***

Since apparently catching criminal mages isn’t a job for ThauCon agents, I decide I might as well work on Quicksilver’s new assignment, a report about the base personnel. Sadly, it involves a lot of talking to people. But being new in the base and a foreigner in Vorok, I find interacting with strangers easier than usual - they expect me not to know stuff.

Team Blue is easy, of course. I already know much more about my teammates than I ever expected, or wanted, to learn about colleagues.

Team Green isn’t hard, since they share our duty cycle - they’re on standby when we’re on active duty and vice-versa. They’re despondent and lazy, but asking a few questions - most of them to Kaelich, who seems to get along with everyone - it turns out they have some real combat experience. They were deployed in Saevin, where the scars of the Zelenian rebellion still spawn demons.

Team Red is easy too - they’re not very talkative, but everyone else has a lot to say about them. They’re veterans on paper, but they look and behave like they’re veterans from a gang war. Most agents avoid them, and apparently, word is that they were involved in a violent incident, but it couldn’t be officially pinned on them.

It’s harder to get to know teams Orange and Yellow, since they have families and live off base. I decide to leave them last, and move to Team Gold, our heavy team.

They, at least, are a pleasant surprise: seeing them during official functions, I had thought they were elderly washouts waiting for retirement.

It turns out that they’re past retirement age, and they’re pushing eighty - they’re serving willingly and will soon be forced to retire. While they spend a lot of time off base, and have no watch duty shifts because they’re veterans, when I introduce myself they’re atypically friendly to me. To my surprise, I have a nice chat about training routines with Khor, their blademaster. He’s a huge man who talks enthusiastically about skewering rebel mages.

Between talking to them and to Kaelich, I learn they fought in the Kalestran war in their youth, and distinguished themselves in the Zelenian Revolt as veterans. They were transferred to a placid provincial base because no one could get them to retire.

It’s mixed news. These people look like they know their business in a fight. But they also look like they might die of old age during their next deployment.

After chatting with the Blademaster, I check my personnel list, and I realize Team Gold’s mage is the only active-duty person in the base I haven’t even met. He doesn’t even join the Engday oath.

How can I subtly lead the blademaster into giving me information about the mage? I consider several indirect questions, then I remember Quicksilver’s suggestion: just ask.

“Oh, by the way,” I say, trying to make it sound like a random thought, “Where is your Council Supporting Agent, if I may ask? I don’t think I have met him so far. I’d like to introduce myself to him too when I get the chance.”

Khor’s shoulders stiffen. The smile stays on his face, but it no longer reaches his eyes. Did I violate some stupid social norm? I knew just asking wouldn’t work for me.

“It’s good that you want to meet mages, too,” he says, nodding as if pleased, but there’s some tension in him. “Too many agents behave like mages aren’t even part of the team. And that’s bullshit, trust me. Council mages bled with us in Zelenia, and they saved my ass just as often as my sword did. Mark my words, getting along with your team mage is one of the best things you can do to live to retirement age. Not that you seem to have any difficulty with that part,” he adds, and his smile becomes a sly one.

Lady of Life, does he think I have a crush on Althea, too? How? He saw us together only during the oath ceremony! It must be Kaelich spreading gossip. I can’t possibly be that obvious.

“I, uh, thanks for the advice,” I say, stammering a bit. “So, when could I meet your mage?”

He looks away. Was he trying to deflect my question?

“Za Ruik spends a lot of time in our quarters,” he says. “He… doesn’t always feel well. But you’re in luck, he’s up and about today. He must be somewhere in the Core, he likes staying close to the Theta Disruptor. Yes, you should definitely meet him. He’s one of us, after all.”

He nods, forcefully, as if trying to convince himself.

What’s wrong with Za Ruik? Even Kaelich couldn’t tell me anything about him. Is he like the geriatric version of Jaeleri? No one warned me about Za Ruik’s personality, though. Maybe he has the decency of being a reclusive asshole.

Well, I might as well find out by myself. I thank Blademaster Khor, who suggests we spar in a friendly duel - I nod as if I were onboard, but I’m absolutely not going to spar with him. If he has a stroke, everyone will blame me for it.

I walk through the catastrophically unsafe silver doors, into the Base Core. It isn’t very large, it’s supposed to be an emergency fallback if the base is attacked, so I won’t have to search for long. Why would a mage like standing so close to the Theta Disruptor, though? Althea hates it.

