bad news.” “Tell me here,” Leopold snapped back, and Ainsley shot a suspicious glance around the room. “Not here,” he said, quiety. “There are too many ears.” Leopold didn’t have the energy to �ght back right now, so he followed Ainsley meekly. He was

fatigued, and shaken, and frustrated from the events of the last few days (had it really been days? He wasn’t sure how long it had been since he had �own into Fresno, and that had been the last time he had gotten a real night of sleep). He had accomplished his mission, and discovered the identity of the person who was collecting the Batteries, but the victory seemed small now, and hollow. Lorenzo was dead. The entire Mind Faction was essentially dead, as well. As far as he knew, Roger Badger had at least three of the Batteries: the Darkness Battery, the Fire Battery, and now the Mind Battery. Leopold suspected he had others, too. The only ones he knew to be safe was the one in The Sanctuary and his own.

Leopold was so frazzled, so lost in his thoughts, that he didn’t realize where he was being taken. They didn’t bring him back to his hotel room, or into the Congress hall, as he thought they might, but instead to the far end of the campus, past the mall, with its goofy sculptures, past the Luftsanft hotel and Capitol Building, to a danker set of buildings, tucked behind the third-party vendors at the outdoor food court. There, in the loading bay was his obnoxious, banana-colored stretch limousine. Somehow, even here in the shadows, its hood managed to catch the glare of the sun, and it threw the light at him.

That sharp, piercing light brought Leopold out of his thoughts and back to the present. “Where are we going?” he asked, and Ainsely again put his hand on Leopold’s shoulder. “I know you like the cameras, Leopold, but we thought we might try to avoid the media just

this once. You’re not in any state to go on television right now.” Leopold knew how he looked, and felt, and...smelled, and couldn’t argue with Ainsely on that

point, but that wasn’t what he had meant by the question at all, and he sensed Ainsley knew that.


“It seems you lost your plane in Seattle, but your mother sent a replacement,” Ainsley continued. “It’s waiting for you at a private terminal at Oklahoma City Interfactional. We’re bringing you back to Miami.”

Leopold shook his head. “No, no, no,” he stuttered quickly. “I need to talk to the rest of the Congress, I need to tell

them what happened...” “Leopold.” Ainsley’s voice was �rm. “The Congress is being dissolved. Everyone knows about

Roger Badger, and what happened up in Neros. Most of the delegates are already gone.” Leopold blinked stupidly. “What...why…” “Because unity’s gone out the window,” Ainsley muttered, now a bit more forcefully. “Moh

and Pyre left. Gauss and Stratos agreed to help The Sanctuary mount a defense against Roger Badger’s forces. Loch too, but their military is a little distracted right now purging the Counsel of Grey from Charlotte.”

“I need to talk to Wanda,” Leopold said, and again Ainsley shook his head. “You can talk to her on the �ight. What’s important now is that we get you back to Kingdom

Miami as soon as —” “Why are you trying to rush me out of here?” Leopold interrupted harshly. Ainsley, probably

sensing the incoming tantrum, took a breath and looked to the ground, which angered Leopold even further. “Orders from my father, aren’t they?” he guessed, and judging by Ainsely’s subdued posture, he �gured he was correct. He didn’t let the man get a word in. “That’s right—how could I have forgotten? He wouldn’t want me here, planning our last defense against the apocalypse. Someone with my—what was it, again?— lack of restraint is hardly professional enough to represent Kingdom Miami here, despite those unbecoming, loathed qualities being exactly what led to our discovery of Roger Badger, or the Battery crisis, or any other piece of useful information from this Congress. I bet he asked that Lorenzo stay here and handle the politics, but Lorenzo is dead .”

Leopold’s skin felt hot to the touch. Ainsley still looked to the ground, but when he looked up now to meet Leopold’s eyes, the prince saw no animosity, or fear, or annoyance there. He saw only sadness.

“I am so very sorry about Lorenzo,” he said. He let that sit in the dry air for a second, and Leopold felt the corners of his eyes becoming wet. He brushed the tears away angrily, but more came to replace them, so he looked to the sky to distract himself, and when that didn’t work, to the tops of the buildings, avoiding Ainsely’s eyes. He felt Ainsley’s gaze on his face, and he felt humiliated, and �nally looked back to him. The tears ran freely.

“I’m —” Leopold’s voice got caught in his throat, and he couldn’t muster the rest of the sentence, so he settled with simply "—Fuck.”

“These were not your father’s orders,” Ainsley said, an apologetic edge still in his voice. “They were your mother’s. Your father’s condition has...taken a turn for the worse.”

The shock of that was enough to knock Leopold out of this state. He wiped his eyes, then the space under his nose, which had become wet with snot.


“What?” he said. “Is he…” “It is, unfortunately, a timely matter.” Ainsley gestured toward the limousine. “There’s quite a

bit of urgency in the world right now, but I think you might consider making Isaac your top priority. We have generals who can draw up the military plans with the Faction leaders.”

The weight of what Ainsley was saying �nally settled in Leopold’s stomach. He nodded, then got into his limousine.

Leopold did not sleep on the plane. A helicopter took him directly from the military base to Castle Miami. His mother had met him there, by the landing pad, on the high walls overlooking the shore maybe a mile away (though, from this angle, it looked much farther). He stepped out to meet her, and was quickly overwhelmed by the humidity. The air tasted of salt and felt heavy on his shoulders. His mother embraced him, and she smelled of a familiar blend of perfume and sunscreen. When she pulled away, Leopold could see that she had been crying.

“You look terrible,” she said with a sad smile. “It’s been a tough few days.” On their walk through the castle, Leopold noticed �ve, or maybe six times the number of

guards. The Dawn of Light guards were there, per usual, but supplementing them were military men, dressed in the same cloaks and berets as the ones at Oklahoma City.

“We’ve quadrupled the guards and brought in the military,” his mother explained to him softly. “I mobilized the army to the border. Roger Badger is going to be coming for the Light Battery, but he’ll have a di�cult time getting his army the whole way down here. And he’ll have to go through the Sanctuary, �rst. Our generals are looking into how we can assist in South Bend. Stopping Roger there would be best for everyone.” Leopold didn’t respond to that.

He planned to visit his father immediately, but his mother insisted he clean himself up �rst. Leopold looked, as she put it, like he had just arrived back from the battle�eld, and that seeing him that way would worry his father. Besides, the king was taking an afternoon nap (he was conscious only in short intervals). Leopold reluctantly agreed.

Their footsteps echoed loudly o� the sandstone walls of these narrow corridors, the same ones he had run through with Lorenzo as a child. He knew the layout of this structure like the back of his hand, but he let his mother guide him through the courtyards and �ower gardens to his chambers. She excused herself, saying she would be back later to escort him to his father, and was gone.

His personal chambers were like a large apartment, with a kitchen, sitting room, bedroom, and guest room. It was where he had lived his entire life, but it all felt so unfamiliar now — the wide, glassless windows with their Mediterranean drapes, the plush leather furniture, chiseled sandstone pillars and simple walls. He had showered and changed from his days-old clothes (the same clothes he had been wearing during his brief escapade into the Void) during the �ight, but that was just to remove the blood and grime from his skin and hair. Now he showered for real, with copious amounts of soap and conditioner. He scrubbed underneath his �ngernails and in his nose and behind his ears. Then, when he was �nished in the shower, he shaved, and plucked his eyebrows, and brushed his teeth again.


He found a fresh set of his suits (the pastel, 3-piece Sin Chadiniers he was so fond of) and put one on. He gelled and brushed his hair.

When he was �nished, the person he saw in the mirror once again resembled someone familiar, albeit with some brushes and scratches. He looked like himself again, even if he didn’t feel like it, yet.

He drank wine while he waited for his mother. It was late when she �nally came. She again led him through the castle halls and rooms, to his father’s recovery chamber. It was sealed o� by a heavy set of mahogany double doors, framed by iron. A set of Dawn of Light guards stood alert on either side.

“We’d like to see him,” the queen said, and the guards immediately stepped aside. Leopold’s heart began thumping in his chest, because he already had an idea of what he would experience inside—that wretched mechanical beeping sound, and that horrible hospital waiting room smell, of disinfectant and decay…

The door opened, and Leopold entered into exactly that. It was a dim room made of stone. Electric lights were built into decorative candelabras on the wall. His father lay in bed at the far side of the room, attached to a series of wires and tubes. He was much thinner, and older, than the last time Leopold saw him. Leopold took a step forward, and the door fell shut behind him with a heavy thunk , which startled him. He turned and noticed that his mother had not followed him inside. He moved forward carefully, as though the �oor were covered in glass.

At his bedside, Leopold could see his father’s features much more clearly: the color from his skin had faded from a proud bronze to gray. His hair had withered away to lifeless straw. His cheekbones stuck out sharply under his loose skin, and his eyes had sunken back into their sockets. His eyes stayed �xed to Leopold, but he uttered no greeting. Leopold coughed in response.

“Father,” he said, keeping his voice �rm. “I imagine you summoned me here to provide you a report of new developments in the Congress and on…”

King Dazzle was shaking his head, so Leopold stopped. “I wanted to see you, Leopold,” his father �nally spoke. His voice sounded as fragile as his body

looked. It pained Leopold to see him this way, and for a �eeting second he considered turning around and walking out, out of here and out of Castle Miami, �ying back to Oklahoma City, where the threat made sense, and seemed tangible and confrontable.

But instead he swallowed the saliva that had collected at the back of his mouth and took his father’s hand.

“It’s a crazy world you’ve inherited, now, isn’t it?” his father said, and smiled. It was a weak smile, but one that made him look a little more himself, and Leopold chuckled.

“No crazier than the one you inherited before me,” he replied. “I always —” his father erupted into a �t of coughing, and Leopold helped pull him into a

sitting position, which seemed to help “I always,” he repeated, “tried to do right by this country. By this whole continent.”

“Yes, of course.” “Now that I’m here, on my deathbed —” Leopold began to say, “Don’t say that,” but his father waved the protest away with his hand.


“—I’ve had time to consider my legacy. Betraying King Gleam, bringing down the Wall of Light. Signing the Peace Accords.” He considered for a moment. “You.”

Leopold laughed, but his father’s face stayed serious. “You’re going to be king, Leopold,” he said, and Leopold’s own smile fell away. He somehow,

amazingly, hadn’t considered that. Throughout his life, he had known he was going to become king, sure, but it had always seemed so theoretical, so far o�. “And,” his father continued, “you are going to be responsible for protecting Kingdom Miami from the greatest threat it has ever faced.”

Leopold tightened his grip on his father’s hand. “I need your help,” he said. “What do I do? Even if Roger Badger defeats the Life Faction, and

even if he has all of the Batteries, he’ll have to �ght his way down the peninsula. We’ve fought this war before. You’ve fought this war before.”

“I lost that war,” his father said, and Leopold shook his head. “No, you surrendered. There’s a di�erence. But this time we can’t surrender. So what do I do

di�erently than you did?” “It’s not the same �ght,” his father said. “This time, you have allies. The other factions will

work with us, not against us. That’s something that King Gleam never understood, and what made him so weak.”

“What is?” “That the people of Kingdom Miami don’t care about being the most powerful faction. They

just want peace.” His father gestured to the nightstand. “Open the drawer,” he instructed, and Leopold did. There was a solitary envelope inside, and so he plucked it from its spot and inspected it. “I’ve always been more articulate in writing than in speech,” his father told him. “Read that after my time comes for me.”

Leopold had no opportunity to respond to that. The lights in the room all turned o� at once, throwing the room into darkness. The beeping machines next to his father stopped beeping, too. Leopold feared the sound of a �atline, but instead he heard nothing. A moment later, the lights in the room �ickered back on, along with the machines. His father’s eyebrows were angled in surprise.

The double doors �ew open, again startling Leopold, and those two guards rushed in, along with two men in medical garb.

“I’m alright…” his father said, but when Leopold looked at him, he saw his blanket stained red. Blood poured from his mouth in great amounts, and Leopold’s eyes went wide. The doctors reached the table and started yelling at one another, right as one of the guards grabbed Leopold.

“You can’t be in here!” he said, and Leopold shook his head, but in a blur, he found himself in the courtyard outside. He tucked the envelope into his jacket pocket.

A group of soldiers rushed by him, and the lights on the ceiling again went dead. The yard was cast in blue moonlight, and this time, they didn’t come back on. Leopold walked forward in the direction the soldiers had gone, out of the yard and down a hallway onto the castle walls.

“Prince Leopold.”


Leopold turned around. Behind him stood three men, members of the Dawn of Light Guard, with their weapons drawn, pointed towards the �oor.

“What’s going on?” Leopold asked. “The city’s power grid went down,” the same guard said. “Castle Miami generators were

sabotaged. This is an attack.” Leopold felt all of the air evaporate from his lungs. “They’re here?” Leopold breathed. He raised his voice. “Is it the Mind people?” “We don’t know, sir. We’ve secured all of the castle’s entrances and exits, but we need to get you

to safety —” Leopold ignored the rest. He turned and ran in the direction of the Beacon—down the length

of the wall, taking a shortcut through the banquet hall, up a staircase, through the powder room, and back onto the wall…

He could see it from here. The Beacon, shaped like a great lighthouse, reaching as high as even the tallest tower of the castle, sat atop a piece of the wall that jutted out over the cli�side. There, from its peak, came a beam of light so bright that you could see it from Pensacola, powered by the Battery inside. Leopold had seen that Battery just once. It was beautiful, a point of condensed, radiant white light, like a star, no larger than a baseball.

But that beam was not there now. The Beacon sat as an unlit obelisk, an empty monument. The guards behind Leopold caught up to him.

“Shit,” Leopold said. “Shit,” the guard behind him said. Leopold turned to face the man. “How did they get in here?” he demanded. “I don’t, I’m not...there’s four times security on all points of entry, forti�cations on the walls,

no one reported any breaches…” On all points of entry… It clicked in his brain. “Come with me,” he told the men, and set o� again, this time back through the hall to the far

side of the palace to a piece of the wall that overlooked a great canopy. The Walled Garden. He had not been in this forest for years now, but he knew every tree and every rock, every path,

every dead end. He navigated it quickly, down stairs and then to the right, through a gap in a thick cluster of thorns, and over a stream on a set of mossy stepping stones that just barely poked above the water. He was headed in the direction of that great pass in the wall, where he had followed his mother—

The bullet came out of nowhere. It collided with the bark of the tree to his immediate right. One of the guards tackled Leopold to the ground, and the others returned �re in the direction of the attack with their own weapons. The night air became alight with machine gun �re.

The guard pulled Leopold behind that same tree. “Stay down!” he yelled, and Leopold had no response, but a second later a red, coin-sized dot

appeared in that soldier’s head, and blood sprayed onto Leopold’s face. The soldier slumped to the side,


dead. Leopold dared to peak around the side of the tree, and he saw that another of the soldiers was down, writhing on the ground and calling out in pain. The third took cover on an adjacent tree, poking out and laying down �re.

A second later, it became clear that the attacker was no longer �ring at them, and the remaining soldier pulled his comrade back behind the tree.

“Stay still, Phil,” he said through gritted teeth. Leopold saw a great red patch on the wounded soldier’s right thigh.

“Where’s back-up?” Leopold asked, and the soldier shook his head. “They’re on the way,” he said. “But right now, you need to get out of here, Prince Leopold.”

He turned his attention back to his friend, who continued to moan helplessly. “Stay with me there, Phil.”

They wouldn’t be there soon enough. Leopold snatched a ri�e from the ground and ran forward, in the direction of the passage. The soldier called something after him, but Leopold didn’t hear it, and an alarm started blaring somewhere behind him. He ran a distance forward, then down that overgrown slope and through the mulberry bushes lining the wall. He was outside, then, outlooking that great hill before the beach.

Someone else, just a shadow in the nighttime light, was on that hill, running toward the water, and Leopold slung the ri�e’s strap over his shoulder and set o� in hot pursuit, the thing bobbing against his back behind him. The assailant was far ahead, but Leopold was fast, and he made up the ground quickly. When he was in what was thought to be a reasonable distance, he pulled the ri�e from his back and �red it wildly in the assailant’s direction.

The recoil was stronger than he expected, and he missed his shots, but he held down the trigger until the gun clicked empty. The assailant threw themselves to the ground for cover, then returned �re a moment later. Leopold threw up a light shield to defend himself.

Leopold used the opportunity to take stock of the situation. The assailant was dressed entirely in black, with a hood over their head, a ski mask on their face. The only unprotected region of their body was their eyes. They had a sort of mysterious glint to them, the color of mustard. He was a Light Mage.

Leopold only now noticed how ill-equipped he was for this confrontation. He had no weapon. No real melee skills. He threw a yellow disk of light at the assailant, hoping to knock him o� of his feet. The trick worked, and the man collapsed. Leopold rushed in, hoping to get a few good kicks on him before he could recover, but before he got close, the assailant reached into his jacket and withdrew that glowing orb. The Light Battery. He �icked it forward, and a light shield fell around Leopold in a sphere, so that he was trapped inside it, like a great big hamster ball. He tried to wield the thing away, but the Battery’s magic was far stronger than his.

For a moment, Leopold thought the assailant may shrink the ball around him and crush him, but instead he just gave Leopold a curious look. Then, in a �ash, he disappeared into the night.


“How the fuck did you let him get away?” Leopold slammed his �st onto the table. The general didn’t even blink.

“Our soldiers were only stationed at known points of entry,” he replied back, equally hotly. “The Dawn of Light Guard failed to mention the secret entrance in the Walled Garden.”

“That’s because it’s a fucking secret entrance,” Leopold threw back. “But the attacker was on foot. You should’ve been able to stop him!”

“The coast guard is still looking, and we’ve set a narrow perimeter. We’re still doing sweeps, but…” He paused, as though Leopold were expected to �nish the sentence himself. Instead, Leopold glared at him. “...it looks like he managed to escape.”

Leopold buried his head in his hands. His mother, whose chambers they were in, coughed beside him.

“And you’re sure he took the real Battery, not the decoy in the display room of the Beacon?” “Yes, it appears the attacker knew about the decoy.” Leopold shot up again. “How the fuck did he know about the decoy? I didn’t even know

about the decoy.” The general looked at him skeptically, but before Leopold could explode on him again, his

mother interjected. “There’s only a handful of people who know about it,” she said, her voice perfectly calm,

despite this new catastrophe, despite the crisis out west, despite her husband’s impending death, and despite her son’s recent demise. “Your father and I. A few of the elite soldiers guarding it.”

“I saw his eyes,” Leopold added. “They were yellow. He was a light Mage. So it was a traitor.” “I don’t know who would do this,” his mother replied simply. Leopold’s phone rang in his

pocket. He rejected the call without even looking at it, but it rang again, and so he checked. Mr. Carter. With recent events, he had forgotten about Mr. Carter entirely. Leopold looked to the general and his mother.

“I should take this,” he said. He stepped out of the room, into his mother’s sleeping chambers, and answered the call.

“Prince Leopold,” a voice said on the other side. It cracked and buzzed with static. “We’ve reached the Man of the Mountain and found the Decay convoy. It’s a massacre.”

“We’re well beyond the point where that matters,” Leopold replied hotly. “Do you have any useful information to report?”

“Yes,” Mr. Carter said. “These people weren’t killed like the people in Saint Paul. They were murdered the old-fashioned way: bullets. It looks like an army came through here.”

“Are you telling me Roger Badger’s had soldiers since the beginning?” “Not just any soldiers. Light Mages. Miamian soldiers. We found a body. I don’t have access to

the Miamian surveillance network, so we haven’t been able to identify him, but I’m forwarding a picture now...”

Leopold checked his phone. Sure enough, an image came through. It was a young man, his skin gray and rotting, but in-tact enough to still look human.


“Is there anything else?” he asked Mr. Carter. He felt a lump in his throat. “That’s it for now.” Leopold hung up, then returned to the room. He tossed his phone to the general, who just

barely managed to catch it. “Run that through facial recognition,” Leopold said. “Check the archives of Miamian service

members �rst. I want to know who he is.” The general looked more confused than concerned, but he nodded his head. “Right away.”

With that, he tapped a few times on the phone screen, set it on the table, and was gone. Leopold picked up his drink, downed the entire thing in one long sip, and turned to his mother.

“Did you know about this?” he asked her, his voice pointed. She narrowed her eyebrows. “Know about what?” She, too, had an edge in her voice. “Miamian soldiers deployed in Decay?” “What?” “The gig is up. I know that our troops were there. That they were a part of the massacre.” “What massacre?” “Stop lying !” He threw his glass at the wall. It collided with a pillar in the kitchen and exploded

to the sounds of a thousand pings . Shattered glass rained down onto the carpet. His mother didn’t �inch. “I’ve been protecting you my entire life. Lying for you. And the whole time, you’ve been lying to my face. Be honest, just one fucking time. What do you know about Roger Badger that you aren’t telling me?”

She stared at him for a second, then inhaled deeply. “I had an a�air,” she said. Leopold blinked. “I know,” he answered �atly, and she shook her head. Suddenly there were tears in her eyes. She

grabbed her own drink and moved across the room. She took a long sip of it, then another. Leopold’s rage melded with a new feeling—dread. And he knew what was coming.

“Don’t you dare say —” “You caught me the one time, when you were just a boy…” she said clumsily, and a bit of wine

spilled over the glass’s rim onto the carpet. “You were so good to me...you never told anyone, just like I told you not to. My good little Leo. I knew I could trust you with that.” Leopold wanted nothing more than to interrupt, to scream at the top of his lungs, to storm into the kitchen and throw every wine glass against the wall, one at a time, and then the dishes, and the mugs, until he was too tired to keep going. But he didn’t. He needed to hear this.

“You never brought it up again, not once,” she continued. “You never asked me any questions about it, and I knew you probably had a million, but you didn’t even ask me who he was. And I’m a Grey, you know.” Leopold didn’t know where he knew that from, but he did; it was never discussed in the family. “I fell in love with your father, and he faked all the paperwork so that the marriage could be legal. But I’m a Grey, and I’ve spent a considerable portion of my life advocating for the Greys. I helped the Council open its �rst o�ce in Miami right after you were born, and the president came for the o�cial opening…I had an a�air with Roger Badger.”


Leopold fell back into his seat. “But this,” his mother said, “what he’s doing now—is insane. I haven’t spoken to him in a

decade. I would never ever give him access to Miamian military support for anything . I promise you, Leopold. I had no part in whatever massacre you’re talking about.”

“You betrayed my father for the man who killed my brother—your son?” he said quietly. “How could I have known…” “And I betrayed my father for you ?” Leopold looked at her with not anger, but contempt. He

thought she might shrink back, but instead she fell forward, her own face now alight with rage. “Your father ,” she said, raising her voice to the border of yelling, in a tone as sharp as a razer

blade, “was supposed to be my forever! He abandoned me, Leopold, just like he abandoned you, and abandoned Miami! The war was hard for him, but it was hard for me, too. It was hard for everyone! As soon as things got di�cult, your father retreated into a shell and left me outside to put the pieces back together. While he withered away mourning his tortured soul, I raised you and Lorenzo. I managed this kingdom—me, the queen , just another plaything for the king , as far as the lords and regents were concerned, with no support at court, no royal heritage to speak of, no heavenly mandate to rule. I would have rather taken your father’s ri�e and stood on the front lines in Fishing Park a hundred times than lead the life that I did. But I did it because I love him, and I love my children. And you’d use my only mistake as a weapon against me?”

