"You're sure this will work?" Fenrin whispered to Matius as the two watched the ancient mage stare into the mirror.

"I'm blind not deaf, and not to mention capable of even more than my apprentice could imagine. Now cease whispering and let me concentrate," the Arch Mage snapped and Matius gave Fenrin a wry smile, holding a finger to his lips.

The mirror glowed white hot and the Arch Mage grunted with effort. After a moment, the red haired woman on the other side of the room stepped over exasperated, the tattoos on her face seeming to curl with annoyance. "By the spirits, you don't need to break through, just move over you old fool and let me look."

Matius flinched a bit at the disrespectful way Fernilda spoke to the Arch Mage but held his tongue. He wasn't about to instigate another argument between the Arch Mage and the High Druid of Dyve.

Fernilda began a low chanting, waving her hand in front of the still searingly bright mirror. Perhaps it was a trick of the light but for a moment Matius thought he saw a face, eyes widened in surprise, before the light went out suddenly and Fernilda pursed her lips.

"It’s one of ours. Spirits know how she managed to wrangle a fae of such power."

"I don't know about power, Fernilda. It is considerably easier to block and detect divination than it is to use it," the Arch Mage sniffed.

The High Druid ignored him, instead turning to Fenrin. "You said your sister could use magic?"

Fenrin nodded. "A bit. Technically so can I, but I've never been any good at it."

The Arch Mage held a hand up towards Fenrin and Matius watched as his friend's face twisted in discomfort. The Third Apprentice could feel the magic in Fenrin stir as his master tugged at it—just the tiniest spark of magic.

"Whatever the hell you're doing, stop!" Fenrin's voice was so sharp and threatening that the Arch Mage did indeed stop, startled.

Matius tried to ignore two older mages’ curious stares as Fenrin's knees buckled. Matius leaned down and put an arm around his friend. "You alright, Fen?"

Fenrin gasped, raising a trembling hand to his headband. "That felt a lot like...I'll be fine, just give me a minute."

Matius gave the Arch Mage a disapproving look, the man should know better than to go poking around Fenrin's soul after everything he'd been through.

The Arch Mage ignored his look, stroking his beard. "That was Azir magic. I wonder..."

Fenilda started. "Azir? In a Valhym man?"

Grimacing, the Arch Mage nodded and explained, "One of the many fallouts of opening Aziron's borders after the great war. Although it's not commonly done, our magic can be removed and even transferred. The practice, of course, is highly forbidden since transplanted magic has no way of returning back into the bloodline. However, some Azir are desperate enough to sell their own souls to others."

"And you say our way is barbaric." Fernilda gave the Arch Mage a pointed look. "I assume you've done this transference before yourself."

"Of course. It's one of my primary duties as well as that of my Second Apprentice. As I've explained before, should one of our own die without a child to inherit our magic, it is lost forever. Therefore it's much preferable to remove the magic and pass it onto another Azir by proxy. Azir to Azir transference preserves the pool. This," he gestures to Fenrin, "is just a perversion of that sacred duty."

Fenrin stood back up and scowled but the Arch Mage just looked through him as if examining the magic he'd just touched. "Although, perhaps we can use this to our benefit. Do you remember how you got this magic?"

Cocking his head, Fenrin thought hard. It was a long time ago, back when he and Lyra were still working together. After Lyra had returned to the family from her brief banishment, Bryn had given them a strange pendant on their following birthday, ordering them to open it together.

It had been a strange sensation, feeling the magic settle into him—although Fenrin hadn't given it much more thought since he discovered he wasn't any good at it.

"Some sort of necklace I think."

"Did your sister have a separate one?"

Fenrin frowned, he had a gut feeling he wouldn't like where this was going.

"No," he answered warily.

The Arch Mage shuffled over to one of his bookshelves and muttered a few words. Wards shimmering briefly into view before he reached into the wooden side of the case, blue fingers dipping into the wood like water, and pulled out a pendant.

"It was something like this, I presume?"

Fenrin squinted at the necklace. He hadn't paid much attention to the necklace at the time, he'd been a bit preoccupied with his family. Ly and his birthdays had always been tense.

"Maybe? I think it was about that size at least. I can't say for sure, it was a long time ago."

"If I am right," the Arch Mage began, all the while fiddling with the pendant expertly, small glowing runes appearing along its surface, "that pendant contained the magic of some desperate Azir. If you and your sister split the soul, there's a chance we can use your portion against her."

