Megan sat cross-legged in the center of the grassy quad and closed her eyes, gathering both her concentration and her mana. She’d cast this spell many times for class and even final examinations, but it still took a great deal of focus to do properly. Divination was nowhere near her best subject, so she had to make sure she was paying very close attention. The last thing she wanted was for the spell to go awry, and her mana to reach the wrong person.

After a brief pause, she felt her consciousness beginning to move at rapid speeds. She flicked past hundreds, even thousands of individuals as she raced out across the city of Milagre. She heaved a quiet sigh of relief as she realized that direction she was heading was well past the massive body of troops gathered outside the city. That meant that the target of her scrying spell was not with the traitors. She continued to rush on across the plains in the blink of an eye, heading towards the city of Rabanul.

Finally, she came to an abrupt halt, and felt projected intent form, giving her vision of the immediate surroundings of her target. She saw several figures sitting in a dejected sort of slump, as if they were depressed. Among these people was her target. Seer David looked less confident than when she’d last seen him, his robes smeared with dust, blood, and several other unpleasant things. Destitute as he was, his head snapped up at once as he sensed the appearance of her spell.

“Spying on us again, Rupert?” He said, a tone of cold hatred in his voice. “Tell the traitor that we’re right where he left us.”

Megan felt a rush of sympathy go through her at his words. If he was speaking of General Hazaam in such a cold manner, there was no chance that they were still on good terms. This was obvious the moment she’d noticed he was in a jail cell, of course, but it was the final bit of evidence she needed. She wished that she could speak to him, though she wasn’t sure any words of comfort would work on him now. She just watched him for a few seconds, in silence, sorry for the state he found himself in. Had all the Black Hands who had refused to follow him been imprisoned?

“Not feeling up to taunting me this time, are you?” David asked, sneering in Megan’s direction. “So tired from the battle already that you can’t muster a few words?”

That confused Megan. She was using a basic scry spell, which didn’t give her the chance to speak. She could only watch and hear. But there were more complicated versions of the spell that allowed her voice to pass through the distance. Was one of the mages under Hazaam using such magic to keep a close eye on the prisoners? It made sense. The last thing he’d want is the still-loyal members of Rabanul to race out after him and aid the Queen. Tyrman and Rabanul had a mutual defense treaty in place, so their intervention was almost guaranteed.

“Wait.” This was a new voice, some distance from David. It was someone in the shadowy corner, hidden from her view because he wasn’t close enough. “Who are you talking to, David?”

“That cretin Rupert,” David replied, turning to look at the person. “He’s probably laughing himself hoarse at his sudden promotion.”

“He’s not speaking?” The voice asked. When David shook his head, the stranger continued. “Ruper checked on us only two hours ago. He’s not due to look in for another hour. It could be someone else.”

That thought hadn’t seemed to occur to Seer David. He frowned thoughtfully as he looked at Megen. To his Truesight, she knew, she would look like a pale blue ball of floating mana, suspended a few feet off the ground, at about head height. There was a light of suspicion in his eyes, but also hopeful. He sat up straight now, and Megan noticed the others stirring. There was a sense of fight about them now. They weren’t as dejected as she’d thought.

“I suppose there’s only one way to know,” David said. “If you’re from Milagre, and you aren’t with Attos or Hazaam, end your spell now. I’ll follow you, and speak with you.”

Megan wasn’t sure what he had in mind, but she knew that she needed his trust. There was a chance here, just a chance, that they might be able to gain some new allies. She immediately cut the spell short, and her mind snapped back across the distance, returning to where she was sitting on the grassy quad. The Spellblades of Samuel’s squadron were ranged around her, maintaining anti-Divination spells, to protect her from retaliation.

“Drop the protection,” she said at once. “I made contact. He’s contacting me back.”

They seemed hesitant and looked at Samuel for an order. After only a moment’s hesitation, he gave a brief signal of assent. They dropped their spells at once, and moved out of the way. Almost the instant after their protection ended, a ball of light sprang into being. It looked identical to the spell she’d used, but as it came to a rest, it stretched and changed shape, revealing the dirty and disheveled form of Seer David.

“Hmm,” he said, his voice sounding vaguely ethereal. “You look familiar. You were the girl from the College who came in the last month.”

“Yes,” Megan said at once. “Attos has laid siege to our city, and Hazaam is with him.”

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“I know,” David said, his face bitter. “That swine staged a coup against his own troops. He took control of the city too fast for us to do anything. Those that had families were blackmailed. The rest were heavily wounded or killed.”

“But how did Hazaam even manage to take the city?” Samuel asked, stepping up to stand beside Megan so he could be seen. “He only has about two hundred here.”

“He’s been planning it for months,” David said. He didn’t seem at all surprised to see Samuel appear. “He’s been bringing in Attosian soldiers slowly, in twos and threes. He managed to sneak in about four hundred. With the element of surprise, it was quick and easy for him.”

