One small step by a single soul can rewrite the fate of many.
Strongest Mage
By the time I returned to the kitchen, the broken mug was gone. Rolo sat in the same spot, his gaze distant. Whatever conversation they'd had during the storm, whatever silent truths they'd exchanged, it weighed heavier on him than any magic ever could.
Alex had joined him, sitting silently by his side. His presence was less about words and more about quiet solidarity. Rolo didn't look up as Alex leaned forward slightly as if to offer unspoken reassurance.
Berti was standing behind me, his footsteps soft but perceptible. He peered past my shoulder, his gaze flicking briefly to the kitchen. He hesitated, then stepped back.
"I hope this is not a goodbye," Berti said, his voice subdued.
Alex rose to his feet and tried for a smile, though it wavered at the edges. "It's not goodbye," he said, forcing a lightness that didn't quite reach his eyes. "You'll be back before we know it."
Berti's faint smile didn't last long. "Sure," he replied, the word hollow.
The silence stretched before I turned and led the way to the door. Berti followed without looking back.
The night air outside bit at our skin. Des was waiting by the curb in an old car, leaning casually against the side as though he didn't have a single worry in the world. His rugged appearance betrayed him; his shirt was torn, and his face bore a few fresh bruises and cuts.
"Car's warmed up," Des said, nodding toward the vehicle.
Berti couldn't travel with magic, so we had to endure the luxury of wheels for the next hour. He slid into the backseat without a word, staring out the window like the distant horizon held the answers to questions he hadn't yet asked.
Des caught my eye before I opened the passenger door. "You good?" he asked, his tone softer than usual.
I nodded curtly, but my chest felt heavy. I climbed in, letting the door shut behind me. The engine hummed as Des started the car, the faint vibration filling the silence. The drive to the shimmering dome of the spatial isolation spell stretched ahead of us—a long, tense hour that felt like an eternity.
The dome loomed ahead of us, an iridescent bubble shimmering faintly under the moonlight. Even from a distance, the sheer magnitude of the spell was overwhelming. As we approached, I could see the army of mages forming an unbroken circle around it, their focus unwavering.
Lil stood at the forefront, expression full of concentration. Beside her, Mazen's hands glowed faintly, threads of his magic weaving seamlessly into the barrier. Livius and Vio were to their left, their postures tense.
The dark mages and white mages were chanting seemingly without a pause to even breathe, and even the lust mages, often carefree and wild, were entirely immersed, their collective magic strengthening the dome. The air vibrated with power, dense and electric.
Des parked the car a short distance from the dome. Berti hesitated before stepping out, his gaze locked on the swirling energies ahead. Well, he looked… small.
I placed a hand on his shoulder, stopping him before he could move closer. He turned to me, his eyes searching mine for something—reassurance, a reason to believe.
"You've got this," I said firmly.
Berti let out a humorless chuckle. "How do you know?"
I didn't hesitate. "I've known you for four lifetimes, Bert. You're the strongest mage alive in this era. You'll succeed because it's who you are."
He blinked, caught between disbelief and a nervous laugh. "You're joking, right?"
I met his gaze evenly. "No," I said simply.
The laugh died on his lips as realization struck.
Before he could respond, Lil called out, her voice carrying over the hum of magic. "We're ready!"
Berti squared his shoulders and took a step forward.
The mages worked in seamless harmony, their magic pulsing as they began to open the first layer of the dome. The shimmering edge bent and twisted, a narrow slit forming within the barrier. The outermost layer peeled back with painstaking precision, revealing the intricate lattice of magic beneath. The sheer tension in the air was palpable as the mages adjusted, their efforts ensuring that not a single thread of the volatile magic inside could escape.
"Go," I urged, my voice steady despite the tension coiling in my chest.
He hesitated for the briefest moment before stepping into the gap.
The moment his form slipped inside, the dome sealed shut behind him with a sharp, resounding hum. The swirling energies stabilized once more, and the oppressive power of the loop was contained.
I stood at the edge of the shimmering dome, eyes locked onto it. It was an opaque prison, a barrier between us and the world of time frozen in its second-long loop. The mages surrounding me were tense, their magic intertwined and glowing as they held their breath. The seconds ticked by with a maddening slowness, each one stretching into an eternity.