It was too much for Leopold to handle at once. He felt the start of a migraine, like his brain was �nally saturated. He had nowhere to properly store this new information.

There was a knock at the door. Leopold welcomed the distraction. He jumped from the sofa and opened it, hoping for anything positive—news that the attacker had been apprehended, or news that the Earth Faction had managed to stop Roger Badger’s advance, or even just the food they had ordered.

The general was there instead. Beside him stood the commander for the Dawn Light. Both had a solemn expression on their face. And Leopold knew he wouldn’t be getting good news. The Dawn of Light commander spoke.

“As Commander of the Dawn of Light Guard, the royal security detail, o�cial protection agency of Castle Miami and her residents both at home and abroad, it is my duty to report to you, with deep regret, that King Isaac Dazzle, �rst of his name, has passed tonight as a result of his respiratory condition.”

Leopold fell backward. He was still far from the couch, and did not land there, but fell instead onto the �oor. His hand felt something wet, and he looked to that spot to see a red spot, the place that his mother had spilled the wine. He heard her sobs now, loud and desperate, but he did not respond with tears. He had none left. His eyes felt very heavy now, and he thought he might just take a nap to the commander’s solemn lullaby of condolences and sympathies.

“Prince Leopold,” the commander said, and Leopold stirred from his stupor just slightly. “Are you alright, Prince Leopold?”

“Yes,” he replied, but his words felt far away.


“You are Isaac Dazzle’s next of kin, and his heir. As of midnight tonight, you are going to be king. Do you understand, Prince Leopold?”

He said he did.

Hours later, before the sun had risen over the horizon, Leopold stood out on the hill, overlooking the beach. He could see from here those stilt holiday homes. The boardwalk stretched out into the ocean like a Beacon in its own right, dotted with the lights of the windows of care-free vacationers. He could see the window he had fallen from that terrible night.

The ocean, too, was dotted with points of light. Search boats. Still no luck, as of the last time he checked. Leopold paced forward aimlessly, and found himself standing in the same spot where he had confronted that man, that thief, earlier.

Leopold’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He let it go for a few seconds, then answered it. “Yes?” His voice sounded lifeless, even to him. “King Dazzle?” It was the general. Leopold thought he might never get used to that title.

Leopold grunted his con�rmation. The general continued, “We ran that photo you gave us through our system. The man’s name was Cli�ord Neas. He wasn’t a soldier.”

That line was potent enough to break through Leopold’s cloudy, murky funk. “Then who was he?” he said. He took another step forward, and saw the moonlight catch on

something in the dirt. At �rst, Leopold thought nothing of it, as he was rather distracted with this new revelation (which seemed to be just another dead end), but the light caught again, so he moved in that direction. The grass was torn up here, and Leopold realized this was the spot where his light disc had knocked that masked man to the ground. He leaned over to where he had seen the glimmer.

“He’s registered with the Dawn of Light Guard,” the general said. “Worked personal protection detail in Castle Miami. For your brother. Lorenzo.”

Leopold lifted the coin from the ground. He brushed a bit of dirt o� it. On one side was Lorenzo’s picture. He �ipped it over. On the opposite side, a naked woman.


Chapter 44 Roger — Redirection “It’s kinda unsettling, looking at them,” Roger Badger said from the upper landing of the

aircraft hangar. Hundreds of people stood in perfectly maintained rows, their eyes spiralling endlessly into oblivion, their �gures completely still save for an occasional swaying.

“Then don’t look,” quipped a man as he walked out to join Roger. “Do they follow your commands?” Roger asked the man next to him. “You bet,” Lorenzo replied. The Mind Battery glowed brie�y in his hand, and the grid of

humans all turned 90 degrees to the right in a militaristic unison. “Though with four hangars full of them, it can’t be anything more complicated than a couple of simple commands.”

They were waiting deep in the forest near the main city of the Sanctuary, organizing their new army and preparing for the upcoming assault. Amongst the pine trees and cold rivers, the atmosphere was intense. Waging war against a faction was no simple matter, and the people of the Sanctuary would most certainly be expecting them. With their resources, they could do little more than try to overwhelm their forcers with numbers. The actual extraction of the Life Battery would require subtlety rather than force. Lorenzo seemed to be digging through his pockets for something.

“Everything alright?” Roger asked. Lorenzo gave up his search with a sigh. “Nothing of consequence. I just can’t �nd my lucky

coin.” “Lucky coin?” Roger said with a chuckle. “Don’t laugh. Luck moves in mysterious ways. I’m genuinely nervous now that my own Lady

Luck isn’t on my person.” “You probably just forgot it in your other pants.” “Eh, probably,” Lorenzo admitted. “Even without it, it seems like our luck is pretty great so

far.” Lothan practically fell through the door in his haste. He was breathing heavily, his large frame

clearly not used to the physical exertion. “Looks like I spoke too soon,” Lorenzo sighed. “What’s the rush, water boy?”

“I’m terribly sorry, Mr. Badger, a complete oversight on my part, it’s really,” Lothan gasped. “Stop apologizing and get to the point,” Roger snapped. “What happened? Does it have

something to do with the Leviathan?” Lothan swallowed hard. “The girl. She’s dead.” Roger closed his eyes in frustration as Lorenzo laughed sardonically. “And I’m guessing the

Leviathan is still awake and well, isn’t it? Damnit, Lothan, I gave you one job.” “B-but I have good news as well! There’s another Decay mage, she’s en route from the

Congress back to the Decay faction. We can intercept her transport, and — ” “Leave. Now.”


Lothan scurried away as Roger turned to Lorenzo. They stood in silence for several moments when Roger suddenly slammed the guard rail with his �st in frustration. “It appears we’ll have to tame the Leviathan once we get there,” he said through gritted teeth.

Lorenzo had hardly �inched, as he was looking at the army below with an intense focus. “Just another thing on our invasion day agenda, right?”

“Batteries or not, �ghting the Leviathan is tantamount to suicide. The whole point of sending that girl Ruth out ahead of us was to put that threat down with as little risk as possible. And now I have to waste my time making a detour for another Decay mage,” Roger sco�ed. “This new girl. She’s the one your brother met, isn’t she?”

“She’s gotta be,” Lorenzo said, almost to himself. “Want me to come with you? This girl’s a real basket case, I should warn you.”

“Don’t bother,” Roger said, already making his way out the door. “Just have the army ready on my command. It’ll be even more imperative now that we keep them distracted above ground.” He paused before descending the stairs. “And try to �nd your lucky coin. Looks like we’ll need it.”

“Roger that, Roger,” Lorenzo laughed. “You ever hear that one before?” “Only a million times,” Roger replied from somewhere down the staircase. Lorenzo made his way back to his sleeping quarters, walking deliberately through the limestone

hallways and deep in thought. Having to deal with the Leviathan the day of would certainly complicate his original plan, but at this point, he was used to improvising. He had spoken with Roger more in the last several days than during the entire rest of their alliance, and he had to admit himself surprised. Roger was through and through a hopeless idealist, but his goals were unsel�sh enough. And these days, unsel�sh people were hard to come by. Lorenzo saw Lothan seated at a folding table, scrolling through his phone.

“Tell me, Lothan. As a Water mage, why are you even �ghting alongside a person who wants to end all magic?”

Lothan laughed nastily. “Water magic never did me any good anyways. Mr. Badger promised me a place on his high council after all this is over. That’s all I need to hear.”

“Of course,” Lorenzo replied. Hard to come by indeed.


Chapter 45 Charlie — Persuasion of Death Charlie was staring at the dull grey of the transport, playing with the handcu�s enclosed

around her wrists. Each day, she had been interrogated and tortured, the people of the Air Faction terri�ed for the future. They had wanted to �nd who was hunting down the artifacts, but Charlie would never give up Roger. He had too many tricks hidden away in his pockets. Charlie didn’t trust any of the factions to keep her safe from his wrath.

The transport suddenly stopped. Charlie’s eyes �icked to the small window, where the driver was sitting. She could hear him furiously whispering under his breath. The door swung open, and Charlie could hear him leaving the transport. A hushed conversation took place outside of the truck. Suddenly, a gunshot resounded throughout the truck.

Charlie sat straight up. Charlie pulled her knees into her chest. It was as she feared. Charlie could feel a thin tear track its way down her cheek. They were here for her. This was Fate’s revenge for the massacre of Decay.

Suddenly, the door to her transport swung open. Roger Badger was standing in the middle of the doorway, stark light streaming in behind him. His eyes furrowed into a line. Charlie pushed back into the wall, trying to get as far away from Roger as she could. As Roger stalked closer, Charlie shut her eyes in terror and started to desperately search for Roger’s organs. Before she could get a solid grip on his lungs, however, Roger’s cold �ngers latched themselves around her right wrist.

“If you dare try that trick, I will burn you.” He held his strange gun to Charlie’s hip, and as her eyes �ew open, she noticed that there was a

small orb sitting within it. Charlie’s breaths quickly became staccato. She could hear her blood rushing throughout her

body. “W-what do you want?” she whispered, eyes widening in fear. Roger’s cold �ngers placed themselves under her chin. Slowly, Roger tilted up, until Charlie’s

�uttering eyes were in line with her own. “I need your help again.” Charlie’s eyes �ew open, and she began struggling as Roger’s eyes stared straight into her soul. “No! You’re the reason why I killed my entire faction! You’re the one to blame! ” Charlie was

aware she was screaming, but the screaming of her entire faction still haunted her dreams. Roger appraised Charlie for a moment. “What if I could promise you the head of Wanda Duponte?” This gave Charlie pause. Revenge on the person who had forced her to lose her entire arm? “I need you to come with me into the Tree of Life. Do you want to know why?” Charlie hesitantly nodded, terri�ed to discover the truth.


“When designing the Tree, the Life Faction knew they had to protect their battery the best way they could. And so, they placed a beast under there, a beast imbued with Life energy. However, because it has so much Life energy, it will kill everything it sees. Except a Decay mage.”

“Because we balance out the Life energy it has,” Charlie gasped in sudden realization. “Exactly. It craves Decay energy.” “So I’m the only person who can calm the beast,” Charlie looked up at Roger, sudden hatred

for Wanda coursing through her. “ That’s why she pushed the Decay faction away. We had our battery, our Decay energy was being managed. She didn’t want us to get the battery .”

Roger shrugged. “Honestly, I think they thought all of you guys were going to kill each other out there.”

Charlie could feel waves of anger and death roll o� of her. She clenched her right hand into a �st and �rmly nodded. Roger raised a single eyebrow.

“I’ll go with you. When we get there, I want to be the one who ends her.” Roger nodded once, and gestured toward the open doors. Charlie thrust out her handcu�ed

hands, intent on them coming o�. Roger laughed. “You’re funny if you think I’m going to release you yet. I know full well that those handcu�s

are severely weakening your abilities and protecting me as well.” Charlie’s eyes narrowed. With a quick hand motion, she had robbed Roger of his eyesight.

Before he could do much more than rub his eyes frantically, she had returned his eyesight. “Just because my decay energy has been dampened through these cu�s, do not think for a

moment that they are protecting you in any way. I am still just as dangerous without that ability.” Roger’s eyes narrowed. Without another word, he turned around and started walking toward a

sleek car sitting in front of the transport. Charlie ignored the bloody remains of the driver as she walked toward the car.

“Where are we going?” She shouted toward Roger. He turned around. “The tunnels below the Sanctuary. We have a Leviathan to kill.”


PART 4

THE BATTLE


Chapter 46 Cyrus — Sixteen As Cyrus and Leopold pulled up to the Congress, it seemed remarkably peaceful. To think, the

apocalypse that was to come was treated as just another day. Their reception into the building went by in a blur. The security forces piled out of the building in droves and ferried them inside as if they were sheep. Important sheep, but sheep nonetheless. Leopold was used to the treatment, and walked almost faster than the men escorting them, while Cyrus resisted. Although these were the good guys, he didn’t trust them as far as he could throw them.

Within what seemed like moments they were both brought before the Sister. It was her voice that snapped him out of the escort whiplash.

“I was wondering where you’d burrowed yourself. Find anything useful while you were rogueing around?” She asked, awfully casual for the situation.

“I did stumble upon a conspiracy to raise an army against the world.” “Great job, now we all know what’s going on,” she said with more than a twinge of sarcasm. “I

told you to stay until we got together with the rest of them.” “Live and learn, right?” “You can’t use that for every single mistake you make.” “I can try.” Cyrus smiled, trying to curry her favor again. After a second of harsh staring, her

face seemed to relax, and she shook her head with a small grin. “That you can. I trust you kept our royal pain healthy?” “He was safe.” Cyrus looked to the prince, or, at least where he was. After a second, he located

Leopold talking to someone in o�cial Kingdom Miami garb. It appeared to be a messenger. By the look on his face, the news wasn’t something he wanted to hear.


Chapter 47 Ashton — Fifteen “What is this?” Ashton said loud to himself as the �re before his eyes danced with the claws of

night. “Why was he here?” It seemed to be the only question he’d been able to ask himself. In what

seemed to be an eternity since beginning his sel�sh quest, he’d seen more of the world than he had bargained for. Now, he sat by himself around a �re in the Life faction. It wasn’t the time to have doubt. Doubt would make him weak in the oncoming battle, but despite his own advice, he couldn’t help but have these thoughts intrude on his mind. Ashton had been certain most of his life on his goals. He saw the ladder before him and climbed each rung no matter the cost, but with each rung he found himself burdened with regret.

“No. No regrets.” Ashton said, correcting his own thoughts. He was prideful and foolish. A dangerous combination for any man, and Ashton had seen that consequence consistently. But, he would never say regret was the reason for his dilemma right now. Every step he made forward had been intentionally and without guilt. Lying to Ruby, abandoning his father, accepting Hayden’s proposal, and every other choice was made on his own. Sel�sh and for his own gain. Maybe the word he was looking for was contradictions .

“Yes, that was it. Contradictions.” He chuckled to himself. His own passion was akin to the �re burning in front of him. Dancing and �ghting constantly. Never stopping to think and moving on even if it destroyed his support. Before he could continue his thoughts, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned his head to see the massive �gure of Mr. Carter behind him. For some reason he still wore his sunglasses in the middle of the night.

“Lost in your thoughts?” “Yes. Undeniably. I’m about to �ght a war for people I despise against creatures that I can’t

even describe. My thoughts are a bit clouded.” “Not healthy to do before a �ght.” Mr. Carter said nonchalantly as he pulled a chair next to

Ashton’s �re. “As if I didn’t know that. I can’t help it. How about you, Mr. Carter? How do you �ght the

demons in your life?” Ashton’s voice was tainted with annoyance. As much as he tried, he couldn’t �gure out what went through the head of this elite air mage. His expression never changed and he acted seemingly only by logic. And yet, he may be the last person and the only person who’d talk to Ashton.

“Never really thought about it too much, Blondie,” Mr. Carter’s face seemed to bear a small smirk. Ashton was a bit incredulous.

“Blondie? When did that become a thing?” “A while ago. But you were so caught up in yourself you barely noticed the rest of us calling

you that. It's rather �tting, I believe.” “It doesn’t really matter anymore.”


“You know what? You’re an idiot.” “Thanks Mr. Carter. Being called an idiot from a guy I’ve known less than a month is always

what I want to hear.” “Look, I didn’t come here to tell you some inspirational bullshit. I didn’t come to hear your

worries. I’m here to tell you to stop thinking. You’re like every politician, company, or noble I’ve worked with. You think too much and put too much stock into your own intelligence.

“But—” “It doesn't matter. The point still stands that you need to be in the here and now. Demons will

haunt you. The future will crush you. So shut up. Enjoy the �re and the night sky. I need you to be a shield tomorrow and your little pity act wastes my time. I wanna live and so do you. “

“But—” Ashton was cut o� again this time by Mr. Carter raising his hand. He looked directly at Ashton.

“You might die and you might live. It doesn’t matter. Deal with it.” “I thought you didn’t want to make an inspirational speech.” “Do you feel inspired?” Mr. Carter then turned to the �re and remained silent for the rest of

the night. Ashton looked once more into the �re. He did think too much. He saw a small patch of grass

that seemed to be wilting. He drew on his magic and let it course into his �ngertips. The grass was bathed in light. Ashton smiled.


Chapter 48 Eleanor — Fourteen Everything felt so unreal as Ireland pried her o� of Ruth’s body. She tried to hold onto Ruth's

cold hand, but eventually it slipped away. She barely registered Ruth's body being picked up by someone and placed into the Tree. She felt someone gently put her hand against the jagged corners of the trunk. The large hole began to shrink and �nally closed with a loud pop.

All Eleanor could register was Ruth’s last words, her as a coward, and how she failed. Again. She felt herself being dragged into her house. I let her down again , thought Eleanor. Why

couldn’t she have been stronger, a little bit braver, quicker ? This train of thought repeated itself in her mind like a mantra.

Failure. She was such a fucking failure. She felt someone wrap a blanket around her. She didn’t deserve the power to heal— if she couldn’t save Ruth, then she wouldn’t be able to

save anyone else. Everything she had believed to be true about herself was false. She was not sel�ess, not brave, not powerful. She was a mess. A coward. Someone who ran when things got di�cult.

The sound of glass making contact with wood found its way to her ears. “Drink,” she heard a soft voice coming from her left.

Coward. A plate with some chicken and mashed potatoes slid to her end of the table. “Eat. Please. Just...

please.” Eleanor pushed the plate away and covered her face with the blanket. She heard a tired sigh and the sound of footsteps clicking on the kitchen tiles.

Sel�sh. Idiotic. Damaged goods. A coward.

Ireland tried to get her to eat something once again, but she refused, only shaking her head every once in a while. At last, Ireland got Eleanor to �nally have some soup and bread. With her stomach full, yet her mind full of grief and anger, she fell asleep.

*** When Eleanor �nally woke up, she just lay strewn across the couch. She couldn’t bring herself

to move. Every bone in her body was frozen as her mind continued to grieve over the loss of her sister. The loss �nally hit her full force and tears poured down her cheeks as the images played out in her mind. Ruth being held against the Tree and being forced to use her power. The Tree slightly opening up before Ruth’s body hitting the ground, her life force shrinking with every minute that passed by.


Eleanor sat there for a while, trying not to panic as she realized Ireland was nowhere to be found. She swung her legs over and stood up. She felt the cold wood beneath her bare feet.

That's when she heard the sound of gunshots. And picked up the smell of burning �esh.

She slowly made her way to the door and opened it. Eleanor stepped out onto the porch and took a look around. She immediately wished that she hadn’t. There was so much bloodshed— what seemed to be more than forty people laying on the ground near the Tree, covered in bullets and burns. Eleanor didn’t know how she thought it would be once she opened the door, but this hadn’t been it.

“Fuck,” she thought.


Chapter 49 Leopold — Thirteen Leopold sat a distance away from his soldiers, who themselves were already positioned a

distance away from the other armies; Light, he had reminded everyone in words that sounded more his father’s than his own, was a defensive magic. His Mages would be of little use in the vanguard. Instead, his military had been divided into two armies and sent to act as guard on the northern and southern �anks of the city, just in case Roger Badger should try to catch them o� guard. If that were to happen, his armies’ light shields could hold a defensive line while the other factions repositioned their own units.

Leopold had gone with the north army, and another general, the son of some noble in Lux Aeterna or Jacksonville or Pensacola, had taken the south one. Leopold had spent the night reading over Roger Badger’s past, none of which indicated that the man knew the slightest about military strategy. But even Lorenzo would know that a frontal attack would be the best course of action with Roger’s number advantage, and so that would mean it would be a quiet night here on the northern �ank.

Leopold held the coin out in front of him. He had �dgeted with the thing so much that the seal had become loose and the fold weak and �imsy, but he still hadn’t opened it. He still hadn’t read it. Surely there wouldn’t be a better time than tonight (the world as he knew it could be over tomorrow, after all), but on that paper were his father’s �nal words to him, and leaving them unread gave his father a sort of in�nity, like Schrödinger’s Cat, or like pausing before the �nal page of a great novel; as long as there was no �nal period, no de�nite conclusion, then the story still lived .

And so he had sat here with his �ngers set uncertainly on the seal of the envelope for hours, perched on the top stones of the crumbling garden wall that separated this home’s tulips from the overgrown hill and retention pond beyond it, as the sun had fallen slowly from the sky. It sat now right on the horizon, painting the sky in gentle pastels—not the vibrant pinks and reds of the Miami sunset, but soft oranges and blues, with dark purple clouds. No, not quite as brilliant as those at home, but beautiful in its own right.

Leopold tucked the letter back into his jacket pocket. It would be too dark to read here now, anyway. And he wasn’t quite ready. He imagined what his father might have written inside, the dialogue he might have with him if he were sitting next to Leopold on this wall:

“Leopold, you are going to be okay.” “But how could I be, Father? Hundreds, if not thousands, of people will die tomorrow. Thousands

have died already.” “Remember what you’re fighting for.” Leopold thought about that. What was he fighting for? For magic? “Is magic really worth all of these lives?” He heard his father’s laugh. “Our history is the story of people losing their lives for magic. Losing

their lives to protect their faction’s magic, losing their lives to destroy other factions’ magic. This is no


different. Whatever happens tomorrow will change the world forever, yes, but to children of the next generation, that world will be the normal one, and the lives lost creating it will be just another story. Like what the Siege of Kingdom Miami is to you. Just a story.”

“I’m nervous.” “You bear the responsibility of directing the ballad of history. Your actions will determine the

outcomes of a billion future lives. Not just Miamian lives. You will have but a fleeting moment to make choices that will forever redefine our world. You should be nervous.”

“And what will history think of me if I make the wrong decision?” Leopold felt the weight of his father’s hand on his shoulder. “I wouldn’t be too concerned with

that,” he said. “The thing I’ve realized about legacy is that it isn’t real. In time, history forgets all men anyway.”

Leopold buried his head in his hands and listened to the hum of the cicadas and gentle rustling of the ash trees. A great wave approached them, but the ballad of the night was comforting and peaceful, like the calm before the storm. No better time or place existed in the universe to be alone, which was good, because Leopold had no one left.


Chapter 50 Cyrus — Twelve It had seemed like years since Cyrus stood next to the Mother. He placed his hand on her trunk

and felt the energy rush out. It was as if he could feel blood rushing from that glorious tree to the rest of the world. The life mage surged with power. It �owed through him as a conduit, refreshing all of the energy he had accumulated over the last few days with freshness that could not be described to those who have not felt it. The Mother was not scared, but Cyrus sensed she knew exactly what she was in for. Still, he let her know. Everything had the right to know when its existence was being threatened.

He had shed the trench coat at last. Cyrus felt exposed but quick enough to strike at the speed of a cobra. A set of body armor was o�ered to him, but he refused to wear anything more than normal clothes. There was no point in protecting against bullet wounds. Things Cyrus could heal faster than he could prevent. To enforce this, the life mage had spent more time at the �ring range than the other defenders, honing his accuracy with his auxilifact to perfection. Or, at least, pretty damn close.

“Still di�cult to �nd, I see.” He heard a tiger growl behind him. “Tig?” Cyrus asked with confusion. He turned to behold the majestic, savage beast he’s known

for years. His body glided over the ground almost cautiously, as if unsure of each step. It must’ve been months since he was let free to roam.

