The last time Leonard Exparti saw a carriage, his brother was leaving Telones to marry a noble. Now, he was riding in one.
The clatter of wheels, the rhythmic clop of hooves, and the cool mid-day air drifting through the open window filled the quiet between his thoughts.
"Finally, Sam, I did it," Leonard murmured, leaning back against the seat, his fingers drumming lightly against the window frame. "Fifteen years of chopping that tree, and now I’m headed for Mistra. I’m one step closer to seeing my brother again."
"That’s great, Leo. And I am happy for you," Samantha replied, though there was a dry edge to her words. Her arms were crossed, and she shot him a sidelong glance. "But tell me—why am I stuck in a carriage between two overly competitive idiots?"
"Hey, you cheater!" Mara barked as another one of her glowing pieces on the floating magic board burst into a cloud of bright sparks.
"This is a magic projection, young lady," Wesley replied smoothly, lounging across his seat with a smirk that practically oozed satisfaction. "Literally impossible to cheat. Just admit you’re not as good as you say you are."
“Agh! Whatever!” Mara huffed, flicking her hand to dismiss the game, the pieces dissolving into thin air. She slumped against the wall, arms folded tight.
Wesley chuckled as he pulled a cigarette from his coat, striking it alight with a lazy flick of his finger. The flame danced at his fingertip before it caught, and he blew out a long, slow stream of smoke through the window.
Leonard shrugged at Samantha’s earlier question but said nothing.
Samantha, clearly not satisfied, leaned forward to address Wesley directly. “Sir, what am I doing here? I’m not part of this mess.”
Wesley took another drag, exhaling as though her question barely warranted the effort to answer. “Necessity,” he said simply, flicking ash out the window.
“Necessity?” Samantha frowned.
“Knowledge of Byron Meyers is a top political secret,” Mara cut in, her voice sharper now, as though she was shifting into "official" mode. “If Wesley Valentine here decided to withdraw his protection, you and your boyfriend over there would’ve been dead before morning.”
Samantha’s eyes went wide. “Do we really look like a couple?” she asked, her voice somewhere between outrage and embarrassment.
“Wrong detail to focus on,” Mara muttered, massaging her temples.
Leonard laughed awkwardly. “That’s right, Sam. We should probably be asking how Sir Valentine here plans to protect us from every mage in the Tribunal if they decide we’re too much trouble to keep around.” He turned toward Mara, eyebrows raised. “So, just how strong is he?”
Mara shot Wesley a sideways glance, as if weighing how much to say, then snorted. “Ridiculously so. If the Valentine clan weren’t all free-spirited oddballs, they’d be the ones running the Tribunal, not the Assis family.”
“You give us way too much credit, kid,” Wesley said with a chuckle, waving off her words with a lazy hand. “We just love magic, is all. And when you really love magic…” He leaned forward slightly, cigarette glowing at the end, a sharp gleam in his eye. “Magic tends to love you back.”
“Only a genius would suggest that,” Mara muttered, but there wasn’t as much venom in her voice this time—more like reluctant admiration.
Leonard glanced out the window again, the wind tousling his hair, his thoughts a storm of excitement and worry. "So what’s waiting for us in Mistra?" he asked quietly.
Wesley leaned back with a satisfied grin. “Trouble, most likely,” he said, as if the idea entertained him more than it should.
The carriage marched on, and eventually, evening descended in a haze of violet and rust-colored skies. The wind grew colder, biting at exposed skin, and the forest around them thickened, dark silhouettes swaying with the breeze.
“We’ll stop here. Time to set up camp,” the driver called from the front, tugging the reins to slow the horses.
The wheels groaned as they came to a halt. Mara was the first to hop out, stretching her arms with a loud yawn. Wesley lazily followed, cigarette still dangling between his lips, already inspecting the treeline like he was expecting trouble.
Samantha lingered inside, arms crossed as she glared at nothing in particular, her brow furrowed in thought. Leonard glanced at her before sighing and stepping out.
“You coming, Sam?” he asked over his shoulder.
She hesitated, then sighed and stood, brushing off her coat as she stepped down after him. The others were busy — Mara trying to start a fire, Wesley giving orders to the driver — and soon enough, it felt like just the two of them, standing by the edge of the camp as the last rays of sunlight slipped below the horizon.
For a while, they said nothing, watching as the others worked. Finally, Samantha broke the silence.
"I still don’t get why you’re so calm about all this," she said quietly, arms still wrapped around herself as if bracing against more than the cold.
Leonard gave a soft chuckle. “I don’t know if calm is the word I’d use.”
She glanced at him, unconvinced.
He sat on a nearby rock, picking up a twig and idly turning it in his hands. “I guess when you spend your whole life thinking you’ll never amount to anything, and then someone comes along and says you might be important—" He paused, tossing the twig aside. "You start to believe them. Even if it’s dangerous."
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
Samantha sat beside him, quiet for a moment.
"Important is one thing," she said eventually. "But now we’re in this. Magic, Tribunal politics, whatever Byron Meyers is... You’re not scared?"
Leonard looked up at the sky, watching as the stars began to poke through the darkening clouds.
"Every minute," he admitted softly. "But... I don’t know. I keep thinking about my brother. About how he’s taken care of our family. How he’s risking his life right now. Maybe this is my chance to help him out for once."
Samantha was quiet again, chewing on his words like she wanted to argue but couldn''t.
"...I just don’t want to lose you, Leo," she said, her voice barely a whisper.
Leonard blinked, surprised by her sudden vulnerability.
