“This is the Portal Converter! Pete made it himself! Pete is very proud of himself...” he muttered to himself, gently patting his own head.

“Just tell me what to do,” Orion sighed, defeated. He no longer had the strength to argue; he just wanted to get this over with and never interact with Pete again.

“Oh, yes, yes! You can put your hand on the Portal Converter, or any part of your body that produces electricity, and the machine will convert that power into energy to help create a portal. Now, do it!”

Orion’s fists lit up as lightning coated his arm. He placed his large hand on the round surface of the machine and channeled small amounts of electricity into it. The machine glowed blue as sparks danced and bounced around the metal.

“A little more, a little more!” Pete excitedly guided Orion through the process, his eyes shimmering with anticipation.

As Orion poured in more power, the machine glowed even brighter, and a thin blue line started forming in the air.

“It’s happening, everyone! It’s happening!” Pete jumped up and down, screaming like a child before opening a present.

With a bit more power, the machine started shaking and whistling; the thin blue line expanded and formed into a circle. Soon, a portal was created, resembling a mirror with a frame made of blue energy, reflecting our images in the center.

“It worked...” Pete gasped in disbelief. “It worked!” he joyfully screamed, pacing and jumping around the room.

“Let us go,” Orion said, striding toward the portal.

“You can’t go in! We haven’t set the destination yet!” Pete leaped at Orion, trying to halt him, but Orion effortlessly picked him up and set him aside like a plush toy.

“Then set one.”

“Where do you want to go?”

“Vixengaard. The Arcane University of Vixengaard.”

“But Pete has never been to Vixengaard; Pete has never even left the realm! To use a portal, one must envision the destination in the tiniest detail; only then will the portal take you where you wish,” Pete explained.

“It’s fine. The Western Realms used to be my home. Just tell me how to activate the portal,” Orion said.

“It’s easy. Just place your hand on the Portal Converter and vividly envision the place you want to go,” Pete instructed.

Following the instructions, Orion placed his hand on the machine and closed his eyes, picturing his former home in vivid detail.

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The mirror-like portal began to distort, transforming into a lifelike painting of the bustling streets of a large city. Passersby in the vision stopped and stared directly at us as if they could see us.

“Quickly now! This portal is a two-way street; others can pass through too!” Pete urged us to move, emphasizing the urgency.

“Let’s go, now!” Orion commanded, stepping through the portal first.

I pushed the Talon through, and carrying Kaela in my arms, quickly followed behind. Silas was close on my heels. In an instant, we found ourselves on the other side. It was like stepping through a doorway; one moment we were inside, and the next we were outside in a different realm.

But just as we arrived, trouble began.

A purple arcane circle with strange symbols appeared around us.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Orion sighed.

Before the words left his lips, something transported us again. This time, we found ourselves in a grand hall, surrounded by two figures in long, flowing robes. The woman in the crimson-red dress stood at the forefront, exuding an air of elegance and confidence. Her hair was straight and as white as snow, much like Orion’s. Her eyes matched the color of her dress, and she wore golden jewelry on her lean figure. Reminding me of the vampires from the old tomes of Emberfield’s library. Her lips were a dark red. She was like a dual-edged sword: beautiful on the sides, deadly on the edges.

“What do we have here? A dying woman, a prisoner, two brutes, and a clown. My, my; it’s almost like the beginning of a bad joke,” the white-haired woman remarked, giggling to herself.

“And she laughs at her own jokes; as if she couldn’t get any scarier,” Silas scoffed, earning an icy stare from the woman.

Much had changed about Silas over the years, but I was glad his sharp tongue remained the same. He always had a habit of speaking when it wasn’t appropriate, often using the wrong words at the wrong times. I just hoped his little remark wouldn’t cost us our lives, for the arcane circle beneath us paralyzed our movements, leaving us at the mercy of the woman before us.

“Oh, it talks back; how cute!” she exclaimed. Turning to the woman behind her, she ordered, “Lyra, darling, burn that wretched tongue of his.”

Without hesitation, Lyra obeyed like a loyal puppy. She had flowing red hair, as red as rubies; her cheeks were blushed like strawberries, and her eyes were as blue as the ocean. Her glossy lipstick reminded me of dried red roses, and like the withered leaves of a rose, her face showed no life behind her beautiful eyes.

The pair of gold bracelets on Lyra’s wrists glowed brightly as her pale hand emitted a flame. She manipulated the flame into a tiny flicker atop her forefinger, resembling a candlelight. However, unlike the mild heat of a candle, the intensity of her flame could be felt from across the room, growing hotter with each step she took.

“No, anything but my tongue! You wouldn’t strip a poor bard of his only tool, would you? It’s the only thing about me that’s worth a damn! Please, I beg you...” Silas pleaded, but his words were met with silence and an icy stare.

Lyra grabbed the back of his head and yanked it backward, bringing the flame closer, causing Silas to flinch in fear.

“Be careful with that; didn’t your parents teach you it’s dangerous to play with fire? I would hate for you to burn yourself,” I warned, drawing her attention.

Her gaze was chilling, and for the first time, her eyes showed emotion. I recognized that look all too well—it was hatred.

“Miss Lilith? Can I take the tongue of this one instead?” Lyra asked, not taking her eyes off me.

“My dear, this is the first time you’ve taken the initiative! Of course you can, anything for my sweet, sweet, loyal pet,” Lilith replied, her eyes filled with malice.

After those words left her lips, I understood the nature of their relationship. It was a relationship between a master and her slave. Lyra might have been dressed in a fine blue dress and adorned with blue gems and golden bracelets, but that was just an illusion to mask her true identity—an obedient slave.