The architects from the feline beastfolk village crowded into my office, their fur bristling with excitement as they laid out the plans for the aqueduct. The largest among them, a gray-furred man named Talmar, spread a massive scroll across the table.
"This," he said, pointing to a series of precise lines and annotations, "is the design we propose."
The aqueduct spanned several miles, an elegant combination of arches and channels that would transport freshwater from the nearby mountain range to Nivara. It was both ambitious and daunting.
"The materials we'll need are considerable: marble for the main structure, reinforced wood for temporary scaffolding, and clay pipes to ensure proper water flow," Talmar explained.
Serena, standing beside me, nodded approvingly. "It's an impressive plan. What about the timeline?"
Talmar grimaced slightly. "If all goes smoothly, we estimate six months at minimum. That's assuming no interruptions, steady labor, and consistent access to materials."
I folded my arms, letting the weight of the timeline sink in. Six months might as well have been six years on the frontier, where every day brought new threats.
"Understood," I said. "Let's get started. I'll handle the resources and manpower. You focus on refining the construction process. Report to me with updates."
The architects left the office, leaving me alone with Serena to mull over the sheer scale of the project.
"Six months?" Serena asked incredulously when she could finally plop down on the nearby couch.
"At minimum," I replied, rubbing my temples. "The materials are doable. Labor is another challenge entirely."
She reclined upside down as she looked at me, her dark hair flowing down towards the floor. "And you're planning to build it near the Zendaria border? Are you trying to piss them off?"
I smirked. "It's the only choice. The underground rivers in the mountains are closest to the city so it gives us the best access to a reliable freshwater source. The second option was the Great River Malkus in the West, but a Great Spirit lives there."
"So pick a fight with the Holy Empire or pick a fight with an Ethereal. No good choices here," she groaned. "But I guess I'd rather pick a fight with flesh and blood people than ghosts."
"Well, I'm glad we came to an agreement," I said with a tired smile. "Now I was hoping you'd have some ideas about our manpower problem."
Serena frowned, then brightened suddenly. "Manpower isn't an issue. I can rally the adventurers and mercenaries in the area. A little coin, a little persuasion—it can be done."
She looked like a regular scammer when she said that, but whatever gets the job done I guess.
"Good. That leaves one more thing." I leaned forward, my voice dropping. "We'll need someone powerful enough to keep the monsters at bay and deter any sudden attacks from Zendaria."
Her eyebrows rose. "And who or what, pray tell, might that be?"
The memory of our first meeting resurfaced, unbidden and vivid. I had been just a boy then, brash and desperate to prove myself. I remembered her crimson eyes locking onto mine, cold and knowing, and the overwhelming feeling that I stood before someone who could end me without effort. Even now, my palms grew clammy at the thought of facing her again.
"Hey, are you alright?" Serena's voice broke through my thoughts as she laid a hand on my shoulder.
I glanced at her, hesitating for a moment before speaking. "There's someone we need to meet—a mage who lives on the outskirts of Nivara. She's… powerful to say the least."
Serena raised an eyebrow. "Powerful enough to scare you?"
I exhaled sharply. "When I met her years ago, my instincts told me she was someone I couldn't hope to defeat. Back then, I avoided her as much as I could. But now…" I gestured to the aqueduct plans on the table. "Now, the city needs her help. Even if it means she kills me on the spot for being rude, I have no choice but to try and persuade her."
Serena studied me for a moment, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "How strange. A man who fights monsters with ease and commands armies, scared of one mage."
"I'm just a man," I replied simply.
Her smile widened slightly. "Then obviously, I'll come with you. If nothing else, I can protect you enough for us to run away."
I chuckled despite myself. "Thank you, Serena. I'll take all the help I can get."
---
The outskirts of Nivara were cloaked in shadow by the time we arrived at the secluded hut. The air here was different—still, yet charged with a faint energy that prickled my skin.
The hut itself was quaint, almost deceptively so, with ivy crawling up its walls and a neatly tended garden in front.