It could have been minutes or hours that passed; the way time warped in that moment made it impossible to know. The silence was broken only by the pulse of energy vibrating through the air and the erratic breathing of those gathered around me.
A whisper of doubt crept into my mind. Had Berti been inside for a second, or had an age passed? Was he still in there, fighting the impossible, or had he been swallowed by the magic? The only clue I had was the thundering pulse of energy that radiated from the dome, throbbing in my chest like a second heartbeat, signaling that something—something profound—was happening.
When Berti touched the dome, I couldn't see him, but I could feel the subtle shift. I braced myself, half-turned toward the mages to see their reaction, but all their eyes were locked on the dome, refusing to turn away.
And then, without warning, a shudder traveled through the air, shaking the ground beneath us as if the earth itself had gasped in surprise. The dome collapsed just like that.
The energy, raw and pulsing with a life of its own, rippled outward, spreading like an invisible tide that tore through the world. Colors exploded into the sky in a shockwave that sent the mages tumbling and left the world reeling with the intensity of magic unleashed. It erupted with a force that made me stagger backward.
The shockwave unfurled like a phoenix's wings, a tempest of multicolored light that bled through the sky in vibrant tendrils. It was ancient magic, untamed and profound, carrying with it echoes of a time before time—a power so raw and elemental that it seemed to tear the very fabric of reality. I felt the raw power lick at my skin, burning yet thrilling. In that instant, I knew the impossible had happened.
The hues of it shimmered in shades that no one had ever seen: burning golds that spoke of forgotten empires, deep blues that whispered of oceans yet to be born, radiant reds that glowed like a dying star's last breath. It was a magic that hummed with the resonance of ages, carrying the weight of gods and the whispers of those who had wielded it before they were forgotten.
Trees splintered in an instant, their trunks cracking apart as if a giant's fist had struck them, leaves torn from their branches and whirled into the tempest. Mages tried to weave magic, their spells faltering, their voices drowned out by the roar that seemed to fill the world.
The air was filled with the sound of thunder, but not the kind that came from storm clouds; this was deeper, older, like the drumming of ancient giants awakening from a long slumber. Time, which had felt so stretched and broken, snapped back to a cruel, relentless flow.
And at the center of it all stood Bert. His confusion was clear, his hand still in the air where the dome had been.
His eyes were wide, searching the faces of those who had witnessed the spectacle. It wasn't just confusion that marked his features—it was a complete lack of understanding. His magic had protected him, acting before his mind could catch up.
I thought he hadn't noticed all the ancient magic that surrounded him inside the dome. He did not even realize what he had unleashed into the world, for the ancient magic that shook the earth and swept away the armies of the mages could not even touch him.
A thin, shuddering laugh escaped me, raw and disbelieving. I couldn't help it—this was Berti, the strongest mage I had known across four lifetimes, and yet here he stood, clumsily caught in the aftermath of his own power.
"Oops," he said finally, his voice uncertain. It was a comment that felt strangely hollow because he had no idea what had actually happened. "I mean... Can someone explain what happened here?"
He hadn't felt the pulse of ancient power, the hum of millennia-old magic that had been bound within the dome. He hadn't known that, even as he broke the loop, the raw energy of the magic itself had been unleashed, a force so potent that it could have sent the world reeling.
"Bert," I said, stepping closer, a laugh caught between relief and disbelief. "You didn't just break the loop—you let loose all the magic from the Moonlight Casket."
The others were starting to pick themselves up, groaning as they dusted off dirt and leaves that clung to their robes. Some mages looked around with wide eyes, mouths agape, their expressions a mix of awe and terror.
The shimmering, shifting colors in the sky had already begun to fade, leaving behind an uneasy silence broken only by the crackle of broken branches and the steady thrum of magic that still tingled in the air. The energy that had erupted had left its mark—not just in the devastation but in the subtle hum of magic still crackling through the ground, the trees, and even our skin.
His eyes widened, and the realization sparked in them like a flare.
