A common enemy may unite, but never forget it can turn on you when the fight is done.
The Ebony Mage
The air smelled of fresh bread and tea, but the tension was thick enough to cut through. I leaned back in my chair, letting the weight of my words sink in. "We're going to need a spatial isolation spell."
Livius froze, his cup hovering mid-air. "You're not serious," he said, his voice low. "That would take hundreds of mages, Shay. Hundreds."
I nodded, already expecting his reaction. "I'm aware."
Mazen frowned, leaning forward. "Then the white mages should take care of it. It's their specialty."
Livius shook his head, his curls catching the morning light. "Even if we gathered every white mage in the region, it still wouldn't be enough. Spatial isolation on this scale is—Shay, it's impossible."
"Not if we combine forces." My voice was steady, leaving no room for debate. "Mazen, you'll command the dark mages. Together, we'll secure the spell."
Mazen bristled, his hand clenching around the edge of the table. "No. I'm not leaving your side."
"You won't have to," I said, though the edge in my tone made it clear the conversation was over. "I only need a few artifacts from you—mirrors. Anchors to pull us out if things go wrong. After that, you'll oversee the mages."
"And who's going in to face the Time Mage?" he asked, his tone sharp.
I let my gaze sweep the room, pausing briefly on each of them. "Me, Alex, Lilinette, Des, Mose, and Rolo."
Mazen's mouth dropped open slightly before he scoffed. "That's your team? The most incompetent group you could assemble?"
Lil snorted into her tea, choking on her laughter. "What?!"
Mazen turned to her, exasperated. "I wasn't talking about you," he said quickly, his tone clipped. His eyes then flicked pointedly toward me. "I was referring to the mage who can't control his magic, the barely mage who barely has any magic, the meek werewolf and the one-handed, handicapped hunter."
I leaned back in my chair, letting Mazen's frustration burn itself out. "And yet," I said after a moment, my voice calm but firm, "this is the team I'm taking."
Mazen shook his head, rubbing a hand over his face. "I still think you're insane."
"Probably," I admitted with a smirk. "But you're still going to make sure we have those mirrors, aren't you?"
He sighed heavily, muttering something under his breath.
I tapped my fingers lightly on the edge of the table. "Luna will help stabilize the magic. She's the best we have for that kind of intricate control. I'll also bring in my personal doctor—they're used to patching us up after ridiculous stunts—but Livius, I'll need you to contact as many healers as you can."
Livius raised an eyebrow at my command but didn't argue. Instead, he turned slightly and signaled to an apprentice who had been hovering by the doorway. The young mage nodded and quickly disappeared, only to return moments later with a small group of assistants, each carrying heavy crates.
With a wave of his hand, Livius directed them to set the crates down in the middle of the room. "Here," he said, gesturing grandly, "everything we'll need for communication. Artifacts of all sorts—long-range crystals, enchanted mirrors, scrolls, even some portable glyph-carving kits."
Lil leaned over the nearest crate, whistling low as she picked up a shimmering orb. "You've been hoarding all of this, haven't you?"
Livius smirked. "Preparedness isn't hoarding. Besides, what's the point of having resources if you don't use them when the world's about to collapse?"
I crouched down and sifted through a crate, pulling out a sleek communication crystal that hummed faintly in my hand. "This will do."
Mazen crossed his arms. "And what happens when these break, or we can't get a signal through? You're going to be in a spatial isolation spell, Shay. Things will get messy."
"Then I'll have your mirrors as a backup," I said, standing and meeting his gaze. "You're always two steps ahead, remember? You'll make it work."
Mazen grumbled but didn't push further. Livius, meanwhile, began organizing the artifacts with practiced efficiency. "I'll assign apprentices to distribute these where they're needed," he said. "We'll have enough coverage to reach everyone—assuming, of course, your plan doesn't get us all killed."
I flashed him a grin. "It's a solid plan."
"Debatable," Livius muttered, but there was a spark of determination in his eyes.
As the apprentices bustled about, distributing the communication artifacts under Livius's watchful eye, the atmosphere in the room thickened. It wasn't just the weight of impending war—it was the unspoken tension of knowing what was at stake.
