The masquerade continued its enchanting dance of masks and whispers, a perfect backdrop for the gathering of the chosen ones. Calcaw stepped forward, her voice cutting through the air, commanding attention.
"Ladies and gentlemen, it is you who remain in this room, the chosen ones," Calcaw declared, her eyes scanning the assembled group. "I must admit, inviting a student was not part of my original plan, but your remarkable display of abilities has compelled me to change my mind."
Mazigh, a young and inquisitive soul, couldn't help but voice his doubts. "Calcaw, forgive my boldness, but isn't this mission you speak of a suicide mission? How can we possibly hope to defeat the elders, the supposed epitome of power among witches?"
Calcaw met Mazigh's gaze, her expression unwavering. "Yes, Mazigh, the elders are indeed formidable adversaries. They are ancient, experienced, and incredibly paranoid. However, my divination revealed a glimmer of hope. Only if the Four Emperors unite can we stand a chance against the elder magus."
"The Four Emperors?" Mazigh's eyes widened with curiosity. "Who are they, and what do they represent?"
Calcaw's voice took on a tone of mystery. "The Four Emperors embody the rights of each race: human, vampire, witch, and hybrid. They are the chosen ones among their kind, wielding unimaginable power."
Mazigh's voice filled with astonishment. "Hybrids? I thought they were extinct. How can a human be an emperor?"
Calcaw's lips curled into a teasing smile. "Ah, my young Gemini, hybrids do exist, although they have been hunted to the brink of extinction by the very creatures they were born from. The one surviving hybrid, sealed away, is known as The Crow, The Ancient Fear, The Embodiment of Fear."
Mazigh's mind raced with the implications. "What about the human Emperor? How can a human be an emperor?" If humans are considered weak, how can a human, be so formidable?"
Calcaw's eyes gleamed with reverence. "Judas is not an ordinary human. He is an unparalleled warrior, possessing exceptional agility, resourcefulness, and strength. His battle IQ is unmatched, making him a force to be reckoned with. If you ever encounter him, Mazigh, my advice would be to run. They call him The Grimreaper, and it is no coincidence that they call him that, he has slain, thousands, perhaps millions of worthy opponents, be it vampires or witches. Armed with two daggers, one gold dagger, shinier than the sun itself to slay the witches. The other, silver, is more dreamy than the moon itself."
Mazigh's face hardened, determination etched in his expression. "I understand your cause, Calcaw, but I cannot join. I have my own path to follow."
As the conversation continued, Harlequin, ever playful, couldn't resist a challenge. "Mazigh, my fellow shadow dweller, you wish to explore the depths of your potential? Let us try something."
Intrigued, Mazigh nodded, open to the possibilities. "What do you have in mind?"
Harlequin's grin widened, mischief dancing in her eyes. "We share a connection, being of the same family. If I can move from shadow to shadow, perhaps you can too."
With a mischievous flick of her wrist, Harlequin beckoned Mazigh to join her in an experiment. Mazigh obediently stepped into the shadow beneath him, disappearing from sight. Moments later, he emerged from a shadow near a gilded mirror, a triumphant smile adorning his face.
Harlequin applauded, impressed by Mazigh's quick progress. "Well done, Mazigh! Your potential knows no bounds. The shadows are your allies."
Before Mazigh could fully revel in his newfound ability, a sudden shift in reality jolted him. The moment he opened the window, preparing to escape, he found himself standing in front of Mezzetino, the master of time and space.
Mezzetino's voice resonated with an air of superiority. "You see, Mazigh, our abilities are unrivaled, even by the elders. Together, we possess the power to overthrow them. But your refusal to join us shows your lack of understanding, a child tangled in adult affairs."
Mazigh's eyes widened, a mix of fear and defiance in his gaze. "You may mock me, but I won't be swayed. I have my own destiny to fulfill."
Mezzetino's patience wore thin. In a swift, merciless motion, he struck out, stabbing Mazigh's elementalis gland with his hand, his grip unyielding. Pain surged through Mazigh's body, and darkness consumed his consciousness.
As Mazigh's world faded to black, his fate became entwined with the machinations of the Chosen Ones, their quest for revenge taking a treacherous turn. The shadows whispered their secrets, a testament to the imminent clash between light and darkness.