“Where are you now?” Samuel asked briskly. “Are you still within Rabanul?”

“Yes,” David said, and his voice was bitter again. “There are about twenty guards here, with four watching our cell. They check in regularly with magic, to make sure we are alone and not talking to anyone.”

“I understand.” Samuel put out his left hand, and a worn-looking notebook appeared there. It fell open to a specific page, which he studied for a moment. “Alright. Break your spell now. I cannot spare many troops to rescue you, but I will do what I can.”

“Thank you, Prime Mage,” David said, offering a slight bow. He turned to Megan. “Thank you for reaching out to me. Without you, we would have been doomed.”

Megan nodded in reply, her throat too tight for words. With a resolved set to his shoulders, David bowed slightly in her direction as well, then vanished from sight. At once, the Spellblades recast their protective anti-Divination spells, forming a circle around her and Samuel. Samuel himself turned the notebook around, and held it out for Megan to read. As she clambered to her feet and looked at it, she recognized the arcane markings of a transcribed spell.

“What is this?” She asked, taking careful note of the inscriptions. “I can’t reconize the school.”

“It’s Enari magic,” Samuel said. When she opened her mouth to ask a question, he held up his right hand. “The Enari are the people of the Ethereal Plane. Well, the most sentient people in the plane. This is the magic that I used on you.”

Megan took half a step back in shock, but couldn’t tear her eyes away from the page. “Wait. Why are you teaching me this spell? I’m an outsider.”

“You are about as Ahyan as it is possible to be,” Samuel said. “Besides, you were right about one thing. This is the event you were needed for, and it’s what you’ve been training to do. If I can’t trust you with a secret like this now, then all our efforts so far would have been in vain.”

Megan had memorized the intricate lines by now. It really wasn’t a complicated spell. It relied on a mindset that she’d only used once, in the ethereal sea. While she didn’t know much about it yet, she knew that controlling chaos was the theme. This spell essentially treated the difference between different people’s energies as nonexistent, forcing it all to be the same energy. She blinked a few times, then nodded and looked away.

“Alright,” she said tensely. “I got it now. So, what are you going to do about the Black Hands trapped in Rabanul?”

“Well, unlike the victims of their coup, they’ll be expecting trouble,” Samuel said. “Twenty people may not be a lot, but even that number could hold the city against less than a hundred. We cannot spare a hundred. So we will send only four, and hope it is enough.”

“Oh,” Megan said, that tight feeling in her chest returning. “I see.”

“You will not be alone, not really,” Samuel reassured her. “Take this.”

He was holding out some kind of gem. She took it, immediately feeling a large amount of mana that was trapped within. It was a spell stone, she realized. And whatever spell inside contained more mana than she could produce in a day. It was like comparing a cup of water to a knee-deep puddle, she thought. She clutched it tightly in her hand, fully aware that she’d just been handed a very high-level spell.

“That will conjure twenty of my simulacrums,” Samuel said. “They’ll only be a little more powerful than you, but they’re durable, and will last up to four hours.”

Megan’s jaw dropped, and she looked back down at the spell stone, glowing faintly in her grip. Creating a simulacrum, or an exact copy of a complete creature, was an incredible feat, impossible for all but the most highly skilled of mages. The risk of failure was so high for just one, and Samuel had created twenty. She’d always known that he was strong, but this news made him seem almost god-like in her eyes. She carefully tucked it into the satchel at her waist with slightly trembling fingers.

“Very well,” Samuel said, heaving a deep sigh. “I wish you the best of luck, Megan. Attos has many soldiers out there, and we’re cut off from calling for help from our allies across the country. You know how important it is for you to succeed.”

She nodded, swallowing nervously. “Where are Jordan, Rachel, and Michael?”

“Rachel and Jordan are in the Proficient’s Dorm,” he said, after only half a second of searching. “Michael is in the armory across campus. He’s picking up some magical parcel.”

Megan nodded and immediately turned to leave. Twenty feet away, she paused and looked back. “Good luck, Samuel.”

“And to you as well,” The Archmage said. His face was inscrutable now, and he had his crystalline blue blade drawn. Each rune inscribed along the blade was glowing like a miniature sun. At that moment, she could clearly see the centuries of experience and strength burned into his glowing violet eyes. It didn’t bode well for whoever got in his way, she thought. Then, with a flash, he and his squadron were gone.

Twenty-five minutes later, she, Michael, Jordan, and Rachel were airborne, riding on the backs of the fastest Stravian steeds they could find. High over the city of Milagre, they could still make out the massive army gathered on the grassy slopes of the Gorteau Plains. Just inside the city wall, the heads of thousands more soldiers, the determined defenders of Milagre milled about. The scene was frozen in a state preceding chaos when the very strength of their pride was to be tested.