“You see any other Bengal tigers around here?” He walked slowly over and sat beside Cyrus. The tiger looked up towards the Mother’s many branches which wound into an impossible knot.

“It must be desperate if you’re given free reign.” “It always is.” Tig laughed, a series of short, low rumbles. “Gonna bite some humies?” Cyrus asked with a laugh. “Only the ones who ask for it.” Time passed as Cyrus stood and Tig sat in silence. As they did, soldiers and messengers carrying

di�erent mobilization and defense orders ran back and forth, ignoring the base of the very thing they were meant to protect. Cyrus sat down beside the tiger, who laid down in a symbol of lax power. He checked his auxilifact. Six shots. In a single �urry, Cyrus could theoretically kill six of the soldiers if all of those shots found their marks. After which, he’d need to re�ll the weapon with his energy and keep �ring. The land around the Mother radiated Life Energy, so he would have to really try to run out of ammunition. He could also drain it from his enemies.

The tiger needed no ammunition for his natural weapons, but could only really take on one at a time. Without any real protection, Tig would easily be overwhelmed and killed either from a �rearm or from a dozen hands all tearing at him. He was the one that needed body armor, but there seemed to be nobody around to make a kevlar suit that was tiger-shaped. Cyrus wondered how many other dangerous animals now roamed the capital without cages or collars.

“You think this is the end?” Cyrus asked, mostly out of curiosity for what the animal would think.

“Maybe. I don’t know.” for a tiger, he seemed very casual.


“You don’t know?” “Everyone around here seems to think it is, but sitting at the base of the Mother, I can’t help

but have a little hope.” He laid his head on the ground, fully committing to his relaxed position. Cyrus could feel the roots of the great tree reverberating through the beast almost as if he was channeling magic. “Maybe I’m just being superstitious, too. For all the talk, the Mother is really just a religion for most of us, Cyrus.”

“She’s going to get a lot more real soon.” There were a few comfortable minutes of relative silence. Cyrus felt that this was de�nitely the

last time he would lay eyes on his friend, but didn’t know what he wanted to say to him. Part of him wanted to thank the beast for not devouring him as a quick snack years ago, but another part wanted to protect him. The life mage wished he could save him from the battle, but knew he couldn’t. The greatest challenge for all living things was coming to their doorstep, and all of them must face the music in some way. After a while, Cyrus sensed a message being sent to him through the Mother. It was the Sister, calling Cyrus to her side. The enemies were getting closer.

“You’re a good friend, Tig.” Cyrus said as he stood up. “I’m a tiger. Get some friends of your own species.” the tiger chuckled. Cyrus smiled as he left

the animal to his ruminations.

Cyrus was transported to the Sister via state-of-the-art 100% green vehicle. Rides in cars were never something he enjoyed. Even now, after spending the better part of the last month inside of di�erent �avors of gas-belchers, he still wasn’t used to the rolling on the ground. The life mage wanted to ride a horse or other animal as transportation, but the Sister’s message insisted on this speed. As he traveled, he took measures of the defenses as he went further from the Mother.

Most of the powerful Life Mages that the Sanctuary could spare were scattered throughout the land, ready to provide services as healers and battle�eld medics. It was the only combat application for most of them. They also coordinated units of trained animals ready to be directed towards ambush operations. The battle had not even begun, but Cyrus mourned the loss of life that it would cause. There was a strange concentration nearer to the Mother, though. Sure, the Sanctuary was uniting with the other factions, but it seemed like they still trusted the last bastions to themselves.

The Sanctuary always had plans to protect the Mother, even those preparing for full scale war and clandestine operations from other factions, but implementing those plans would be another matter entirely. They didn’t exactly plan for a massive assault from millions of mindless foot soldiers while �ghting alongside factions which silently disliked them on the best days. Still, they did their best. Cyrus noted that most of their strategy was just to build forti�cations on top of the land. It really was a war of attrition.

When he arrived at the building from which the Sister was coordinating the defenses, he saw her exit through the door with a look of frustration on her face. Cyrus swung open the door quickly


and walked to meet her halfway. When he reached her, she didn’t even break pace, forcing Cyrus to move by her side and walk back towards the car with a confused face.

“What’s going on?” Cyrus asked. “The army’s approaching. I just left the outer defenses in the hands of the others. You and I are

going inside the Mother.” She said this without looking at him, as if going inside the Mother was a casual pastime of hers.

“Inside the Mother? Why are we not guarding her from the outside? They’re going to burn her to the ground!” Cyrus was distracted by a nightmarish vision of the great tree on �re. That was the only way their enemies could hope to get at the Mother’s Heart, and thus complete their collection of magical artifacts. The Sister only chuckled.

“She’s a lot more resilient than that. Have some faith.” She entered the vehicle Cyrus just exited from, pausing just long enough for him to get in on the other side before motioning for the driver to return.

“If that’s the case, why send me out here? It seems like a waste to send me out here only to send me back.” Cyrus reasoned, getting quieter towards the end. The Sister didn’t exactly appreciate criticism of her admittedly chaotic ways of doing things.

“I want your opinion on the defense.” She said �atly, then looked straight at him. “What do you think our chances are?”

“Well,” Cyrus paused, thinking for a second on the many barricades and would-be soldiers he passed on the drive up. “You probably know more than me.”

“I do.” She said with a smile that calmed Cyrus at its sheer presence. The Sister never smiled. “I want your opinion before we leave the Sanctuary in these outsiders’ idiotic hands.”

“You want me to be honest?” “Why else would I ask you?” “I think we can pull this o�.” “Really?” The Sister smiled again, sending another wave of warm feelings through Cyrus. It

was probably just her magical energy �owing through him, but it was probably something more personal.

“Yeah, really. This many people have never united under one banner before. Even if outsiders are a bit sluggish and weak, there are a few standouts. I believe in them, even if you don’t.”

She gave a little, half-hearted laugh. “I see your time with the Light prince has changed your mind. If you think we’re ready, who am I to argue?”

Cyrus looked at her, confused. “You’re the Sister.” “You’re my advisor, Cyrus. I think if there’s ever a time for you to speak up, it’s now.” “Am I that important now?” Cyrus asked with a slight smile. “Of course you are.” The Sister’s voice was �at. “Now make sure that illegal weapon of yours is

ready. I’m expecting to receive guests from Mother today, and we’d be bad hosts if we weren’t prepared to serve them.”

Cyrus checked the weapon holstered to his chest, �lling it with new energy.


Six shots.


Chapter 51 Ashton — Eleven Ashton was done with this shit. He had travelled throughout the country and witnessed the

genocides of two factions, and now he was facing zombies. If there was a God, then he was sure that he was laughing. A seemingly endless horde had entered the borders of the life faction, and now he was charged to defend a giant tree.

He stood in the middle of the street. A row of men blocking the street. The zombie horde would have to break this line to advance further into the life stronghold. Ashton’s mind was almost numb with the overwhelming situation before him. The only sound that he could hear was the thunder of feet, crushing the ground. Sweat dripped from Ashton’s blond hair. It wasn’t that hot compared to his home in Miami, but the heat seemed to be doubled by the immense pressure of battle. Ashton remembered the look on the mayor's face when he’d mentioned the war. His eyes draining and seemingly dying right before him. If Ashton was lucky, he too might bear the same eyes.

A small metal device was attached to Ashton’s wrist. In order for it to function, it had small needles to puncture and attach directly into the mage’s wrist. It looked so �imsy compared to the ri�es that some weaker mages held. However, the small device was the only protection Ashton would have against the horde. If he poured his magic into it, a large screen both white and seemingly transparent, would be produced. Approximately �ve feet tall and three feet wide, it would stop nearly any bullet and melt any man’s �nger if hit. This was the frontline of their barricade. The light users would need to hold the line while every other mage would lob countless armaments into the enemy.

Of course this would only last as long as his magic remained. The shields, while nearly the paragon of defense, drained heavily on any mage. According to the last war, the Miamians would line up in rows, and while one mage maintained the shield, the man behind him would stab at any enemies approaching. Once the front man was exhausted, the man behind him would activate his shield and maintain the seemingly impenetrable line. Ashton did not have a legion of skilled Miamians prepared to replace any gaps in the shield. He did however have Mr. Carter.

The titanic man would be his support and make sure Ashton fueled the metal device as long as he could. The wind mage was in a heavy kevlar and for some reason still wore his sunglasses. Besides his magic, he also held a massive gun.

A comfort in this apocalypse, albeit small, Ashton thought. Mr. Carter had been silent the entire time. He didn’t stir and seemed to be immovable. Ashton almost wanted to talk to him, but before he could even form the �rst word, Mr. Carter held up his hand. The man did not want to talk.

Ashton looked ahead. The street had cars near the end to force the zombies into open range. They would need to climb over into the torrent of magic and bullets. Part of Ashton wanted to feel con�dent, but thousands were going to crash into the street, and a seemingly endless supply at that.

The thundering steps were getting closer, and the �rst thing Ashton rising above the cars was- “No...”


A small child, no older than 13. A boy with blond hair. Ashton’s ear rang in pain. Smoke blew from the muzzle of the gun right behind Ashton. The little body �ew behind the car out of view.

“Get your damn shield up, Blondie,” Mr. Carter yelled, slightly muted from the gun �re. Ashton shook his shock, and channeled his magic into the device. Sadly it was daylight, so his magic’s potency was slightly limited.

He looked at the cars once more. More heads appeared. Too many to count and of every age. The horde charged. They moved tactically. Spacing left between them as they charged, allowing them to maneuver in response to �re.

Even so, the bombardment of magic �ew through the air. Fireballs arced above Ashton into the swarm. Every moment, magic of every variety engulfed the battle�eld. Lightning �ew down from the sky and struck bodies to the ground. Guns continued a near endless torrent of bullets into the heaps of �esh soon building up. Despite this display of force, the zombies continued an endless approach. Some held weapons and �red continuously towards Ashton.

Bullets hit Ashton’s shield. While the shield protected him, the bullets still had enough kinetic energy that he felt every hit. His muscles strained under the blows.

Soon a batch of zombies had �nally managed to cross the distance and bash into the shield wall. His muscles screamed as the wave crashed into him. The mind zombies seemed to act with no thought at this moment. Their hands clawed against the light shield as it seared their �esh. He needed to focus. If his concentration broke, the shield would fail and inevitably Ashton would be killed. Now’s not the time to think.

The zombies that had reached him were cut down from a combination of guns and magic. For a moment Ashton breathed, but this moment of reprieve was cut immediately down as Ashton saw the next wave of zombies rampaging toward him.

Ashton focused on the hell in front of him. The horde of zombies was coming toward him. Some had their limbs on �re or completely missing, and yet they moved onward. Once more they crashed into Ashton. Mr. Carter braced Ashton as he struggled to hold the line. Even with his support however Ashton could feel his legs weaken. He could tell if this kept up he’d collapse. Mr. Carter seemed to move away for a split second. Ashton’s legs quickly buckled without his support, but before the zombies managed to push him down an intense stream of air came from behind. Mr. Carter was using his own magic to repel the zombies.The zombies crashing into the wall were �own backward and even Ashton had to be careful not to be pushed forward. They were disoriented for a few seconds. Those few seconds gave him enough time to regain his position. A temporary solution in the grand scheme of battle.

The battle raged on for an eternity to Ashton. He couldn’t hear anything. The constant stream of noise had made him nearly deaf. Every muscle was ready to give in at a simple push. Only in combination with Mr. Carter was Ashton able to hold their part of the line. Bracing Ashton and then switching to air magic if the waves built up too large, they both were running dangerously low on magic. Even now, the shield that Ashton had been supplying was growing smaller as the battle went on. Its near perfect rectangle had become misshapen. He couldn’t hold it much longer.


A bullet went by Ashton’s head and the body behind him went slack. The giant that once supported him, gave Ashton no more power. Mr. Carter was dead and with his death was certainly Ashton’s own.

The zombies had been pushed o� by Mr. Carter a few seconds before his death, but they had regrouped and were charging forth against Ashton’s weakened shield.

Right before it crashed into him, a sudden wall of black magic separated the wave of zombies from Ashton.


Chapter 52 Ireland — Ten Ireland gasped, air rushing out of her lungs at increasing speed. She blinked away tears. Flashes

of Ruth appeared beneath her red eyelids. Oh god, she was so young . She placed a hand on her chest and breathed deeply. She looked up slowly. Towering above her was the wretched Tree of Life.

Quite ironic, that name, Ireland thought warily. Such a grand tree, with so many bodies surrounding it.

Wait, bodies? Ireland turned around quickly, eyes widening. There was a large crowd of Nero’s Institute

soldiers marching into the Sanctuary. Their eyes were wide and glassy, almost as if… Oh god. They were all in the Void, and there were more than just soldiers. There were women, and

children, and untrained agents intermixed with the soldiers. They were all moving in waves, meant to overwhelm and destroy.

Ireland reached into her jacket and pulled out a knife. She wasn’t ready to kill her fellow Mind Faction Mages, but she was willing to maim and injure as many people as she could to protect the rest of the army.

She ran into the wave of mind-controlled people, cutting and slashing as many in her way as she could. A small child suddenly stood in her way. Ireland didn’t hesitate. A moment later, the child was laying in a pool of her own blood. Ireland continued on. It became a violent dance of sorts, bloody and graceful in its own way. A low slash here, a high cut there. Bloody bodies left in her wake.

Ireland was working herself east from the tree, forcing a wide path behind her. As she cut her way through, Ireland re�ected on her journey to get here, and the people she had lost.

A quick �ash of Maxim �ashed across her mind. Ireland still didn’t know what had happened to him. He could be dead, or in prison, or in this battle somewhere. She truly did not know. He could be practically anywhere at this moment. Ireland allowed herself to take a moment in her head to mourn Maxim as she continued to cut through the army.


Chapter 53 Eleanor — Nine Eleanor’s heart pounded so �ercely within her chest. Nothing about this was normal. It had

only been a mere couple of hours since Ruth's death. She hadn’t been there for Ruth when she needed her the most. She remembered all the times that she had left Ruth on her own, leaving her with her mother, running away, and for not getting to the Tree of Life in time to save her from being claimed by death.

Two slow, agonizing minutes passed by as Eleanor stood a few feet away from the Tree, dissociating from her pain.

And then it hit her. No one could ever completely protect a person. People dive in head �rst and sometimes that’s the best option, even if mistakes are made in the process. Eleanor couldn’t protect Ruth, because she couldn’t always protect her from all the harm that tended to come in her way. Pain will come sometimes, whether people want it to or not — even with all the protection in the world. She couldn’t save Ruth. But not because she wasn’t a worthy protector, and not because she was a failure. But because of a �ickering twist of fate. She couldn’t save Ruth. But she could save countless others that had fallen in the midst of the battle.

Eleanor grabbed a dagger that had fallen; she closed her eyes and focused on an image of Ruth smiling within her mind. Her veins turned a brilliant shade of purple as they caused nearby mind-controlled people’s muscles to instantly relax and slump to the ground. Eleanor’s eyes landed on a young child leaning against a wall facing away from the Tree of Life, both hands clutching his bloodied abdomen. He looked to be about eleven. She pocketed the dagger and ran to him. “You’ll be okay,” she said to the wounded child. He doubled over, his face scrunching up in pain like his insides were on �re.

“Wha…” The child’s eyes �ickered to Eleanor, watching her kneeling down in front of him. “Can you tell me your name?” She tried to distract him — anything to keep him from focusing

on the pain. Eleanor pulled her sleeves down and draped a moist towel over his abdomen, resting her palms on top of it.

“E-Eliot.” “Now, I need you to be brave, okay? Can you do that for me, Eliot?” He nodded. He tried to

stay strong, but Eleanor noticed a few tears �nding their way out of the corner of his eyes. She brought her thumb to his lashes and gently brushed them away. She resumed the position with her palms and focused on the center-point for healing. She could feel Eliot shaking beneath her; she silently reminded herself that he wasn’t going to be in pain for much longer, unlike Ruth.

The blood started to retract and the huge gashes on his abdomen slid into one another, creating a clot and then a thin layer of freshly formed pink skin. Eliot’s eyes widened and checked to make sure what he was seeing was actually real.

“Now that’s wicked cool,” said Eliot. He scrambled away from the wall and stood up to face Eleanor.


“Hey, Eliot?” “Yes?” “Wanna be my assistant for the day?” A huge smile spread across his freckled face and his eyes lit up as if he had been waiting for this

moment. Eleanor motioned for him to walk with her. Eliot skipped to her side and linked his arm to hers.

It wasn’t long before a medic tent was established and Eliot was assisting Eleanor with the healing of those injured. He placed moist towels on people’s foreheads when they were burning up with fever due to infections and grounded plants into medicine. Meanwhile, Eleanor used her healing powers to slightly heal open wounds, as repeated use of her healing powers caused an exhaustion that could only be replenished through rest; this was something she couldn’t a�ord right now. The sick and injured needed her more than ever. Eleanor plunged deep into her medicinal duties as if it were the last thing she would do in her life.


Chapter 54 Ireland — Eight Ireland drew in quick pants of breath as she ran through the group. As she sliced through the

crowd, her fears for Maxim grew. She knew in her heart that if he had actually been caught by the Nero’s Institute, he would be here, among the crowd. She ran under the shade of a tall skyscraper, and shut her eyes. She began to probe the people’s minds, searching for anything familiar. People lost in the Void usually lost all sense of their personality, and nothing was ever left behind. However, Ireland wasn’t about to let Maxim be lost forever. She was the top Spy from the Nero’s Institute, god damn it! She held her breath and focused. She ignored the �ghting and began to probe through all the minds on the �eld. There were some extremely active people on the �eld, but Ireland ignored them. She focused on the people from the Void, and searched through them, for a single hint, a single sign that Maxim was here. Suddenly she froze. Echoing in one mind was a single phrase.

Your parents were branded traitors in both the Nero’s Institute and the Magical Coalition.” Ireland let out a sob. Maxim, you brilliant piece of shit. When he went into the Void, he

probably grasped at that last sentence and hurled it in with him. Ireland blinked away tears, and focused on the phrase, forcing it to become stronger and stronger until it was so loud in her mind that she could hear Maxim’s own voice screaming out the phrase. With her eyes glued shut, Ireland followed the sound of the voice, trusting that her mind would be able to push away any person who would try to kill her. I’m coming, Maxim, she thought to herself. Just stay there.


Chapter 55 Xialing & Chenxue — Seven “We’ve got another fork coming up,” Centari said. Roger placed his hand on the wall, and the

Earth Battery, a small rock with jagged protrusions of obsidian, glowed. “Take a left,” he said. An emergency network of tunnels for the Sister was a sensible thing to

build, but he never expected that they’d make it so labyrinthine. The electric lights that lined the tunnels did little to soothe the group’s anxieties. A person could get lost for weeks down here.

“Viper, stop looking so nervous,” Centari scolded. “You try walking next to devilspawn over here,” he sco�ed, keeping one eye on Charlie.

Wielder’s cu�s were never meant to be used continuously for this long. By the subtle chill of death that pervaded the air, Viper could tell that their sealing e�ect was weakening.

“If you think it’s bad now, just wait until we get there and the cu�s are o�. Then you’ll see what death really feels like,” Charlie hissed.

“When those cu�s come o�, I’ll be a country mile away. Why are you even here?” “I’m here to show her what it feels like to lose everything. If you want to get caught in the

cross�re, you can be my guest.” “No, I meant what do you do ?” “That’s enough,” Roger said. He couldn’t believe that Lothan would hire those Snake Bay

idiots without notifying him. Their leader was especially grating on the ears. “In the upcoming atrium, we’re going to head straight forward,” he said to Centari when suddenly, she stopped walking. “Centari, what are you — ?”

Wordlessly, she tightened her gauntlets, and Roger saw what she had seen. Ahead, a single person stood at the center of the cavernous atrium, waiting for their arrival in between the large stone columns that held up the ceiling.

“Long time, no see,” Chenxue said as he �exed his cloth. It unfurled into a cloak around him quicker than he had ever seen it move. But it wasn’t just the cloth. There was a looseness to his whole body. His heart beat slowly and with intent.

“Chenxue. I’m glad to see you’re still alive,” Roger lied. He cursed at himself in his head. Although he needed to make it to the Holy Sanctuary as quickly as possible, he should have spared the time to �nish them o� properly. “I suppose Wanda told you about these tunnels?” he asked. What was that boy plotting? They were a swimming pool’s length straight underground. Fighting an Earth Mage in such a con�ned space was tantamount to suicide.

“That she did. Now, if it’s all the same to you, I’d really prefer if you all attacked me one at a time.” Chenxue slowly withdrew his sword. “I don’t think I could beat all of you at once. How about you, sparky lady with the two fax machines on her arms?” Chenxue said, slowly walking forward. “Must have rubbed your feet on carpet for a long time to build up that amount of charge?”

“Oh, this is gonna be fun,” Centari chuckled as she ran forward.


“Centari, no!” Roger shouted. Suddenly, from behind a pillar, Xialing burst forward, almost on top of Roger and Viper. “Shit!” Roger hissed. His hand �exed on the Earth Battery, but he stopped himself from skewering her. They were far too close to Charlie for him to ensure that she wouldn’t be caught in the cross�re. And up ahead, he wasn’t willing to sacri�ce Centari just to kill Chenxue. Even as the battle erupted in the atrium, the true nature of the situation dawned on Roger. This was a hostage situation.

Centari ducked and weaved like a boxer, shooting lightning from her gauntlets to little e�ect. The cloak was a living thing, crawling over Chenxue and blocking any bolt from connecting. Chenxue looked beyond her and saw that Xialing was doing a good job of holding her own. She was much better suited to long-range combat, but the situation necessitated otherwise.

“ We’ll be underground, so Roger will most likely be relying on the Earth Battery first and foremost,” Chenxue said to the others as they made their plan. “He can make walls, he can make spikes, he can make holes. We don’t really stand a chance. But Xialing, do you remember what it felt like to actually hold a Battery?”

“Felt like even the smallest move would unleash a crap ton of fire.” “Exactly. These Batteries are powerful, too powerful to control very accurately. Roger’s at an early

stage in his plan, and the few people he does bring with him are the people he’s counting on to fight with him once inside the tree. He’ll be unwilling to put them in any extreme danger, and he’s certainly not going to risk his own death. Xialing, you’ve got a couple things to keep track of. First, stay as close to Viper as possible. That’ll keep Roger off of you for a while. Second, keep Viper as far away from the others as possible. Roger will try to gather his allies, and we need to make that as difficult as possible. Third, try to stay as close to me as possible. If Viper does manage to shake you off, we’ll need to regroup. And while you’re doing all of that, make sure to keep egging Viper on. We’ll need a lot of fire if we want this to work. ”

Xialing sighed. “It’s a lot of stuff to keep track of at once. But I guess it’s our only shot.” Xialing made wild swipes at Viper with her hands. Black, acrid smoke erupted from her palms,

causing their enemies to scatter even more. “What’s wrong, Viper? Scared?” she goaded. Viper snarled viciously and ran after Xialing, going even farther from Roger and Charlie.

