The tension in the archive was palpable, the air thick with the hum of magic. Caelan's fingers tightened around the small tome he had just retrieved, the final piece of the puzzle he had been searching for. But now, Valkar Draith stood in the doorway, his cold eyes gleaming with a predatory malice. The faint glow from the magical torches flickered, casting long shadows that seemed to dance around them.
"I've always enjoyed watching you squirm, Varyn," Valkar said, his voice dripping with contempt. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword, the faint glow of runes etched into the blade catching the light. "You've always been too clever for your own good. Now, I'll enjoy watching that cleverness burn."
Caelan's eyes narrowed, his pulse steady despite the rising tension. The runes along his skin pulsed faintly beneath his cloak, responding to the magic in the air. He could feel the power coursing through him, a steady rhythm that had become as natural as breathing. Valkar was dangerous, but Caelan had faced worse. And now, with the knowledge of Aether in his hands, he had the advantage.
"You should know by now, Valkar," Caelan said, his voice low and controlled. "I'm not someone you can intimidate."
Valkar's smirk faded, his eyes narrowing into cold slits. "You've made a mistake coming back here. Aldric is stronger than you can imagine, and you're still the same arrogant fool who thought he could defy him."
Caelan's lips twitched into a faint smile. "And yet, here I stand."
In one swift motion, Valkar drew his sword, the blade gleaming as it sliced through the air. The runes etched into the metal flared to life, a bright blue glow that pulsed with dangerous energy. Caelan didn't hesitate. His fingers flicked through the air, tracing a rune in the space between them. The symbol flared with light, and a shield of magical energy shimmered into existence just as Valkar's blade crashed against it.
The force of the impact sent a shockwave through the room, rattling the shelves and scattering papers across the floor. Caelan gritted his teeth, the energy of the shield vibrating through him as he held the spell in place. Valkar was strong—stronger than Caelan remembered—but he had grown stronger too.
Valkar stepped back, his eyes burning with fury. "You've learned a few tricks since you ran off."
"I've done more than that," Caelan replied coldly.
Valkar lunged again, his blade cutting through the air in a deadly arc. Caelan's movements were fluid, his hand darting out to trace another rune in the air. This time, the spell was an attack, a burst of raw magical energy that slammed into Valkar's chest, sending him stumbling back into the shelves. Books and scrolls tumbled to the ground, but Valkar recovered quickly, his sword raised once more.
"I'll enjoy cutting that smug look off your face," Valkar snarled.
Caelan's eyes hardened, the runes on his skin flaring brighter. "You can try."
The next strike was fast—faster than Caelan anticipated. Valkar's blade flashed in the dim light, and Caelan barely had time to deflect it with a hastily conjured shield. The magic sparked and hissed as the two forces collided, the air around them crackling with energy. Valkar pressed forward, his attacks relentless, each swing of his blade fueled by a deadly precision that kept Caelan on the defensive.
But Caelan wasn't done yet.
With a sudden burst of speed, Caelan darted to the side, his fingers moving swiftly to draw a series of runes in the air. The symbols burned with power, and before Valkar could react, the floor beneath him erupted with a surge of magical energy. Valkar was thrown off his feet, his sword clattering to the ground as he was sent crashing into the far wall.
Caelan didn't wait. He moved quickly, his hands weaving more runes in the air, trapping Valkar in a shimmering cage of magical energy. The runes glowed brightly, casting harsh light across Valkar's fallen form. Caelan could see the fury in Valkar's eyes, the rage that simmered beneath the surface, but he didn't care. Valkar was beaten.
"You always underestimate me," Caelan said, his voice calm but cold. "That's your greatest weakness."
Valkar struggled to his feet, the magical cage keeping him in place. His eyes burned with hatred as he glared at Caelan, his breathing heavy and ragged. "This isn't over, Varyn. Aldric will come for you, and when he does, you'll wish you had stayed dead."
Caelan stepped closer, his eyes never leaving Valkar's. "Aldric is afraid of me. That's why he sent you here. But I'm not afraid of him. I never have been."
Valkar sneered, his voice dripping with venom. "You're a fool. You don't know what Aldric is capable of."
Caelan's expression remained calm. "And you don't know what I'm capable of."
Without another word, Caelan turned and walked away, leaving Valkar trapped in the glowing runes that kept him pinned to the wall. He didn't have time to waste on the enforcer. He had what he came for—the book, the knowledge of Aether—and now it was time to put it to use.
As Caelan left the archives, his mind raced. Valkar's appearance had been a reminder of just how far Aldric's influence reached. The academy was his stronghold, and the underground city was his domain. But Caelan wasn't here to play by Aldric's rules. He was here to destroy them.
The book felt heavy in his hands as he made his way back through the narrow corridors of the academy. The wards he had dismantled on his way in still held, but he knew they wouldn't stay that way for long. He needed to get out before the alarms were raised. The last thing he needed was a confrontation with more of Aldric's enforcers.
As he slipped through the side entrance and back into the shadowy streets of the underground city, Caelan's thoughts turned to the future. He had the knowledge he needed now, but it wouldn't be enough on its own. He would need allies, people who understood the risks and were willing to stand with him against Aldric's tyranny.
He thought of Roderic Valka, the leader of the underground resistance. Roderic had warned him about the dangers of Aether, about the risks of delving too deep into forbidden magic. But Caelan had never been one to back down from a challenge. If Aether was the key to bringing down Aldric, then he would do whatever it took to unlock its secrets.
The underground city was quiet as he moved through the streets, his cloak pulled tight around him. The book was safely tucked away in his satchel, its pages waiting to be studied. But Caelan knew he couldn't afford to linger. Valkar would find a way out of the magical trap eventually, and when he did, Aldric would know exactly where to find him.
As Caelan approached The Broken Sigil, he felt a presence in the shadows. He tensed, his hand moving to the dagger at his side, but before he could react, a familiar figure stepped out from the darkness.
Liora Greyflame.
Her silver tattoos glowed faintly in the dim light, her eyes sharp and focused as she approached him. "You're making a lot of enemies, Varyn," she said, her voice quiet but firm.
Caelan relaxed slightly, though he kept his hand near his dagger. "I've always had enemies."
Liora's lips curled into a smirk. "More than usual this time."
Caelan met her gaze, his eyes hard. "Valkar Draith."
Liora nodded, her expression serious. "Word's already spreading. Aldric's not going to let this go."
"I don't expect him to," Caelan said, his voice steady. "But I'm not afraid of him."
"You should be," Liora replied, her eyes narrowing. "Aldric isn't like the others you've faced. He's been planning for this for years."
Caelan's jaw tightened. "And I've been preparing for him."
Liora studied him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. "You've got a lot of confidence for someone who's walking into a war they can't win."
Caelan's eyes flickered with determination. "I'm not walking into a war. I'm starting one."
Liora's smirk returned, though it was tinged with something darker. "Then I hope you're ready for the consequences."
Without another word, she turned and disappeared back into the shadows, leaving Caelan standing alone in the street. The city around him was quiet, but Caelan could feel the storm brewing on the horizon. Aldric would come for him soon enough, but Caelan wasn't afraid.
He was ready.