On the roof of a monumental tower that rose higher than the clouds, a man wearing regal attire—a cloak with intricate gold embroidery and a crown made of otherworldly materials—sat on an elevated platform with his legs crossed and his palms extended outwards as he chanted unintelligible words and phrases. An ethereal energy continued rising from his palms, spreading all around him.
A tired sigh escaped him, and he opened his eyes, stopping his chant as the ethereal energy stopped rising from his palms.
“Did we succeed?” He spoke out to no one in particular. Suddenly, a man wearing an oversized robe of dark colors, with his head hidden behind a large hood, appeared on the roof. He knelt deferentially the moment he appeared, addressing the imposing man who was still calmly seated on the platform.
“No, sire. The traitor’s flame has been extinguished.”
“And the bait?”
“Negative, sire.”
“Troublesome …” The man didn’t even bother to turn around to respond. “Damn that non-interference treaty. A dying duke and I have to run through all these loops to take that territory.”
“Sire, if I may ask …” The deferential man spoke. “Why is it that we must abide by the non-interference treaty? Who in the guild would be willing to oppose a distinguished one such as yourself? Honestly, I believe that someone would be more than willing to help you with this task just for a chance to curry favor —“
“Winston,” The man interrupted. “Do you know what the status of a Distinguished One signifies? What that title represents. How one goes about attaining it.”
“A mage must toil and research for decades, centuries even, enhancing their craft, innovating it, and bringing a revolutionary change in how the community views their discipline.”
“And do you know why the non-interference treaty only focuses on the Distinguished Ones and not on mages and apprentices such as yourself?”
“No, sire,” Winston responded.
“It’s because the status of a Distinguished One is far beyond just that. It is too early for you to understand what it truly means to have such a status. But we have the power to rend mountains into nothingness, vaporize seas, instantaneously travel to any location within our world at will, and more. If such beings were to start acting against mortals, the devastation would span kingdoms.”
“…” The apprentice was deep in thought. “Then, sire … If I may ask. Why do you want a simple duchy in the first place? What is the point if a Distinguished One is so far beyond a mortal?”
“All in due time, Winston,” the Distinguished One chuckled. “You must first achieve the classification of a mage before trying to think of the path further.”
“I am still in doubt, sire …”
“Speak your mind.”
“If a Distinguished One is so far beyond mortals … What is the need to act from the shadows like this? Who would even find out if you were to act to pluck an insignificant mortal life away?”
The man didn’t respond and instead stood up from his seat. His regal cloak flowed from his back all the way down to the floor while his silk garments gleamed in the moonlight. He turned to look at his apprentice, who found himself mesmerized by the black eyes, with the pupils showcasing a star-like pattern with spokes. Those eyes seemed to pierce through the apprentice’s soul before the regal man finally spoke.
“Curb this arrogance, Winston,” he spoke flatly. “You may be under my tutelage but have no illusions about your position. You are but an apprentice, a squire. In case one day you are hunted by the very mortals you have started to despise, do not expect any support from me. To me, just like them, you are also mortal. It is your privilege to have been allowed entry into my magic tower to practice under me. Do you understand?”
“Y-yes, sire.” The apprentice stuttered with apprehension, transfixed in his spot and unable to look away.
“You will go to Antonine to serve as the court mage for King Domitian.” The mage’s words made an expression of horror appear on his apprentice’s face. “The empire is in turmoil, and you will subtly influence the king’s decisions concerning the fate of the fallen duchy.”
“I apologize, sire!” Winston said in agitation. “Please…please don’t send me there…”
“I would have sent you regardless, Winston. Your current training has reached a point of saturation, and unless you become an official mage, there is little more I can teach you.”
“A mage would never lower themselves to the point of directly joining politics …” Winston spoke with a tremble in his voice. “It is humiliating …”
“Yes. That is my purview,” the man nodded nonchalantly. “But you are a mere apprentice. And mages joining politics is nowhere near as low as you think. Many mages of the guild covertly support the noble houses of not only Antonine but the neighboring kingdoms as well. You must understand, Winston, that the entirety of civilization relies on the presence of mages. Otherwise, those below Distinguished Ones will become obsolete, unable to even survive.”
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“Please, sire. Allow me to advise King Domitian from the shadows.” Winston lowered himself even further than his kneeling position and pressed his forehead against the ground. “I would be disgraced among my peers if I were to be appointed as a mere court mage.”
“My decision is final, Winston,” the man spoke apathetically. “Pack your things. The journey will take you two days on horseback; prepare accordingly.”
“Can … can you, at least, tell me why?” Winston asked. “Why can a Distinguished One not act against a lowly mortal from the shadows? You say that civilization itself will collapse without the presence of mages to oversee everything. Then why is it that an army cannot be made to act at your behest? All it takes is a word from the presiding authority of the Mages’ Guild, and your subjects would compete amongst themselves as to who could execute your will first.”
The man sighed tiredly a second time on the same day. “To you, I am the greatest authority in the land, aren’t I, Winston?” He said rhetorically. “But the non-interference treaty is in place for a reason. And I am not the authority responsible for overseeing it. You are both too young to understand and need your arrogance curbed. The best solution is for you to become one of these lowly court mages that you so disdain.”