Roger looked around as his group scattered more and more. This was exactly what Chenxue wanted. Charlie kicked Roger in the leg and rattled her cu�s. “Now seems like a good idea to take these o�, don’t you think?”

“No,” Roger said �rmly. “Save your strength.” Roger put the Earth Battery away and withdrew his hunting ri�e. His �ngers fumbled with the ammunition as he tried to change the lightning-conducting bullets with regular ones. Chenxue was the only one who could protect Xialing from Earth Battery attacks, making him the higher priority target. But he was also the one better at close quarters combat, and he was also currently engaging the one ally that Roger needed more. He pulled the bolt hastily and took aim at Chenxue, but he was almost in a dance, weaving around Centari unpredictably. Roger’s aim shook left and right. Occasionally, a split second opportunity would seem to present itself, only to disappear immediately. It was like trying to shoot at the blade of an electric fan.


As much as the cloak was protecting Chenxue from Centari’s lightning, she still remained a serious threat. Her punches were surgically accurate and devastatingly fast; it was all Chenxue could do just to avoid getting hit. “Alright, I’m sorry I called your gauntlets fax machines. They’re more like printers, much more advanced,” Chenxue said.

“Keep blabbing,” Centari said as she punched at Chenxue’s head, more ferociously and wildly than before. Chenxue took his opportunity to weave out of the way and give Centari a push. Her own momentum carried her even further o� balance, and granted Chenxue half a second of breathing space. A thread from his cloak unravelled and wrapped around Centari’s foot when a bullet whizzed by his head, missing by inches. He dove to where Centari was, shielding his head. He needed to stay close.

“Why are you doing this?” Chenxue asked, not really interested in the answer. Centari smiled as she stood up. “Wouldn’t you like to — ” “Wrong foot.” Chenxue pulled as hard as he could. A sprained ankle would at least slow her

down a bit. As Centari stumbled, she used her body to obscure both gauntlets, letting out a surreptitious �urry of lightning, which crawled and sparked o� the ground. Chenxue was blasted several feet back when he saw a glow coming from Roger.

“Duck!” Xialing yelled as she shot a plume of black smoke to obscure Chenxue. The spears of earth, originally intent on skewering him, missed their mark and dug themselves into the opposite wall. “Stay focused,” Xialing said to Chenxue through gritted teeth as she turned her attention back to Viper. The impact of her attacks were much weaker due to the amount of smoke that they generated, but even so, she was managing.

“Give it up with the smoke tricks, they’re not going to work any time soon,” Viper said as he used �re to leap forward, forcing Xialing to retreat from the smoke cloud she had made. It was true; Viper was way too mobile for small smokescreens in such a large room to create any lasting advantage. With a high-pitched whining sound, Viper unleashed another beam of �re, which burned Xialing’s side and scorched the ground black. Xialing clapped her hands together to create a momentary burst of smokey �re, but it wasn’t strong enough to stop Viper from blasting through it with a lightning fast �reball.

Xialing was sent �ying until she hit the opposite wall, hard. She was running out of powder, and she was running out of stamina. Xialing tried to take a deep breath, but the density of the smog in the room only caused her to cough violently. Just one more push. “You sure did sacri�ce a lot of your crew members back at the mountain,” she began. “I thought loyalty was the thing you cared the most about.”

Viper smiled nastily. “It’s not quite as simple as that, my friend.” “Get out of the way,” Roger muttered to himself, coughing. His clear shot at Xialing was now

obscured by Viper. The situation was precarious, but Chenxue and company truly didn’t seem to have any plan. Viper had already overpowered Xialing, and Centari was set to beat Chenxue. Suddenly, a thought pricked the back of Roger’s mind. Wasn’t there usually another girl with them?

“You see, at the end of the day, what matters the most, is what side you pick.” Viper stepped closer to Xialing, gathering an enormous amount of �re in his hands. “I picked the winning side,” he


said, breathing heavily. “And you picked the losing side.” As he launched his �re forward, Xialing responded with a smaller, but equally potent blast of her own, which poured out smoke as readily as water from a waterfall. The two blasts met halfway, sending out bits of ash and burning the ground black. But as the �ames roared, Viper’s �re pushed forward, farther and farther. Xialing readjusted her footing as she backed up. Her back hit the wall, and there was nowhere left to go. Viper’s �re, oppressive and scorching, began to singe her skin as it grew ever closer. It was clear that Xialing’s �re simply couldn’t hold against Viper’s. Not when it was focused so much on making smoke.

Realization struck through Roger’s mind like a bolt of lightning. Without even thinking, and with movements as smooth as river water, Roger took aim with his gun and shot Viper through the head.

Viper’s �re ended abruptly as bits of his head scattered onto the opposite wall. Xialing could only stand in shock at the gore in front of her. “What the hell?” Charlie said, coughing. “Why did you do that?”

Roger didn’t respond as he loaded another bullet and took aim at Xialing. She swore loudly as she threw up another smokescreen and dove to the side. Smokescreen after smokescreen. Chenxue was the bait, the distraction. Roger realized that he should have killed the �re Mages �rst. Both of them.

“C’mon, c’mon,” Mika whispered to herself. She was standing in one of the side hallways that connected to the atrium, hands outstretched. The pure amount of concentration needed to contain that much air in a room was causing her to sweat profusely. “Just how much longer do you need?”

“And what am I going to do?” Mika complained. Chenxue looked at Mika sternly. “I need you to keep a small breeze going across all the exits.

Don’t let any old air escape into the hallways, don’t let any new air get in. With both Xialing and Viper fighting at full capacity, and especially with Xialing producing as much smoke as possible, it won’t take long for Roger to start suffocating. When Xialing gives the signal, compress the smog to about 25 meters in diameter, if you can. We’re going to force them up to the surface.”

“Ashes, ashes!” Xialing yelled with di�culty. She took the remainder of her black powders and started to exclusively make smoke. It billowed out from between her �ngers like the exhaust of a rocket. Roger lifted his shirt over his mouth to try and �lter out the smoke when he heard Charlie cough heavily behind him. If she died, the whole plan would fall apart. He grabbed Charlie by the hand and tried to run towards the center of the room, where Centari was sure to be. The shirt �ltered out much of the smog, but it was mostly useless. There simply wasn’t any more oxygen to breathe in the room.

Mika started concentrating the air into a smaller area as she too ran towards the center of the room. The smog instantly thickened, and Chenxue could feel his lungs start to pound in earnest. He had no idea who that girl next to Roger was, but she seemed important enough. Chenxue ran through the smoke, making a beeline for Charlie, and tackled her to the ground.

“Why you — ” Roger tried to grab Chenxue, but Xialing leapt in between them, letting forth a �nal plume of smoke. Roger grimaced as his vision was almost entirely obscured and even more deadly smoke entered his lungs. All around, he could hear the �erce coughs of the others and their desperate breathing. To think that they would su�ocate themselves for this gambit. He needed to ensure


Charlie’s safety if he wanted the rest of his plan to work. He’d be playing right into his hands, but he had no other options. The Earth battery glowed, and Roger slammed his free hand onto the ground. With a terrifying shake, the entire room seemed to split apart, violently cracked open like a walnut. Xialing fell to the ground as it rocketed upwards, through the remains of the ceiling, through yards of solid rock. Mika’s concentration on the air sphere ended almost immediately as she was thrown to the ground as well. They went farther and farther upwards, breaking through more rock and soil when suddenly, they breached the surface.

“What the hell?” Leopold said as he saw the pillar of earth rising higher and higher into the sky. By the time the ascent of the pillar stopped, they were over thirty meters in the air. The smoke

had long since been pushed away, and now they could all breathe freely. Chenxue looked around in a panic. The plan was for them to get back above ground, where Wanda could send reinforcements to overwhelm Roger. But up at this height, they were completely alone.

“What now?” Xialing asked, half in terror and half in amazement at their situation. “I don’t know, this wasn’t part of the plan,” Chenxue replied, truly dumbfounded for the �rst

time in a while. “Get. OFF!” Charlie kicked Chenxue in the balls, sending him sprawling. Xialing and Mika

regrouped at Chenxue, while Roger and Centari stood by Charlie. Even after only a few moments, Roger could see out of the corner of his eye various mages began to �y upwards to join the �ght. At this rate, they’d never make it to the Tree of Life.

“Centari, Charlie. Take care of them,” he said, undoing the magic-suppressing cu�s on Charlie. He placed the Earth battery onto the ground and focused all of its magic into the structure. With an enormous groan, the pillar shook again, but di�erently than before.

“Something’s happening, look out,” one of the Air mages said to another as he paused his ascent.

“Roger’s up there, we need to strike now !” the other insisted. With another burst of air, he launched himself forward and a wall of stone erupted from the side of the pillar, smashing into him and turning him into a splatter of red across the blue sky. The pillar’s other arm erupted outwards with similar violence, and the entire structure broke free of its foundation with two columns for legs. With lumbering steps, it walked towards the Tree of Life, crushing anyone unfortunate enough to be caught underneath it.

“HOLY SHIT!” Mika screamed as they were nearly thrown o� of the top of the golem’s head. “It’s like a kaiju!”

“Eyes up,” Xialing said as Centari ran forward to engage. The battle erupted anew as Xialing, Mika, and Chenxue all tried to hold against Centari’s reinvigorated assault. Xialing and Chenxue were both beyond exhausted, and Mika wasn’t really able to �ght on such uneven footing. And that was all without mentioning the girl in the back, now unshackled. It was clear to all of them that she was a Decay mage; the feeling of death permeated the air and slowed their movements considerably. If she managed to get a hold of any of them, that would be it.


Xialing tried to use what remained of her powder to defend herself against Centari, but the bolts of lightning pierced through any plumes of �re. “C’mon,” Xialing muttered in mock annoyance as she reached in her pouch and found no more powder.

“Out of ammo?” Centari jeered. With a forward kick, Xialing was sent �ying o� the platform. “Mika!” Chenxue shouted. “On it!” Mika leapt o� after Xialing, using bursts of air to haphazardly keep herself in the air.

Chenxue looked at Roger in a blind panic. The golem was sure to swat both of them out of the sky. He broke into a sprint, preparing to run Roger through with his sword when a hand grabbed his ankle.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Charlie said with a wicked smile as Chenxue hit the ground. Immediately, Chenxue could feel death crawling up his leg. He tried to shake Charlie o�, but his legs were no longer responding to him. Ahead, Roger turned his head towards where Mika and Xialing were falling. The feeling of death had crawled up to his lungs. Or maybe that was just the overwhelming sense of dread. Roger raised his hand, ready for the kill.

There was no time. His heart was beginning to give out, overwhelmed by Charlie’s Decay magic, and he no longer had the energy to move the cloth. It sat on his chest, unmoving. It was waiting. Its job was done. The decay was making it to his heart, to his head. There was no time.

“What are you doing?” Centari shouted, the only one who sensed that something was wrong. “Letting go,” Chenxue said as his vision faded to dark. He took his sword, raised it, and

plunged it into his own chest. Black ink poured out like a fountain. The cloth shook, twitching as years’ worth of Darkness magic all came pouring out at once.

Mika grabbed Xialing by the waist. “Gotcha!” She said triumphantly, not aware of the arm of earth that was mere meters away from turning them both into paste. Suddenly, the sky went black. Centari strained her eyes, but couldn’t see through the darkness.

“What happened? What’s — ” Roger’s sentence got cut o� as he suddenly felt himself falling. Centari and Charlie screamed as they also fell rapidly. As they fell, the blackness dissipated like diluted ink in water, allowing Roger to see what had happened. The golem was gone. Nothing of it remained, not the pillars, not even dust. Roger fumbled with his backpack to withdraw the Air battery.

“What the hell?” Mika said as she tried to restart her vortex of air. Her magic had disappeared when the explosion darkened the sky, swallowed by the shadows. Xialing searched the remnants of the explosion in the sky, but she couldn’t see Chenxue. They landed on the ground as softly as Mika could manage. Roger, Centari, and Charlie were nowhere to be seen. “Not bad if I do say so for myself,” Mika said triumphantly once she set Xialing down. “Where’s Chenxue?” she said, looking around.

Xialing looked up at the sky wordlessly. “I’m not sure. Let’s go look for him.”


Chapter 56 Ireland — Six She followed his voice. As Ireland grew nearer, his voice became louder. Soon, she opened her

eyes. Standing there, �ghting against some Darkness mages, was Maxim, as scrawny as ever. She reached her hand out, ready to yell, when she suddenly fell to the ground. A Mind Mage was on top of her, holding her down. Ireland gasped in shock, and looked at the boy above her. It was Cal Treadmont, the valedictorian of her class.

“Cal?” she asked in complete shock. “What did you do to be put in the Void?” She received no answer. As Ireland stared up at his face, she could see that his eyes were completely glassy. Usually attentive and full of mild displeasure, it was quite unnerving to not see any of that in his face.

“Cal?” she tried again. Suddenly, Cal’s hands were wrung tight around her neck. Ireland grasped at his hands, turning blue in the face. “Cal!”

In desperation, she shut her eyes and tried to enter Cal’s mind. It was so terrifyingly blank that Ireland was shoved out of it. Her eyes �ew open as her throat constricted close. As her lips began turning blue, Ireland shut her eyes again, this time focusing on someone else entirely.

“Please,” she whispered, and plunged deep into Maxim’s mind. She was suddenly �oating in a pure white realm. The Void, or perhaps just Maxim’s vision of it. She could see Maxim, �oating with his eyes shut. She screamed out his name, aware that as seconds ticked past, she was getting closer and closer to death. “MAXIM PLEASE!” She screamed as she could feel her throat getting tighter and tighter. Suddenly, Maxim’s eyes �ew open. He began �oating toward her, until his �ngers brushed her own…

BANG. Ireland’s eyes �ew open at the sudden sound. There was blood dripping onto her face, and as

she looked up, she could see a gaping wound right above Cal’s snobby wound. As his body fell forward onto Ireland, she could see Maxim, standing there with a smoking gun in his outstretched hand. As she struggled to push Cal’s dead body o� of her, Ireland could see that Maxim’s hand was shaking. His eyes locked onto hers; they were no longer glassy. Then his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he crumbled into a broken heap onto the ground.

“No!” Ireland screamed, forcefully pushing the dead weight o� of her. She ran over to Maxim, and pulled his body into her arms. She could see blood dripping from the corners of his eyes, his ears, his nose, and his mouth. Not caring that she was becoming thoroughly soaked in her friend’s blood, Ireland began to tear up. She shut her eyes and ventured into Maxim’s head once more. She could see the white realm diminishing, leaving behind a dusty white trail like breadcrumbs. However, Maxim’s mind was becoming colder and colder by the minute. With a last gasp, Maxim stilled in Ireland’s arms. As Ireland began to scream, she also followed the dust trail left behind by Maxim. She kept following it until she could see a lone �gure in the penthouse. He had curly blond hair and was dressed in the Kingdom Miami royal garb. He turned around and…


“Prince Lorenzo Dazzle,” Ireland said in a dark voice, completely covered with Maxim’s drying blood.


Chapter 57 Cyrus — Five A reverberation of energy throughout the Mother snapped Cyrus and the Sister out of their

stoic guard of the great tree’s central chambers. Both of them wheeled around to what they determined was the source.

“Someone just entered the tree,” Cyrus said. “Someone who was never going to be allowed in.” “Be ready,” the Sister commanded. Cyrus drew his weapon from a holster on his belt and

primed it. Six shots. More energy began to radiate from the initial pulse’s source. The intruders were moving through the tree. With each step, both of the Life Mages were more and more convinced that their outer defenses had failed to keep their most important enemies occupied for long.

“There are three of them,” Cyrus observed as he studied the steady vibrations of the Mother’s energy more closely.

“I know. Luckily, there are three of us.” “I count two, Sister,” Cyrus said. “I have one more failsafe. A secret weapon meant only as a last resort.” The Sister kneeled down

to the living �oor beneath her and placed her hand on it reverently. “A secret weapon? Why wasn’t I told?” “I hoped we’d be enough. This thing is just as dangerous to us as our enemies. Waking her up is

something we’re never supposed to do.” “Her?” “Before the Mother seeded the Earth with the animals and humans, She created the original

Beast, the inverse of Life. She is constantly angry at the world. We’re going to have to subdue her after this is over, but without her, I don’t like our chances.”

With that, the Sister began concentrating her energies on the lower regions of the tree. Both of them felt the tree shake as something triggered movements below them. Cyrus nearly lost his footing in an earthquake-like tremor, but the Sister just rose up calmly when she was �nished with what she was doing.

“How big is this thing?” Cyrus asked, now concerned for his safety. “Big enough.” She took a deep breath, as if performing that action took a lot out of her. The

signals of energy coming from inside the tree continued to come closer, and Cyrus began to notice details about their quarry. The Mother must’ve been enhancing his abilities to sense others’ energy. Two of them didn’t have magic naturally, yet radiated enough power on their own to equal cities full of mages. One of them, Cyrus realized, was Centari. Her gauntlets no longer seemed to be jamming his senses, and now radiated power he expected from a natural Storm mage. The other possessed signals that were bouncing all over the place. It was Earth one second, and Fire the next. All of the elements Cyrus knew seemed to coalesce around him in waves of color. That was the man behind it all, the magicless human known as Roger Badger.


The third presence was a mage, but her powers were being dampened by something. Even so, Cyrus could smell Decay energy on her despite the distance between them. She was the last survivor, and apparently working with the enemy. Cyrus began to get angry. Out of all of the people to survive whatever destroyed Decay, it wasn’t anyone who tried to use their powers for good. It was one who exempli�ed exactly the reasons why Decay was cast out from Life to begin with.

Footsteps entered Cyrus’s ears, and it wasn’t long before the three shapes they were tracking entered the Life mages’ sight. In the center was an older man wearing a strange suit. He had short white hair and walked tall, as if the years had worn him down none. He wore a backpack, which was the source of incredible amounts of energy. This was Roger Badger. To his right was Centari, who looked mostly the same as when they last fought, but with new gauntlets painted sheer black. A large electrical panel took up most of the right gauntlet, holding a large blue box that Cyrus could only assume was the legendary Storm Battery. To Roger’s left was a girl who radiated death and decay in volumes unseen in any Decay Mage Cyrus had experience with. She glared at the Sister, but the Sister paid her no such attention. Her intimidating gaze was focused on Roger.

“So here we are,” the Sister spoke �rst. “So here we are,” Roger echoed back. “It’s an honor to �nally meet you, Sister Duponte. I wish

it were under di�erent circumstances.” Centari just stood next to Roger with a slight smile. Everything was going swimmingly for her

today. She looked at Cyrus and pretended to crack her knuckles. He responded by checking his weapon again. Six shots.

“Mr. Badger.” The Sister paused, letting her energy swell. Cyrus could sense it now for the �rst time in months. It far outclassed what he was able to muster. “I assume you’re not going to surrender and walk away?”

“We’ve come too far for that, I’m afraid. And it appears my team has the advantage.” “It would appear that way.” The Sister’s voice held nothing but contempt. Cyrus felt a large

amount of Life Energy moving below him. Something was moving, slithering, below him. It was larger than anything he’d ever sensed, and by the aura it produced, was angry that it was raised from its slumber. Wanda was stalling, he realized.

“Before we get started,” Wanda said, “I might as well ask: Why do this, Mr. Badger?” “I’ve tried to change things diplomatically. Your governments wouldn’t cooperate. I want you

to understand that this isn’t personal.” “It certainly feels personal,” she replied, her voice level, but icy. “You don’t have to admit it, not

even to yourself, but in this company, we all know the truth. You hate mages. You want to kill them all.”

Roger shook his head. “I certainly disagree with your politics, but I don’t hate you. I have no quarrel with you, or

your people, for that matter. If you give me the Battery, we can end this now, with no violence. That’s all I want.”

“Then we’re unfortunately at an impasse.”


“Are you surprised to see me here, Wanda?” asked the girl that Cyrus didn’t recognize. Wanda’s gaze �ickered to her.

“Charlotte. I shouldn’t be. You’re an enemy of the Sanctuary. A traitor to your own faction. It isn’t surprising that you should hold a personal grudge against me.”

It seemed that the Decay mage across from them had some personal history with the Sister. More and more it seemed the Sister had personal history with everyone. The shape of energy Cyrus sensed grew closer and closer, rising up to their level within the tree.

“Sister, we’ve seen your hand,” Roger interrupted. “We knew about your secret tunnels. Your attempt to smoke us to the surface. We know about your secret weapon. Fighting is futile. I urge you to reconsider my o�er. Give me the Battery, and we’ll call it a day. Things will change afterwards, yes, but I assure you they will change for the better. Either that, or we will burn this whole tree down.”

The Sister was unfazed. “Burn it, then,” she said simply. “So be it.” Roger shrugged again. “Centari, Charlie, take care of them. I’m going to �nd the

Life Battery.” “Finally, we get to the title �ght!” Centari smiled like a crazed hyena before stepping forwards

to get closer to Cyrus. Charlotte (or Charlie, by Roger’s calling) started towards the Sister. However, before they got anywhere, they were interrupted by a massive quake in the tree, stopping them from moving another inch.

A tear in the wood gave way below their feet, and revealed the source of the energy Cyrus felt. It was a massive snake. Its body was the thickness of a freight train, easily able to swallow any two of them whole in a single motion. Its scales were pure white, as if covered in solid snow, and its eyes were just as white. Cyrus could tell that he was sensed by the beast through sheer magic alone, that it didn’t rely on instinctual senses. It charged from the ground as a dolphin jumped above water, and aimed its descent directly for Charlie.

Charlie threw her hands in front of her face, shutting her eyes. Cyrus couldn’t hear her, but he could see her lips move, forming words that he had no ability to translate. The snake-like creature suddenly adjusted its descent, shifting to completely surround Charlie instead. Her small �gure was completely engulfed by the bulbous body of the snake, unable to be seen. Cyrus, originally in awe, simply looked at the exchange in confusion.

“What is she doing?” Cyrus whispered to the Sister quickly. Centari seemed to do the same to Roger.

“I thought I could surprise her with her,” the Sister said softly. “The Leviathan can be tamed with Decay, but it requires an immense amount of concentration.”

“Leviathan?” Cyrus asked. “It’s a giant snake. We thought it was appropriate.” She turned to him, her face now deadly

serious. “Roger Badger is right, though. He came well-prepared for this battle. He tore through our defenses above and below the tree, and he has subdued our greatest weapon. We are going to lose.”

“What?”


“Go retrieve the Life Battery. Bring it to Miami so that our people may live to �ght another day. I’ll hold them back as long as I can.”

“Sister, I—” “Go.”

“What is that thing?” Centari asked Roger. “The Leviathan,” he answered, shooting her an annoyed look. “Maybe if you’d attended our

tactics meetings, you would know.” He waved a hand. “But it’s no matter. We prepared for this. Why do you think we schlepped this girl the whole way here?”

“I don’t know, to give death to people?” “I’ll explain it all to you after we’ve destroyed the Batteries. Don’t let that brute fellow get to

the Battery. I’ll take care of the Sister.”

“Hey, Cyrus! Stop me if you’ve heard this one before!” Centari charged her gauntlet and �red o� a lightning bolt meant to stop his heart. Cyrus ducked behind one of the many corners in the labyrinthine center of the great tree. She had chased him far away by now. There was no way he could protect the Sister from back in the depths of the tree. Cyrus cursed himself for running. Then again, the alternative was meeting the same fate he almost did last time he was struck by lightning.

