
“I must admit, Deusdedit. You’re the last Guardian I’d expect to show up at my doorstep.”
“Well, strange times call for stranger actions, sir. May I come in?”
Gaius trod the marble floor gingerly, pretending to marvel at the lush interior architecture of Vulcan’s house as though it were his first time visiting it. He walked to the lounging hulk of a man and sat down on the couch opposite him.
A maid scurried over briskly, carrying a golden pot and poured out two glasses of sweet-smelling wine.
“So, what business brings you here?” Vulcan asked.
The glass looked tiny in comparison with his rugged hands, but he was stirring his drink with a surprising amount of gentleness. Gaius ignored his glass of liquor for the moment.
“Warlock business,” he replied simply, watching Vulcan’s eyes sharpen for a brief moment. “I believe you’ve heard of General Theodore Faustus and his numerous titles?”
“Strategist, Warlock, Commander. Yes, I have.”
Gaius leaned forward. “How about First Magi, Founder of Magic?”
There was a tense pause, but both parties kept their expression neutral. Still, it was enough information for Gaius. So, even Vulcan was aware of the abridged history taught to the country. Was it his idea to change the history books? Or someone else’s?
“Be careful, boy.” Vulcan broke the silence and sipped his wine. “Tell me more, and I might just have to arrest you for sneaking around in restricted libraries.”
“Don’t worry, sir.” Gaius laughed politely and took out a golden stamp from his coat pocket. “The means to my knowledge are completely sanctioned.”
The man stared intently at the stamp, while Gaius kept silent. It was a bold move to reveal his hand first, but it was the best move he could make now. If he was right about Vulcan’s personality, bold moves would serve well to lower that man’s guard.
C’mon, leader. Your turn now.
“Looks like I’ll have to re-evaluate my take on you, Guardian.” Vulcan leaned back against his expensive-looking sofa after examining the stamp for a few more seconds. “I’m impressed. Not many people can win the trust of the President, let alone gain access to his personal library.”
Gaius decided to start small. “What can you tell me about Warlock pacts with demons?”
“You’ll learn this in college if you take Dark magic classes, but I suppose there’s no harm in telling you now,” Vulcan said. “A pact goes two ways. For every spell that binds the Magi to a deity, there exists a counterspell to break it. Since the deity takes something from the Magi, this counterspell usually works in the Magi’s favour to balance out the power play. The greater the power granted to the Warlock, the more powerful the counterspell needs to be.”
“Does every Warlock need to make a pact with a deity? Won’t you run out of deities to use?”
“A deity can serve multiple patrons. So no, we won’t. And it is entirely up to the Warlock to choose to make a pact. I have a lot of friends who get along well enough without the support of a deity. You have to understand, some of these pacts really take a toll on the Magi.”
“What did you have to sacrifice?” Gaius asked curiously.
“I was one of the lucky few who got off the hook easily,” Vulcan said. “All I had to do was renounce my father’s surname and take on the name of my deity. So, as you can probably guess, I had chosen Vulcan, one of the gods of fire.”
“I guess that explains your proficiency with fire magic,” Gaius muttered. “This counterspell, does it have to be inscribed somewhere?”
“Now that you mention it, yes.” Vulcan nodded emphatically. “In fact, I was tasked by President Benedictus to search for General Theodore’s counterspell. As you… probably already have read, his pact was for Abaddon to grant non-Metas the power of magic in return for the worship of the demon and the eternal superiority of Magi-kind. A pact so powerful obviously needed an equally potent counterspell. In fact, this spell was so long that it required three tomes to completely inscribe it in its entirety.”
“How did that task go?” Gaius pressed eagerly.
He could not believe his luck. Vulcan was willingly giving out the information he sorely needed, and much quicker than he had intended as well. That man was either a refreshingly genuine person, or he trusted Gaius enough to let him in on such confidential Guardian Council matters.
“I— We failed.” Vulcan’s voice dropped. “The Guardian Council had managed to track down two out of three tomes, but we were thwarted at the last minute by a Magi dressed in all white. It still baffles me to this day who he is. He seemed to know exactly where and when we would strike, and was able to cast the spells of different magic classes. Our casualties were heavy, so we were forced to retreat.”
“So you never managed to get your hands on the tomes at all?”
“You sound like you are doubting me, Deusdedit.” Vulcan chuckled slightly. “No, I couldn’t. I try my best, but I am not all-powerful. This world is getting more dangerous, and I fear I cannot protect this city much longer. Not even… my family.”
A twang of pity stung Gaius. Vulcan didn’t seem like he was lying about anything, and everything in his story added up. But if he was telling the whole truth, this problem ran a lot deeper than Gaius expected.
