Lyra

After what felt like an endless, sleepless night, the sun finally crept over the hill, its warm golden rays brushing against my cold cheeks and freezing hands. That insufferable Merron could’ve at least closed the door to the balcony; I tried, but the magical barrier kept me from reaching it, separating me from the open doors just outside. My hands were sore, and my wrists throbbed from the cursed shackles that bound them, stifling the flow of my magic. The best I could manage was a few feeble sparks of flame to warm myself, but it only left me nauseous with a pounding headache.

Throughout the night, I searched every nook and cranny of the room, desperately hoping to find a way out or anything that might aid me. But there was nothing—no hidden exits, no overlooked tools. Now, I could only wait for Merron to return, as he promised, and hope for the best.

Merron Laureffet hailed from a prestigious family of Thorn Mages. Thorn magic was a rare and powerful bloodline, and the Laureffet family were its sole keepers. Little was known about them, other than their close ties with the Veilsong family—Lilith Veilsong, my former captor, among them. There had even been whispers of a marriage between Merron and Lilith, meant to solidify their alliance; the Veilsongs held a seat on the council, and the Laureffets were wealthy from their slave trade in No Man’s Realm. Fortunately, that union had been indefinitely postponed, with Lilith now rotting in Heaven’s Hold, thanks to Valerian.

“I hope he’s alright...” I murmured, my gaze drifting out the window to the mountains and the vast forest beneath.

As the sun climbed higher, marking the passage of noon, there was still no sign of Merron. My stomach growled, and the exhaustion I’d been fighting finally caught up with me. I swayed on my feet, drifting in and out of sleep, only to jolt myself awake each time. Eventually, after what felt like another hour or two, the barrier by the door shimmered and weakened, and Merron finally walked in, carrying a tray of food.

“Breakfast is served, my lady,” he said with a smug smile.

“What kind of breakfast is served at noon?” I asked, my voice laced with irritation.

“First of all, it’s well past noon,” he replied, his tone annoyingly superior. “And second, it’s normal to eat late in Isilrun. Here, the world awakens at noon.”

Isilrun? Is that the name of this world? As much as I despised talking to him, I needed to gather as much information as possible.

When I peeked at the breakfast he’d brought, I couldn’t help but feel disappointed. The tray held a plate with a bleak, depressing piece of unseasoned fish fillet, a glass of water, and some steamed carrots.

“And where’s the seasoning? Did it run away?” I teased, trying to lighten the grim mood.

“You heard Master Lucius yesterday—no seasoning for you, my dear,” he replied with a smirk.

“You could’ve at least added some lemon on the side. This is no way to serve fish. You, of all people, should know that.”

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“You certainly have a refined palate—for a slave.”

“I’ve told you before: I am no longer a slave.”

“Eat or starve; it’s all the same to me,” he said coldly.

“Fine,” I sighed, pulling the plate closer. “That’s all. You can go now.”

He smiled, but instead of leaving, he whispered an enchantment that sealed the room from the sound.

“It’s like you’re forgetting your place. Don’t mistake my kindness for weakness and don’t let this taste of freedom fool you into thinking you’re anything more than what you’ve always been—a slave. You always were, and you always will be,” he said, irritation creeping into his voice. Just as I had hoped, I’d ruffled his ego. Merron was easier to manipulate when he was angry—his pride wouldn’t let him ignore a slave challenging him.

“If you say so,” I replied, nibbling on the dry fish fillet.

The so-called breakfast was as bland and tasteless as it looked, but I’d take bland over something revolting any day. With my stomach somewhat full, the only problem left was my lingering drowsiness.

“No coffee, I presume?” I asked, wiping my mouth with a napkin and setting the plate aside.

He didn’t answer, instead steering the conversation in a different direction.

“Shall we discuss how we might help each other?”

“We shall,” I said, giving him my full attention, though I trusted him about as far as I could throw him. I’d sooner make a deal with the devil himself.

“First, I must ask—did you come here with anyone else besides the Merrian woman you shared a cell with?” Merron inquired, his tone sharp, as if the answer could change everything. My heart leaped in relief. Valerian and the others hadn’t been captured.

“No,” I lied smoothly. “It’s just the two of us.”

“Good,” he nodded, satisfied. “It’s high time the Academy learned its lesson and stopped sending so many mages here.”

“Why? What happened to them?” I pressed, curiosity tinged with unease.

“Those who resisted died,” he explained, “while the rest either got captured or switched sides.”

“They can’t have died! Their magic still pulses through the lifegems—I’ve seen it with my own eyes!” I insisted.

“When a mage dies, their magic returns to its source—nature, their true home. But we’re not home, are we? And so, the magic has nowhere to go. It stays within the dead mage’s body. Theoretically, it should vanish along with the mage’s soul, but because of some avian binding magic, it remains dormant in the corpses of our fallen brothers and sisters.”

“Why would they bind the magic to their corpses?”

“Because they cannot harness raw magic on their own. They use the bodies of mages as conduits, extracting the magic and turning it into a power source that the Dragonsworn Conclave and the avians can freely exploit. As we speak, those bodies are stored inside the Lunar Tree, which is feeding on their magic.”

“And you allowed this? Have you no shame? You let our fellow mages die like lab rats?”

“This is war, my dear,” he responded coldly. “Sacrifices must be made. If that meant turning a blind eye to their atrocities, letting them believe I’m on their side, and gaining access to their inner circle—then so be it. It’s the only way to win.”

“So, you’re still on the Academy’s side?” I asked, my voice laced with suspicion.

“I’m on the side that will ensure my survival,” he replied bluntly. “And I’m more than willing to walk both sides of the line to achieve that. Master Lucius is interested in you, and I plan to use that to our advantage. Work with me, and there might just be a way out for both of us.”

“And what’s stopping you from betraying me to save your own skin?” I asked skeptically.

“Nothing,” he admitted. “We both know my word holds no honor, but it’s the only word you’ll get. As long as you don’t endanger me and are careful with what you do and say, there’s no reason to worry. I’d rather play both sides until the end. So, do we have a deal?” He extended his hand towards me.

“Fine,” I answered, reluctantly shaking his hand. “But know this—if I suspect anything’s off, I won’t hesitate to take you down with me, even if it’s the last thing I do.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he said with a sly smile.