“Do you know what happens when a tree-hugger is struck by lightning?” Centari threw another bolt, more powerful than the �rst, that arced away from Cyrus’s position and hit the opposite wall of tree-�esh. He peaked out of cover and �red a shot directly for her, stopping her from completing whatever new joke was about to come out of her mouth. As if trained to do just this, Centari pressed some mechanism on her new gauntlet that created some sort of energy �eld, dissipating the energy blast from Cyrus’s weapon before it reached her.

“Looks like you need to learn a few new tricks, Cy. You’re no fun anymore!” Centari yelled as she ran at him, closing the distance surprisingly fast. Cyrus turned again and ran even further into the tree, �ring o� a couple other shots in order to slow her down. However, the shield was put up yet again, and the projectiles simply faded away. Cyrus needed to get back to the Sister. With the power of the other factions behind his back and the Leviathan incapacitated, Cyrus was the only one that could protect the Sister. He knew she could hold her own for a short time because they were inside the Mother, but even then she wouldn’t last long before he overwhelmed her.

“You’re being so quiet, Cyrus! What happened to that voice of yours?” “It has nothing to say!” Cyrus shot once more, and ducked into another chamber in the tree.

He felt a strange feeling in his gut. It was as if he was being guided by the Mother somewhere. Cyrus decided to follow the instinct, putting his trust in the great tree. He ducked behind another spot of


cover just as another lightning bolt shaved o� a piece of wood from the walls. Cyrus re�lled his weapon with the excess energy the Mother was producing around him. He could heal himself with that energy if the bolt struck him and singed his �esh, but if it screwed up his brain like last time, he would be dead too soon. There was no way Centari would make the same mistake twice.

The twisted wood under Cyrus’s feet buckled as a shockwave of electricity vibrated it. He was hurled forwards a few feet, saving himself only by a lucky catch of his hands on the ground. Centari approached him quickly, another lightning bolt prepared in her gauntlet.

“Even inside the tree, you have nobody to call for.” Cyrus desperately emptied the chamber of his weapon at her, only to have all of the shots

dematerialize when that damn shield arrived again. He felt an urging behind him. Cyrus looked there, and a pedestal seemed to slowly form itself from the �oor, rising to meet him at waist level. The top of the pedestal widened out, forming what looked like some sort of old-god altar. In the center, twigs seemed to tie themselves together.

They formed a heart-shaped chunk of wood that radiated so much Life Energy Cyrus thought he was going to explode.

“Mine!” Centari yelled with what was no doubt a wide smile on her face as she let loose another lightning bolt, this one landing squarely on Cyrus’s back. However, unfortunately for her, Cyrus’s hands were already on the heart-shaped o�ering. It was what they both were looking for. The Heart of the Mother. The Life Battery.

Cyrus felt the electricity surge through his body, but it didn’t have nearly as much power as the Storm Battery inside Centari’s gauntlets was able to conjure. It was as if his body ignored it, able to simply survive and redirect the energy safely. No wonder the Mother was undamaged by her attacks, if this was the power behind her. As he grasped it, the Heart glowed intensely, and Cyrus felt his power surge to levels he thought impossible.

Centari kept �ring o� bolts in futile attempts to harm him, the lightning dissipating upon contact. The realization of how much power he just gained hit her strongly, and her face showed it.

“Guess it’s your turn to run,” Cyrus said with a smirk. “Like hell, wonder boy!” Centari’s gauntlet with the Battery inside began to glow with an

impressive blue light. Cyrus could hear (and nearly feel) the weapon cycling up to full power as the charges were gathered. If he had to guess, her next move would be to unleash everything her Battery had on him. Cyrus holstered his weapon. It was not capable of holding the energy the Heart could generate, and if he tried, he knew he would shatter it. Still, even by being within his presence, the Battery was fully charged.

He felt as if he was ready to try Life techniques he only imagined being able to do in dreams. Cyrus reached out to the Mother and found her ready for his commands. His thoughts were simple, more of a guiding hand than an ordering general, as thorny roots began to grow from the walls. In a fraction of a second, he unleashed them, forcing long spikes made of no ordinary wood to shoot o� towards his enemy.


Centari reacted quickly, changing her attention to her shield and using it to disable Cyrus’s control just as the blades were about to hit her. The thorns shriveled, temporary creations they were, and simply plopped before her feet. It appeared that that upgrade was going to be more of a nuisance. Cyrus created another row of spikes below her, which she dashed between quickly. The gauntlet continued to glow with power, and Cyrus got the feeling it was near complete. He �red o� another �urry of thorns while running towards her.

Centari de�ated the thorns as she did before and held the charged gauntlet in Cyrus’s direction. It was fully charged, as could be told by the high pitched noise that the device emitted. He continued running at her, sprinting to make it before she let loose what could be considered the mother of all lightning bolts. However, even holding the Mother’s Heart wasn’t enough to speed him up that much. As he reached forwards to grab her, strange purple electricity began to crackle and coat the gauntlet, leading up to a bolt that was deafening in silence and blinding in brilliance. Cyrus’s vision blacked out.

Roger’s �re absolutely refused to burn the wood of the Mother tree, no matter how hot he made it. He could’ve reduced an entire civilization to ash with the sheer amount of �re he just poured into the shelter Wanda made of the tree’s �esh, yet it wasn’t even smoking. For the �rst time, Roger felt like he didn’t have the advantage.

“Come out, Wanda,” he said. “Hiding will not save you once I have the Battery.” The shelter of sharpened sticks then began to separate, and they �ew at Roger with horrible

speed. He used the time to switch to the Water Battery, creating a whip of water that lashed outwards,

grabbing every other shard before throwing them back to where they came. Wanda, however, was carried to safety by a branch that was suddenly below her. She glided through the air with the greatest of ease. Roger, in quick response, added more water to his whip and consolidated his tendrils, forming a large swath that he used to carve a path across the tree.

Wanda ducked under it agilely, but Roger bent the water downwards to catch her. She was enveloped in the liquid, spiraling in its increasingly violent current. He was going to drown her. Wanda tried to run, or swim, rather, out of the bubble he created but was forced to stay on the ground.

“Wanda Duponte. Drowned in the center of her own tree, the tree in which she murdered dozens of little sisters, the tree from which she watched as my people were cheated and oppressed and murdered,” Roger said aloud as she struggled against the immense current. Wanda gained just enough strength to look up towards him. She was… relaxed. She closed her eyes.

Roger hesitated for a moment. She wouldn’t just accept this, would she? She wouldn’t. More wood started to envelop her at the skin level, climbing from her legs over her face. When it was �nished, it seemed that she was replaced with a wooden statue of herself. One which Roger couldn’t �t any water in. He forced the pressure down on her defensive move, hoping he could get the �esh to crack


and let him back in. Sure, it might be hard to breathe inside there, but if she was fed oxygen from somewhere inside the tree, it was a better situation than the bubble.

The statue got up with an oddly human �exibility and began to glide over to him. The wood it was made of seemed to be constantly replaced, looking as if it were the treads of your average tank. Roger tried to keep the bubble centered around it, but the statue containing Wanda was too quick, and seemed to explode upon exit of the bubble, sending more wooden shrapnel in his direction. By instinct he deconstructed the bubble and caught the shrapnel pieces in another water whip before being blindsided by a wood-backed punch to the face.

Roger backed up slowly, the pain of the attack a little dizzying. His nose began to bleed. It was right around now he wanted the Life Battery to be in his possession to rid him of that sort of pain. He had dropped the Water Battery in shock, the magical powerhouse now lying next to Wanda. She didn’t make any move to pick it up. Roger pretended to nurse his nose while moving the Air Battery behind his back to his hand. In a swift motion, he created a hurricane wind that shoved Wanda backwards to the other end of the chamber yet again. Instead of being slammed against the wall as he planned, the tree seemed to reach out and catch her gently, letting twisting roots and young branches carry her to the ground.

“All of this destruction is your own fault, Sister Duponte,” Roger said as he actually nursed his nose. That punch hurt like hell.

“How did you learn to wield the Batteries?” she asked him, ignoring his statement. “That hardly matters to you now, does it?” “It is a curious thing that you’ve accomplished. A Grey with the power to wield Batteries,

carrying four on his person. In�nite power. You should be more of a threat.” Wanda didn’t seem to be out of breath nearly as much as someone who recently survived being

drowned. Roger leaned over and picked up the Water Battery. “I haven’t had the privilege of years of training.” He summoned the Air Battery from his

backpack, then held both it and Water Batteries in his hand and readied an attack. Roger was interrupted by a solid line of purple energy going through the center of the tree. A

crackling so loud it nearly burst both �ghters’ eardrums ripped through the tree. Centari had tapped the Storm Battery’s full potential, which only meant one thing to Roger’s mind: Her previous ‘engagement’ had the Life Battery.

As if to con�rm exactly what he feared, his henchwoman was thrown back into the center of the chamber by a vine seemingly conjured from out of nowhere. The vine itself disappeared back into the walls of the tree, but not before Cyrus was ferried in by another set of them just like his teacher, Wanda. There was a hole straight in the center of his stomach. ‘Was’ being the operative word, as it was continuously being �lled with new �esh knitted seemingly out of energy itself. In a moment, it was as if the Storm Battery’s power hadn’t even been released through him.

“You think the Battery will save you?” Roger asked as Centari got up. “Now you’ve only made this interesting.”


“‘Interesting’ isn’t exactly the word I’d use,” Cyrus said, voice sounding just a little weak from the toll he just took. “But it’ll work.”

Not waiting for Roger’s command, Centari’s gauntlet crackled with more of the purple lightning and �red o� a spider web of bolts directed straight for Cyrus. His body seemed to spawn tendrils of wood that reached for each bolt and silence them before launching towards her. Roger swung the full weight of the Air and Water Batteries down towards him, creating a storm of semi-invisible blades. Some were made of air, others extremely thin ice that both acted as razor sharp glass.

Wanda was on Cyrus before he could react with another second skin made of tree �esh. The seemingly-impervious material shattered the blades on contact, littering ice shards all over the tree ground below them.

“Finish her!” Wanda said to Cyrus, standing as a stalwart wall between Roger and his �nal prize. He raised his arm to perform more magic, triggering a reaction from Centari to �re o� more jolts of electricity. They were chaotic in direction, a sure sign that she was losing control of the Storm Battery’s increasing power. One of them even nearly struck Roger. A couple of them landed their marks, electrocuting Cyrus.

He felt the sparks �owing through his entire body just as they had in their last �ght. Once more, he felt the electricity in his brain, rewriting what he knew to be true. He faltered downwards, not being able to keep himself standing any longer. The vines growing fast behind Centari wilted just as so, stopping his trick before it had any fruition. Time slowed for the Life Mage as he sensed the Mother’s presence within him. The Heart in his hand began to beat, and pumped more Life Energy than Cyrus knew what to do with. He lost his ability to use his magic for just a few milliseconds, as well as his memory. Those moments were �lled with panic in his mind. Who was he? What was he doing here? Why did everything hurt?

Then the Mother provided those answers by repairing every link in his brain. His name was Cyrus Taltras, known better as Cyrus DuPont. He was here defending the only home he ever knew against the same kind of people that killed his mother all those years ago. The source of his pain was the electricity rampaging through his body as the gift of one he once considered a friend, but betrayed him for the last time.

The vines behind Centari once again rose to life and grasped at her gauntleted arms, holding them back and stopping her attacks as Cyrus stood tall. He leapt over to her, reaching for her face and seeking the spark of life that had troubled him for so long. As soon as he made contact, Cyrus could feel the Life Energy within her resist. Centari was powerful enough to be a Mage like him, and tried with all of her might to stop him, but this time, Cyrus had the Heart of the Mother in his other hand.

Roger reacted to what was in front of him by readying the Batteries in his hands, but Wanda was on him in a �ash with another impenetrable wooden shield. He pushed a massive blast of air and water forwards, linking within it a multitude of more blades, but the shield refused to budge. The frustration of not being able to pierce this wall grew immensely as Roger’s henchwoman’s life force began to dwindle. In reality, however, the force of two Batteries was more than enough for Wanda, the


Sister, to handle. She struggled to hold the wall of wood, continuously repairing it with gracious gifts from the tree around them.

As Cyrus began to feel the energy �ow from Centari to himself, he noticed her body relax, including the arm that held the Storm Battery Gauntlet. Acting in instinct, he had the vines holding her remove the gauntlet and crush it, the device crumbling to pieces around its power source, which glowed more �ercely as if in de�ance. Centari was powerless and at his mercy. Cyrus wanted nothing more than to �nish her o� right then and there, but something stopped him. He wasn’t sure if it was some whispering of the Mother, or some pity for someone he could’ve been an ally to, but he let her go.

Centari keeled over into a coughing �t, seemingly none the worse for wear despite what had just transpired.

“What the—” coughed Centari. “You’re gonna pay for that!” She pounced up at him with a swinging punch, which Cyrus made no e�ort to block. It was nothing to him at this point.

“Stay down.” Cyrus said calmly. The great tree seemed to swallow her up from the bottom, taking her ankles and moving her to the other end of the room, a �xture on the �oor. She screamed and cursed at him, trying to free herself without any success. He had defeated her.

“Now, if we’re done with the theatrics, I think it’s time I’m paid what I’m owed,” Roger said behind Cyrus. He turned to discover that Roger stood behind Wanda, whose body was encased in a thick block of ice. He held a pistol to her temple. Cyrus twitched forwards, which made Roger twitch as well, making quite the threat against his teacher. “You Mages often forget that there are some things more powerful than magic. A bullet kills instantly. Last time I checked, not even the Life Battery can heal death. Now hand the Battery over.”

Roger’s threat was one coming from a man out of patience. Cyrus thought to make a surprise attack, but the �oor around Roger was now coated with ice, and it would take precious seconds to breach that, seconds he wouldn’t have…

Cyrus didn’t need to think, but looked over to the Sister anyway. She struggled, but shook her head in de�ance to what she knew he was thinking. Cyrus sighed.

“This isn’t going to make you feel any better. You know that, right?” Cyrus asked. “What?” “I took revenge, and all it did was create a bigger enemy for myself.” He picked up the Storm

Battery and held it close to the Life Battery in his other hand. “I wonder what it’ll do for you?” Cyrus created one �nal vine and used it to ferry the Life Battery over to Roger. As the Heart

went further and further away from him, Cyrus couldn’t help but feel that he made a terrible mistake. Roger took the Battery in his hand and, without lowering his gun, �xed it into his device. “No matter how many times I tell you people, you can’t get it through your damn heads,”

Roger said. “This was never about revenge . How many people have you sacri�ced, just today, to protect this Battery, to protect your magic? All of those lives, forever extinguished, and now you trade it to save one?” Roger lowered his gun. “Now use it one last time to save her life.”

Roger lowered the gun, and �red three rounds into the Sister’s spine. Cyrus screamed and ran forward. By the time he reached the Sister, Roger built a wall, imbued with stone and wood, separating


them. The ice melted so quickly that it fell from its form as water, leaving Wanda in a reddening puddle. She coughed, and blood came from her mouth.

“I told you to take the Battery away…” she said as her eyes began to gloss. Cyrus shushed her and set to work healing her with his Life magic. He feared he didn’t have

much time left to use it.


Chapter 58 Ruby — Four Running up the hill, Ruby could see the Tree of Life. It was larger than she had ever imagined

it, and more beautiful than all the illustrations she could see in the picture books her parents had read to her as a child. She had never seen it in real life. It was breathtaking, and at any other time, Ruby would have frozen in her tracks, gazing up at the massive tree which normally teemed with life. But there was no time to sit and admire the tree. Ruby could also hear the �ghting. The screams. She could see death all around her.

Ruby had done all she could to ensure she got every last Dark Mage left to respond to her call. She had posted originally on Craigslist, and spread it to every other platform she could think of. She received ninety-three responses. Ninety-three, dear God. If all of this went to shit, that’s it for the Darkness Faction. Ruby felt her stomach drop. She turned around.

She looked at the group in front of her, her heart swelling with pride, with fear, with nausea. She knew what was at stake, and she was sure the others did, too, all ninety-three of them. They all stared at her. Dark Mages from all over the known world responded to her call for action. They had all said the same thing, and every time it broke Ruby’s heart a little more.

I thought I was the only one left , they all said. Damn close. The crowd in front of Ruby looked intently at her, as if waiting for instructions. What the hell

do they want, a pep talk? Her voice cracked as she opened her mouth. “...Ready?” she said, almost in a whisper. They nodded. “Okay.” And they went over the hill.

There was no time for Ruby to think about what exactly she was looking at. They were Mind Mages, she could tell from their appearance. But they seemed… o�. As if all life was sucked out of their souls, yet they continued to live. They were sti�. They stared blankly ahead and didn’t make eye contact. Ruby wasn’t even sure whether the Mages knew what they were doing, whether they had any agency over their actions. But they were trying to kill her anyway. They followed her as she ran.

I’m not cut out for fighting , thought Ruby as she sprinted for her life. But it’s a little late now . She tripped on a root and looked behind her. The Mind zombies continued to walk in her direction, un�inching, as if they didn’t even notice she fell. Ruby put her hand out at them and prayed she had the strength to stop even just one of them. She shut her eyes and felt a small bit of energy draining out of one of the mind mages as she created a pool around her to protect herself. She could still feel them coming after her, closing in on her. She was nowhere near powerful enough to take them on her own. Well, this is it , she thought. It was good while it lasted .

It really wasn’t.


Suddenly, Ruby felt the strain on her hands begin to ease. She opened her eyes and saw that the pool of dark magic around her had grown to many times what Ruby was ever able to create alone. She looked around her and saw three other Dark Mages, concentrating intently on the Mind zombies ahead of them. One of them cocked her head as if to say go, go ahead. I can handle this . Ruby put her hands down and got herself up o� of the ground. She began running toward the Mind zombies, who already looked like they had been weakened. They now stumbled as they walked, and their arms hung limply at their sides.

Ruby never had much practice in combat. She never needed to have the experience. She wasn’t a warrior or a soldier, and she was decidedly non-confrontational. She could wield, and she wasn’t too bad at it, but she was mostly out of practice. She worked as an o�ce temp, for Christ’s sake, where was she going to get the practice? She occasionally made wisps and pools of darkness out of boredom, but the �rst time she had really fought had been with Ashton during the skirmish with those bandits from Loch. Her level of wielding was pathetic in comparison to some of the other Mages she had seen on the battle�eld. But it was worth a shot, right?

Ruby summoned all of the energy within her to create a black wave, in the hopes that it could slow down a few of the zombies. She could feel herself leaching the energy out of them, taking it in for herself, using that to make the wave even more enormous. She felt a shiver go up her spine as she looked up at the wave in front of her. She had no idea.

As Ruby’s wave of dark energy rose higher and higher, she noticed something in her peripheral vision. It was what appeared to be a Light Mage trying and failing to stave o� an attack with a small shield of light from even more Mind zombies. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the brilliant shield begin to dwindle. She heard a blood-curdling scream. Ruby turned her head over to her right, and as she lost her focus, the wave began to diminish and a few dozen of her own Mind zombies fell to the ground. Ruby couldn’t determine whether they were dead or simply unconscious, but at this point it didn’t matter. She needed to help Ashton.

She refocused her attention and swept the wave of energy to the side, stopping the zombies coming for Ashton in their tracks. He tumbled to the ground in shock and crawled away from the massive wave.

“Thank you,” he shouted. He was lying on the ground behind Ruby. “Don’t mention it,” she said, still focusing her energy. “Seriously, Ashton. Don’t try to talk to

me about this.” She knew how Ashton felt about Dark magic. “No need to get pissy with me now, Ruby.” “Just wanted to set some boundaries.” Ashton stood back up and came up to Ruby.


Chapter 59 Ashton — Three Ashton ran straight through the mob of mind faction members, dodging each person as they

came. “We need to head to—” said Ashton, turning his head, when suddenly he ran headlong into a

girl with a head of short brown hair. Ashton rubbed his head as it panged in pain. “What the hell?” Ashton exclaimed. “Who are you?” Ireland cocked her head slightly. “You’re Ashton Illuminate, of Kingdom Miami. I’m Ireland

Glass, a non-zombi�ed Mind mage.” She turned her face toward Ruby. “And you are?” “My name is Victoria—” said Ruby, stuttering nervously. “Like hell it is, Ruby Blakely, last of the Dark Mages.” “I’m not the last one.” Ireland just shrugged and turned around. “Well, I’m o� to commit regicide, if you want to

come with.” “Wait what?” Ashton’s eyes widened. “What does that mean?” “There’s been a certain Light prince who has far overstepped his power.” Ireland’s eyes

hardened as she spun around, pulling out a knife from her jacket and stabbing it into a Mind mage who had wandered too close. “He’s the reason behind this horde and the death of one of my closest friends.”

“Preaching to the choir with that.” Ashton’s memory of Mr. Carter’s corpse was fresh in his mind. “Do you know where the prince is?”

“Of course,” Ireland said, pointing toward a skyscraper in the distance. “He’s in the penthouse of that building.”

“Perfect,” Ashton said, walking toward the skyscraper. “Hang on,” said Ruby, pinching the bridge of her nose. “You want to kill one of King Dazzle’s

sons, and you —” she turned to Ashton “—are going with her?” “To kill the prince? Yes.” Ireland eyed Ruby. There were thin tendrils of dark energy leaking o� of her body. “Okay, �ne. Let’s go.” Ireland led the way as the three marched through mobs of zombies. They traveled ever closer to

the skyscraper. The glittering tip of the skyscraper sparked in the sunlight. They continued to run towards the entrance. The foyer was immaculate. Its walls were made of veined marble and every piece of furniture was �ecked with gold. The trio immediately went towards the elevators that were in the middle of the �oor. The mirrored doors of the elevator silently parted, showing a small room with a large window and gold bars running along the interior. The trio walked inside.

Ireland slammed her �st into the button labeled 69 , and the doors slid shut as the button glowed white. They continued to climb higher towards the top of the skyscraper. As the elevator rose, they could see the city below them. Everything looked so small to them. Ashton had never been so high


up in his life. The city was in chaos. Some streets were completely void of any signs of disturbance, while others spewed forth destruction. The mobs of zombies seemed to move like a swarm of ants. Any street they occupied was constantly in motion, moving as a collective. Ashton could see what streets were being defended as bolts of lightning, �re, and water burst forth constantly. He couldn’t see any individual, but undoubtedly the casualties were high.

“Stop thinking,” Mr. Carter’s voice echoed in his mind. Before long Ashton realized they were on the 60th �oor. Only 9 more left . Ashton turned to

Ireland and Ruby. “What’s the plan?” They didn’t respond for a second. Finally Ireland answered his question. “Use your light shield to block any incoming shots. Ruby will use her magic to drain the

Prince’s magic, while I disrupt him. We don’t know how powerful he is with the Battery, but considering it’s the manifestation of Mind magic, we cannot be reckless.”

Ireland’s plan made sense to Ashton. He had already de�ed death’s grasp once today, maybe he’d be lucky again. Only 3 floors left . Ashton went to the door. He channeled his magic once more into the small device implanted in his arm. The shield surged forth. 1 floor left .

They arrived at �oor 69.