"I did?" Berti's voice was small as if he were trying to convince himself of the truth. His fingers twitched, and he looked down at them as if seeing them for the first time.
"Yes," I confirmed, smiling despite the weight of what had happened. "You did."
Mazen was already assessing the damage, but even he couldn't quite hide the awe in his expression as he looked at Berti, the strongest and most unpredictable mage alive.
"I thought I was just…" Berti trailed off, his expression shifting between exhaustion and wonder. His magic had acted on instinct, defending him from something he never even registered. But now, the power was here, vibrating in the air and weaving into the fabric of the world itself. He glanced at me, his gaze steady. "Did we do it? Is it over?"
I nodded, the humor still dancing in my voice. "It's over. You saved the world."
He chuckled, a sound that felt like the first light after a long storm.
The aftermath was a chaotic symphony of murmurs and questions. The surviving mages slowly picked themselves up, their eyes wide with awe and uncertainty, their robes torn and dirt-smeared.
The air was heavy with the scent of magic, raw and fierce, seeping into the soil and leaving it teeming with something alive. It was no wonder, then, that when Vio stepped forward, his sharp gaze locked on me, the murmurs halted, giving way to a stunned silence.
"You—"
Vio's voice cut through the air like a blade, laced with barely concealed offense. He stood tall, eyes narrowed as he assessed Berti, then shifted his glare to me. His eyes, dark as a midnight storm, were as cutting as his voice.
"Where did you find him?" he demanded, his words echoing with authority, every syllable a challenge. "Where did you find a mage so powerful that he could break through a barrier with a single touch?"
I couldn't help the smirk that tugged at my lips, the tension of the moment tinged with something almost playful. "I guess the world's full of surprises, Vio. Who knew there'd be a mage stronger than you?"
Vio's eyes sparked with indignation, the veins of his pride laid bare. "Stronger than me? I should remind you that I was the one who shouldered one-third of the barrier's burden. Alone. Without me, the magic would never have held."
The air around us seemed to crackle, the mages nearby exchanging glances that spoke more than words ever could. I nodded, recognizing the truth in Vio's claim. It was clear from the way the mages had shifted their posture, from wary observers to something bordering on reverence. They'd seen Vio hold his own, saw him stand at the heart of the barrier's creation, the invisible thread that tied the whole spell together.
"You're right," I said, letting the humor slide out of my voice but not the edge. "You were the one who kept it together. And you still are strong, Vio."
Vio's eyes narrowed further as if measuring the sincerity in my words. "But?"
I raised an eyebrow, leaning in just enough to show I was serious. "But now you know there's always someone stronger."
"What?! You little—!"
I grinned and shoved Berti forward like a human shield. "Bert, say hello to Vio's temper tantrum."
Berti blinked, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. "Wait, what—?"
Before he could finish, Vio's spell erupted. It was a burst of pure violet lightning, sharp and crackling like an angry storm. The blast slammed into Berti, who stood there as if someone had lightly tapped him on the back with a feather. The energy spread out around him, fizzling harmlessly as he tilted his head in surprise.
"See?" I said, laughing as the mages around us dove for cover, tripping over each other like in a slapstick comedy. One mage screamed as they tumbled into a bush, only for the bush to shake as if protesting the intrusion.
Vio's spell bounced off Berti like he was a living rubber wall. Berti looked down at himself, a sheepish grin starting to form. "I'm... okay?" he asked, unsure.
Vio stared at him, blinking as if he couldn't believe what had just happened. "That should've—"
"Oh, come on," I said, chuckling. "Bert's tougher than he looks. You'll need more than that."
Vio's eyes narrowed, a smirk curving his lips as he eyed Berti, who was now standing tall, looking almost bemused by the whole ordeal. "More than that, huh?" Vio said, taking a measured step forward. His fingers crackled with power again, this time sparking with more intensity.
Berti shifted his weight, eyes wide with an anticipation he couldn't quite mask. "Uh? Maybe let's not do—"
Before Berti could finish, Vio unleashed another blast. It was no longer a playful jab but a real surge, deep purple and blistering with energy. The force sent Berti stumbling back a step, but the blast barely left a mark. Mages nearby ducked and shielded their faces as the shockwave pulsed outward.
