Ceanna stared at me as if I had announced myself a domestic terrorist. Her expression remained doubtful, as if trying to figure out which iteration of madness had made me say something so stupid.

“This,” she eventually said, “would be highly unlikely. However, as a member of the Association, I am obliged to offer you a chance to prove yourself. Show me your weaving of mana. If it is deemed controlled, you are free to go. I will remind you that a rogue wave of uncontrolled magic does not qualify as controlled.”

“Uhm, that’s a bit of a problem,” I said. “You see, I can’t actually weave mana. I only know how to cast destructive spells.”

Ceanna breathed in. “I fear you will have to sign the contract, Cillian.”

“No, no,” I said. “I can prove my control over mana. I just, um, well, can you promise me you won’t attack me if I cast an example?”

“Listen, young man,” Ceanna said. “It is about time you stop playing with me. I am known as a polite teacher by most of my students. This does not mean I will sit idle while blatant lies are poured over me. If you do not get serious about this, forceful methods will be incorporated.”

I took a deep breath. It seemed I had no choice. I pointed my mental focus at Ceanna and calmly said, “Arcane Snare.”

Mana surged from my heart into my chords. The mana flowed through the “pores” of my mana chords, turning into magic as it reached the outside world. Technically, I wove mana into magic, exactly as Remy had taught. Difference was, the casting was performed automatically by a Goddess. The process must have appeared skillful to an outsider at the very least.

The spell tangled around Ceanna without the slightest issue, purple circles of arcane ensnaring her tight. Shock filled her features, and the piece of parchment fell out of her hands.

The mages healing my body shared the reaction. Staves of healing quickly turned into weapons pointed at my unmoving body as the whole room tried to figure out what exactly had just happened.

“I did warn you,” I said. “James Adamson didn’t go easy on me. Actually, he taught me quite a few tricks.”

Ceanna struggled for breath. “Take this off me…”

I paused, an awkward smile on my face. “Uhm, I apologize, but my master didn’t teach me how to retract this spell.”

“Damned trickster!” Ceanna called. “You will regret this. The Association will not forgive such lies.”

“I have not lied,” I said. “It was the Wyvern Slayer who mistook me for a beginner.”

Ceanna scowled at me from her snare, face red with a mix of embarrassment and hatred. “Who are you?”

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“Cillian Bermeyer,” I said. “Regretfully, a mage.”

Confused looks filled the room. I scratched my temple and turned towards Ausrine with an awkward smile. “Uhm, I was serious when I said I can’t retract that spell. Could you please untie her?”

Ausrine and her mages got to work untying my Arcane magic, a task which took them fifteen seconds of teamwork. Far longer than what Rigrith had used to blast open the snares with pure strength. My spell must have leveled up.

“Well,” Ceanna said, finally untied and free. The look on her face said she was more than a little flustered. “It appears we have had a misunderstanding. Cillian, you have proven yourself to be a qualified mage. Darko, the Wyvern Slayer, will be punished for providing misinformation. By the Association’s law, Cillian is free of responsibility. The Corruption will not be a problem for this man. Though I presume the King has his own qualms and crimes that need answering. Goodbye.”

Darko provided the information? I thought. Seriously?

With one last scowl, Ceanna and her servant stepped out of the doors, leaving the bedchambers in baffled silence.

“Sorry about that…” I eventually said. “Could I go now, please?”

The irritated face of the Sacred Priest turned to me. “The King will want to see you.”

“Is there a law that forces me to meet him, or does he just want to meet me?”

Ausrine’s brows visibly twitched. “You sure are ostentatious for someone whose life has been saved from certain death.”

“Sorry,” I said, flushing a slight bit. “I don’t intend to be rude. I just… Why do you all have to be so cruel?”

“Cillian,” Ausrine said. “You are a captive. Do not forget this. There are crimes to which your involvement is undeniable. My earlier statements still hold true. Your stay with your criminal gang is over, and your friends are not coming to save you. Your crimes are yours to answer.”

“But… What am I being charged with?”

“This is a matter to be discussed with investigators,” Ausrine said. “My team has healed you, as has been our task. It is your responsibility to pay for our service. I can do no more than to inform the King of your situation.”

I nodded and asked her to do just that. If clearing my name was all I had to do to meet my friends, it seemed I had no choice but to hold a few conversations.

Ausrine exited the room, leaving the healers to tend to my remaining wounds, and the wait began. My body did not calm once. The anticipation grew, as if my worries would kill me from the inside.

It’s simply not true, I thought. They wouldn’t abandon me. It’s not possible…

Yet, behind my arguments, a grueling fact loomed tall overhead. Darko had sent me here. Whatever his purpose was, he had revealed the plan, leaving me off for royal mages.

Did he truly intend to never see me again? The possibility of this unnerved me more than I would have liked to admit. It wasn’t like Darko was my close brother. We barely met days ago. Yet, for some reason, I thought we were closer...

What about the girls? Had they abandoned me, too?

Were they even alive?

I tried to pester my healers for more information, but nobody could answer a damn thing. After my third attempt at gaining information, responses stopped coming altogether. I had no choice but to sit still in my own nervousness, hoping to dear god that the cultists hadn’t mangled the others to death.

The King would provide answers. I would make certain he did.