Chapter 60 Ruby — Two Ruby closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she saw the elevator move up from �oor 68.

Here we go , she thought. She remembered Ireland’s plan. She was supposed to incapacitate Lorenzo Dazzle, taking away his ability to wield. If she failed, the three of them would most likely die.

No pressure . The elevator doors opened up directly into the penthouse. A long hallway lined with modern

art lay before them. All the lights had been shut o�, as if Dazzle didn’t want them to know he was home.

She tiptoed through the glamorous apartment, with Ireland and Ashton not too far behind. She passed by a seemingly countless number of bedrooms, bathrooms with marble counters, and a state-of-the-art chef’s kitchen. Lorenzo was certainly living the dream. Had Ruby not hated Lorenzo for what he did to her people, she would have hated him for his apparent rampant hedonism.

Ruby passed by an o�ce, and glanced inside. The o�ce chair was turned to face the glass panel, and Ruby could see a glimpse of blonde hair peeking out from the top.

Oh, for Christ’s sake , thought Ruby. He’s a drama queen too . Predictably, Lorenzo started speaking in a calm voice. “Well, well, well,” he said. Ruby could tell from his voice that he was smiling, although she

couldn’t see his face just yet. “I’ve been expecting you, Leopold.” “What?” said Ruby. “Leopold? I’m not Leopold.” Lorenzo quickly spun around in his chair. His face was in shock. “Curses,” he muttered under his breath. He looked back up at Ruby. “You ruined my

monologue. And I don’t know who you are. But I suggest you leave now.” “We’re not going anywhere,” Ireland hissed. Leopold groaned. “Alright, then, here we go.” He stood up and immediately shot a brilliant beam of light out of the palm of his hand,

creating a ball of light around himself. Ruby approached the shield, and hesitantly reached out to touch it. Although it was nearly

transparent, Ruby felt as though she were touching a solid wall. He was obviously trying to protect himself, and placed too much faith in Ruby being an inexperienced wielder.

Ruby’s hands splayed across the shield, and her eyes slid shut in concentration. Thin black strands of shadow snaked across the shield. As she focused, the strands of shadow pressed into the shield. Lorenzo’s eyes widened as the shadows ate through the light, devouring it.

Ashton ran into the room, surrounded by a blinding shield of light. Soon after came Ireland. She ran into the o�ce behind Ruby and jumped over the desk, her arms outstretched at the Mind Battery in his hands.

Lorenzo threw his hand up, holding the Battery. However, Ireland’s eyes narrowed and suddenly Lorenzo’s arm fell to his side, trapped there. Lorenzo grunted angrily. With his free arm, he


began to manifest a small wisp of light. His eyes began to glow and the wisp of light in his hand began to take the shape of a ball that grew larger as his smile grew ever wider. He raised his free arm and directed the ball of light at Ruby’s head. She did her best to drain some of his power, but she was beginning to grow exhausted. She closed her eyes and put her hands over her head as she saw Lorenzo hurtle the ball in her direction.

She opened her eyes again when she noticed that she hadn’t been hurt. As Ruby looked up, she noticed that she was surrounded by a golden-white shield, and Ashton stood in front of her. He had expanded his shield to encapsulate Ruby.

“You okay?” Ireland shouted over her shoulder at the pair. She placed a steadying hand on the glass panel, as she continued to stare at Lorenzo. Her eyes were still narrowed, and Lorenzo’s free hand began to be pulled slowly to his side. However, �ickering light began to appear between his �ngertips.

Ruby got up on her feet and struggled once again to summon up enough energy to take away Lorenzo’s powers. Slowly, the light at Lorenzo’s �ngertips began to dwindle.

“What the hell?” he said, looking down at his hand. “A Dark Mage? I thought you people had already been taken care of.”

“See for yourself!” Ruby ran forward, channeling all of her magic into her �st. Coated with black magic, she surged forward until she was right in front of Lorenzo. With all her strength, her �st landed heavily on Lorenzo’s face, whirling him backwards towards a glass panel.

“Because.” Punch. “Of.” Punch. “You.” Punch. “My.” Punch. “Entire.” Punch. “Faction.” Punch. “—IS DEAD.” With a �nal punch Lorenzo was stumbling backwards into the window.

Lorenzo turned around towards the glass behind him. Once more he channeled his magic into his hand and shot forth a beam of light, shattering the entire panel. Lorenzo then took the jar in his hand and threw it over.

“No!” Ireland screamed as she threw her hand out. “The Mind Battery!” The brain sloshed around in the jar as it froze in mid-air. Ireland was holding on tightly to the

side of the wall as her entire upper body was outside of the window in an attempt to stop the Battery’s descent. Ruby watched as Ireland’s �ngers started to shake from the strain of using new power.

Ruby stared in muted horror as Lorenzo’s arm pulsated with light as he brought it down towards Ireland’s neck.

“Ireland!” Ruby yelled. She started to run toward Lorenzo, but she was too late. Lorenzo’s arm was only seconds away from decapitating Ireland, but right before the light could touch her, another body collided with Lorenzo.

She saw Ashton slam Lorenzo through the shattered window. Ireland’s eyes began to roll backwards into her head, and she started to tilt forwards into open

air. Ruby ran towards the edge of the ledge and grabbed Ireland at her waist, pulling her backwards

and back into the o�ce. She glanced into the void below her. Two �gures grappled with one another in a free fall, until �nally Ruby saw a small glow of light. One �gure arose with light surrounding their entire body and then began to crawl away. The other lay still in a disgusted, twisted mass of guts on the


concrete. From the 69 th �oor of the building, Ruby couldn’t tell which of the two had survived. Fearing the worst, Ruby sprinted out of the penthouse, into the elevator, and out of the building. Laying on the sidewalk below was one of the Light Mages, but his body was so mangled and deformed that his face was unrecognizable. His brains lay among a mess of blond hair, and the brain from the jar also lay nearby, smashed in a pile of torn �esh and shattered glass.

Ruby lay a shaking hand on the thin wrist, noticing the lack of light shield. Perhaps this body was Lorenzo’s, she thought to herself. She turned her head slightly, and noticed a dark red trail leading away from the building. She heard a voice behind her.

“Do you know which one it is?” asked Ireland. “The prince, I think,” said Ruby, glancing back down at the body. “Wouldn’t you know?” Ireland shook her head, holding a hand to her temple. “My powers are completely gone. The Mind Battery was smashed.” Ireland gazed at the

ground. “All the people in the Void are dead.” Ruby stood up and looked Ireland in the eyes, and took her into an embrace. She felt Ireland

squeeze her and sigh deeply before pulling away. Her mascara ran down the sides of her cheeks. “Come on,” said Ruby. “I think it’s important we follow this trail.” Ireland nodded and the

two started on their way.


Chapter 61 Roger — One Roger looked at the thing in his hands. It was a tender, beautiful thing, soft like a newborn

baby, and it beat delicately, with the muted force of a gentle breeze. He bent over slightly, so that he was on his knees, then put it on the twisted, knotted ground of the tree, right before him, careful not to jostle it.

Then he removed that mangled contraption from his back, the one that had delivered him the Batteries and powered them on command, and pulled it around so that it sat next to the Life Battery. He unlatched the row of buttons securing its top, then opened it, revealing the mangled machinery inside. His device had taken some damage in those �ghts, but that hardly mattered now. He plucked the Fire Battery—that glistening marble—and Water Battery—a teardrop-shaped shard of ice, with wisps of vapor �oating o� from it—from their positions, and laid them in a line next to the Life Battery. The Earth Battery and Air Battery were buried deeper in the mesh of his device, but he tore through the cogs and gears and managed to free them. He set the Air Battery—a stout feather—and put it beside the others. He held the Earth Battery—that splintered rock—for a moment. It was the �rst Battery he had ever seen, the one he had retrieved only by Emily Luna’s sacri�ce. He pulled it close to his chest.

“We did it, professor,” he whispered to himself. He set it next to the others. “Centari!” he called out then. His voice echoed o� the walls of the chamber. She was there in an instant. Her face was bruised and dirty, he noticed, but it was alight with a wide grin. “The Storm Battery,” he said.

“Of course,” she replied. She handed him a piece of amber, jagged lines of lightning still arching underneath its hazing surface. Touching it zapped his hand gently, like a static electric shock, so he set it down quickly next to the others.

“Go get Lorenzo,” he said to Centari. “No need.” Roger turned to the entrance of the chamber. Lorenzo was there, also looking a bit

worse for wear, but with a coy smile on his face as always. In his hand was the Mind Device, notably missing the Mind Battery. He tossed it to Roger, who just barely caught it.

“Careful,” Roger chided him softly. Lorenzo snorted. “We’re destroying the things anyway, aren’t we?” Roger didn’t answer that. He plucked the Darkness Battery from the device and laid it next to

the others. “I got jumped by a group of wannabe heroes,” Lorenzo said. “I had to toss the Mind Battery

out the window.” “Was it destroyed?” “Unless someone scrapes it o� the sidewalk and glues it back together, I think we’re alright. But

that means your army is kaputt.”


Roger heard the soft patter of racing footsteps in the distance, so he shushed Lorenzo and listened. The footsteps were getting nearer, and louder, like a stampede. Lorenzo heard the footsteps, too. He cursed.

“Who is that?” Roger asked, and he shrugged. “Like I said, your army’s kaputt. So probably all of our enemies. Which is everyone.” Lorenzo

withdrew the Light Battery from his pocket. From it erupted a pulse of bright white light. The light radiated across the room to its edges and stuck there like a �lm. It blocked all four of the entrances.

“This light shield will hold them, but be quick about your business. There’s a Darkness mage out there,” he said. Roger took a deep breath and looked at the collection in front of him.

“Here we go,” he said. There was a single side pocket on his backpack device. He unzipped it. Inside was a hammer, a standard thing he had bought at a hardware store in Charlotte. He gripped it �rmly in his hands.

They looked so beautiful before him. In�nite power. Or, perhaps it was this hammer that had in�nite power today. He raised it over his shoulder.

“Progress requires sacri�ce,” he whispered to himself. Then he began to smash them.

The Life Battery Cyrus felt the �ow of Life Energy from his hands stop. “No! Not yet!” He cried, shoving his arms out as if it would help. But it was gone. His powers,

everything that gave him an edge over the rest of the world, gone. The wound in the Sister’s back was closed, but it was still bleeding internally. She would die without assistance, and Cyrus had been too slow with his magic one too many times. He grew frantic, trying to feel around for more energy. Even the Mother around him felt drier, devoid of its normal spirit.

The Sister pushed his arms away calmly. She was disappointed, but understood him. Her body began to crawl with vines, the last vestiges of the Mother’s power, and began to sink into the �oor. The great tree was going to safeguard her and use its power to save her life. Cyrus was going to make sure the tree’s sacri�ce wouldn’t be in vain.

A cup of warm tea sat in front of Eleanor as she looked out the window with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. It was pouring like crazy out there. What happened during the battle was something that she knew she would never forget, even if it had just ended a few minutes ago. All the screams, the lies, the tortures, the bloodshed—had made her sick to her stomach while she worked in the medic tent. They would need her there now, as the survivors fell from the vanguard, but she just needed a minute…


Thank goodness Eliot was there to help out. He even told Eleanor that he decided that he wanted to become a doctor in the future. She couldn’t be more proud of him; it took a lot of courage, something that Eleanor herself needed to work on.

What now? Eleanor thought. Ruth was gone. She was actually...gone. And...Mom was nowhere to be found. As for Ireland, it was di�cult to think about. They parted ways on a bad note and never talked about what it meant for them. Ireland might just hate her.

Eleanor felt something wet on the back of her hand. Tears. When did she start crying? A torrent rushed out of her eyes as she sat there in total silence. She cried for Eliot, for his family, for those who lost their loved ones, for Ireland, and for...Ruth, who still needed a proper burial. She cried for leaving those that she should have protected better. And now, what was left of her loved ones?

She looked at the palm of her right hand and noticed a gash. She must’ve been in shock that she hadn’t noticed it earlier. Eleanor wiped her tears with the back of her hand and placed her other hand over the gash. She closed her eyes and focused on healing it. After a few moments, she opened her eyes only to see the gash still open.

“What?” She tried again. There was a slight tingling sensation in her veins, but nothing more than that.

No luck there. What was happening? Maybe it was due to exhaustion. No, that couldn’t be right; she’d had a full night’s rest. She scowled and then it hit her. The shocking news caused her arm to hit the mug. The tea spilled down the table leg and onto her jeans, but she didn’t care. There was only one thing on her mind. “Am..I...losing...my ability to heal?”

A sudden loud noise caused Eleanor to �inch. She got up to check on the lock when she noticed Ireland standing there in front of her, soaked to the bone. Eleanor froze, not knowing what to say. “I—what—c-come in. I-I’ll bring out a fresh pot of tea. Here’s a towel to dry o�.” She handed it to her and practically sprinted to the kitchen.

“I’m such an idiot,” Eleanor said to herself as she poured tea into a mug. “You’re not an idiot.” Eleanor nearly jumped out of her skin. She turned around and put a hand on her chest. “Jeez,

you didn’t have to scare me half to death like that.” Ireland chuckled. “Sorry, I guess it’s a habit. But I guess I did it to see your reaction, to be

honest.” She walked over and leaned against the counter. “What are you saying?” Eleanor felt her cheeks burn up. “What I’m trying to say is that...the way we left things...I’ve been replaying it over and over in

my head. You weren’t an idiot. I was. I want…” Ireland sighed and walked over until she was standing face to face with Eleanor. “Look, I’m not someone who expresses emotions easily. But maybe just this once. I want...us..to work. We both have things we need to work on, but I want to give it a try if you’re also willing.”

Eleanor stood there, wondering if this was a dream. “Is...is this a dream?” “It isn’t, I’m afraid. So what do you say, Eleanor? Do we have a chance?”


A slow smile spread across Eleanor’s face. Stood up on her tippy toes and cupped Ireland’s cheek. “You’re sexy when you give it your all,” she said, and then closed the gap between them with a kiss that was light and sweet, yet deepened with passion.

The Air and Fire Batteries Mika softly landed on the ground next to Xialing. “No sign of him here. He’s gotta be close by,

right?” “Maybe he’s over by those trees,” Xialing said, as the reality of the situation began to take hold.

Mika nodded and generated another gust of air to propel herself upwards. The battle seemed to be ending, at least. Maybe they had managed to stop Roger after all. Mika cried out in panic and hit the ground heavily. “You alright?” Xialing said, quickly running to her side.

“Yeah, I—” Mika �exed her hand, but no air came forth. She tried again, but was still met with silence. “What’s going on?”

Xialing felt a subtle warmth that was always present in her lungs go out. She grabbed a pinch of powder and snapped her �ngers, but no �ame, no sparks, burst forth. All around her, she could hear the sounds of confusion and panic.

“Oh no.”

The Water Battery Lothan Manolis lay face up on the ground, much of his body scratched up and bloodied from

the ice daggers, his head bent at an unnatural angle. Rane Manolis stood over him, breathing heavily, steadying himself on the leather desk chair. The room was absolutely trashed. The walls of the room were lined with shelves full of books, the vast majority of which were now completely soaked and on the �oor. Rane didn’t even bother trying to see if the waterlogged laptop was worth salvaging.

Rane knew he had screwed up. He felt a knot forming in the pit of his abdomen, which quickly ascended up his throat. He picked up a wastebasket from underneath his father's desk and quickly emptied the contents of his stomach into it. He wiped his face and took another look around the room. Sooner or later someone was bound to come into the room to check up on Senator Manolis, so Rane had to make quick work of cleanup.

When it came to his father's body, Rane knew that living in a high pro�le house meant that he couldn't dispose of the body so easily. He pulled out Lothan's typewriter from the closet and quickly typed out a note which read: Goodbye, Cruel World.

How cliché. Rane never fancied himself a poet. Would the poor maid that stumbles across Lothan's mangled corpse the next day buy the suicide cover-up? Probably not, at least after a closer inspection. But would it buy Rane a little extra time to �ee the Faction? Hopefully.


The only thing left to do was make his death believable. Rane sat his father up in the leather chair. He then opened up a bottle of painkillers he found in a drawer and sprinkled a few on the desk, and a few over Lothan's mouth. He faced his palms out to the �oor to spray water to clean up the blood, which had already permeated into the Persian rug.

Yet nothing came out. He concentrated more, yet still he failed to summon any sort of water. Rane looked at his palms in discontent. This was strange and highly concerning— but not as important as the task at hand. Time for Plan B. He laid his father back down on the ground and threw away the pills. Then, he reached into the topmost drawer of the desk, pulled out Lothan's favorite revolver, and pointed it at his father's temple. Lothan's eyes were still open. Rane turned away, as though looking away removed himself from the crime.

Pop . Rane placed the gun in Lothan's right hand and silently limped out of the room. He felt weak

and sick—and his hands felt dry.

The Earth Battery Lena was taking a much needed walk through the Moh Empire. After the disaster that was the

conference, she was sent home quickly and quietly, with promises to not speak a word about what had happened. She disgruntledly agreed, and, save for an eye patch over her mutilated right eye, she was not much changed. At least, until recently. A couple of hours ago, she was sporting a rather nasty headache, and when she tried to lift a stone in her foyer, it remained immobile. It had taken a bit to realize her powers were completely gone, which was a dangerous thing indeed in the Moh Empire. She was still unused to the lack of telekinetic ability she was used to, and she knew it wouldn’t be long until the people of the Earth Faction realized she was now incredibly weak.

“Hello Ms. McAnany! How are you today?” Lena’s insu�erable neighbor, Alex, bounded up to her with a big stupid grin on her face. “Do you want to see a cool earth trick I can do?”

Lena sighed. There was no saying no to this obnoxious brat. “Go ahead, I guess,” she said, motioning with a single hand. Alex smiled, and focused on a rather large rock, sitting by the road. The rock �oated above the

pair. Lena gazed in mock amazement, as she was able to lift larger rocks just a day ago. Suddenly, Alex let out a scream, as the rock began to drop quickly toward the two. With a rush,

Lena pushed Alex to the side as the rock came plummeting down. It fell with an almighty crash. “That was incredibly irresponsible! If you were unable to lift such a large rock, you shouldn’t

have put it above our heads!” Lena screamed at the teenager in her arms. Alex was shaking, face completely white.

“I had complete control, but I suddenly...couldn’t lift the rock anymore. It was like...the ability was suddenly completely gone. I could usually grab it again but I just couldn’t. It was like…”

“Your powers were completely gone,” Lena stated solemnly, gazing at the rock.


There was a crack deeply engraved in the rock, nearly splitting it in two.

The Storm Battery George Foreman grinned into the blinding lights of the lighting set in front of him. He was

�nishing up his cooking segment on his award winning show. The lights dimmed, and George dropped his false smile.

“Where can someone get a good drink around here?” he shouted, �ngers beginning to spark. The crewmen scurried away, frightened of his power.

“Here you go, sir,” a skittish young woman said softly, holding a big bottle of beer. The golden liquid sloshed around in the bottle as her thin �ngers trembled. George grinned, shark teeth on display, as the lightning arced across his hand.

“Thanks, doll,” he slurred, grabbing the bottle. The electricity quickly snaked down the bottle and zapped the woman, earning a shriek in pain.

George clenched his hand in a �st, ready to send lightning sparking toward the woman, when suddenly his spark went out. George furrowed his eyebrows, and clenched harder. Still nothing.

A crewman walked forward. George stared in slight fear, and tried to bring his lightning up to the surface.

“You’ve lost your touch,” the crewman said, and pulled his hand back, ready to punch George across the nose. George screwed his eyes shut.

The Darkness Battery Ruby narrowed her eyes at a Light Mage inside the chasm. The light shield distorted the �gure

inside. Ruby put out her hands and began to work on draining the energy from the light shield. A few

seconds later, the image inside became clearer. Ruby continued to siphon the light energy out of the barrier. If she could breach it, and the armies could get here in time…

Suddenly, Ruby was hit by a wave of...emptiness. The shield became opaque once again. He smashed the Battery.


Chapter 62 Lorenzo — Zero Roger Badger turned to Lorenzo. “It’s time,” he said. “I’ll destroy the Light Battery here. You two make your escape.” “What about you?” Centari asked him. Roger shook his head. “I was never going to make it out,” he said. “We knew this from the beginning. I’ve served my

purpose.” “That you have,” said Lorenzo. It happened fast in a �ash. Lorenzo strutted towards the crouched Roger rather harmlessly, but

when he was upon him, he withdrew a knife from his jacket, grabbed him by the chin to force his head upwards, then cut his throat.

Roger collapsed to his side, blood spilling from that gash in his neck, eyes wide and confused. “For the sake of continuity, it’s only fair to tell you that you aren’t really my father,” Lorenzo

spoke to the dying man. “But, if it’s any consolation, I killed him, too.” Centari’s hands were over his mouth. Her initial shock was replaced by a burning rage, and she

raised her gauntleted arms to kill him. “You fucking traitor!” she screamed. She swung her arms in an arc, her middle �nger

outstretched accusingly, a furious, festering anger burned into the lines of her face. That was all that happened. Lorenzo smirked and gave her a sorry shrug.

“No more Storm magic,” he said matter-of-factly. “Actually, there’s no more magic at all. Except, well…” he nicked his head in the direction of the Light Battery glowing in his pocket.

Centari charged him. There were perhaps just �fteen yards between them, but it gave Lorenzo enough time to send a pulse of light at her. It blew her back. By the time she picked herself up, Lorenzo had a pistol in his hand and aimed at Centari.

He pulled the trigger, and she dodged to the side. The bullet connected with her shoulder, and she again fell to the ground. Lorenzo groaned and �red again, and this time hitting her in the stomach. I guess I’m a damned bad shot, he noted to himself, before pacing a few feet forward so that he towered over her. He �red a third shot into her forehead.

He tucked the gun back into its holster and stretched his back to the sounds of pounding on the light shield near the room’s entrance. The corridors leading into this great chamber were narrow, but Lorenzo imagined that they were packed full of angry Mages...well, they were Drubes, now, spare perhaps the few Miamian soldiers his mother and brother had sent up here to help defend.

Lorenzo, unlike Roger, had no intention of becoming a martyr in this tree. The four entrances into this room were thoroughly blocked, and he realized he had prepared no backup plan to escape. But there, on the far side of the room, next to the collapsed Leviathan, was the great pit the creature had emerged from. Lorenzo moved in that direction, picking up his pace a bit.

The girl—Charlie—was there. She looked at him with a dead stare, but he no longer felt the poisonous drain of her Decay leak. She, too, was now just a Drube. The decaying corpse of the


Leviathan curled around her as she petted its head. He thought of speaking to her, maybe making a coy remark, but something about her sunken features and slow movements unnerved him, and so he moved past her quickly. The pit descended at a sharp angle, but a navigable one. It would hopefully lead to the outside, and from there he could make his way back to Kingdom Miami —

Lorenzo felt a great force collide with his legs, and they disappeared from underneath him. As he fell to the ground, the Light Battery slipped from his hands. Lorenzo, on his back, saw the light shield begin to retract, so he reached for the Battery, but he was stopped by his attacker’s �rm grasp. He looked up and saw a familiar face—the Life Mage from Seattle, Centari’s nemesis, Cyrus , it was—atop him. Cyrus threw his �st into Lorenzo’s face, and it hurt like hell, and Lorenzo squeaked out. He opened his palms and �red o� a ray of light, blasting Cyrus o� of him.

