Perched atop the tiled roof, Corvis sat quietly, hugging his knees as he gazed out over the castle courtyard. Below, the foreign servants celebrated, laughter and cheers filling the air in waves of festive noise. Faint notes from a piano, flute, and drum drifted up, stirring memories in Corvis, memories that felt both near and unreachable, like shadows on water.
The sea breeze brushed his face, ruffling his golden hair, and Corvis looked up, drawn to the sight of white seabirds soaring across the blue sky. Their cries echoed above, free and wild, and he reached absentmindedly to his neck, his fingers grazing the intricate red magic markings that wound around it like a tattooed collar. The patterns glowed faintly under his touch, a reminder of his binding, his place here as both slave and half-apprentice to Piriano.
He let his eyes fall closed, savoring the rare quiet now that his master was off to the banquet. But he knew it wouldn't last. Moments of peace were fleeting, and Corvis had tasks to complete. As Piriano's apprentice, he was responsible for handling many of the menial but crucial chores his master couldn't be bothered with, from reinforcing spells to maintaining the wards set around the embassy.
Today, with the other wizards scattered across Kantadar, these duties fell entirely to him. Outside the gates, the legionnaires stood guard, but they were useless in matters of magic. This left Corvis as the sole keeper of the spells protecting the embassy.
Rising from his spot, he made his way down from the rooftop, crossing the courtyard with practiced ease. He began his rounds along the ritual nodes embedded in the paths, checking each with methodical precision. First, he inspected the inner circle; all was in order. Then, he moved to the outer circle, following the line of wards along the perimeter walls.
As he reached the backyard, Corvis noticed Elena standing by the statue, her usual quiet spot. For the past two weeks, she had been coming here more frequently, almost daily, to find a moment alone. Today, however, something was different. Though her eyes were red from crying, there was a calmness about her, a glow that hadn't been there before. She even managed a genuine smile in greeting, a softness in her expression that lightened her usually burdened features.
Corvis watched her retreat back into the house, surprised at the warmth that crept into his mood as he saw her smile. She seemed lighter, as if a weight had been lifted, and it was oddly comforting. Shaking himself from his thoughts, he continued his inspection of the wards.
Yet, as he walked to where Elena had just been, he halted, frowning. Something was off. He felt a disruption in the usual flow of magic along the wall; subtle, but unmistakable. Raising his hand, he conjured a circular light, a soft, translucent spell that revealed the patterns beneath the stone.
To his shock, the usually complete and flowing magic paths were cut off, the intricate lines of the spell abruptly severed.
His brows knitted in concentration, and he extended the circle of light along the wall, moving slowly as he traced the disrupted spell pattern. It wasn't until he'd walked quite a distance that he found the other end of the severed magic line. The pattern had been sliced cleanly, almost deliberately.
Corvis stared at the break, a frown of disbelief settling over his face. Had the ward degraded naturally due to neglect? But that didn't make sense, the magic under the wall was stable and deeply rooted. This kind of damage couldn't have happened by accident.
The security spells woven throughout the embassy courtyard were no mere incantations; they had been meticulously crafted by true "Masters of the Position," wizards of high renown who wielded powers far beyond the pretenses of Corvis's so-called "master," Pirieno. There was no way such masters would overlook an error in their spells.
Corvis's brow furrowed as he recalled his patrol from the previous evening; the rituals and protections had been intact then, without the slightest sign of disruption. Whatever had happened here, it was undoubtedly deliberate, a careful and intentional breach in the embassy's defenses.
Yet the scene before him was a puzzle. The once-sensitive warning spells had been tampered with, warped to such an extent that even the outer layers of magic paths were partly severed. But no alarm had sounded. The magic system continued as if nothing were wrong, an unsettling indication that someone — someone skilled — had bypassed the protections without triggering any response.
Corvis dismissed the light curtain, his slender fingers brushing against the faint residue of broken magic as he fell deep into thought. 'Who could have done this?' he wondered. Could it have been Lady Elena?
He shook his head almost immediately. If Elena had such power, she would never have been pawned off as a mere "gift" to his master by the Kantadar nobles. His gaze lifted to the city wall's edge, now defenseless and exposed, a strange restlessness stirring in him for the first time in years. Someone had entered, breached the embassy's wards with purpose. But why here? And why did the gap appear precisely where Elena often stood, seeking solace?
---
Back amidst the lively celebrations outside the castle, Leon pushed through the crowd, searching until he finally spotted Liam, who was anxiously scanning the faces around him. Without a word, Leon grabbed his friend's arm and pulled him into a secluded corner, urgency crackling in his expression.
"I found your sister," Leon said quietly, his voice heavy with the weight of what he'd seen.
