The feeling of cold wind pushing through the huge hole in my study does little to temper the anger in my chest. I sit alone in the ruins, a pile of burnt and useless notes being my only company as my associates are doing whatever they can with their limited understanding to try and appease me; but there is nothing they could ever dream to do for me. Not now, not when I can feel my heart burn, and the void in my soul becoming bigger and deeper, more present in every little thought.

Why have I been forsaken this way? Could this be a test from God and his Saints? A trial by fire for my patience and faith?

I have not been able to sleep a single moment since the Rogue Angel decided to abandon me, taking with them what was mine by right of birth: the first spark of True Magic, the key to the return of God’s Will to our rotting land, and the fruit of years of experimentation and hard work. Why has Baraqiel forsaken me this way? Why do their vessels always end up faulty and useless?

My hand sinks into the pile of burnt pieces of paper, and I can still feel the ideas they once conveyed. All the notes, every little advance that took me closer and closer to last night, the elongated recounting of my descent into inhumanity and all for the sake of this rotten, ingrate world.

For I am clear my actions are immoral, using these vessels the way I do is wasteful and maybe a little cruel– but what else am I to do, if not using the tools I’ve crafted for a purpose bigger than any of us!?

I squeeze the burnt pieces of paper between my fingers, feeling the crunch and screak, become nothing but black powder and disappointment. The ring on my bandaged left hand is still shining despite it all, for no matter our actions, True Silver cannot be stained by anything.

That’s the Motto of the Demiurges: no matter how vile, how bloody our labor becomes, our soul remains spotless and shining bright with the light of curiosity and wisdom. We are the torchbearers of a new era, a new Age of Magic after centuries of Silence!

I manage to get back up from the floor, dusting myself from the black powder on my clothes and looking through the hole left by Baraqiel’s escape. So close, I was so close last night…

We just need a spark. MY spark. Once we acquire it, once we let it nestle deep into our souls, it will reproduce and spread at a pace faster than any of our enemies can stop!!

Because of course, no matter how noble our cause is, there always will be foolish, ignorant and fearful idiots trying to stop progress. The more conservative Chambers of our Church, the Hounds of the Government, the Heretical Faiths of western Jericho, and the list just grows from there. Yes, my enemies lurk in every little corner, perhaps even closer than I think…

This could be sabotage, maybe there’s a traitor in Gwynedd plotting every step of my demise! Maybe …

I begin to walk around the ruins, restless and impatient, tapping under my chin with a single finger. Could it be that vessel’s fault? A plan from beyond my grasp, an infiltrate!!

No. I got that vessel from a slaver in the Ferry Port, there’s no way they somehow hid an infiltrate among the vessels I bought, right? I have been so careful in keeping my inner circle clear of outside interference!!

As I walk over to the hole in my walls, my head shakes slowly. No. For this to be planned would require someone knowing the functionality of my Coordinator Spires better than I do myself! They would need to perfectly predict what vessel would finally coordinate with its Divine Essence for long enough to produce a Spark and then, with some luck, a Rune. Not even I know how to predict a favorable scenario!!

Then who is to blame for this failure? My plans have worked perfectly despite our lack of favorable results… so it has to be outside influence…

Could it be the sisters? No. I picked most of them from a very early age, just to avoid spies; Alejandra would be my main suspect but seriously, she’s as sharp as a rock. Marina maybe? No, she has been my most loyal subject all this time…

Tasce and Corinthia are incompetent, good only for grunt work. Arianna is my scribe and seriously, she barely has the will to get up from bed, this is beyond her ability.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

… The answer hit me when my hands felt the cooling, deformed rock on the wall, along with a memory. What is that the vessel said? Never Again? Never again what…?

Never again shall humanity hold the Sparks of inspiration. Never again shall they ascend! Never again shall Jericho flourish like in its golden age.

This whole ordeal, this risk, it was the result of a confabulation from the Heavens themselves! The Angel had taken the vessel away to stop this!!!

And that can only mean that this truly is the moment of truth! The true opportunity, the closest we’ve ever been to magic.

“So… this truly is our last test, isn’t it…?”

The Demiurge’s lips curled into a smile, understanding now filling his eyes as his joy soon blossomed into a burst of loud, elated laughter. Alejandra and Arianna simply stared for a moment, two nuns hiding on the outside of the destroyed basement, terrified by the intensity of the broken man’s emotion.

Before arriving they had felt so confident in their plans, all the cards firmly grasped between their hands. Sure, they had their differences in how to treat the children, and there was still a tinge of tension between them, but things felt under their control!

