Heidrick’s expression remained neutral.

“True, but there’s more to this voyage than simple transport. The Blue Hope is a microcosm of the larger world. It’s a stage where alliances are forged, rivalries are born, and destinies are shaped.”

Sylas frowned.

“And you’re telling me this why? You’ve kept your distance from most of the factions. I’ve seen how you operate—unflinching neutrality. So, why break that now?”

Heidrick leaned forward slightly, his piercing eyes locking onto Sylas. “Because you are not like the others. You were not from the magic world; basically, you are a baby in terms of the history of magic users."

"This makes you easier to make friends with; I believe there is also a need for intervention that may arise."

Sylas smirked, though his unease grew. “Intervention?"

“The death of Alexander Distantias,”

Heidrick began, his tone serious.

“The Practice Room explosion. The rising tensions among the factions. These are not isolated incidents. Most likely."

Sylas’s eyes narrowed.

“Design? You’re saying someone’s orchestrating this chaos?”

Heidrick nodded.

“Precisely. And while I cannot yet see the full scope of their plan,"

Sylas studied the man carefully.

“And where do I fit into all of this? Why single me out?”

“You are a player in this game, Frost Elves, Third Circle, Dark Father, Dark Sickle, and Sylas Family or Sylind Empire, which are your biggest powers in this ship, the only ones with the real power to affect everything. You need to tell me where you stand…

Sylas leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“Where I stand? That’s easy. I stand where it benefits me and my people the most. I don’t pick sides unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

Heidrick’s gaze didn’t waver.

“A pragmatic answer…"

Sylas tilted his head.

“And you? You’ve built an entire reputation on neutrality. Are you saying even you might be forced to pick a side?”

For the first time, Heidrick’s calm demeanor faltered slightly. “Even I have my limits. As long as the ship is not harmed and civilians are not in danger, I should not be attacking or intervening with the events of larger magic organizations.”

“So, what’s the point of this, Heidrick? To warn me? To recruit me?”

“To inform you,” Heidrick said plainly.

Sylas sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Fine. Consider me informed. But don’t expect me to play the hero in whatever grand scheme this is.”

Heidrick smiled faintly.

“I expect only that you continue to act as you see fit. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Sylas stood, the chair vanishing beneath him as he did.

“Well, this has been... enlightening. Anything else you want to share before you send me back to my room?”

Heidrick rose as well, his imposing figure towering over Sylas.

“Just one thing. Trust your instincts, Lord Sylas."

Before Sylas could respond, the endless white began to dissolve, replaced by the familiar confines of his cabin. He blinked, disoriented, but quickly gathered his thoughts.

“Trust my instincts,” he muttered to himself. “Easier said than done.”

He glanced around the room, half-expecting another surprise.

When none came, he sat on the edge of his bed, his mind racing. Whatever game was being played aboard the Blue Hope, it was clear he was now a central piece on the board.

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

-

Sylas rubbed his temples as he sat up in his bed. The faint echo of Heidrick's voice still lingered in his mind, along with the stark image of the endless white void.

He tried to shake off the disorientation, but his instincts told him that what had transpired was no ordinary dream. It had been something far more significant.

"A level five mage is a monster. I believe Heidrick is not just a level five but stops himself from advancing to level six…" Silas thought.

Rising to his feet, he dressed quickly and left his quarters to go to the main area.

Inside, Gran and Machivel were seated across from each other, deep in conversation. The moment Sylas entered, both turned toward him.

Machivel stood, his sharp eyes narrowing.

“My lord, you seem... different. What’s happened?”

Gran leaned forward, his face etched with concern.

“You don’t look like you slept well, Sylas. What’s wrong?”

Sylas took a deep breath, walking over to the nearest chair and sinking into it.

“I spoke with Heidrick,” he said simply.

Gran’s brow furrowed.

“Heidrick? The judge? When?”

“In my dream,” Sylas replied, his voice steady.