Liam's eyes went wide with disbelief, his pupils trembling with hope. "R-Really? You found her?" His hands gripped Leon's shoulders, his voice spilling over with excitement and worry. "Is she alright? Did they hurt her? Where is she? Can I go see her? No, wait; let's find a way to get her out of there. We have to act fast!"
Leon waited, giving Liam a moment to breathe, watching as his friend's initial shock settled. Then, he spoke with a seriousness that brought Liam's attention sharply back. "She's in the Atias embassy. From what I could see, she's safe — well-fed, dressed decently, and with no visible injuries." Leon hesitated, taking a deep breath before delivering the harsher truth. "There's a way to reach her, yes, but it's only enough to get close. If we're going to get her out, we'll need to come up with a different plan."
"Why? Is it because of those guards in the courtyard?" Liam's excitement dimmed, replaced by a flicker of apprehension.
Leon shook his head. "The guards are there, but that's not the biggest issue. If it were just them, I could have gotten her out." He paused, casting a helpless look as he lifted a hand to his own neck. "Your sister told me… she and the other slaves at the embassy are bound by a spell. A wizard placed a deadly curse on them. If any of them try to escape, he can kill them instantly, with a single thought."
Liam's face paled as he processed this, horror flickering in his eyes.
Leon's tone grew somber as he continued, "She's seen it herself. One of the other slaves, he made a mistake, disobeyed. The wizard… he activated the curse right in front of her. Took his life with just a word."
Liam's jaw went slack, his eyes widening with a mixture of horror and helplessness. The very concept of magic, let alone a curse that could kill with a mere thought, was beyond his understanding. He lowered his gaze, taking a moment to steady himself, then looked up at Leon with an almost desperate hope in his eyes.
"Leon," he murmured, "is there any way you can lift this… curse?"
Leon offered a faint, bitter smile, shaking his head. "Do I look like a wizard to you?" He sighed, regret heavy in his voice. "As much as I'd like to, there's nothing I can do; not yet, anyway."
Liam's shoulders slumped as he sank onto the edge of a flower bed, the weight of helplessness settling over him. Anger flickered in his eyes, the start of a fierce resentment toward the wizard who held his sister's life in his hands.
Leon placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Listen, don't lose hope. Your sister's safe for now, and we're not out of options. Let's wait for Brandon to return and figure out our next move together. If nothing else works, we might be able to buy her freedom. Maybe with the right excuse, we can convince those men in black to let her go… for a price."
Liam's spirits lifted slightly, and he nodded, grasping at this slender thread of hope. Though his sister was indeed beautiful, he doubted she would command an exorbitant ransom. Brandon, now a noble in Kantadar, had connections with the Atiyas people. With the right approach, there was a chance.
"No matter the cost," Liam said, his gaze unwavering, "if it means saving my sister, I swear I'll pay you back, every coin, in this life or the next."
Leon clapped him on the shoulder, smiling. "Save that for Brandon's share," he said with a shrug. "As for my part, consider it settled. Or have you forgotten? Back in that cage, your sister gave me water — a small kindness, sure, but one I won't forget." Leon chuckled lightly. "There's an old saying: 'A single drop of water should be repaid with a fountain.'"
Though her act of kindness had done little to alter his fate, Leon had felt that gesture deeply, as though it were the first bond that tied him to this world. And now, she was also the only family his best friend had left, making the decision to help her feel as natural as breathing.
As the castle's celebrations gradually quieted, signaling the close of the evening, Leon's thoughts drifted back to the day's events. The castle was soon given over to the bride and groom for the wedding night, the guests returning to their quarters or the village inns.
After mingling with the remaining servants for a while, Leon eventually returned to his own room. It was there, sitting in the quiet, that the name "Margarina" from Goliad's earlier ramblings sparked a sense of recognition. Suddenly, he realized why the name had seemed so familiar.
The bride's name; the bride of the very wedding that had captivated the entire castle that day was Margarina. He'd heard it a dozen times in passing, enough for it to be imprinted in his memory. It struck him as an odd coincidence, and he couldn't help but wonder if the Margarina Goliad had mentioned was, in fact, the same person. He shook his head. 'Impossible,' he thought. The notion that a notorious poet like Goliad might be having secret trysts with the bride was ridiculous, absurd even.
Still, his mind lingered on it as he waited for Brandon to return. Maybe the name Margarina was simply common, and Goliad's "Margarina" was another noble lady brought by a guest to the wedding. The idea of the poet sneaking around with the bride herself was too outlandish to entertain seriously. And yet… it wouldn't be the first time Goliad had found himself entangled in scandal.
Or perhaps Lord Falcon, the powerful noble hosting this wedding, had been taken by Goliad's peculiar charms and let the notorious bard in on a whim. Either way, with Brandon's return imminent, Leon forced his mind back to the task at hand, finding a way to free Elena.
