Creak!

Claude opened the door, allowing the afternoon sunlight to spill into his home. The warm glow swept across the sparsely furnished room, dispelling its usual chill and giving life to its muted interior. And, standing at the threshold was a familiar figure.

"Ah, good afternoon, Claude." Zal offered a genial smile, nodding slightly. "May I come in? There's something I need to discuss with you."

Claude paused, narrowing his eyes at the unexpected request, before stepping aside and gesturing for the old man to enter.

The two moved to the study, where Claude seated himself behind a plain wooden desk, its surface scattered with parchments and vials. Across from him, Zal lowered himself into a cushioned armchair, its fabric worn but comfortable.

"I haven't seen you since you brought me here..." Claude broke the silence. "Why have you come now?"

"It's about that mission," Zal admitted with a sigh. "You might have guessed, but the reason you were sent on it was to determine whether you had... ties to a cult."

Claude's eyes narrowed, his fingers drumming softly against the desk. "And why, pray tell, would a mage ever become a cultist?" His voice carried a note of dry amusement, though his thoughts churned beneath the surface.

For Claude, the idea seemed absurd. Mages were beings of reason and logic. Their power was knowledge, knowledge of the rules that operated the world around them.

Their very nature stood in opposition to the chaotic and unpredictable essence of the subspace. To them, the subspace was a realm of chaos, its influence alien and revolting to any mage who valued their sanity.

"The very notion is absurd," Claude continued, a soft chuckle escaping him. "It would be like asking a mathematician to seek solace in literature."

"I would have been inclined to agree with you." Zal's tone shifted, more serious now. "If it hadn't been for that incident." He leaned back slightly, his gaze distant.

Claude raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite himself. He hadn't expected an answer. Yet Zal seemed unwilling to elaborate further, leaving the room momentarily steeped in an uneasy quiet.

"Well," Zal broke the silence with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Now that you've completed the mission, you're officially a member of Elysium."

Claude leaned back in his chair, arms folded. "Is there anything special about that?"

"At the very least, you won't be under constant observation anymore," Zal replied with a wry grin.

An awkward silence lingered between them, both men seemingly avoiding the mention of a particular name.

Finally, Zal's gaze shifted to the collection of vials and beakers on Claude's desk. "It seems you've taken a liking to herbology," he remarked, his tone almost casual. "Have you considered joining the School of Biomancy?"

Claude shook his head firmly. "No. As fascinating as it is, I believe it's wiser to focus on Energetics for now."

"Ah, as expected of that blasted fool's disciple," Zal muttered, though his words carried no real malice.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Claude's eyes narrowed slightly as he processed the remark. So my hunch was correct... he thought. Zal did know Raymond.

Still, the exact nature of their connection remained unclear. Mages, with their lifespans, were enigmas of time. An apprentice might reach a century, while an official mage could easily surpass two. Yet the higher echelons—the Grandmasters and Lords—were mysteries even to their peers. How long could they truly live? And how had Zal and Raymond's paths crossed?

Claude glanced at the old man but chose not to press. 'Never mind... I doubt I'd get an answer even if I asked.'

"Do you have any thoughts on how to test these potions?" Zal's voice broke through Claude's thoughts, pulling him back to the present.

Claude shook his head slightly, a faint frown crossing his face. A lack of test subjects had always been one of the obstacles preventing him from recreating the potions even in Littourbourg. Despite gathering the necessary ingredients, he'd been unable to proceed.

After all, he couldn't very well test them on himself. And animals—while useful in some experiments—wouldn't serve as an accurate enough model for the effects he anticipated.

"Well, you're in luck!" Zal's smirk widened as he crossed his arms. "Now that you've passed the test, you can access more of Elysium's resources."

Claude tilted his head, his curiosity piqued. "That means," Zal continued, "you can head to the Resource Department and request what you need. Of course, they'll decide whether your requests are reasonable, so don't ask for anything outrageous."

Claude's eyes narrowed slightly as he processed this new piece of information. "And... does that include people?"

"Of course!" Zal answered without hesitation. "Criminals and cultists captured by non-mage forces—mostly the major nations on Arta—are often handed over to Elysium. They come alongside other resources, like rare ingredients and materials."

"Like a protection fee?" Claude asked, his voice even, though an odd feeling settled in his chest. To him, it seemed less like a partnership and more akin to extortion.

Why did Elysium seem similar to those underground gangs like the Grey Falcons?

"You could say that," Zal replied with a shrug, his tone casual, as though the comparison didn't trouble him in the slightest.

Claude fell silent, his thoughts spinning. After a moment, he shook his head and changed the subject. "Surely I'll need to offer something in exchange for these resources?"

"Technically... no," Zal said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "As a member of Elysium, you'll be assigned missions regularly by the Administrative Department. Complete those, and you'll earn the right to make requests."

Zal leaned back slightly, his expression softening as he explained further. "What you can ask for depends on a few factors: your rank as a mage, your discipline in completing assignments, and, of course, the availability of what you're asking for."

Claude gave a slow nod, though Zal wasn't finished.

"Don't worry," the older man added, waving a hand dismissively. "None of your future missions will be as dangerous as the last. Most of the time, you'll assist higher-level mages with their research, search for rare resources, or participate in diplomatic efforts to expand Elysium's influence among the nations."

"Diplomatic efforts?" Claude raised an eyebrow. "I assume that's just a polite way of saying intimidation."

Zal chuckled, a low, amused sound. "You catch on quickly. But isn't intimidation just another tool of influence? Consider it part of the job."

"There always has to be a price."Claude sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Doesn't there...?"

Zal rose from his seat, stretching his back with a faint groan. "That's the way of the world, Claude. You'll get used to it—or you won't. Either way, you've proven yourself capable, and that's what matters."

He adjusted his coat and turned toward the door. "Well, I've taken enough of your time. I'll leave you to your potions and your musings. Until next time, Claude."

With that, Zal exited, his footsteps echoing down the hallway until they faded into silence.

Claude remained seated, his gaze fixed on the scattered vials and notes on his desk. The conversation replayed in his mind, each word tinged with implications he couldn't ignore.

Criminals and cultists… resources to be used. Missions as currency. Protection fees... or was it a tribute?

He drummed his fingers against the desk, a habit of his when lost in thought. For all its structure and grandeur, was Elysium truly any less ruthless than those cultists it so despised?

But that was a concern for another day.

Claude sighed, brushing those thoughts aside for now. There were potions to test, mysteries to solve, and an ever-deepening web of intrigue to navigate.