Za Ruik definitely hasn’t gone to the cells, the armory is empty, the reactor is off-limits without special authorization. I check the floor plan on my tablet, and make my way to the last rooms I haven’t checked.

There are two more rooms here, I remember from my equipment survey. Item Containment Facility and Secure Emergency Room. Maybe he’s in the Emergency Room, stealing medical equipment? There was nothing but moldy band-aids left in stock anyway, but maybe he’s a thorough thief.

I notice, however, there’s a line of bright silver light under the door to Item Containment Facility.

The silvery light is of a pure, beautiful color. It doesn’t reflect on objects as it should – it’s almost like a translucent fluid seeping from the door’s edge. It’s the light of the Else. There’s active magic in the room.

Could it be Team Gold’s mage? What is he doing? The Containment Facility should be used only as temporary storage for magical items – books, else-glass constructs, artifacts, or objects with permanent magical anchors.

And what if it isn’t him? Lord of Seas, please tell me we’re not sitting on a cache of undeclared, deadly relics or something like that.

Of course, any unexpected use of magic within the base should trigger a zillion alarms. But at this point, do I trust the alarms? Should I wear full combat armor before going in?

Well, my field uniform – which I’m wearing right now – carries three kilograms of silver. If that’s not enough, it means there’s a fucking demon inside the room, in which case I’d rather die than hear the captain say really, every old building has an abomination from beyond reality lying around in some room, it’s nothing to worry about.

I swipe my wrist over the pad, and the door opens.

The room looks like an unused warehouse, with rows and rows of dusty silver-and-glass containers, most of them empty.

But in the center, there’s a three-meters-wide ring of silvery light, radiating from the floor. It’s surrounded by a network of interconnected glyphs, almost like circuitry. Inside the circle is a man, sitting cross-legged, his expression peaceful. His arms and his face look like smooth, silver-tinted glass.

I stand by the door, frozen – is he trapped in the circle? Is Team Gold’s mage being held in the base? But no, it doesn’t make sense, containment circles don’t work on humans. Lady of Pains, what…

“Kalain, I thought you were… Ah, wait, you’re the new girl,” he says, smiling. He closes his eyes, and the silver lines on the floor gradually dim, until they disappear. His arms and face still glow, though.

The lights – the regular, non-mystical LED strips on the ceiling – turn on, and I see he’s wearing a faded red tunic, which probably once had golden trim. A council mage.

But how can he be Za Ruik? This guy is thirty years old at most. He’s thin and reedy, his youthful face shows a carefree smile, and he has a messy mop of curly hair - the kind that wouldn’t fit a helmet and be against regulations for a soldier.

“I don’t think we have met, yet,” he says. He sounds distracted, maybe amused. He closes his eyes again, and slowly, as if with great reluctance, his arms and face turn back to flesh. He’s dark-skinned and blue-eyed - Taerish, definitely.

“I don’t think so,” I say. “I’m private Cerical.”

Should I say nice to meet you? Is he even Za Ruik? And what is he doing? I honestly can’t tell if I caught him committing some crime against existence, or lying inside a magical circle is a normal hobby for mages.

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My confusion must tell, because he laughs.

“I’m Master Za Ruik Es-Morat, or what is left of him. I’m the supporting council agent to Team Gold.” The name is Taerish, but he speaks perfect Fallish - I’d think him an immigrant, but he has no tattoos. And what does the rest even mean?

“Nice to meet you,” he goes on, “and welcome to the most boring city on Refuge. And, since you’re obviously curious, I was just meditating. The containment circle in this room interdicts… well, basically, it keeps the Else away. It’s relaxing.”

So, he is the mage. How can he be so young? But of course, there’s no reason he should be Gold’s first Team Mage, he might be a replacement for a mage who retired, or died. Maybe that’s the reason for Khor’s awkwardness - despite his words, he doesn’t think of Za Ruik as a part of his team.

“I… thank you for your welcome. I was, uh, trying to introduce myself to everyone since I’m new here.”

Stupid, stupid. That sounds like work for an assignment, not small talk, which is especially bad because this is work for an assignment.

He nods, and I suspect he’s trying not to laugh.

“Of course,” he says, smiling widely. “A friendly, outgoing young woman like you would definitely go look for a creepy, reclusive mage, just to introduce herself.”