I straightened up, dusting my hands off and addressing the group. "The spellcasters working on the isolation spell will need absolute protection. We can't afford interruptions, and we can't waste time fighting on multiple fronts."
Mazen raised an eyebrow. "And how exactly are you planning to clear those fronts? You're not seriously thinking of taking them all head-on."
"Actually," I said, turning to meet his gaze, "that's exactly what I'm planning. Lil and I will lead the offensive. The faster we take out the enemy mages, the quicker we can start the spatial isolation spell without interference."
Lil raised her teacup, her grin sharp as a blade. "So, we're tanking most of them, huh? Sounds like fun."
Mazen's disapproval was immediate. "That's reckless. You'd be exposing yourselves while the rest of us—"
"While the rest of you secure the foundation for the spell," I interrupted firmly. "Mazen, you'll command the dark mages and ensure they keep the formation stable. Livius, you'll do the same with the white mages. Each of you will have your hands tied."
Mazen pressed his lips into a sharp line, but I didn't let the silence linger.
"We also need small squads guarding your positions. No one gets through to disrupt the isolation spell," I added.
Livius frowned, his fingers drumming against the table in a steady rhythm. "That's a lot of mages," he muttered. "Even pooling resources, it's a strain. We're stretched thin as it is, Shay."
I leaned forward, resting my arms on the table. "I know. That's why Lil and I will clear the field fast. If we can break through their front lines and cut down their numbers, your teams can focus entirely on the spell."
"Breaking through their front lines isn't a simple task," Mazen said, his tone sharp. "And what about the Time Mage herself? She won't sit idly by while we lock her in."
I let out a slow breath. "She won't be sitting idly by, but that's exactly why the isolation has to happen quickly. The moment her allies are out of the picture, she loses her strongest defense. It's a risk, but it's the only play we've got."
Livius still looked unconvinced. "Even so, coordinating this many mages is a logistical nightmare. They'll need to be briefed, trained together, and prepared to hold their ground under pressure."
"Then start now," I said simply. "We've got fifteen days. I need you and Mazen to make this work."
Lil grinned from her seat, her confidence unshaken. "Don't worry about us—we'll make sure the field is clear for your spellwork. Just make sure the mages don't get cold feet when the time comes."
Livius snorted softly. "We'll do our part."
Once the meeting dispersed, I motioned for Lil to follow me into the adjacent study. She trailed behind, her usual smirk tugging at her lips. The door clicked shut, muffling the distant murmur of voices from the dining hall.
Lil leaned against the edge of the desk, crossing her arms. "What's this? A secret rendezvous? If you wanted to confess something, Shay, I'd have preferred flowers."
I raised an eyebrow, caught off guard for a moment by the shift in her tone. "Flowers? Lil, if I wanted to confess something, it wouldn't be with something so… predictable. Maybe a night under the stars. Or a dagger engraved with your name—practical and poetic."
She laughed, a genuine, unrestrained sound that lit up the room. "A dagger? Really? You'd think that would woo me?"
"I'm full of surprises," I quipped, leaning back. "But I'll admit, I was worried when I couldn't get a hold of you yesterday."
Her smirk faltered for a second before she shrugged. "I was training. You know how it is."
I nodded slowly, though I already knew. Simon had shown me snippets of her relentless drills: the hours she poured into perfecting every movement, pushing herself far past the limits of most mages. I admired her dedication, but it didn't stop the uneasy knot in my chest.
"I know you've got this, but…" I said, my voice quieter. "Remember my promise."
Lil's eyes flicked to mine, her teasing gone. "I remember."
"Good," I said, keeping my tone light despite the weight of my words. "Because if you decide to go full martyr on me, I'll have to find someone else to flirt with, and honestly, no one else keeps up like you."
Her smirk returned, sharper than ever. "Oh, Shay, I'd love to see you try."
For a moment, the tension eased, replaced by the familiar rhythm of banter that always seemed to ground us. But even as she laughed, I couldn't shake the flicker of unease.
(...)