Fernilda examined the necklace as it snapped open. "Fascinating, so we remove Fenrin's magic and use it as a focus."

"Precisely."

"Woah, woah, woah," Fenrin held his hands up, "I don't mind you using my magic, but I'm not sure I like the idea of it being removed."

The Arch Mage waved a hand. "It's a simple enough procedure. Painless, although I have heard it is a strange sensation."

Fenrin went pale, taking a few steps back. "I don't think this is a good idea."

"Spirits, man, don't be such a child," Fernilda snapped and Arch Mage nodded approvingly at his new ally.

Matius looked over at Fenrin's face. He was terrified and there was only one thing that scared Fenrin.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

The Third Apprentice stepped between his master and his friend. "With all due respect, this isn't a normal death parting ritual. Fenrin isn't Azir and," he gave the Arch Mage a meaningful look, "his soul isn't exactly untouched."

Fernilda raised a quizzical eyebrow but the Arch Mage coughed.

"Yes, well, I suppose some precautions are in order." Matius gave him another pointed look but this time the old man gathered himself and stared down his apprentice. "However, if we are to proceed with the plan, we need every advantage. Surely that is worth some...aggravated discomfort?"

"But sir, the effects—" Matius began but Fenrin put a hand on his shoulder.

It was trembling but grew more steady as he spoke, "Give me some time to think about it," he turned, "but Matius, do me a favor and put that brain of yours to work. See if you can give me some idea of what to expect."

With only a quick glance at the offended Arch Mage and the confused High Druid, Fenrin ducked out of the room.

Matius rubbed his neck. "That didn’t go well. Really, sir, you should know better."

The Arch Mage huffed, "I'm sure he is overreacting, but if evidence is what he desires, I imagine any we have will be in Fa'lor's volumes."

"Where do I recognize that name from?" Fernilda tilted her head.

Matius gave her a smile. "That would be the previous Arch Mage, he was known for his ability to manipulate magic. The pendant itself is one of his enchantments."

The Dyve woman shook her head. "Mortals manipulating magic. Terrible notion."

Matius had been suppressing his curiosity about Dyve magic for a while. The High Druid and Arch Mage had come to an unprecedented agreement to share their secrets, but Matius had not been present, only the Arch Mage and First Apprentice. Seeinghis master preoccupied in locating his own mentor's tomes, Matius seized his chance.

"So it's true that Dyve magic does not follow the circle?"

Fernilda looked Matius over but at his earnest expression, nodded. "Not the way Azir magic does. Ours is more...fluid. It can't be put under one label and quantified like yours."

"And it truly doesn't pass on through bloodline?"

The druid hesitated before answering, "Not the way you're imagining. My magic and others like it are a gift, a boon or reward given by the fae."

The Arch Mage interjected coolly, "As such, it cannot be taken or split from the mage since it is not actually their magic."

Fernilda pinched her nose bridge, clearly nearing the last of her patience with the old man. Matius asked quickly, "So when a druid dies, the power is returned to the fae, correct?"

"Indeed." Fernilda walked over and brushed some scrolls unceremoniously to the floor to clear a seat for herself. Matius resisted the urge to check on the crumpled papers as she turned her attention fully to him and continued, "However, sometimes a fae's gift doesn't go to the favored one themselves, but to their child. And sometimes..." she hesitated again, eyeing him carefully.

It was the same look the Azir gave him whenever they discussed their own magic, a look he was well used to as a yuji. He met her gaze, waiting for her judgement of whether he was worthy of her knowledge.

As the Arch Mage had done before her, the High Druid decided he was and finished, "sometimes the gift is given to the fae instead. Changelings are not as common as they once were, but still happen from time to time. A child is born with a fae inside, a fae who wishes to walk on En as a mortal does. Eventually they grow bored and the child's soul is safely returned and in turn their child is born fae-touched with very powerful magic."

"What happens to the human child's soul while the changeling exists?" Matius asked, fascinated but slightly horrified. What she described sounded an awful lot like possession.

Fernilda's eyes glazed a bit, "They are there but not there. When the change happens, they are like children again at first but develop quickly. Most go on to live fairly normal lives."

"Most?"