"Impressive," I muttered, stepping out of the way as the energy splintered trees and scorched the grass.
Vio's eyes gleamed with challenge. He pulled energy in, a pulse building in his chest that crackled and hummed like a storm about to break. With a roar, he sent another wave at Berti, stronger and faster than the last. This time, Berti's grin faltered, but he stood his ground as the violet magic raged around him, blinding and ferocious.
The mages around us hit the ground, one shouting, "Is he insane?" The trees cracked and groaned, some splintering into jagged spears that pierced the earth. And still, Berti did not fall.
Vio, chest heaving, stared as the magic surged against Berti, futile in its attempt to break through. The area trembled, and with a breathless pause, Vio lowered his hands. The storm of power dissipated, leaving a tense, humming silence.
"Still standing, Bert?" I called out, trying to keep the humor alive, even as my chest pounded from the raw force of Vio's last attack.
Berti lifted his head, his smile shaky but defiant. "I think so."
Vio's hand shot out once more, and this time, his power coiled and lashed out like a beast. This time, it was no longer just a spell—it was a test. A torrent that sent a shockwave rolling through the field, nearly knocking me off my feet.
But Berti wasn't just standing anymore—he was holding the force back, both hands spread wide as if to stop a mountain from crashing down on him. His muscles tensed, veins pulsing as the magic struck.
His eyes locked with Vio's, something fierce flaring in them. He pushed against the torrent, and with a roar that matched Vio's, Berti shattered it, sending the purple energy whirling into the sky in disarray. It cracked and dissipated like storm clouds fleeing at dawn.
Vio raised his chin with a smirk. "Well, little minion," he said, voice low and grudging, "you're officially insufferable."
Then he looked at me. Vio's glare could've cut through steel, but there was an amused twitch at the corner of his mouth. "You're lucky I like you, Shay," he muttered. "Otherwise, I'd be more merciless with my magic."
Berti, now fully awake to the absurdity of the situation, threw up his hands and let out a nervous laugh. "Uh, maybe don't test that, okay? I think I'm still processing the fact that I'm... invincible now?"
The tension cracked, and even Vio couldn't hold back a full laugh as he let the magic in his fingers flicker out. The mages, now cautiously peeking out from behind trees and rocks, exchanged bewildered glances.
I slapped Berti on the back, the sound loud enough to make a couple of nearby mages flinch.
"Hey!" Vio interjected, pointing a dramatic finger at Berti. "Watch what you're saying. You did not win. You could never defeat me."
"Whoops," I said, elbowing Berti again. "Looks like you've got yourself a rival."
Mazen tactically chose this moment to come and sour my happiness.
"Shay," he said, his voice calm but carrying an edge of urgency. "The mages have secured the perimeter, and the initial sweep confirms the loop's collapse. But…" His eyes darted to Berti, who was now slumping slightly, trying to regain his composure. The shock of the last attack still flickered in his expression.
"But what?" I pressed, my voice low, cutting through the low murmur of the mages behind us who were coordinating the sweeping efforts.
Mazen sighed, running a hand over his face as if trying to push away a weight pressing down on him. "We don't know what the magic from the casket will do. Its origin is still a mystery, and that unpredictability is what worries me."
I tilted my head, considering this for a moment, then shrugged. The gravity of his words didn't settle into me as they might have for others.
"You'll figure it out," I said, casting a sidelong glance at Berti. "You're the mages, Mazen. Not me."
Mazen's brows knit together, his eyes narrowing with a mixture of frustration and disbelief. "And what will you do, Shay?"
I smirked, the familiar sharpness of my confidence returning. "Go home, of course." I gestured at the chaos surrounding us, the humming, flickering energy. "This is your problem now."
Mazen's expression hardened at that, an almost smile tugging at the corner of his lips, but it didn't reach his eyes. "I should have guessed that much," he muttered under his breath.
I shot him a look that could have been mirthful or challenging, I wasn't sure. Then I turned, watching the mages work, their faces illuminated by the kaleidoscope of magic they were casting. They moved like a single, unified force, and I knew that together, they would keep the world standing.