Lord of Seas, protect me - there’s something wrong here. He talks as if he knew me, and this time I can’t blame Kaelich’s penchant for gossip.

Belatedly, something clicks in my mind. “Master Za Ruik?” I ask. “Master as an actual rank?”

I scan his face and send a query through my implants, looking for a datasphere profile. Nothing. He doesn’t have implants, of course, but the other Council mages still have a public profile, if barebones. I catch myself wishing he had tattoos - these fucking Karesians are getting to me.

He bows to me, affectedly, and I feel I’m the butt of a joke that I don’t get. Which is pretty much my usual try to make conversation experience.

“No one told you?” He asks. “I thought Team Gold was still the best piece of gossip around. Ah, we’re really getting old, if the youngsters don’t whisper behind our backs anymore. Anyway, yes, I’m a Master of the Path of Sight. By far the most powerful mage in this base, at least on paper. I fought in Kalester and Zelenia, I watched the Exiled descend from the Moon and join battle – even if I only saw her from very far, fortunately. But don’t worry. I don’t bite. I don’t do much anymore, really.”

I’m thoroughly confused. A Master is a level four mage – they’re usually assigned to super-elite teams or importante regional HQs. And the war in Zelenia ended three years before I was born, there’s no way he’s that old… oh. Wait. Powerful mage. They age slower as they disincarnate. He is as old as his teammates, but most of his body is now in the Else.

“Sorry, I… are you in active service or not?” I ask. It feels stupid to ask, but I can’t make sense of this. If he’s an extremely powerful mage, why is he here? And why haven’t I met him before?

“On paper, yes,” he says, serene. “Team Gold deploys where there’s a kitten on a roof, a teenager to scare into joining the Council, or any such emergency. Mind you, my buddies are very real veterans, with more combat experience than the rest of the base combined. In a combat situation, you want them by your side. Just don’t ask them for war stories, they’ll never shut up. But I’m… less useful, you should know. I’ve used too much magic, too many times, in Zelenia. It saved us all, back then. But…”

He shrugs, and looks at a random point on the wall, with rapturous interest. At first I search for something on the bare concrete, but then I make some mental calculations, and realize – he’s looking at the Moon.

“You’re…” what am I supposed to say? Veil-mad? Going crazy?

“You’re aware,” I finally say, “there are support services for veterans?”

I want to slap myself for my stupidity, of course he knows – but then why is he registered for active service?

“There are support services for ThauCon veterans,” he corrects me, gently. “But yes, the Council has similar institutions. Retirement homes, except the nurses are ready to stab you with a silver knife. I considered going into one, at least there's no bad weather in the Glass Tower. But my teammates couldn’t follow me there, and they’re stubborn. So, I’m stuck with them until someone manages to make them retire, or they crumble to dust.”

Oh, wonderful. So, our veterans stay on duty because they don’t want to leave their extremely powerful team mage, who happens to be one bad day away from veil-madness. This place gets better and better.

“Well, thank you for telling me, I’ll make sure to take it into account,” I say, because what else can I say, not only your power is a threat to reality itself, you’re also a waste of public money, but thank you for warning me you’re useless and dangerous?

“You’re welcome, Cerical,” he says. “Go make your report. Maybe if you submit enough reports, someone will finally fix the heating in the R&R room, and fire that goat Malartis.”

I freeze, staring at him. What does he know? And who is he going to tell? My heart beats faster - something here is very wrong.

“I told you,” he says. Suddenly, he looks me straight into the eyes. I thought he was looking at me before, too, but now I feel his silvery glare, like a physical force, like it’s piercing through me.

“I’m not your enemy,” he says, sounding more serious than he did so far. “But I am an Oracle, and I see many things, much as I try not to. And you haven’t been subtle.”

His fingers are turning again into silver light. If he’s so powerful, and so far gone, he must make a conscious effort to keep his body flesh and blood.

“I’m… just checking the state of the base, and introducing myself to everyone,” I say. I catch myself taking a step back, toward the door. “I have to work here, after all.”

“That’s a truth,” Za Ruik nods. “Not all the truth, but honestly, I don’t really care. I don’t think you mean harm to us. And I’m too old for games. Just be careful, Kal… no, Cerical. Even a friendly chat can be dangerous, if you ask the wrong questions to the wrong people. There’s deep rot in your Agency. It was there in Zelenia, and it worsened ever since. You don’t want to attract the wrong kind of attention.”

