The days after the fight, the camp buzzed with rumors about the confrontation. Whispers followed Evan wherever he went, apprentices stealing glances and murmuring to each other as he passed. The story had spread quickly: Evan, a novice, had single-handedly defeated Lareth and his group, leaving one of them severely injured. The details were exaggerated in every retelling, but one thing remained constant—Evan was now a name that carried weight.
Evan ignored the attention, his mind already focused on refining his Ember Engine. As he walked toward the mission board, intending to plan his next steps, a figure stepped into his path. It was an intermediate apprentice—tall and broad-shouldered, with a faint smirk that hinted at authority.
"You're Evan, right?" the apprentice asked, his tone leaving no room for denial. "Follow me."
Evan hesitated. He didn't recognize the apprentice but could feel the weight of his presence. "Why?"
The smirk widened. "Someone wants to meet you. Don't waste their time."
After a moment's pause, Evan nodded, falling in step behind the apprentice. They walked in silence through the camp, heading toward a secluded area near the training grounds. As they approached, Evan noticed a small group of apprentices waiting for them. There were five in total, and one face stood out: Jonas.
Jonas's smirk was as irritating as ever. He leaned casually against a tree, his arms crossed, as Evan approached. The other apprentices stood in a loose semicircle, their postures radiating confidence. Evan recognized none of them except Jonas, and the familiarity did little to ease his wariness.
"Welcome, Evan," Jonas said, his tone sharp and authoritative. "We've been hearing a lot about you. That little stunt with Lareth… impressive."
Evan didn't reply, his eyes narrowing slightly as he glanced at the group. He had no idea what they wanted, but the way they surrounded him felt deliberate.
Jonas gestured toward the others. "This is The Crimson Pact. Maybe you've heard of us?"
Evan shook his head. "No."
Jonas raised an eyebrow. "Figures. We don't exactly broadcast our existence to novices. But we're one of the most influential groups in the camp, especially for those aligned with fire magic. And we've been watching you."
Another apprentice stepped forward, a tall boy with short, cropped hair and a sharp gaze. "We know your nucleus is aligned with fire," he said bluntly. "We've seen the way you fight, and we've heard the rumors. You're not just some lucky novice."
Evan tensed slightly but kept his expression neutral. They didn't know the truth about his Ember Engine, but the assumption of a fire-aligned nucleus worked in his favor. For now, he decided to let them believe it.
Jonas reached into his satchel and pulled out a rolled piece of parchment. He handed it to Evan. "This is a commitment contract," he explained. "Sign it, and when you reach the intermediate level, you'll join us officially."
Evan unrolled the parchment and scanned its contents. The terms were clear: upon advancing to intermediate, he would pledge his allegiance to The Crimson Pact. In return, he would gain access to their resources, including exclusive fire magic spells from the library. The group would support his growth, but in exchange, he would be bound to them.
Jonas's voice turned sharp, almost condescending. "This is how you grow in the camp, Evan. Groups like ours hold the keys to advancement. We monopolize the best fire spells in the library, creating a rotation system to keep them out of reach for anyone outside the group. If you want access, this is the way."
Evan's hands tightened around the parchment. The offer was tempting on the surface—access to powerful spells and the support of a group known for their strength. But the authoritarian tone, the way Jonas spoke as if Evan had no choice, grated on him.
"And if I refuse?" Evan asked, his voice calm but cold.
Jonas shrugged. "Then good luck growing on your own. Without access to the spells we control, you'll hit a wall. Sure, you're talented, but talent only gets you so far."
Another apprentice chimed in, smirking. "Don't think of it as a threat, Evan. It's just the way things work around here. You can't win alone."
Jonas stepped closer, his tone dropping to a more menacing level. "Sign the contract, Evan. It's your best chance. Don't waste this opportunity."
Evan rolled the parchment back up and handed it to Jonas. "I'll think about it," he said curtly, his tone making it clear he had no intention of committing.
Jonas's smirk faltered, replaced by a cold glare. The air around him seemed to shift, growing heavier. Evan felt the temperature rise subtly, as if the heat itself were emanating from Jonas. For a moment, it was as though Jonas's very skin began to ripple, faint distortions making it look like it might bubble and boil at any second.
"Think about it?" Jonas repeated, his voice low and seething. "Where do you think you are?"
The words hung in the air, charged with a strange intensity. Before Evan could respond, a faint breeze swept through the clearing, carrying with it the soft song of a distant bird. Jonas froze for a split second, his brows furrowing slightly. It wasn't fear that crossed his face, but something closer to uncertainty—a flicker of doubt that passed almost too quickly to notice. The heat in the air receded, and the rippling along his skin seemed to settle, returning to its usual sharp and composed form.
Jonas exhaled slowly, his tone regaining its cold, authoritative edge. "Go. The next time I see you, that contract had better be signed."
Evan didn't respond. He turned on his heel and walked away, his thoughts racing. The encounter left him both wary and curious, the flicker of instability in Jonas's demeanor raising more questions than it answered. Whatever had just happened, Evan knew one thing: he needed to be prepared.
The idea of being tied to a group like The Crimson Pact left a bitter taste in his mouth. He didn't trust Jonas, and the thought of giving up his independence for access to their resources felt like a betrayal of everything he had worked for.
Back in his tent, Evan sat cross-legged, his nucleus pulsing faintly as it continued refining the Ember Engine. He stared at the swirling patterns in his mental space, using simulate to track the progress of the latest subproduct combinations. But his thoughts kept drifting back to the encounter with The Crimson Pact.
"They monopolize spells to control others," he muttered to himself, frustration creeping into his voice. "And they call that growth?"
He needed another path, one that didn't rely on aligning himself with a group he couldn't trust. The idea of fire spells was tempting, but Evan knew he could carve his own path if he pushed himself hard enough.
The next day, Evan headed to the library. This time, he avoided the fire magic section entirely and instead focused on books about runes. He wanted to expand his knowledge of concepts, to deepen his understanding of the intricate mechanics that governed magic. The more he knew about runes and their definitions, the more powerful his simulations would become.
He spent hours poring over texts, taking meticulous notes and sketching diagrams in his notebook. Each new piece of information felt like a step forward, a way to refine his Ember Engine further and make it truly unique.
As the sun set and the library began to empty, Evan closed his notebook and leaned back in his chair. He didn't need The Crimson Pact. He would find his own way, one step at a time. And when the time came, he would show them—and everyone else—that true power didn't come from control or coercion.