The door creaked open before we could knock, revealing a tall woman with flowing blonde hair and piercing red eyes. She wore a faint smile, her pale skin glowing under the moonlight.
"Adrian Lysvalen," she said, her voice smooth as silk. "It's been a while."
"Celine Orien," I greeted her, inclining my head slightly. "Thank you for seeing us."
Her crimson eyes flicked to Serena, and her smile widened. "And who is this charming companion?"
"Serena Caelthorn," I introduced. "My fiancée."
"Fiancée, oh my. Has the time passed by that quickly?"
Celine stepped aside, gesturing for us to enter. Inside, the hut was surprisingly spacious, filled with books, scrolls, and strange magical artifacts.
"So," Celine said, settling into a chair, "what brings you to my little corner of the world?"
I explained the aqueduct project and our need for her help to protect the construction site. My voice betrayed none of the fear curling in my chest, but I could feel her gaze piercing through me.
When I finished, I waited, bracing for rejection—or worse. Serena's shoulders tensed too.
But her response was unexpected.
"I'll help you," she said softly, "on one condition."
I blinked. "What condition?"
Her crimson eyes softened, growing distant as she gestured faintly to the room around us. "This hut wasn't always so lonely. Many years ago, it was a home—a warm, bustling place filled with love. My husband was a Dwarf: rugged, strong, and with a heart as steady as the mountains he hailed from. The moment I met him, I knew he was the one."
A wistful smile flickered across her lips, tinged with sadness. "I knew his years would never match mine. A mortal's life is but a blink to someone like me. But I didn't care. We spent centuries together, and I thought I'd prepared myself for the day I'd lose him."
Her voice faltered, and for a moment, silence filled the room, heavy and poignant.
"When he passed, it was as though the world itself grew quieter. Something inside me shattered. I didn't know how to exist in a world without him." Her fingers grazed the edge of a nearby book, her gaze far away.
"That's when I cast the spell—a seal that blurred me from the detection of others in order that I may not see another soul. I told myself I'd give myself time to mourn, a century or two to ease the ache. But grief has a way of taking root. It became easier to stay, to let time slip by unnoticed. And so, I've remained... far longer than I ever intended."
I exchanged a glance with Serena, who looked equally puzzled.
Celine continued, her voice quieter. "When you came to me all those years ago, Adrian, I saw something in you. A boy who was scared but determined to change his fate through sheer will. The callouses on your hands, the scars on your body—they were proof of that. And it made me realize that I was just too afraid to move on with my life without him."
She leaned forward, her crimson eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made the air feel heavier. "I want to visit my husband's grave," she said, her voice steady but tinged with a longing that cut through her composed demeanor. "His family took him to the mountains where he was born—following the customs of his people. But the spell I cast to guard this place has twisted over time. Unmaintained, it no longer serves its purpose."
Her gaze flickered with frustration, her hands tightening on the edge of the table. "Instead of keeping others out and honoring my wishes, it does the opposite—announcing my presence to the world while trapping me here, deaf to my own desires."
She paused, letting the weight of her words settle. "I can't undo the seal alone. Help me, and I'll ensure your aqueduct remains protected. That's my promise."
Her tone was calm, but the quiet desperation in her eyes spoke volumes. It wasn't just about the seal or the aqueduct—it was about reclaiming a piece of herself that had been lost to time.
I turned to Serena. "Can you break the spell?"
She studied the room, her brow furrowing. "Not easily. A spell this complex would take time to unravel. The fastest way would be if Celine herself taught me its intricacies. And even then, it'll take me months!"
Celine smiled faintly. "You underestimate yourself, Serena. From where I'm sitting, I see someone who could do it in three days."
Serena's eyes widened. "Three days? That's impossible—"
"Be silent," Celine interrupted, her voice gentle but firm. "And trust the words of a great being. My eyes have never lied to me."
Serena hesitated, then nodded slowly. "Fine. I'll try."
Celine's smile widened, and for the first time, I saw something almost… hopeful in her expression.
"Good," she said. "Let's begin."