“Are you threatening me?” I ask, because that’s a sentence I usually hear from movie villains.

The mage laughs, as if that was the funniest thing he ever heard. His eyes glow pure silver. “I barely remember who I am, most days. Today is a very good day, and I still don’t know what year we are in. I’m in no condition to threaten anyone. And I’m loyal to the Alliance, believe it or not. I already gave most of my life for it.”

“So,” I press him, “whose wrong kind of attention are you talking about?”

I realize I’ve dropped any pretense of a polite chat. But he clearly has at least an inkling of what I am doing, so what’s the point in keeping up the ruse?

Za Ruik tilts his head. “Do you really want that question answered, Cerical? I don’t know exactly whose attention you should avoid. But I could look into it. If you so wish.”

Is he offering to help me? I honestly can’t tell, but I don’t see what I could lose by it.

“I, uh… sure. Thank you,” I say.

He nods, very serious, and gets up on his feet. His face has completely disincarnated again, even his hair has turned to silvery light.

He takes a step out of the circle, toward me, and I flinch as he crosses the line on the floor. Well, at least I’m pretty sure he’s not a demon.

“I see the future more clearly than the present, these days,” Za Ruiks says. “Look into my eyes.”

At a loss, I force myself to meet his otherworldly, glowing gaze.

Again, there’s the feeling of a force, of something sharp and burning going through me, all over my body, but somehow in no specific place. I realize, feeling like an idiot, that by look into it he wasn’t talking about making subtle inquiries.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“I See,” he answers.

Suddenly, the room is bathed in silver light - no, I’m pretty sure my mind is flooded by silver light, it’s wherever I look. I try closing my eyes, and the light doesn’t dim at all.

The glow comes from everywhere, and yet in its glare I cast a shadow - no, many shadows, more and more of them every moment, splitting from each other, then raising up into tridimensional shapes.

Soon there’s a full procession of shadows, like a parade sketched in black, standing silently behind me. The line is far, far too long to be contained in this small room, and yet I can see them all, hundreds of black outlines, splitting into thousands in the distance, smaller and fuzzier the farther they go.

They’re all me. Some in armor, some with their sword raised. A lot are reading, talking to invisible figures. One is me kneeling, hands pressed against my chest, black drops of shadow blood gushing from the wound. One is… well, pleasantly busy with a partner that I fortunately can’t see. More shadows form every second, become more defined - Lady of Light, what is this?

“Your future is full of danger. More so than most,” Za Ruik says. “A storm is building up in the future, and your paths, almost all of them, plunge straight into it. Not all come out on the other side. Beware the Adept in the train station, she’ll fight, because she can’t retreat. Beware the boy crying in his room, something terrible follows him. And beware those who seek to manipulate you. I don’t think they’re hostile, but they lie. The one who summoned you here, and the one who gives you these little chores - I can’t see who they are, but they’re dangerous, and they want you to fight their battles.”

The first part sounded gibberish, but I realize he’s not raving at all - he saw something about Quicksilver, the one who gives you these little chores. But then, who is the one who summoned you here? And why?

Za Ruik casts shadows, too, but his are bright and glowing. I see him crying on a tomb, I see him grinning madly, floating in midair, glyphs of searing power all around him…

“Even if you make it through the storm, a thread of darkness runs through your future. Something my sight recoils from. If only I could…”

He reaches a hand toward me, radiant with silvery power, and suddenly the world disintegrates into light, and everywhere I look there are shadows of me, and they all watch me, reach their hands…

I scream, and take a step back, but I find myself pressed against the wall - my heart hammers into my chest, why is everything silver, where…

Za Ruik stops, his eyes wide, and quickly lowers his hand. He closes his eyes, and slowly, with obvious effort, he makes the silver glow subside. Inch by inch, dark skin replaces smooth silver glass. One by one, my shadows dissolve, and so do his silvery doubles.

He falls to his knees, looking winded.

“Sorry,” he says. “I… I can use my power. As long as I Channel just a trickle of it. But it’s hard to remember that, sometimes. It’s like having to crawl all your life, when you know you could stand up and run. If only you accepted never to stop again. I’m sorry this was discomforting, but please know it wasn’t dangerous - not for you. I hope this… will help you in some way. I’m tired of being useless.”

I do what any responsible, stable adult would – I turn back and run. I don’t stop until I get to the R&R room, full of voices, stale coffee, and eyes that don’t glow