Mirrevar.

Alexia felt Leverith’s magic pulsing stronger with every stride toward the fabled land. Mirrevar’s power wasn’t just a myth—it was real, a place imbued with peace and love.

Her horse stepped onto the Great Eagle Bridge, the only crossing of the Eagle River that could withstand the torrential floods from Balbaraq’s Reach. The bridge’s gleaming white marble remained unblemished, despite being over a thousand years old. Thirteen massive arches supported the mile-long span over the world’s most powerful river. As magnificent as the bridge’s engineering was, the enchantments of Queen Alexia Leveria were credited more with its immortality than the stones themselves.

Maleon Stonebreaker rode beside her, and in just two days, he’d become warm and familiar as the summer sun. They traded stories of Arcanium politics and arcane secrets. Alexia smiled at the memory of last night—Maleon teaching her how to channel Celegana’s energy to glide over the ground, scattering debris in her path. He had laughed when she realized she had to fix the land she’d disturbed outside the Buccaneer’s Bed, then helped her put thousands of pounds of dirt back in its proper place. Timmeck, ever the good sport, had volunteered for her experiment and been rewarded with another dose of Leverith’s spirit to ease his sore back after being tossed into the air. The inn’s common room had been filled with laughter and retellings of the event. With Maleon at her side, she’d been able to smile through the attention, listening to strangers recount their versions of the story.

“Ready?” Maleon muttered, glancing her way. “Remember, keep the mask off and see with clear eyes that you’re more than enough.”

Alexia nodded, drawing in a slow breath. Mask off, she told herself. She tapped into Celegana’s energy, as Maleon had shown her, grounding herself to still the anxiety.

A voice called from the ramparts. “What treasure has Leverith delivered to me today?”

She rode up to the gate, battling a flutter of anxiety. “I am Master Alexia Bluerose,” she declared, holding up a parchment bearing the royal steward’s signet—the unmistakable blue rose blooming from a sapphire. She usually didn’t have to work hard to dispel flirtatious guards once they knew who she was. She received no such mercy today.

The knight leaped over the wall, a twelve-foot drop. His armor, polished to a gleam, bore the insignia of Archlord Elagrimear’s Horned Ape. His black cloak fluttered in the wind like a piece of night sky as he landed smoothly. He strutted toward her like a peacock, arms wide in a showy display as the gate swung open behind him.

“Hail, Alexia, Second Great Wizard! Welcome to Mirrevar!”

He removed his bison-horned helmet, revealing a chiseled jaw, sharp eyes, and raven hair slick with sweat. Tall and broad-shouldered, he moved with a feline grace that belied his size.

“I am Sir Aldius of Lelac.” He extended a hand, radiating confidence.

Alexia hesitated before shaking it, noting how his grip was strong but measured—just enough to showcase his power without threatening her. But for all his charisma, she wasn’t about to buy whatever he was selling.

“The stories have understated your beauty,” Aldius said with a wink. “Leverith truly blesses me with your presence.”

Alexia said nothing but felt plenty and none if it good. Rather than don the mask and force pleasantries, she let the silence speak for her. To her relief, Aldius moved on, turning to greet Timmeck with the same overblown charm. The two knights exchanged banter—their words laced with subtle rivalry as they held a pissing contest over their devotion to her. Alexia felt like a tree pissed on by two too many dogs.

When Aldius approached Maleon, the Stonebreaker seized his hand with a grip bolstered by Celegana’s energy. “If I were you,” Maleon said evenly, “I’d show more respect to Master Alexia. She’s a master of cognitive-affectomancy, not some five-iota maid from a Lelac tavern.”

Aldius’s smile faltered, but he quickly recovered, his laugh deep and condescending. He squeezed back, knuckles whitening. “Welcome to Mirrevar, Stonebreaker.”

With a final flourish, Aldius bowed dramatically before Alexia. “Follow me, Great Master. I’ll escort you to Conrad.”

Alexia waited until Aldius was out of earshot before whispering to Maleon, “Thank you.”

He nodded, his gaze dark as it followed the knight. “Pompous ass,” he muttered. “Struts like an unbonded Mahagan emir.”

Timmeck chuckled. “He could be thirteen inches long and still his personality would be the cockiest part of him.”

Maleon’s hearty laugh echoed through the air, and Alexia covered a giggle with her hand. When her laughter subsided, she smiled warmly at both men. Too bad the smiles didn’t last once they reached Master Conrad.