She gave him a tired smile. "Some suffer from what we call fae-sickness, an incurable disconnect from the people around them. As a community we watch out for them but they seem to always yearn for a world beyond our own."

"A sad fate for an innocent child," Matius said, his voice not judgemental, merely mournful.

"You have a soft heart, Third Apprentice, but don't worry, in my experience sometimes being acutely unaware of the world around you is a kinder fate and it's our belief that those with fae-sickness are loved by the fae more than any others."

"A oddly fickle way of magic but one without the drawbacks of potential loss." The Arch Mage rejoined them, a thick purple tome floating in front of him. "The finite amount of Azir magic was the greatest concern of my predecessor and in his pursuit of a solution he dabbled perhaps a bit too far into our enemies’ methods."

"Ah, your so-called Accursed Ones, I presume." Fernilda seemed amused by the name.

"Nothing so-called about them, High Druid," Matius said seriously, "our greatest stroke of luck in this war is that Lyra inherited a dislike for Brimstones and is smart enough to know allying with them would be a bad idea."

Fernilda seemed to take Matius’s warning more seriously than she had the first time the Arch Mage had ranted about the dangers of the Accursed Ones.

The book floated to Matius who began flipping through it reverently as the Arch Mage waved a hand and summoned himself a chair. "Take a look, my boy, my recollection of its words are not as perfect as I'd like. Chapter thirty-two is probably our best bet though."

Obediently, Matius turned to the requested section and scanned through the Azir writing. He'd referenced this tome a few times, but he did more field work than research. The three sat in comfortable silence as Matius read, his brows growing more and more furrowed until with a sigh, he gave the book a push and it floated gently to a table.

"This exact situation has never happened—as we expected—but Master Fa'lor had many theories, substantiated theories, about the way Azir and Brimstone magic interact. They come from the same original source so it's possible Niv's influence clung closely to Fenrin's Azir magic, trying to possess it the way it would an actual Azir. Of course, being yuji that would not be a full metamorphosis by any means."

"So?" Fernilda prompted.

The Arch Mage stroked his beard. "So we proceed with precaution."

Matius sighed. "It's going to be ugly. I'd best fetch Jayln, she'll want to be part of this."

Once informed, Jayln stood firmly against the curiosity of both the High Druid and the First and Second Apprentices. Matius watched his wife work with satisfaction as she shooed them away and ensured Fenrin would not be made a freak show of. She would have shooed away the Arch Mage as well if Matius had been capable of the magic required.

However, when he Arch Mage recommended Fenrin's old cell as the best place for the procedure, Jayln did give the man such a lecture that Fenrin didn't even feel the need to defend himself, too amused by watching the old man sputter under Jayln's ire.

Eventually it was agreed to use the war room, the table temporarily transmuted into the floor. Chains were added at Fenrin's request. He also insisted that Matius, Jayln, and the Arch Mage stay out of his reach.

Testing the bonds with determination, Fenrin nodded to the Arch Mage. "Let's get this over with."

Jayln's fingers slipped between Matius's and he gave them a squeeze.

The Arch Mage held up a hand and once again Matius felt the small magic inside Fenrin squirm like a tadpole. Fenrin gasped like he'd been punched and the Arch Mage began to mutter an incantation, the pendant's Azir writing beginning to glow once more.

Fenrin convulsed, straining against the chains, his eyes flashed wildly and he gave a cry that was half-scream, half-roar. Matius felt the magic shift, moving toward the Arch Mage.

Tears streaming from his eyes, Fenrin collapsed. The pendant opened with a click. Fenrin's head snapped back, the mark on his forehead glowing bright red through the cloth headband for a moment like an ember escaping a fire before there was a flash and the Arch Mage caught the locket, closed once more.

Jayln and Matius rushed up to Fenrin. Jayln checked his pulse and Matius whispered, "It's over, you did it."

"That...wasn't...so bad," Fenrin panted as Matius waved a hand and the chains released his friend.

"How do you feel?" Jayln asked and Fenrin rolled his neck.

"The same actually. Strange, I thought maybe..."

The Arch Mage shook his head. "Niv's influence was purged from you years ago, this just dragged the memories through your mind like mud across a kitchen floor."

"That's...pretty much what happened. It was like the world's fastest nightmare." He stood up and stepped forward peering at the pendant. "You really think this will help?"

The old man gave a mischievous grin. "Oh, I do believe so."