'That audacious bard might actually pull something as outrageous as sneaking around with the bride,' Leon thought with a shake of his head.
Wait; hadn't Elena recognized Goliad by name? She'd actually called out to him, thinking he was the poet clambering over the wall. Leon's face froze as the pieces clicked into place.
'No, no, no, no…' he quickly reassured himself. 'There's no way Lady Elena would befriend that greasy, wandering poet. She must have just had a passing encounter with him, maybe even by accident.'
Leon stole a quick, guilty glance at Liam, who was deep in thought nearby, silently working out ways to save his sister. Leon decided not to mention this strange connection with Goliad. There was no need to distract his friend — and certainly no need for him to imagine his sister entangled with the likes of that slick bard.
The realization gnawed at him, though. He hadn't dared stay long on the parapet, and when he realized Elena couldn't be freed immediately, he'd left without asking her how she knew Goliad. 'Next time,' he thought, 'I'll get to the bottom of this.'
It was strange, though. Every part of this encounter felt wrong. The odds of him running into Goliad twice, so far apart, were slim. And on top of that, the poet had known the secret passage to the courtyard and even knew Elena, the very person Leon had been searching for. Coincidences like this didn't just happen.
Before Leon could wrap his mind around it, Brandon entered the room, his face weary as he shut the door behind him. With a deep sigh, he slumped into a chair, rubbing the tension from his temples.
"I scoured the banquet hall as best I could, hoping to spot Ms. Elena, but she was nowhere to be found," Brandon said, catching his breath. "Did either of you come across anything?"
Leon hesitated before nodding. "Actually, I found her," he replied, his voice tinged with a mix of triumph and concern. He recounted the events to Brandon, from Elena's presence at the Atias embassy to the terrible curse binding her there.
Brandon's initial excitement faded as Leon described her plight in full. Rescuing someone from the embassy's high security was difficult enough, but with a deadly spell to contend with, it seemed insurmountable.
A heavy silence filled the room as they absorbed the complexity of the situation. Even with all his strategic knowledge, Brandon looked out of his depth.
After a moment, Brandon's expression changed, a spark of thought flickering in his eyes. "Actually… I may have some good news," he said slowly, recalling the red-haired man who had practically cornered him during the banquet. "I spoke with someone tonight, quite a prominent figure who seemed unusually eager to talk. And he might just be our way in."
"At the banquet," Brandon began, leaning forward, "I unexpectedly met an Atias noble named Pirieno. He's the highest-ranking official at the embassy and could very well be the wizard responsible for Elena's captivity."
Leon's eyes narrowed thoughtfully as Brandon continued. "Pirieno seemed unusually interested in our fabricated story about my 'noble lineage.' He was fascinated with the idea of investing in my background as 'the Son of Casoles' and helping me 'reclaim my family's lost lands.'"
Brandon held up an invitation letter he'd drawn from his coat. "Before he left, he invited me to visit him at the embassy to 'discuss the matter in detail.' I was already considering this as a way to sneak into the embassy, but now… it seems our best chance."
Leon and Liam exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of surprise and intrigue. This was a rare and unexpected breakthrough, one they hadn't anticipated.
Still, doubts lingered. Atias customs remained a mystery to them, and they couldn't be certain of how Pirieno might react to a request to purchase a female slave. Among the nobles of the Western Continent, such an offer would often be taken as an insult unless the nobles shared a close bond. Yet, if Pirieno truly saw value in supporting the "Son of Casoles," Brandon might use this as a means to build political rapport.
They pondered the possibilities, brainstorming through the night. Perhaps, Brandon could pose as a young noble who had become smitten with Elena at first sight. It was a simple yet classic way to test whether the Atias nobles would consider letting her go. The idea was far-fetched, but in their desperate situation, it seemed worth exploring.
As they talked late into the night, they dissected each scenario and crafted various strategies. Liam, normally reserved, was surprisingly open to the unconventional idea, understanding that rescuing his sister took precedence over pride. In his heart, he knew his late brother-in-law would put Elena's safety above all else, even if it meant bending tradition.
Finally, exhaustion overtook them. Leon and Liam retired to the servants' quarters, but sleep came fitfully. As Leon lay there, he found himself silently pleading with Miss Lola, the enigmatic magic consultant who had helped him in the past. He didn't expect an answer, but he couldn't help but hope she'd somehow lend her wisdom to breaking the spell on Elena's neck.
Only silence answered him. Frustrated, he rolled over, knowing that without more guidance, his role with Miss Lola might amount to little more than acting as her unwitting tool, unfit for tackling serious magical challenges.
The next morning, with the wedding festivities still in full swing, Brandon seized the opportunity. He led Leon and Liam; posing as his servants, to the Atias embassy, ready to make good on Pirieno's invitation and, hopefully, set their plan into motion.