“Kleopatra is a competent Magi herself, sir.” Gaius nodded, deciding to ponder the implications of Vulcan’s revelations later. “You have nothing to worry about.”
“Your words are kind, boy.” Vulcan smiled wryly. “But that girl likes to look for trouble on her own. If only her mother were still here, I wouldn’t struggle so much trying to shield her from the dangers of this world.”
“Then maybe what she needs from you is a spear to fight them off instead.”
“I’m in no position to give her anything. Especially not when I can’t even fulfil my own duty to make society a better place,” the Vice President sighed. “I know she is training very hard to get into the Guardian Council, but she really shouldn’t be punching above her weight. We all have an important part to play in this society, no matter how insignificant it may be. We are who we are. Nothing can change that.”
Except for an ancient spellcraft that alters your body and changes your race entirely.
“Well, it has been a pleasure speaking with you, sir.” Gaius downed his wine and stood up to leave. “Thanks for indulging me with my q—”
“Gaius.”
He turned back.
“I’m not sure if you are aware yet, but Felix has gone AWOL from the Guardian Council.” Vulcan stood up. “Elpis has already given me a summary of what happened that night. So if you happen to see him, please let me know as well.”
Gaius looked at the man standing up from the chair. Exhaustion was etched on his face, and he seemed much smaller all of a sudden. Vulcan placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder.
“I failed him. I’ve been way too busy trying to track down Titus's main hideout to help him find his sister. I promised him my aid, but I wasn’t there to help him when he needed it most.” His voice was full of regret. “So if I don’t make it on time— If I’m too late, tell him… tell him I’m sorry.”
Gaius’s mind flitted back to Felix’s frustration and desperation that night. His expression hardened as he brushed Vulcan’s hand off his shoulder.
“Tell that to him yourself.”
~ ~ ~
“Break!”
There was a flash of light, and the army of arcane grasshoppers vanished right before they descended on the mannequin. Kleopatra hit her staff on the floor in a victory pose as the lights in the training room flicked on one by one, ending the simulation. She grinned at the lady walking towards her.
“Well done, Kleopatra!” Elpis clapped. “You managed to dispel my familiars instead of blasting all of them this time. Keep practising that spell; it’s a very useful Warlock skill.”
“Took me long enough,” Kleopatra muttered to herself. “My progress is too slow. My dispel charm is only powerful enough to interrupt basic spells. I have to get stronger, and fast.”
“Strength is no less important than competence, dear girl. You’re training to be a competent Guardian, not a powerful Warlock.”
“But what if I want to be a powerful Warlock?” Kleopatra said, her frustrated voice echoing around the training chamber. “I have to show Dad that I can hold my own in this world. My sister is already lucky enough to inherit both Cleric and Warlock abilities. What use am I to him if I’m just a weaker version of my father?”
“I’m sorry, but I cannot help you with that, Kleopatra.” Elpis folded her arms. “My job here is simply to train you for your Guardian Council tests. You may have one reliable spell in your arsenal now, but you’ll need a lot more to be a full-fledged combatant. You’re still not ready to be a Guardian yet.”
Kleopatra slumped her shoulders dejectedly. “I know, I know. But isn’t there anything I can do to grow my magic quickly? What if I need it? I mean, you saw what happened to Felix Pagonis’s sister! Our city is getting more and more dangerous by the day. I don’t want to stand by helplessly while things go to shit.”
“Patience is a virtue you have yet to possess, Kleo.” Elpis shook her head. “Your magic will only grow with age.”
“Or…” A strange look crossed her face. “If you’re constantly involved in real-life combat scenarios.”
“Real-life… Combat scenarios?” Kleopatra asked.
“Alcaeus used to be bullied in school for lacking potential as a Magi. But even so, he sought to fight back against his bullies and change the system that oppressed the weak. Your father was always a stubborn one.” Elpis chuckled. “But that stubbornness made him grow rapidly in power. Sure, he spent more money on healing potions than on textbooks, but his constant scuffles with large groups of people increased his magic capabilities drastically.”
“He never told me all of that.”
“You wouldn’t have believed him anyway,” Elpis said.
“What are you trying to say, Cleric Nerva?”
Elpis looked around to ensure that nobody was listening before turning back to Kleopatra. “Look, I do not condone you going out on your own to gain practical experience.”
Kleopatra stared at her blankly.
“I also do not encourage you to follow our local podcasts for crime hotspots; they are more than often not more reliable than the news. Building a resume before joining a crime-fighting organisation may not be the best way to get in. I’m sorry, but I do not agree with vigilantism. Got it?”
A slight grin crept along Kleopatra’s face.256Please respect copyright.PENANAmCCV3G7z6k