“I —“
“Caelus.” A thundering voice resounded through the sky. “How about a chat?”
The man’s expression suddenly changed, losing the calm—something that Winston had never seen happen. The apathetic guise he had maintained in front of his apprentice was suddenly torn. “Go down. Start packing; you are to leave at the first light of dawn. Do you understand?”
“But —“
“Quiet, Winston.”
The man suddenly waved his arm, teleporting Winston away in an instant.
“What’s wrong, Caelus?” A feminine voice sent a shiver down the Distingished One’s spine. “You seemed hurried to get rid of the kid.”
“Not at all, Libitina,” he said, resuming his calm countenance as he turned to look at her.
The woman, identified as Libitina, was wearing an intricate black gown that went down to the floor, dragging some fabric behind her. Her attire had an ethereal quality to it, constantly emitting a dark aura that filled one with dread and the threat of death. She had a tiara on her head, and her raven black hair fell down her shoulders to her waist. An obsidian medallion with a formation of ten skulls at the joints of a pentagram shimmered on her neck and had an attractive quality to it, constantly tempting one to look at it.
“I just didn’t want his presence to foul your mood,” Caelus continued while looking at her politely, making sure not to let his gaze wander despite the temptation. “I am aware of how you react when met with an … unabashed man.”
“There was a storm in Eastern Antonine today,” she said, not looking at Caelus and instead focusing on her well-manicured hand’s fingernails.
“Well … It’s only nature,” Caelus said.
“Seraphem, Solomon, and a large part of the northern frontier were all obscured by an unnatural cloud,” she said. “Try again.”
“I don’t like what you are insinuating, Libitina,” Caelus said. “I have abided by the treaty since it was established. Why would I break it for no reason now? The weather does not make any difference; it never has and never will. What purpose could a storm serve, huh? Drowning a village?”
“Maybe so,” she said. “But I don’t like taking risks when it comes to the treaty.”
Libitina disappeared from Caelus’ field of view, instantaneously appearing in front of him as his eyes showed an expression of panic. She extended her arm with a relaxed calmness as Caelus tried to resist, forming a shimmering barrier in the path of her hand. She tore through it as if it were paper and dug her sharp nails into his stomach, followed by pushing her entire hand through.
A pained groan escaped his lips as he met her eyes. “I. Did. Not. Break. The. Damn. Treaty.” Each word took him considerable effort to enunciate through his gritted teeth. Even in the face of his life flashing before his eyes, he was defiant, showing a confident demeanor.
“I believe you,” she pulled her hand out of his stomach, leaving a gaping wound. Her hand had no traces of blood from Caelus, but there was an ethereal darkness surrounding it, being sucked from him. As she pulled her hand away, the mystical tether broke. She uncaringly turned around, showing her back to him as she stepped away from him. “But it doesn’t hurt to make sure, right?”
“Are we done?” He asked flatly, ignoring her ironic tone of voice as he pressed his palm over his wound and concentrated his energy. The wound closed rapidly under his magic.
“Yes,” she said before turning around to address him one last time. “But Caelus. Be warned. We are closely monitoring the situation in Antonine. If either you or your peers have thoughts of breaking the treaty, you will have me coming for you. Do you understand?”
“Of course, Libitina. You have my word. The Distinguished Ones are not desperate enough to break the treaty over the faith of a single duchy. I will make sure that your words are conveyed to the rest.”
“Good,” Libitina nodded with a satisfied smile. “Now, I don’t think I permitted you to heal your wound, did I?”
Caelus’ brow twitched in anger as his eyes burned with indignance. “Yes … My apologies.”
No matter how unwilling he was, he used the same magic that he used for healing to reopen his wound, wincing at the pain he felt.
“Are you satisfied?”
“You can play with the weather, but make sure you don’t flood places like this time. Antonine is still a developing nation, and such situations can cause a significant loss of life,” she said. “It’s bad for business, don’t you think?”
“Yes …”
“Hm … Your cloak,” she said. “Did you make it yourself?”
“I did …”
“Impressive. I like the intricate stitching and how you weaved it all with magic. It must provide quite a boost to your capabilities,” she said with a smile that grew wider by the second.
“You can have it. I don’t mind.” Caelus’s face was also getting more expressive as the grimace on his face became prominent. He knew what Libitina was doing, and unfortunately, he was forced to play along with her game.
“Really?” She smiled gleefully. “Thank you. Ceres will love it. Let me take it off your shoulders.”
She started walking to him calmly while looking into his eyes. While Libitina was showing amusement and glee, Caelus only had wrath and indignation in his eyes as she stood face-to-face with him. She rested both palms on his shoulders and slowly traced them along the surface of his cape before unlatching the pins from his shoulders.
“I appreciate the gift,” she whispered, close enough to him that their breaths mixed. She pulled the cloak away from him and folded it over her arm. Leaning further forward, she whispered intimately, “You can heal yourself now. I fear if I stay any longer, you will bleed to death.”
Before he could respond, she disappeared from his field of view, nowhere to be found.
“Sadistic bitch …” He cursed under his breath, promptly healing his wound with his magic.