"You know, I always thought if anyone was going to get out of Telones after my brother, it’d be you, Sam," he said, smiling faintly. "You''re the smart one. The one who sees through all the crap. Me? I’ve been swinging an axe at the same tree for fifteen years."
She huffed a breath that could have been a laugh or a sigh.
"Maybe," she said. "But I never wanted to do it alone."
Leonard turned to her, smiling a little more earnestly. "Well, hopefully I’m good enough for company. You’re stuck with me for now after all."
"Are you doing this on purpose or what?" she murmured, glancing away, but there was a faint smile on her lips too.
The shadows stretched long as the campfire crackled to life. The others laughed and argued in the background, but Byron sat alone in the darkened carriage, unseen. Watching. Listening.
A voice broke the quiet.
"Hey, Lord Meyers, feeling comfortable?" Wesley said, leaning casually against the carriage doorframe, a smirk playing at his lips. “You’ve been quiet the whole ride.”
Byron didn’t move, but his eyes glinted from within the darkness. "Just dandy," he replied. "Free after centuries, now bound to a boy."
"You don''t sound as displeased as I expected," Wesley noted, tilting his head.
Byron''s gaze flicked toward Leonard, who sat laughing with Samantha by the fire. For a moment, something like memory—or regret—flashed behind his eyes.
"Maybe if it were any other kid," Byron murmured, almost too soft to hear.
Wesley raised a brow, but before he could prod further, Byron added, "Anyway, are you going to tell them about the mages in the trees?"
Wesley’s smirk faded, just a little. "Ah, so you sense them too, huh?"
"Of course I sense them. Are you nuts?" Byron said, now fixing Wesley with a sharp look. "Why aren’t they concealing their mana?"
Wesley blew out a long breath, glancing out toward the woods. "Decorum."
Byron snorted. "Centuries without war have made mages lax, it seems."
Before Wesley could reply, the night snapped open — a sound like a tree branch breaking right over their heads.
—But it wasn’t wood.
A lance of lightning tore from the treeline, hissing straight toward the campfire.
"Leo, move!" Samantha barked, yanking Leonard backward by his collar. He stumbled behind her just as the bolt shot through where he’d been standing —
—only to halt midair, caught in a sudden net of glowing golden threads. The lightning hissed, writhing, before folding in on itself and vanishing with a crackle.
Leonard hit the ground hard, gasping.
Wesley stood nearby, fingers raised lazily as if plucking something from the air.
"First rule of magic, kid," Wesley said, not even glancing at him. "A spell’s only as dangerous as the idiot who casts it."
Before Leonard could even blink, another attack screamed toward them — a flurry of razor-sharp ice shards, spinning like saw blades.
"Mine," Mara said with a grin, already stepping forward.
She snapped her fingers, and a barrier of crackling crimson energy flared up in front of them — the shards slammed against it and burst into clouds of steam.
Leonard flinched, staring wide-eyed as the red glow died down.
"Mind if I join in, Sir Valentine?" Mara called over her shoulder, smirking.
"Be my guest," Wesley said, lighting another cigarette like they weren’t under attack. "You could use the practice."
Leonard scrambled to his feet, his hands shaking. "What the hell was that?"
Samantha’s hand landed firm on his shoulder, holding him steady — but her sharp eyes never left the trees. "Focus, Leo. One hit from any of that and we’re dead meat!"
"Y-yeah," he stammered.
From beside the carriage, Byron leaned out lazily, watching it all unfold. "Second rule," he added, smirking, "If your enemy can see your spell coming, you’re already losing."
Leonard swallowed hard, glancing from Samantha’s steady stance to Mara’s glowing hands.
Out in the dark, figures moved between the trees — cloaked mages, their staves lit with dim, swirling sigils.
Mara rolled her shoulders, eyes glinting. "They’re using their staves eh? First time I met someone who’s really going for the kill."
"You harbor the Bloody War Mage!" one of the figures snarled. "You break the Tribunal’s oaths!"
Leonard blinked. Byron?
Wesley exhaled smoke, watching the woods like he was bored. "Yeah, yeah. Get in line."
Then,casually glancing back at Leonard, "You wanna know how magic really works kid?" he said. "It’s about understanding. The better you understand something — the weight of it, the sound, the way it bends — the more real it gets."
Leonard blinked. "You mean you can just... know how to stop lightning and ice?"
Wesley grinned around the cigarette. "If it’s real enough to me, kid? It’s real enough for the world."
Leonard was still trying to process that when another spell shot from the woods — a twisting rope of black flame, snarling toward them.
Mara stepped up, her grin sharp. But before she could do anything, Wesley raised a hand, almost lazily.
"Enough."
With a snap of his fingers, the earth shuddered.
The ground split open with a sound like a mountain groaning. Roots tore free of the soil, snaking through the clearing and slamming toward the cloaked figures.
The attackers barely had time to react before they were yanked off their feet, the black flame vanishing as they hit the ground hard.
Leonard could only stare, his heart hammering.
As the dust settled, Wesley strode forward, hands in his pockets like he was out for a walk.
"You lot make a lotta noise for assassins," he called. "Suppose you wanna tell me who sent you before I get creative?"
The cloaked leader struggled in the roots, eyes blazing. "You’ll regret siding with the War Mage."
Wesley grinned. "That’s my favorite kind of regret."
Behind them, Byron chuckled softly. But when Leonard’s stunned eyes flicked toward him, Byron’s smirk wavered for just a moment, something thoughtful passing over his face.
Then it was gone, replaced with the usual sharp glint in his eye.