The lounge was warm, lit by a crackling, magical fire that bathed the room in a soft, flickering glow. Eden was already seated when I arrived, lounging in one of the high-backed armchairs, looking every bit as composed as I'd expected. His posture was casual, but there was a coiled energy in the way he held himself like a predator pretending to nap.
I took the seat opposite him, sinking into the plush leather, and we were face to face now—two strangers who had already sized each other up before a word was spoken.
For a long moment, neither of us broke the silence.
Eden's green eyes, impossibly vivid against his dark skin, held mine without hesitation. There was no politeness in his gaze, no attempt to downplay the fact that he was assessing me just as much as I was him.
Finally, he smiled—a small, deliberate quirk of his lips. "You don't waste time, do you?"
I tilted my head slightly. "Neither do you. So why are you here, Eden?"
He leaned back, resting one elbow on the armrest, his fingers drumming lightly against the leather. "Because I like to know who I'm working with. Mazen seems to think highly of you, but I prefer to form my own opinions."
"Working with?" I raised an eyebrow. "I didn't know we'd reached that point."
"Let's not kid ourselves," he said smoothly. "The Time Mage is a threat to both of us. I'd rather not waste time debating whether we're on the same side."
I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. "And you think sitting here staring at me is going to tell you everything you need to know?"
Eden chuckled, low and rich. "More than you might think. People give away more in silence than they do in words. You, for example—you don't trust easily, but you also don't dismiss people outright. That's why you're still here, isn't it?"
I didn't respond immediately, letting the silence stretch again. He wasn't wrong, but that didn't mean I had to hand him the satisfaction of admitting it.
"And what about you?" I asked finally. "What's your angle in all of this? You don't strike me as someone who fights wars out of the kindness of his heart."
Eden's smile turned sharper. "I have my reasons. Let's just say I don't like it when people try to rewrite the rules of reality without consulting me first."
"So, it's about control."
"Isn't it always?"
The fire crackled between us, filling the brief pause. The air in the lounge shifted subtly, a whisper of tension curling around us like the first hint of a storm. I watched as Eden's fingers, still drumming lazily against the armrest, stilled. His impossibly green eyes glinted in the firelight, and I recognized the quiet challenge in his gaze before he even spoke.
"Words are cheap," Eden said smoothly. "If you want my alliance, you'll have to show me you're worth it."
Before I could respond, the air between us thickened with the scent of earth and blossoms. Tiny green shoots sprouted from the cracks in the wooden floor, growing with unnatural speed. They twisted and coiled, ivy leaves sharpening into jagged edges as they snaked toward me.
I didn't move. Instead, I merely let the monster hum to life, a faint, simmering aura that pulsed against my skin from the inside.
Eden leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his expression calm but intent. "Do you know what these can do, Shay?"
The vines halted a breath away from my boots, their razor-sharp edges trembling with anticipation.
"I've heard stories," I said evenly.
Ivy that can slice through bone, seeds that burrow under the skin. And, of course, the infamous blooms that poison the air.
Eden's smile widened. "Stories don't do it justice."
He flicked his fingers, and one of the vines lashed out like a whip, slicing the armrest of my chair cleanly in two. I still didn't move, holding his gaze steadily.
"Impressive," I said, my voice calm. "But what's the point of this little demonstration?"
Eden's eyes narrowed, the green glow in them intensifying. "You think I hand out my magic for free? Show me your strength, Shaytan. Prove you can stand against what's coming."
The vines reared back, lashing toward my chest with deadly precision. I didn't dodge. I didn't even flinch. The first tendril slashed through the fabric of my shirt, biting deep into my skin.
Eden leaned back in his chair, his expression betraying a flicker of intrigue. "Interesting," he murmured. "Most people would have at least tried to defend themselves."
"I'm not most people," I replied, my tone even. "I didn't need to dodge."
I set the monster free. It was purring, hungry for Eden's blood. I felt a vicious smile spreading on my lips. Before Eden's eyes, the wound knitted itself back together, the flesh mending as if the attack had been nothing more than a scratch.