And yet, here he was, smiling, laughing and mocking the very skies as twilight turned into closed night, already celebrating an impossible victory. The same thought passed through both nuns’ minds: this man was either completely insane, or he had discovered something neither of them could know.

“Come in, now.”

The laughter did die down, only for the man’s voice to order both women to walk through the door already. Arianna hesitated, but Alejandra powered through the fear to advance first.

The Demiurge was a tall, strong man, with black hair falling on both sides of his round face. Despite a few pounds, he felt incredibly vital and healthy in every motion he did, his hands strong enough to break a tree trunk in half if he put enough force on it. Truly, Enrico was the kind of man who enjoyed overpowering every obstacle to forever remain on top. Of all the people in the chapel, he was the only one to best Alejandra in both size and strength.

“Tell me the news, although I can already see you were unsuccessful.” Said Enrico with a tinge of disdain in his words.

“We looked through the old mine and there were no signs of the child.” Alejandra answered, looking down to disguise her discomfort with lying as mere shame. “Only small animals and other critters.”

“There were some tracks near the river!” Arianna added with a sheepish smile. Acting was second nature to her at this point. “We are not sure if they are Baraqiel’s but, they are our best bet so far.”

“The river… that means they are probably aiming for Gwynedd. Foolish vessel, walking right back to my hands without even realizing.” The Demiuirge’s mood seemed only to improve, but he still tried to look serious. “I shall send a message to Marina myself, you two return to your quarters… and remember to keep looking out for any signs of suspicion.”

The man’s gaze turned darker and more severe, as he stared down Arianna in particular. He knew she was the main problem when it came to motivation, so one couldn’t stress things enough!

“Our enemies lurk in every shadow. We must solve this situation as fast as possible, before they take any notice.”

The nun shivered and nodded slowly, doing her best not to laugh at her superior for she knew that “their enemies” had taken notice a few hours ago, and it was only a matter of time before they arrived; Enrico smiled, just looking at the nun pitifully shaking like a wet animal, nodding in approval of her fear.

“Now go away. Dismissed! I will not be present at Dinner tonight so I don’t want anyone to ask or bother.”

With a nod, both women simply turned back around and closed the gates behind them. The Demiurge could still hear them whisper away, their words obscured by the iron-plated door… he gave them no mind, for there were more important things to think about.

Like those enemies, and how close they could get before Baraqiel was back in the Spire.

The most obvious people to be afraid of were the Black Pages, always so eager to destroy any and all advances made in the field. To encounter their agents would mean immediate death not only for him, but to all of his vessels and coworkers, and the man simply couldn’t bear the guilt of his work being incomplete for the rest of time, lost due to the flames of ignorance.

“Maybe it is time to ask for help…”Enrico looked, once again, at his ring. A perfect True Silver band with the symbols of the Demiurge hidden on its inner face: the head of a lion devouring the sun, a sign that speaks of the passing of stages and the power of the sacred Creator, just waiting to be discovered and replicated. Every Demiurge in the sacred Guild had one, as a way to link all of them in a great, powerful chain.

There were others out there, people who may not share his own ideas but certainly understood the pressing situation, and the importance of their goals… maybe with the help of at least one of them…

“...No.”

It was far too risky, anyone who comes could easily steal his secrets, his advancements and his work, and then use it for their own experiments. They could even steal the Spark for themselves instead of returning it! The temptation of glory was too powerful for weak souls to endure, and Enrico was unwilling to share anything until his experiments were done properly.

Besides! Sending a letter to the guild would take days, if not entire weeks! He didn’t have the time to sit down and beg for a charitable soul to arrive, did he?

But then again, the threat of death was closer and closer, like a sword dangling right on top of his neck…

With a defeated sigh and a tired expression on his face, the man decided to simply leave that idea on stand by, and start the long way to Gwynedd. He would have both eyes very open, and with some luck maybe that tiresome vessel would appear and submit.

“If that thing doesn’t come back in two days, I am calling them.” The man decided, climbing through the hole in his study and dusting himself. “If anything, they can at least help me find a place to restart… again…”

This wasn’t the first time Enrico would have to burn down a church and run to pause his experiments, and he couldn’t be sure that it would be his last either. He wasn’t getting any younger at all, for time was absolutely against him.

But I don’t care how many I must sacrifice, I am reclaiming this Spark in the name of humanity.

I am reclaiming our long-lost birthright, no matter the cost.