Lorenzo crawled forward and grabbed the Light Battery, and the shield reasserted itself. He climbed to his feet, his free hand clutching his bleeding nose tightly, and looked to Cyrus’ sad, crumpled form on the ground a few feet away. Lorenzo drew his pistol and aimed it at the man.

“You know,” he said, the pitch of his voice distorted by his broken nose, “I’ll be doing you a favor, killing you. You’re a Drube now, just like the terrorists you spent your miserable life hunting. Just like the man who killed your mother.”

“Is that supposed to o�end me?” Cyrus spat back. “You squeak like a mouse.” Lorenzo laughed, then pulled the trigger.

The gun mis�red in his hand. He looked down, and there, stuck right before the barrel, was a tiny light shield. Before he could react, another disk of light swept across the room and knocked the gun from his hand. Lorenzo swung around. Leopold was there, walking towards him briskly, a determined look on his face. Lorenzo shook his head.

“Leopold!” he said, his voice spirited. “It’s about time you �nally got here.” “What are you doing?” Leopold said through gritted teeth. His voice was tense. Lorenzo

laughed. “I think it’s pretty obvious at this point. I would’ve told you sooner, but you wouldn’t believe

the number of hoops I’ve had to jump through to keep this all away from Father…” Leopold continued forward with that furious expression, so Lorenzo withdrew his Battery and

held it up as a warning. “Not a step further,” Lorenzo said. Leopold eyed the Battery, then stopped. Lorenzo softened

his voice. “There are two things that could happen here,” he said. “One is that you take a second to think about the opportunity that’s presented itself. Kingdom Miami has all the magic left in the world, and you’re the king. We could roll over these other factions in days’ time.”

“What’s two?” Leopold asked, and Lorenzo’s face became serious. “You foolishly try to stop me, get hurt, and then I become king,” he said. “You think the court would follow you after you killed me?” “Half of the court are remnants of Gleam’s court. There are a lot of closeted imperialists there

who hate our family.” As Leopold considered, Lorenzo added, “But that isn’t the ideal path for either of us. If we work together, we can bring Miami to new heights, and accomplish the things that our


ancestors have been working towards for centuries in a matter of weeks. You could be the king of not just Kingdom Miami, but of, well, everywhere , from Baltimore to Los Angeles to Seattle to New Orleans.”

“And what do you get out of it?” Leopold asked him. “A cushy life as the second-most powerful man in the world,” Lorenzo said. He scratched his

chin. “And perhaps a legacy outside of being Isaac Dazzle’s second son.” “The people in Kingdom Miami don’t care about being the most powerful faction,” Leopold

said. “They just want peace.” “That’s why we’re in charge, not them,” Lorenzo replied. “The people don’t care about

anything but themselves. They’re not �t to make decisions. If you need evidence of that, go check the far side of the room, where the democracies’ Batteries lie shattered in a sad pile.”

“We’re not going to wage war against the other factions,” Leopold said sternly, and Lorenzo groaned.

“I’m disappointed in you—” A gunshot rang out in the tree, the sound echoing a thousand times o� the chamber’s walls

and high ceiling. Lorenzo felt a �ery pain in his shoulder, and instinctually, his other hand shot up to grab the source of that pain. The Battery fell from his hand and tumbled down into the chasm below. Lorenzo swung around and saw that it was that Life Mage, who was crumpled and bloody on the ground, with the pistol in his hand. The Mage pulled the trigger a second time, but Lorenzo mustered up a shield to block the bullet, then used that shield to slam the man’s head into the ground, killing him, or knocking him unconscious, but incapacitating him nonetheless.

Lorenzo turned his attention back to Leopold, but a second too late. Leopold was already on him. He grabbed Lorenzo’s collar and tried to throw him to the ground, but Lorenzo managed to keep his footing and grab a hold of Leopold’s armored vest. He used that grip to haphazardly hold his balance as he used his right foot to kick at his brother’s legs. The move worked, to some e�ect, and Leopold fell, which Lorenzo realized a moment later, meant that he would fall as well.

The two brothers tumbled o� the ledge of the leviathan’s chasm. Lorenzo lost his grip on Leopold as they went. It was only a short distance before he crashed into a bit of broken �ooring that had caved in, thankfully colliding with his uninjured shoulder, then, after �ailing, grasping for anything to stabilize himself, and failing, tumbled down the slope of that to another short fall. This time he hit the level ground of the tunnel beneath with a hollow thump . Leopold hit the same ground a few meters away a second later.

Lorenzo groaned. He had hit his head somewhere in that mess, and tasted blood in his mouth now. The corners of his vision glowed white, and his vision swam, but he saw the Battery on this �oor between him and Leopold.

Lorenzo tried to extend his arm to pull himself forward, but the pain of the bullet wound shot from his shoulder all the way to his side, and he cried out. That cry awoke Leopold. Lorenzo used his good arm now to push himself into a kneeling position. He would stand, but he could barely keep his


balance here, and so instead, he crawled. Leopold had apparently fared better in his own fall— he managed to get himself on his feet, but walked clumsily, using one hand to clutch at his side.

It was a pathetic, slow race to the Battery. They reached it at the same time. Lorenzo threw both hands onto the glowing orb right as his brother grabbed it with just one. Leopold gave it a tug, nearly freeing it from Lorenzo’s hands, but Lorenzo gritted his teeth and pulled it toward himself. Leopold stumbled forward, onto Lorenzo, and so he fell back. His brother was on top of him now, and so he tried to squirm free, but then he felt an immense pain from the bullet wound in his shoulder, so intense that the white at the corners of his vision closed in to give him tunnel vision, and he screamed out. Leopold pulled his �nger from the wound, freeing him from that pain, but he had already lost the Battery.

Leopold towered over him, Light Battery in hand. Lorenzo had no energy left to pull himself from his back. He smiled sadly and shook his head back and forth in the soil.

“Fine,” he said. “You win.” He patted the ground beside himself twice to tap out. “Take the Battery.”

Leopold looked at him with a mixture of disgust and pity. He turned to leave. “I’ll get you a medic,” he said as he walked away. “I’m not defeated, you realize,” Lorenzo called after him. “Kingdom Miami is still the most

powerful faction. Maybe you won’t use that to our advantage, but the next king will, and if not him, then the next. Such an advantage is simply too tempting, probably even for you.”

Leopold stopped, then turned around to face his brother. He frowned. “Maybe you’re right,” he said. He leaned over, out of Lorenzo’s view, and when he was on his feet again, he held a rock.

Lorenzo narrowed his eyes. “You wouldn’t,” he said as Leopold set the Battery on the �oor and sat down in front of it.

“Even you’re not that stupid.” Spittle �ew from his mouth as he said it. He raised his voice so that he was screaming. “Even you’re not that selfish …!”

Leopold slammed the rock into the Battery.


PART 5

THE AFTERMATH


Epilogue: Ashton Despite the loss of the Beacon, Miami retained a brilliant light. The breeze kissed the blades of

grass and the sky was dotted with clouds. A sense of peace for many, but beneath it all was an unbearable pain.

An old man stood by a gravestone. The gravestone bore no tokens to their memory. The soil freshly turned and only the small etchings of grass erupting from the ground. The man’s face was like leather: tough and worn out. His eyes were a deep blue. His hair drooped down to his shoulders, almost translucent. He didn’t blink once as he looked longingly towards the gravestone. His shadow loomed over the hard stone.

A woman stood nearby. She seemed unnatural in this place. She didn’t approach the old man. In fact, she had no idea who he was, but then again, she never knew much about the name on the stone either.

Etched in the stone were two words: Ashton Illuminate . The casket below had nothing in it. His body had been marred beyond recognition, and after the events in the Life Faction, it would be impossible for a proper burial. Instead, the only items in the casket were a badge for his service to Miami and his uniform as an advisor.

“You know, he hated me,” the old man whispered. The woman next to him snapped out of a trance upon hearing his words. She turned to look at him.

“What?” she said softly. She wasn’t expecting him to speak. “Ashton. He always hated me. He never said it to my face, but I could tell.” “Who are you?” “Ha, I guess you could call me his father, but it’d be more accurate to say I was just another

obstacle. And you?” “My name is Ruby. Ashton and I were companions for a while. I’m… sorry for your loss.” She

looked back down at the grave. “He had friends?” The old man smiled at that thought. “Good. He could be quite the ass when

he wanted to be.” The man pulled a small �ask from his pockets and undid the cap. He took a long sip from it. “I still loved him. Even if I couldn’t show it. I wish I had stopped him from leaving. I wish so many things.” He voice cracked and tears �owed from those blue eyes. He raised his sleeve and quickly stopped the droplets.

“I didn’t know him that well, sir, but Ashton wouldn’t stop if something was in his way,” said Ruby. Mr. Illuminate chuckled.

“Ha, you’re not wrong. Tell me, do you think he was happy?” Ruby paused for a moment. “I couldn’t say sir. I do think he lived to his own beat.” The old man didn’t respond for a few seconds. He was lost in thought staring at the gray

memory. “Are you gonna be okay?”


“Thanks for the concern, young lady. I’ll be �ne. I’m just tired of feeling like a burden to him.” Ruby stayed silent. “He once told me he would be ‘the greatest,’” the man continued. “I never asked what he

meant by that, and I doubt he knew what it meant himself.” He turned his gaze to the sky and then looked back to Ruby. “Sorry for pushing my concerns on you. Thank you for keeping him company.”

He walked away. As he did, he heard her say something to the stone. “Goodbye, Ashton. And thank you.”


Epilogue: Cyrus Life without magic was nearly unbearable. Maybe not much to those who never really relied on

it, but Cyrus’s entire life had revolved around being invincible. Well, not invincible, but close enough. A few weeks after the big battle, Cyrus got a small cut on one of his hands while handling thorny plants. He had to put a bandage on for the �rst time in his life. He hadn’t quite managed to align the padding with the cut, and so it had healed slowly and painfully. Cyrus kept it on after the Sister, Wanda recovered.

Up until that moment, Cyrus secretly regretted his decision to trade the Life Battery for her life, but upon her recovery, she quickly proved it a good decision. Without her, Sanctuary would be leaderless, falling to chaos within days. Sure, they all had to live without the magic they grew up with, but Cyrus decided it was worth it, even if he had to deal with those damn medical supplies that burned his skin and made him feel as if he was wrapped in unsanitary goo.

He wasn’t sure whether it had been Roger’s eventual intention or not, but Cyrus grew to be more sympathetic to humans. Non-Mages. Whatever name everyone else was using now that magic was gone from the world completely. They were on an equal level now, which inspired Cyrus to get stronger. If not magically, then physically and mentally. In the middle of all of it, he stayed close to the Sister. Without her abilities, she was incredibly vulnerable and thus needed a bodyguard now more than ever.

Nevertheless, Cyrus tried time and time again to call his powers. He even retrieved his auxilifact from the Mother and attempted to charge it daily. Every day he was forced to put it down empty. Zero shots. He had heard from the Sister that a part of the Leviathan still lived within the Mother. If that was true, maybe magic would return, at least to Life Mages. If that were the case, Cyrus was going to make damn sure that the �rst Life Mage to regain his abilities would be the one capable of forgiving some loser radicals within humanity for killing his mother.

Though he didn’t think he’d mind if Wanda got there �rst instead.


Epilogue: Xialing “Watcha looking at, Xialing?” Mika said, prodding her in the back with the end of her broom. “Nothing much,” Xialing said in response. The clouds were light and clumpy. The weather

was nice today. “How’s your mom?” “Getting stronger. Situation still looks pretty bleak, but … well, what can you do?” Xialing

went back to sweeping the outside of the bar. It wasn’t her �re magic that she missed; it was the time in her life when she did have �re magic. Chaotic, confusing times. Now dead and gone, just like everything else.

“Tomorrow’s a holiday. We’ll be busy for sure, but to make up for it—” Klaus took out two bottles of expensive-looking liquor “—we’re going to be having our own celebration after closing hours.”

“Hell yeah! Alcohol!” Mika cheered. Xialing propped the broom against the wall and joined the others sitting at the table. “By the

way, did you hear? My dad got a promotion yesterday.” “That’s great!” Gustav said from behind the counter, having �nished cleaning o� the spouts.

“About time, too. He’s been working there for long enough. Looks like your fate’s turning for the better, isn’t it?”

“No such thing,” Xialing mused. “No such thing.”


Epilogue: Ireland & Eleanor The rebuilding of the city had taken some time; Eleanor and Ireland helped plant new trees

and plants around town and gave families some rations after vegetation was destroyed during the battle. This was no easy feat, but Eleanor tried to keep her head up; there was no point in dwelling in the past. She would never forget about Ruth—she would live forever in her heart—but it was time to move on. She vowed to restore faith in humanity once more, and one way to do that was planting trees.

Eleanor �nished planting the last tree in her pile and stood up. She dusted o� the dirt from her hands and went to grab her canteen for a drink. She saw Ireland making her way toward her. Her hands were caked with dirt and sweat dripped down her forehead.

“Hey,” Ireland said. “I—ah...just �nished the last batch, so I think I’m gonna go take a sh—” Eleanor grabbed Ireland’s shirt and smashed her lips against hers. When they came up for air,

Eleanor gave a lopsided smile. “I just wanted you to know that I love you.” It’s the �rst time Eleanor said those words out loud.

Ireland looked at the sparkle within Eleanor’s eyes and could tell that those words were genuine. She smiled back. “I love you too, you romantic fool.” Then she proceeded to tickle Eleanor until they were both rolling and laughing like maniacs on the ground.

Eleanor looked at her house one last time. This was it. No turning back now. Ireland would probably be a bit upset, but she’ll come around with a bit of time. Eleanor had thought long and hard about the decision to leave for a while; it’s true that she had overcome a lot, but there was still so much she wanted—no, needed to learn about herself so that she could be worthy of Ireland’s love. Without another glance, Eleanor turned around and, with her small blue luggage, set o� toward the woods.

Ireland wrapped her �oral towel around herself and strode into the bedroom. “Eleanor? I was thinking about ordering some food from that place that we both love. How ‘bout it, huh?” She put on a Hawaiian shirt and black pants. There was no response. Ireland called out once more. “Eleanor?” She looked around the house, but Eleanor was nowhere to be seen.

Ireland’s eye caught a white envelope sticking out of a potted plant on the windowsill. She grabbed it gently and looked at the front. It was addressed to her from Eleanor. She was almost afraid to open it and read what it said. Almost. With shaky hands she opened it and pulled out the letter.

Dear Irelan�, I know yo� mus� b� ver� con�se� righ� now. Le� m� assur� yo� tha� I’� fin�. I’� no� hur� an� a� lon� a� I’� care��, I wil� continu� t� b�. I’� sorr� for leavin� yo� lik� thi�. I promis� I’� no� breakin� up wit� yo�. Promis�. I’v� though� abou� thi� for � few week�. Oka�...I’v� though� abou� i� for � few month�. I� wa� � ver� difficul� decisio� t� mak�.


A� for wher� I’� goin�...I’� no� reall� sur�. Gues� I’l� fin� ou� a� tim� goe� b�. I’� doin� thi� a� sor� of � self-discover� journe�. Sound� chees�, I know. Bu� i�’� th� trut�. �er�’� jus� s� muc� I do�’� know abou� myself. Wh� I a� withou� feelin� th� nee� t� protec� Rut� an� mother. Wh� a� I outsid� of tha�? I’v� alway� wondere�; wel�, now her�'� m� chanc� t� fin� ou�.

If I ha� tol� yo�, yo�’� mak� m� brin� yo� alon�, an� I would�’� hav� th� strengt� t� re�s� i�. �i� i� wh� I le� a� � tim� yo� would�’� b� aroun� for confrontatio�. I’� sorr�, bu� thi� i� somethin� tha� I hav� t� d� alon�. I do�’� know wha� th� �tur� hold�, bu� I ca� promis� yo� thi�: I wil� b� bac� whe� I hav� foun� myself. Wai� for m�, oka�? I lov� yo� to� muc�, bu� I understan� if yo� do�’� wan� t� wai� aroun� for m�.

Her�’� t� th� �tur� whe� w� ca� mee� agai�.

Lov�, Eleanor

Ireland wiped the tears rolling down her cheeks. “You were right. You are an idiot.” She put the letter back into the envelope and put it on the fridge with a magnet. “But you’re my idiot and I’ll wait for you. I’ll wait as long as it takes.”


Epilogue: Charlie Charlie shivered in the trunk of the Tree of Life, thread-worn blanket wrapped around her

shoulders. The Sister had made the decision, after many weeks of indecision, to let Charlie stay in the tree permanently. Charlie assumed it was because of the exile and subsequent genocide of her people. Charlie didn’t care.

This was her home now. Each day, she would walk the entire circumference of the tree, placing one foot in front of the

other. There wasn’t much left in her life, and Charlie was left pondering the secrets of life. Charlie stood up and started to walk, hands curled around the blanket. One foot in front of the other. Right, left, right, left, right… Charlie stopped. The body of the Leviathan lay curled in the corner, chunks of �esh missing. Each day, Charlie

would eat a chunk of the meat for sustenance. However, there was something moving underneath the body of the beast. Charlie crouched down, so that she could slowly move aside the dead body.

Hidden underneath the folds of the �esh was a tiny snake-like creature. Charlie’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Cupping her hands under the creature, Charlie lifted it up so that she could look at it at eye-level.

The creature was small, small enough to wrap around Charlie’s thinnest �nger. Its scales were pure white, as if covered in solid snow, and its eyes were just as white. It had thin fangs, but that is not what had Charlie trembling.

In her hands was the future of the Holy Sanctuary of the Mother. In her hands was a baby Leviathan.


Epilogue: Leopold Leopold looked down over the greens, down past the three hills and the dunes and the white

summer sand, to the ocean. Near the shore, it shone with a hundred brilliant shades of green and turquoise, dotted with the white roofs of �shing boats, but his attention was �xed to a point farther away, out on the horizon, where the water was a dark, ugly shade of blue. That dark blue connected there with the light blues and wispy whites of the sky on a single line that was the horizon, and it was that line that intrigued him now. He leaned forward, pressing his weights against the dusty sandstone battlement.

“I’ve heard some chatter from the guards. They don’t like it when you stand here,” a voice behind him said. He needn’t turn around to identify it.

“And why’s that?” he said to his mother. “Without light shields, it’s dangerous. You’re vulnerable to attack.” Leopold smiled. “I’m only the man who destroyed the magic in our Kingdom. Who could

want to do me harm?” He turned to face his mother, then saw something quite peculiar. She was dressed up in a white suit, the fabric so thin and loose that the light ocean breeze could catch it. Formal wear.

“What’s the occasion?” he said. “You have a visitor.”

Leopold found her inside the Beacon. That thing—that lighthouse—no longer shone with the brightness of a sun. If it were true that aliens mistook Miami for a star, then they would know nothing of what happened here, just that one day there was light, and the next there wasn’t. Perhaps that was all they would need to know.

Leopold had only come here a handful of times before his father’s death. The Battery had once sat on this �oor, but Leopold had ordered the hall cleared and re�tted as a place of worship. The commission had been confused, and so they installed a number of holy icons: an altar stood at the center of the room, and surrounding it were cruci�xes and Stars of David and Muslim prayer mats and Buddha statues. Leopld hadn’t meant to make this a religious place, but rather as he said it: a place of worship. Of remembrance.

Wanda Duponte stood near the front of the room, a Ganesha �gurine in her hand. At the sound of Leopold’s hollow footsteps, she turned to face him.

“King Dazzle,” she said, and set Ganesha down. “This is a nice space. It is absent of the idols of the Mother, though. I could have some holy totems sent to you.”

“I would like that,” Leopold said. He sat down on the corner of the front pew. Wanda made her way to him, an awkward limp in her step. She was badly injured in the Battle of the Tree, he knew, though she hid her pain well. She sat in the seat opposite him.

“Did you travel all this way to make that o�er?” he asked, and she shook her head.


“I did not. I’m sorry to surprise you. I should have had my sta� call ahead, but…” “You don’t travel with sta�.” She smiled. “That’s right. Your chief of sta�, Ainsley, brought me here. He said you were quite

occupied, or that you’d have met me yourself.” Leopold studied Wanda’s face carefully. There was no way she could know what his afternoon

a�airs were, but from the glint in her eye, he became quite certain that she knew. His �ance’s death was tragic, but it had freed him to pursue other interests.

“Why did you come, then?” he asked her. “I haven’t o�cially issued condolences on your father’s passing, nor congratulations on your

new position. Now I o�er them both at once. Death is sad, but new beginnings are necessary.” “I appreciate that,” Leopold said. “Besides,” she said, “it is customary for the Sister to visit Miami upon the appointment of a

new king, to rea�rm the state of our factions’ alliance. These may be unprecedented times, but it is tradition, with or without magic.”

“Our alliance is as strong as ever,” Leopold said. “Then might I inquire about the traitor?” “Lorenzo is in prison.” “Which prison?” “State secret.” Wanda hummed a skeptical note. “I’ll trade you,” she said. “Your state secret for mine.” “What’s that?” “Rumblings from the belly of the Tree of Life. It appears as though the Mother has birthed a

new Leviathan. A baby.” Leopold hu�ed. “How does that interest me?” “The Leviathan is Life magic incarnate. The Life Battery grew in her womb. We believe the

new Leviathan might grow another. I’ve seen the signs of inception.” That did interest Leopold. He sat forward in his seat. “What does that mean?” Wanda smiled, and it was perhaps the �rst time Leopold had ever seen her emote. “It means that maybe, just maybe, we can bring the magic back.”

Many hours later, long after the sun had fallen below the horizon, Leopold paced along the castle halls. He now wore a jacket; even in these summer months, the night could become quite cool. In his hand he clutched the handle of a gas lantern, which threw long, twirling shadows on the corridor walls.

He followed a familiar path to the lower �oors to a place beneath the castle walls. The Coniferous Garden. He hardly needed the lantern; his feet found their way through this place with their own memory, a lovely memory of a time now gone forever, lost to history like his footsteps in the soil. But he hadn’t brought the lantern for navigation. Once he reached that spot, his spot , where he


and his father and Lorenzo had spent their nights training, he set the lantern on the ground, then himself beside it. He took the letter from his pocket — his father’s letter—then set his �nger into the gap at its corner, and tugged, and ripped through the paper.

The note inside was folded, to his relief, so that he mustn't see anything before it was ready. He withdrew it with quivering hands, and savored this moment when his father still had words left to give him, this moment before his father’s life, and legacy, was forever sealed. Then he opened it.

The letter was brief.

Leopold, You are ready. You are strong. And you will choose hope. Your Father.

Leopold folded the letter and set it back in its envelope, then back in his pocket. He rotated the dial on the lantern, smothering the �ame, and found himself in the darkness.

He closed his eyes, then stood. He had stood here a thousand times before, and even through the crickets and cicadas and distant sound of thunder, he could hear whispers in the wind. Whispers from the past, of Lorenzo’s frustrated hu�s, of his father’s sturdy tone, concentrated with a wisdom he would never know, and his own squeaky twelve-year-old voice excitedly saying, Look father, I’ve done it! I’ve made a sphere!