“Though calling it a ‘dream’ doesn’t feel right. It was... something else entirely.”

Machivel’s expression hardened.

“You’re certain it was him?”

“Absolutely,” Sylas said, meeting Machivel’s gaze.

“It wasn’t an illusion, nor a trick. Heidrick manifested himself in a void-like space and spoke to me directly.”

Gran’s hands gripped the edge of the table.

“This isn’t good, Sylas. If he’s using that kind of magic to contact you—”

Sylas raised a hand, cutting him off.

“Relax. There’s no need to panic. If Heidrick wanted to harm me—or anyone on this ship—there’d be no stopping him. We’d already be dead.”

Gran didn’t seem comforted by the statement, but he sat back in his chair, his knuckles white.

Machivel, however, leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with curiosity.

“What did he say, my lord? Why contact you specifically?”

“He wanted to talk about the state of the ship,” Sylas explained.

“The factions, the conflicts, the larger game being played. He implied that something bigger is happening, though he didn’t elaborate much. It felt more like a warning than anything else.”

Gran let out a low whistle.

“A warning from Heidrick? That’s unsettling.”

Machivel nodded slowly.

“Did he give you any specific instructions?”

Sylas shook his head.

“No. Just vague comments about choices and consequences. But one thing stood out—his power.”

Machivel raised an eyebrow.

“His power?”

Sylas leaned back in his chair,

“Heidrick is officially a level five mage, right? That’s what everyone says.”

“Correct,” Machivel said.

“It’s well documented. A level five mage of considerable renown.”

Sylas shook his head.

“That’s the problem. I don't think he is level five, as I believe Heidrick feels... different. I couldn’t sense the limits of his strength. It’s like he’s masking a portion of his power, or he’s far beyond the average level five.”

Gran frowned.

“You’re saying he’s stronger than what we’ve been led to believe?”

“I’m saying he’s either a mid-level five or even at the peak.”

Sylas said firmly.

“And if that’s the case, he’s operating on a scale that’s hard for us to comprehend.”

Machivel tapped his chin.

“That would explain why no one challenges his authority."

Gran looked uneasy.

“But why hide his true strength? What’s he playing at?”

Sylas shrugged.

“That’s the real question, isn’t it? He clearly has his reasons."

Machivel glanced at Gran, then back at Sylas.

“What do you intend to do about this, my lord?”

“For now? Nothing,” Sylas said.

“Heidrick made it clear he’s not my enemy. At least not yet. But we need to be careful. This isn’t a man to underestimate.”

Gran leaned forward again, his voice hushed.

“Sylas, do you think he’s watching us? Right now?”

Sylas considered the question, then nodded.

“It’s possible. He’s the captain, the judge, and the arbiter of this entire ship. I wouldn’t be surprised if he has eyes and ears in places we can’t even imagine.”

Machivel stood, pacing slowly.

“That complicates things. If he’s monitoring us, every move we make could be scrutinized.”

“Let him watch,” Sylas said.

“We’re not here to make enemies, but we won’t bow to anyone either. If Heidrick wants something from us, he’ll come to me directly. Until then, we proceed as planned.”

Gran nodded reluctantly. “

All right. But we’ll keep an eye out for any signs of interference.”

Machivel stopped pacing and turned back to Sylas.

“One last thing, my lord. Do you think Heidrick’s warning is tied to the recent events? The Practice Room explosion, Alexander Distantias’s death, the rising tensions among the factions?”

Sylas hesitated, then nodded.

“It’s all connected. Heidrick wouldn’t waste his time reaching out unless he saw the storm brewing. And if he’s concerned, we should be too.”

Gran let out a heavy sigh.

“This voyage keeps getting more complicated.”

Sylas allowed himself a small smile.

“Would you expect anything less?”

“Stay alert,” he said, looking at both Machivel and Gran.

“We don’t know what’s coming."

Both men nodded,

As Sylas left the room, he couldn’t shake the feeling that Heidrick’s warning was just the beginning.