‘Do you think I should mention this in my report?’
‘You better do. Jakra’s escape was just a matter of time, whereas the knowledge about Huryole’s true purpose will help the Kingdom to better defend from it. With Thrud still at large and most of the knowledge about Arthan lost, they need to know that the Mad King left the ultimate army as a gift for his granddaughter.’ Solus said.
‘I bet that General Vorgh will be pretty pissed off anyway.’ Lith sighed.
***
Grand Duchy of Deirus, Deirus Household. During Lith’s escape from Huryole.
It had been a long time since Jirni Ernas had reached out to her old friend, Archmage Velan Deirus. Right after Yurial’s death, Velan’s son and the fifth member of Lith’s academy group, the relationship between the Ernas and the Deirus Households became awkward.
The slave ring Nalear had put at Quylla’s finger had forced her to cut the young mage’s throat and it had been Phloria’s decision to heal her mother first that led to Yurial’s demise.
Velan considered them responsible and as a mother, Jirni couldn’t blame him. After a while, the two families had made peace, yet Archmage Deirus had never recovered from the loss of his only beloved son and suitable heir.
Velan had many children, but they were all as bad as they came. The Deirus household was a loveless place, so everyone only cared about themself and about enjoying the luxuries that their noble status offered.
Yurial’s siblings had no passion for magic and no love for their subjects. Making any of them the next ruler of the region would be akin to put a fox guarding a henhouse. Velan had searched for someone to adopt, but talented mages were very rare and he didn’t have much time.
After a while, Archmage Deirus resigned to his bloodline ending with him. He started to spend all of his time either in his lab or putting things in order for the families that would take his place once his Grand Duchy would be split into smaller lands.
Jirni and Orion had called to offer him their help multiple times and visited him whenever they could, just to find Velan’s amulet offline and his doors closed.
All the more reason why Jirni was surprised to receive an audience with him in her time of need. After over a year, Phloria’s trial was at a standstill and her career was ruined. Lith had already become a Captain as well and was likely to be promoted again before his discharge.
Even Kamila had surpassed Phloria in terms of ranks after becoming a Royal Constable and being appointed as Jirni’s personal aid. Captain Yehval had no backers nor talent for magic, but she was smart and loyal.
Jirni had all the power a magical household could have, what she lacked were true friends. Having someone trustworthy watching her back was a priceless asset that made Kamila vital to her plans.
Yet a simple aide wasn’t enough to solve Phloria’s problem. Jirni needed to bring the most powerful bloodlines of the Kingdom on her side and Velan would make a fine addition. The Royals were doing all they could, but politics were a poisoned drink.
Exposing themselves too much to help the Ernas would set a dangerous precedent and be perceived as favoritism. Jirni and Orion had to play their part to solve the situation or risk alienating their life-long allies.
“Long time no see, Jirni.” Velan tried to smile, but his face failed him. There was not a shred of joy left in his heart and he was too tired to fake a feeling he didn’t experience in years.
He was a man in his late fifties, about 1.7 meters (5’7″) tall, with red hair and a beard. Brown streaks showed his talent for earth magic that had made him an Archmage whereas grey streaks due to grief and age made him look older than he was.
“What brings you to my door today?”
“We are not friends anymore, Velan, so let’s skip the part where you pretend to care about my problems and I to feign ignorance. You know exactly why I’m here. I want you to stop what you’re doing.” Jirni wore a warm smile that extended to her eyes.
Unlike Velan, she never revealed her true face until she was ready to deliver the finishing blow.
Lady Jirni Ernas was a petite woman, barely 1.52 cm (5′) tall, with blonde hair that extended mid-way down her back and sapphire blue eyes. She wore a beautiful light green day dress worthy of the Court and her hair was perfectly curled, framing her face like she had been taken out of a painting.
She was in her early forties, but thanks to proper care and good genes she looked like she was in her mid-thirties, giving her the allure of a mature yet youthful woman. Many had mistaken her frilly appearance with her real self and most of them died for it.
“What am I doing, exactly?” Velan furrowed his brows. An old butler in a black livery served them one of the finest teas in the Kingdom.Â
“You’re a lucky man, Velan. Or maybe you just timed your attack well, it doesn’t matter. The point is that, without that goddamn undead invasion and all the spy work for the imminent colonization of the Jiera continent, we would’ve had this conversation months ago.
“Once I could finally stop for a moment and think, it didn’t take me much to unravel the mystery behind my daughter’s predicament. The Royals are already on my side and so are most of the ancient magical bloodlines.
“They know all too well the price for standing in my path and striking the Ernas down would set a very dangerous precedent for them. It would mean setting a glass ceiling past which anyone must be shot down, themselves included.
“Hence whoever was prolonging that pointless drama had to be someone from a young yet very powerful household. Someone who could use the massacre of Kulah to stir the still open wounds left by Lukart’s attempts to trigger a civil war.
“Someone who is respected and well received, a leading figure who has suffered a terrible loss and never got justice for it despite his countless merits. Someone like you.” Jirni said.
“You are too kind.” Velan dropped the façade, letting all the rage he harbored toward the Ernas twist his face in a snarl of rage.
“I admit that I would’ve never pulled it off if your daughter didn’t manage to get so many valuable Professors from the young magical bloodlines slaughtered. You old coots can afford to lose one heir or two because the foundation of your power is solid.
“Remaining mageless is nothing but a temporary setback for you, whereas it can spell the end for us commoners.” His voice was amiable, yet every word of his was soaked in venom and spite.
“Also, I need to thank both you and your daughter for providing me such a valuable helper. Do you remember the young Kallion, I presume?” At a snap of his fingers, the door of the tea room opened and revealed the presence of a second guest
Kallion Nuragor was a handsome man in his early twenties, about 1.8 meters (5’11”) tall with pitch-black hair and grey eyes. He had a lean but muscular build that not even his ample mage robe could hide.