Eden's green eyes narrowed, flickering with both caution and intrigue as he watched me grip the razor-sharp vine. Blood seeped from where the thorns dug into my palm, but I barely noticed. The monster within me stirred, its low, guttural purring resonating in my chest.
Eden's expression remained calm, though his fingers tapped lightly on the arm of his chair. "And here I thought you had no magic," he mused.
I felt the vine tremble in my grasp, almost as if it recognized the predator in me. My smile widened, a slow, deliberate curve of my lips that revealed a glimpse of the hunger I kept chained—barely.
I leaned forward, still holding the vine in my grip, my eyes locked onto his. "It's not magic."
In that moment, those unsettlingly green, always calculating eyes widened. But before he could have argued, I grinned.
"You wanted a test, huh?" I said, my voice a quiet growl.
With a single twist of my wrist, I yanked the vine taut, the thorns slicing deeper into my flesh. The monster purred louder, reveling in the pain as if it were a mere appetizer. The vine writhed, trying to recoil, but I held firm, pulling it closer.
I tightened my grip on the vine, feeling the thorns dig deeper, sending more blood trickling down my arm. The monster inside me thrummed with approval, but I kept it in check. "This is what I am. What I've always been."
Eden's fingers stilled, his impossibly green eyes narrowing as they studied me with renewed intensity. The room seemed to grow quieter, the tension coiling like a spring. Eden's gaze flicked down to the vine I still held and then back to my face. His eyes lingered on me as he took in the details.
The dark sclera of my eyes contrasted sharply against the icy blue of my irises, their glow faint but unmistakable. His gaze traveled upward, pausing on my snow-white hair, and then back down to my expression—a mixture of calm and challenge.
"Fascinating," he murmured.
His fingers resumed their tapping on the chair's arm, his gaze flicking to the blood-soaked vine on the floor. "Not fae, not vampire... not anything I've ever encountered," he muttered, almost to himself. "You're something else entirely."
I tilted my head slightly, letting a thin smile curve my lips. "That's the polite way of putting it."
Eden's eyes sharpened. "Then what are you?"
I straightened, letting the question hang in the air between us. "Something that doesn't belong in your world—or any other. Not fully."
He leaned forward now, his curiosity unmasked. "A creature without origin. Without kin."
Eden's posture shifted, his relaxed demeanor giving way to something sharper, more deliberate. "And yet you move among them. Why?"
I let the vine go, watching it fall limp against the floor as the wound in my hand began to close. "Because I have to," I said, my voice low but firm. "It's about what needs to be done."
Eden's smile returned, faint but calculating. "True enough. But you're not answering my question."
I met his gaze, my smirk fading. "Because the war we're fighting isn't just theirs, Eden. It's mine too."
"And right now, you need to decide if you're going to stand with me or keep wasting time asking questions you won't like the answers to."
The silence between us was heavy, charged. For the first time, Eden seemed at a loss for words. Then he sat back in his chair, a slow, deliberate smile spreading across his face. "You're full of surprises, Hueless King. I think I'll enjoy seeing just how many more you have in store."
"Glad to hear it," I said. "Now, let's put those surprises to good use."
Eden glanced at his watch, his fingers brushing lightly over the timepiece. "I'll reach out to Mazen," he said, his voice low but steady. "But it's time we conclude this meeting."
I studied him for a moment, the cool detachment in his demeanor leaving little room for further questions. It was clear he wasn't going to divulge anything more, and he was already shifting away from the conversation.
I raised an eyebrow. "Was my company so boring?"
"I have dinner plans," he said casually, though his voice had a subtle shift.
For a moment, Eden's face remained as unreadable as ever. But those intense green eyes—eyes that were often guarded and distant—seemed to soften just a fraction. The change was gone almost as soon as it appeared, replaced by his usual detachment.
I leaned back in my chair, a little lost in thought. For a moment, I almost felt like I'd caught a glimpse of something he didn't want to show. But it was gone now, swallowed up by the cold precision he'd wrapped himself in again.
"Well," I said. "I guess we'll see if this alliance works."
He nodded and left. I let out a sigh. There was still a lot to get done—and I had no intention of leaving things to chance.