Conrad wore simple sapphire-blue robes, adorned only with patches marking him as a master of Balbaraq’s Sky and Seraxa’s Flames. His figure, soft and slightly stooped, suggested a man who spent more time in tents than in the field. Alexia frowned, knowing how crucial physical training was to magical performance. She’d spent at least an angle each day, twelve days a span, to swimming while channeling Dalis, running and jumping with Zafrir’s wind, climbing or lifting with Celegana’s earth, rapier training with Seraxa’s flames, or meditative stretching with Qoryxa’s ice and Leverith’s spirit. Conrad lacked such discipline, and it made her doubt his prowess.

His face, permanently fixed in a scowl as if he’d just finished a grapefruit, soured further at the sight of Maleon. “Stonebreaker,” he spat, voice thick with bitterness.

“Conrad of Basseter,” Maleon replied, his tone equally cold.

Conrad ignored him, turning to Alexia with a stiff bow. “King Gideon must want to make a move if he’s sent us his finest.”

“Conrad!” Maleon cut in, sarcastically. “Thanks for the lovely praise!”

Conrad’s jaw clenched. “I wasn’t talking about you!” His anger flared, causing the air around them to chill as Seraxa’s energy stirred dangerously within him.

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Alexia stepped in quickly, holding up the letter with her father’s seal. “Perhaps we should continue this conversation in private?”

Conrad, still bristling but regaining composure, led them silently up the main road toward the heart of the encampment. Alexia assessed the defenses as they walked. The wooden walls surrounding the camp were a clear vulnerability, especially at the eastern gate where they had entered. The ramparts there were manned by a skeleton crew with watchtowers spread far apart—like a mouth with missing teeth. If the Ruby forces managed to cross the Eagle River and launch a surprise assault from the bridge, especially with a coordinated push from the west, taking the camp would be all too easy.

Beyond the eastern wall, cranes and docks stretched along the riverbank, where supplies and soldiers arrived from the river’s major ports—Maypine, Ross, Lelac, Weiss, Eggerton, and Eaglerun. The camp itself was organized in a precise grid, with smiths, tailors, carpenters, apothecaries, medicans, and cooks working along every road. Taverns dotted the camp, catering to off-duty soldiers, and staffed by women who offered more than food and drink. Rows of tents housed the soldiers—young recruits shared theirs with comrades, while more seasoned warriors enjoyed privacy. Many tents sheltered both husband and wife, with the women either serving in the army or supporting the camp’s needs. At the center of it all stood Conrad’s pavilion, positioned at the crossroads of the two main roads, flanked by Sir Lucius Elagrimear’s command post and the fort’s temple.

“How fares the battle?” Timmeck asked.

“Neither Sapphire nor Ruby have assaulted the main encampments since the plague ceasefire seven years ago,” Conrad said.

“The age-old war of attrition,” Timmeck said.

Conrad nodded. “Yes. We gain or lose an outpost every few moons, but the fighting stays close to the Cardian. Brighton’s Hedgemen play defensively, as does Commander Lucius.”

“Losing Mirrevar is far more frightening than the glory of winning her,” Timmeck said.

Conrad grunted as they approached his pavilion, a multi-chambered wooden structure covered in blue and silver canvas. A squire lifted the entry flap, and Alexia stepped inside. Maps and parchments cluttered the oak table at the center of the room. An older woman in sapphire robes, striped with silver, sat there, her sleeves adorned with the emblems of Dalis’s water, Norali’s light, and Leverith’s spirit.

“Hello, dear,” she greeted, her voice warm but authoritative as she studied the eight emblems on Alexia’s sleeves. Her silver hair framed a face that had once been stunning and now bore the grace of age. She hadn’t neglected her physical condition as much as Conrad, and neither had nature neglected to bless her physique.

“I am Master Alexia Bluerose,” Alexia said. “And my companions: Sir Timmeck Eckhard and Master Maleon Stonebreaker.”

At the sight of Maleon, the woman’s expression hardened. “Welcome, Master Bluerose, Sir Timmeck. I am Master Elianor Silverglow.” Her warm voice turned cold as she glared at Maleon. “What are you doing here?”

Maleon stepped forward. “Elly, for the sake of the love we once—”

“Do not speak to me of love, Maleon! We both know you never loved me.”

Maleon looked stricken. “I did love you. The Blazelord—”

“Is still alive!” Elianor cut him off. “This conversation is as dead as you are to me.”