Leopold pushed those thoughts away now, and concentrated his focus on his chest. Even if his Battery were still to be in the Beacon, safe and sound, Leopold doubted he could muster the pride he had used for so long to summon his magic. His father had never answered the question Leopold had asked so many years ago: what is the most powerful emotion?

But now Leopold thought of the battle at the Tree, of the bear he had ridden in Neros, of the baby Leviathan in the Tree of Life. He thought of Ainsley, and of his mother, and his father, and Lorenzo. And he thought of bringing down a brick onto his Battery—that perfect glowing star — and shattering it forever. King Leopold Dazzle did not open his eyes, but he felt something quite powerful, something white-hot, in his chest. He felt hope.

And, in that quiet forest, a white star, the size of a grain of sand on the beach, twinkled.


Author’s Note The Creative Writing Club of Penn State is a community of young writers interested in telling stories. Our mediums include novels, short stories, poetry, screenplays, music pieces, and more! Our General Body Meetings (GBMs) are scheduled on Wednesdays from 7:30pm to 8:30pm. The Creative Writing Club hosts a variety of other events, writing workshops, and socials throughout the semester. One of these projects include the group novel, where the club works together to write a cohesive and interconnected novel. This year, the group novel was written and created by a strong group of writers, who put their all into the novel as a project. As such, the written work you see before you was the work of a number of people.

Contributors Kirsten Worrall - organized and edited group novel, writer of Charlie, co-writer of Ireland and Maxim David Wagner - organized and edited group novel, writer of Leopold, developed lore of story Brian Liu - organized and edited group novel, writer of Chenxue, Xialing, and Roger, developed lore

of story Phoenix Neas - edited group novel, writer of Cyrus, developed lore of story Jarod Yu - edited group novel, writer of Ashton Victoria Gough - edited group novel, writer of Ruby Jaylynn Gardner - writer of Rane Kelly Waters - edited group novel Parmis Solaimanian - edited group novel, co-writer of Eleanor Amanda Nurse - edited group novel, co-writer of Eleanor Gri�n Relford - co-writer of Ireland and Maxim Lance Colet - edited group novel Cecilia Koncerak - edited group novel


Appendices


Appendix 1: The Setting of Splintered Factions The year is 2020. Our story is set in an alternate version of the United States in which human beings wield magic and belong to various magical factions. In this universe, countries outside of the United States are not discussed and it is unknown whether they exist at all. As far as our characters are concerned, the United States is the only landmass. The country is not called the United States, but rather The Magic Coalition. All landmarks/cities/states are in their original locations.

Technology is comparable to real-world, modern-day technology, though the existence of magic greatly interferes with its capabilities and functions. The sole exception to this rule is weapons technology, which is signi�cantly underdeveloped within the factions (in this world, humans have opted to pursue magical means of combat rather than technological ones). Humans (non-mages), however, have invested signi�cantly into their mechanical weapons technology, speci�cally in anti-mage and anti-wielding weapons. Once the factions caught wind of this, they immediately outlawed anti-mage weapon research and development, as the many mages were already having issues with the Darkness faction.

The current structure of government(s) has existed more-or-less in its current form for the past thirty years, before which the various factions waged almost endless war against one another (to no real e�ect). This is, then, an extended peacetime, where all of the factions have agreed under the Peace Accords with varying levels of reluctance and success to pursue amiable relations. Even historically oppositional factions (i.e. water and �re) maintain friendly-ish relations, though traditional hostilities, especially amongst the population, still remain. Citizens of each magic type are now allowed to move to and reside in territories controlled by other factions, and though factions are still relatively self-segregated. Prejudice towards members of foreign factions is fading but still noticeable depending on territory.

(The Decay faction, exiled from the Life faction and, due to unfair stereotypes, widely disliked by both foreign citizens and governments, was not invited to sign the Peace Accords.) The Decay faction, perhaps due to unfair stereotypes, is widely disliked by both foreign citizens and governments, though they, too, have signed onto the Peace Accords. Though they no longer wage war against other factions, they remain isolationist and engage in little trade or diplomatic relations.

It is important to note that non-magical humans also exist in this world. Being comparable to mages physically and mentally, the inequality between them is largely determined by magical ability. The culture of the country is not antithetical to non-magic people, but clearly caters to mages �rst. Larger factions, having higher non-magic populations, generally treat non-magic humans better than smaller factions, and especially better than small factions with high mage density. Opinions of non-magic humans range from complete acceptance to hidden disdain to open derision. While viewed negatively and persecuted in smaller villages or towns, they are generally treated fairly by the larger legal systems and do not su�er from glaring violations of human rights or highly visible oppression. Prejudice towards non-mages is variable depending on the territory, though all societies generally consider the non-mages “lesser” and therefore pay them little mind either positively or negatively. During the


warring times, non-magic humans were mostly civilians, with a few aiding as communication or manufacturing jobs. Their relative inadequacy when it came to mage warfare led to patronizing and resentful attitudes from the mages at war.

The non-mages are dispersed across the Factions and have less of a centralized leadership structure, though they do �nd representation in an unrecognized, uno�cial council called the Council of Man that attempts to give their people a voice in inter-factional diplomacy. It is more like an advocacy group than an o�cial government. Don’t worry—the total lack of attention a�orded to the Council of Man by the factions almost certainly hasn’t led to the Council of Man’s radicalization and eventual development of anti-mage weaponry in preparations for nationwide terrorism e�orts. Probably.


Appendix 2: Important Events of Splintered Factions The End of the Warring Times: After hundreds of years of pointless war, young cross-breed (water, �re) Katja Stern was able to negotiate a cease�re between water and �re. Air, who had historically been in the middle of the �ghting, eagerly asked to be included in the agreement. Katja, seeing the potential for a nationwide armistice, managed to convince life to sign on as well. Katja convinced leaders in Water, Air, and Life to contribute resources to a paci�st uprising in Storm, overthrowing their war-mongering government. Storm agreed, followed by Decay and Darkness, who were su�ering from their own economic/social crises. Through this process, Katja served as a diplomat and negotiator. The joined factions formed a coalition, and Mind and Earth, seeing that the combined enemy forces were much stronger than their own, signed onto the agreement. The Kingdom of Light refused, forcing the coalition to invade and dethrone their king and replace him with a loyalist (their current king). This was the bloodiest battle in the nation’s history. After the war, when Katja began advocating for non-mage rights, she was assassinated by a “light kingdom loyalist”.

Now: In current times, the world is relatively stable. Con�ict between factions is handled diplomatically. Things are good. The constant threat of a coalition invasion prevents breaches of the Peace Accords. That is, until a Life faction missionary discovers everyone in the Decay camp dead.

While it is normal for the Decay Faction to go quiet, it is rare for other factions. A trade delegation sent to the Darkness capital �nds the entire population of the city/fortress slain (conceivably human, or de�nitely mages?). When this reaches leadership, it is decided to call a Congress with a representative from each Faction. Each Faction may also elect one of its top people to appoint to a joint investigative task-force.

The only Faction that refuses to participate in the Congress is Mind. Mind’s leader has decided to instead fortify her territory and block all entry/exit. The faction has no interest in working alongside the other factions, and instead engages in illegal espionage and sends out its own investigative team.


Appendix 3: The Magic System of Splintered Factions Fire Abilities :

○ Breathe/Generate/Control Fire ○ Heat up objects ○ (Master Rank): Higher temperature �ames which produce di�erent colored �ames. Many less

skilled people have access to this due to illegal powders, with fatal consequences

Limitations : Material Components - Require material components, must consume fuel to create magic. Fuel can take the form of highly potent powders sold for the sole purpose of casting, or everyday fuels, like oil, gasoline, and plant life. Illicit powders sold on black market are incredibly powerful and violent. Powders, and really their abilities in general, are weakened by water or humidity, making water users a natural enemy.

Water Abilities :

○ Control the �ow of water ○ Cool down objects ○ (Master Rank): Control other liquids that are not water-based (Liquid metal, etc.)

Limitations : Temperature Regulation - Needs to stay cool and hydrated for their powers to work. Too much heat, arid environments, and high altitudes can weaken powers. Fire users are especially troublesome for them.

Frost Abilities :

○ Create objects from ice ○ Freeze water and cool down to a greater degree than water users ○ (Master Rank): Nullify abilities reliant on heat

Limitations : Overspecialized - In exchange for the ability to manipulate and control ice, Frost users are much weaker and less capable in other aspects of water magic. Water that they turn into ice must be on hand or manually transported, and they lose control over water that is no longer close to freezing.

Air Abilities :

○ Can control air currents to create strong winds or cause themselves to �y gracefully


○ Can improve their re�exes and speed greatly ○ (Master Rank): Can draw air and wind straight from water or smoke, perhaps giving them

more power (see below) at the cost of their concentration

Limitations : Steady Breath - Need to have steady and controlled breathing to use most abilities. They don't fare as well in smoggy cities, high altitudes, or underwater.

Life Abilities :

○ Able to communicate with plants and animals ○ Able to give life energy to their surroundings, healing them ○ (Master Rank): Able to drain life and cause mutations in others, kept a secret from the people

lower on the hierarchy

Limitations : Emotionally Responsive - Abilities determined greatly by the intentions and personality of the mage. More benevolent intentions and casters will create more benevolent e�ects. Volatile and capricious, a mage in a bad mood can create unexpected results which may even be harmful (to others and to themselves)

Decay Abilities :

○ Can slow down biological processes, to negative and positive e�ect ○ Can gradually kill/decompose organic matter or lower the strength and natural energy

of surrounding people ○ (Master Rank): Can temporarily stop biological changes in someone, nullifying the

e�ects of poisons, drugs, or disease

Limitations : Fear the Reaper - Decay users, a subset of Life users, give o� an aura of the eventual fate they represent. People who fear death, or who fear decay users, will slow down their own biological processes in the presence of a user, leading to exhaustion and, in extreme cases, death.

Light Abilities :

○ Can cause bright light to appear from any part of their body, which can range from pleasant to blinding in intensity

○ Lasers of focused light that can cut things real nice + light shields ○ (Master Rank): Alter the re�ection and refraction of light, enabling them to make themselves

invisible or make small, held objects invisible


Limitations : Light Pollution - The strength of their abilities is gauged by their relative brightness compared to their surroundings. Just as stars can be drowned out by surrounding city lights, Light wielders are at their most powerful in complete darkness.

Darkness Abilities :

○ Can “�icker” magic, causing other magic users to lose perfect control over their abilities ○ Can create pools, whips, and coat objects in darkness, which eats away at magical constructs

and abilities ○ (Master Rank): Can nullify magic entirely

Limitations : Law of Conservation of Magical Energy - Cannot draw power from each other, meaning they must take power from other mages in order to use their abilities. However, they can still draw the magic energy from objects charged with energy, like magical weapons.

Mind Abilities :

○ Can Manipulate and control minds (to a limited extent, never usually lasts long without victim’s consent)

○ Has minor telepathy ○ (Master Rank): Can cause telekinetic forces that can push fools around

Limitations : The Void - Linking to too many minds at once or controlling minds to too high a degree puts the caster in danger of falling into The Void, where sense of individuality fades and multiple consciousnesses can melt together. Casters who have fallen into The Void lose all sense of individuality and become essentially brain-dead.

Earth Abilities :

○ Can levitate and telekinetically move rocks and stones ○ Can control earth particulates, allowing them to manipulate smoke and dust ○ (Master Rank): Can alter the e�ect of gravity on objects by a small amount

Limitations : Muscular Magic - Unlike other types of magic, earth magic is highly dependent on the user’s physical strength. The amount of earth that a user can manipulate at once is roughly equivalent to how much they could lift and move with their own bodies, meaning that stronger mages are capable of much more.


Storm Abilities

○ Able to manipulate and control the weather ○ Able to redirect loose electricity ○ (Master Rank Only): Can Absorb or Generate Electricity

Limitations : Ink Conduits - While most casters are able to use their magic without any aids, truly competent users require the help of tattoos, which direct and focus their abilities. These tattoos, known as conduits, are large, intricate lines usually inked on the arms of casters. The style of the tattoo conveys the style and personality of the caster, but the general form indicates its use.

Magic Technology Especially skilled mages can imbue objects or weapons with magic, allowing non-mages to use their magical abilities. After the Peace Accords, this type of construction was deemed illegal, in order to keep humans under control. An object with magical properties is known as an Auxilifact (auxiliary magical artifact).


Appendix 4: The General Faction Culture of Splintered Factions

Pyre Federation (Fire) Fast-moving, corrupt, and innovative. The American Dream, in all its beauty and hideousness. Based in a major metropolitan area where crime runs rampant. People are encouraged by their surroundings to learn how to use their powers quickly and to deadly e�cacy. Education is formalized for the upper classes, but most people learn how to use their abilities from the streets. There is a crime syndicate which manages the dealings of �re powders, led by Doña Maria Vasquez, addressed as “Doña” or “Sra. Vasquez. '' Started as a small-time extortion racket operating out of Vegas and Flagsta�, expanded to include other criminal enterprises. Eventually obtained enough power to maintain local control using the lieutenants of the family as local governors.

The Democratic Republic of Loch (Water) Strong, proud, and traditional, the water faction is probably the most similar to modern-day real-world society. They are a diverse and large Faction with a fairly moderate political climate, culture, and system of governance. Probably the most “normal” place to live, though the people are known for being initially skeptical and unfriendly. Some people might even say that they come o� as cold, at least until you really get to know them. History of faction is a hippie commune, magic users �ocked to this faction because they were accepting of outcasts.

The People’s Republic of Gauss (Storm) Started as a disaster prevention squad, expanded to be a full government. Nobility and respect are the most important aspects to this society, and a person’s rank in society is the most important consideration. The King of the Storm Faction was a dictator and commonly hated by the people until Katja supported an uprising and deposed the current king.

The Neros Institute (Mind) Pretentious academics. Children are sent to strict boarding-school-style academies from ages 5 to 17, during which time they are taught to wield as well as other academic skills. While at academies, students are granted three vacation days a year, during which time they return home to visit with their families. Students are evaluated with both written and wielding exams each year, with students scoring in the bottom 10% being removed from the academy and assigned manual labor (yes, even if they are only 8 years old). At age 17, students are tested in both wielding and non-wielding skills. Strong mages are assigned to defense/espionage (Mind still maintains a fairly large military presence and spy network despite the peacetime) while academically gifted students are assigned high-paying though relatively mundane jobs. Students talented in both �elds are allowed government positions. Low scoring students are delegated to manual labor. It is essentially a caste system: Defense, Government, Civil, and Labor. Society is fairly segregated along these lines. Mind, unsurprisingly, looks down upon foreigners and non-mages.


Vox Mortis (Decay) Nomadic people originally from the Life faction, were exiled for questioning the authority of their deities and practicing magic that was counter to theirs. They are creators of excellent medicines and talented healers, but they are better known and feared for their ability to induce weakness and death to others. Due to the nature of their abilities, they are generally disliked by other magic factions, who see them as ambassadors of death. Most of the other factions neither trust nor like Decay, spare some members of the Life Faction, who consider Decay as the necessary foil to their own existence.

The Sanctuary of the Holy Mother (Life) Peaceful arbitrators of the new world order, the Life Faction is a calm and gentle agrarian society dedicated to becoming one with the harmony of nature. They reside mainly in sleepy forest and river settlements where ambition and personal achievement are frowned upon in favor of balance and community. Magic is passed down and taught through the family. The plants and animals are their friends, for all beings are the children of the mother. Some might wonder whether they’re growing another type of weed in their gardens. In the center of their capital stands the Tree of Life, the Mother of all Life mages.

The Nox Republic (Darkness) The Darkness faction lives normally, but due to their abilities is viewed negatively by other people. Since their magic depends on other mages, a lot of darkness mages put together can’t do much.

Kingdom Miami (Light) The Light Faction is dedicated to keeping the world bustling and alive at all hours. Ironically, Light Mages are substantially stronger in their wielding abilities during the nighttime (when their light stands in stark contrast to the darkness around them). At the center of their capital stands The Beacon, a light so bright and so tall that it can be seen for miles in all directions. Some say it can even be seen from space, and others that The Beacon is so bright that one in a distant galaxy might mistake it for a star. This probably isn’t true, but people say it, so who knows? The Light Faction is fairly tolerant of both foreign factions and non mages, though their nocturnal lifestyle certainly creates di�culties for those attempting to assimilate. The Light Faction is a kingdom.

The Moh Empire (Earth) A relatively old-fashioned, brutish faction—imagine a combination of toxic masculinity. Physically-able wielders are seen as natural leaders, while softer/emotional individuals are seen as pathetic and weak. Surprisingly, the Earth Faction is not particularly prejudiced against outsiders—they respect strength in whatever form it may come in.


The People’s Nation of Stratos (Air) Being at the crossroads of many of the factions, Air su�ered perhaps more than any during the warring times. Now it is fully invested in the idea of inter-factional cooperation, mostly out of a fear of returning to the pre-Peace Accord times. The government (perhaps with some level of authoritarianism) has cracked down on any form of hate speech towards other factions and even (to a lesser extent) towards non-mages. Prejudice is not tolerated, making Air’s territory an attractive place to live for mis�ts, though it is admittedly very restrictive. It is the most diverse of the factions regarding wielding-type; only 53% of the faction’s population is Air.

The Council of Grey (Non-mage) Although technically not a faction, non-mages (i.e. normal humans with no powers) make up a sizable portion of most of the factions’ populations. Non-mages are treated di�erently depending on the faction in which they reside, though in nearly all they are considered “lesser” (and even in factions that advocate for their rights, such as water or light, they are generally patronized). Non-mages have uno�cial representation through The Council of Grey, an advocacy group that represents the dispersed minority group. The Council of Grey has centers in most of the factions’ cities and is based out of Charlotte, which is the nation’s only majority non-mage city (though it is located in the Water Faction’s territory). In total, non-mages make up approximately 25% of the total population, meaning they are the largest single “faction”. The non-mages, forced to rely on their own intelligence and natural abilities rather than magic, are probably the most technologically-advanced group.


Appendix 5: The Government Systems of Splintered Factions Pyre Federation (Fire) Leader(s): Ryan Swell Government type: Democracy, elected President Notes : President makes most decisions without having to consult a parliament.

The Democratic Republic of Loch (Water) Leader(s): Torben Fuge Government type: Democracy, elected President and Senate Notes : Progressive government; highest population of non-mages (they make up a fairly sizeable minority party in the Senate)

The People’s Republic of Gauss (Storm) Leader(s): Maxamillian LeBlanc Government type: Dictatorship Notes : Storm was previously led by a war-mongering dictatorship, but was overthrown with the help of Katja Stern to force the faction to sign the Peace Accords. The new government is authoritarian.

The Neros Institute (Mind) Leader(s): Tatyana Cardinale Government type: “Merit-based” (government committee selects Chancellor) Notes : Students who received scores within the highest 2% on their �nal exams are o�ered interviews with the Governmental Lower Selection Committee. The Governmental Committee evaluates and selects ten students each year and o�ers them positions within the Government; once in the Government, individuals may move up/down and between subcommittees to advise the Chancellor, who is selected by the Governmental Higher Selection Committee. Everything underneath the Chancellor is highly bureaucratic.

Vox Mortis (Decay) Leader(s): Frederick Moore Government type: Democracy, panel Notes : Seven panel members are elected, those panel members select a Chief Panelist. All panel members serve for life.

The Sanctuary of the Holy Mother (Life) Leader(s): Wanda Dupont Government type: religious (led by “The Sister”)


Notes : Each village/township sends one delegate (all women) as their representative to the capital. Those representatives enter into the Tree of Life and drink the tree’s sap, which is a strong hallucinogenic but apparently provides them with “The Mother’s Clarity”. No one is quite sure what happens in the Tree of Life during this process, but only one representative ever emerges after 24 hours, and that representative is The Mother’s choice to be “The Sister” (their leader) for the rest of his/her life. What actually happens is that they all get super high and aggressive and kill one another, but after the drug wears o� that survivor forgets what happened because they were so wacked out of their mind.

The Nox Republic (Darkness) Leader(s): Leon Fitzgerald (president) Government type: Democracy Notes : They have democratically elected presidents, term limit is 4 years, they have a parliament.

Kingdom Miami (Light) Leader(s): Isaac Dazzle, Radiant King of Miami Government type: Monarchy (king) Notes : The Dazzle family has been in power for the past thirty years in the Light Faction (or kingdom). The title of king is passed down to the eldest son/daughter of the King/Queen upon his/her death or abduction. The last king from outside the Dazzle family, Dordian Gleam, refused to sign onto the Peace Accords, forcing the united factions to invade and dethrone him, breaking a thousand-year dynasty. Isaac Dazzle, a supporter of the Peace Accords and Lord of the Tampa Bay area, was appointed in his stead. Gleam loyalists threw the faction into civil war, but Dazzle crushed the rebellion. The faction is now relatively stable, though many still question the King’s legitimacy.

The Moh Empire (Earth) Leader(s): Brigette Ponse Government type: meritocracy (strength-based) Notes : An esteemed member of defensive/protective services is chosen within the government by a committee to serve a 5-year term. Also has an elected parliament.

The People’s Nation of Stratos (Air) Leader(s): Karla Gustough (air), Patrick Hicinopoulus (storm) Government type: dual-presidency (democracy) Notes : Air, which has fully invested itself in the idea of peaceful relations between factions, elects two co-presidents; one president must be an air-mage, and the other must represent any of the other factions. These two leaders must reach consensus on all issues. If they disagree, a referendum is called. People generally have few freedoms here.

The Council of Grey (Non-mage) Leader(s): Roger Badger Government type: advocacy group, unrecognized


Notes: The Council of Grey is unrecognized and largely ignored outside of the Water Faction, where its o�cial party actually occupies a signi�cant number of seats in the Senate. The Air Faction also has some legislation in place to protect the non-mages. The Council of Grey operates largely as a corporation—on the industry side, it specializes in developing tech for non-mages to be able to compete in the world.


Glossary


Glossary of Splintered Factions Auxilifact : physical objects that skilled mages have imbued with their abilities that non-magic people

to use, e�ects are limited and generally weak

Conduit : tattoos used by people in the (Storm) faction to channel and control their abilities

Council of Man : the Council that represents non-mages across the factions; an advocacy group of sorts that is largely ignored.

Drube : word used by mages to refer to a human who can’t natively use magic.

The Garden : the strong sense of community and sel�essness that all Life mages are expected to subscribe to.

Homo Sapiens Arcana : o�cial classi�cation of mages by biologists

Katja Stern : champion who drafted and campaigned the Peace Accords, half water/half �re faction (cross-breed)

Outcast : a mage living in a foreign territory

Peace Accords : agreement signed by all factions ending the warring times.

Mage : one who wields, normally used by those who wield

Sork : a slur for a Mage who uses his/her powers for vile purposes

The Void : Mages who have fallen into The Void lose all sense of individuality and become essentially brain-dead. The Void is an endless expanse of nothingness.

The Wendy: The most powerful magic being in the universe, with the ability to replicate herself and shoot laser beams of pure energy. Has multiple versions, some of which have become corrupted, and made appearances on other television programs, such as the Masked Sinner, as well as the Wendy Williams show.

Wield : able to use magic, term normally used by those who can’t wield

Documents

Untitled - Sites at Penn State