“Enough!” Timmeck stepped between them. “We’re here for a reason. Leave your grievances for another time.”

Conrad, softening as he turned to Elianor, added, “They’ve been sent by the Blue Rose, Elly.” He waddled to her side, kissing her cheek in a gesture that felt as much a claim as affection. Maleon looked away, his arms crossed.

Alexia wanted to be in some nook with a book, far away from battlefields and the drama of veteran cognitive-affectomancers who could turn to catastrophic violence at a moment’s notice. Maleon nudged her, breaking her out of the cage of her own mind.

“We need to infiltrate the Ruby Kingdom,” she said, as casually as if asking for sugar in a cup of tea.

Conrad sighed and gestured toward a map of the Ruby Kingdom. “I thought you were here to claim Mirrevar as you did Vulcan.”

“Word travels fast,” Alexia said.

“As it always does along the Eagle River,” Conrad replied. “What’s your target? The Impwood Landbridge? Old Iron?”

Alexia scanned a map and pointed. “Ferrickton. We’re to infiltrate, disable the iron mines, and exfiltrate.”

Conrad grunted as they surveyed the map of Mirrevar. The Eagle River bordered it to the east, the Bear River to the west. The southwest saw the Bear splitting, partly diffusing into the Owl River, the main flow merging with the Eagle at the Grand Confluence beneath Goddess Hill. To the north lay the Impwood and beyond, the Balbaraq Mountains, where battle raged endlessly between the Roswell of Zafirton and the Tandande of Balbarian. The Cardian, a creek running north to south, bisected Mirrevar and marked the front line between Ruby and Sapphire forces.

Alexia’s mission would take her across the Bear River into Ferrickton. But five obstacles loomed: the Ruby encampment’s palisade stretched along the Bear’s banks, in clear view of the Impwood; Ruby scouts patrolled the land between the Cardian and Bear River, likely with hidden stations in the Impwood; a LaGrett navy blockaded the confluence of the Bear and Owl; frequent river traffic made crossing the Bear unnoticed unlikely; and even if they crossed, the Bearbreaker Peacewatch patrolled the west bank.

Alexia was sapped after an angle of Elianor and Maleon bickering over the details, Conrad echoing his wife. Timmeck kept the peace, while Alexia attempted to mediate, offering suggestions with growing uncertainty. Finally, Alexia formulated a plan inspired by the tale of Maleon breaking stone from the mountain—though much of it was Maleon’s revisions and Elianor’s reluctant consent.

Exhausted, Alexia exchanged parting words with Conrad and Elianor, eager to escape this room and spend the rest of the day hiding. As they were leaving, Maleon said, “Until next time, Elly.”

“How dare you!” Elianor’s voice cracked like a whip. “You’ve never loved anyone but yourself. You’re a divinedamned narcissist, Stonebreaker! You use, you take, and you break until there’s nothing left. In the end, you will die alone and despised.”

“Zamael grant that the scythe falls soon,” Conrad added, seething with venom.

The ground trembled, the pavilion shaking as Maleon tore the tent flap free with a gust of Zafrir’s wind. He stormed from the pavilion, his tempestuous channeling stirring Alexia’s fears.

“Shite in Gidi’s beard!” Timmeck exclaimed.

Alexia clutched at her chest, conflicted. She wanted to believe in Maleon, in the boy who became the Stonebreaker, and the man who treated her like a friend these past few days.

“Don’t trust him, Alexia,” Elianor implored. “He doesn’t love. Maleon Stonebreaker will bleed you dry until there is nothing left for him and you are empty. I’m fortunate I escaped with my life.”

Alexia stood her ground. “I can’t give up on him like everyone else has. I see the light buried in his soul, Master Silverglow. I believe he’s capable of love.”

Elianor shook her head, her silver hair shimmering like silk. “You truly are Leverith’s chosen, but don’t let your instinct to love and heal blind you to darkness. I once thought I saw light in him too. Instead, I was consumed by shadows and left alone in the dark.”

Alexia frowned and closed her eyes. She looked forward and saw herself fighting chimaeras side-by-side with Maleon. Then the vision shifted—she was buried deep beneath the earth, consuming all the wind in her tomb of shadows, while Maleon laughed. She opened her eyes, determined to forge the first path, not the second.

“Thanks for your guidance, Elianor, and your aid, Conrad,” Alexia said, bowing before leaving the pavilion.