“That being said…” repeated the king. “Your decision to participate in an unsanctioned magical duel, at a ball no less, knowingly endangered members of the nobility and showed an alarming lack of judgment for one with so much—potential.”

Power, Quinten thought, hearing the real word the king wanted to use.

Indicating the council members standing to one side of the room, he continued. “The question of whether or not you deserve a punishment was put to a vote among the Council.”

Quinten was grateful when the king chose not to keep him waiting in suspense. “You were saved by a single vote,” he said. His exhale of relief froze in his chest as he noticed the look in the man’s eye.

“That is of course, until the impartiality of your grandfather’s vote was called into question. The Archmage would normally weigh in as the deciding vote, but she too, could be considered compromised.” The king shifted in his seat, drumming his fingers along the arm of his chair. “It would have then fallen to me to decide the consequence of your recent actions.”

Quinten felt it as his shadow crawled up his legs and gripped him by his wrists, tugging at him as it tried to pull him into the pit of despair his stomach had become. Then the king’s words penetrated, one of them in particular.

Would.

“A change of heart has seen you cleared,” he said. His eyes flashing behind Quinten to where his grandfather’s comforting presence stood. Where they briefly touched on the man before returning to Quinten’s face.

He understood in an abstract sense that the king held the life of every citizen within his kingdom in his hands. But to be standing before the man, at his mercy just as his parents had been, left him feeling untethered and thankful beyond words that the decision hadn’t made its way past the Council. A lump forming at the back of his throat made it hard to breathe.

Seeking out the little flame inside gave him something to focus on, and Quinten clung to the mental image with all his might.

“It is decided that your week in the dungeon was punishment enough for your part in the unsanctioned duel.” Pausing, Quinten saw the hint of a sneer appear on the man’s face. “It helped your case that word surrounding the incident has spread, with both nobles and commoners alike singing your praises. Congratulations, keep it up and you could become a hero of the realm…”

Turning to Cedric, he said. “The time you spent under guard is also enough for your assault on Viscount Highbridge’s person, Lord Vaelmara. That was a stunning right cross, if I do say so myself.” He said charmingly, finishing his sentence with a wink as Cedric’s jaw fell slack in surprise.

If he hadn’t seen the king’s sneer, Quinten might have thought that was the end of it.

It can’t be that easy. It’s not possible that the Archmage would just let what we did to her son go. Not like this.

Sitting forward, the king pursed his lips and his eyebrows lowered as if troubled. “Unfortunately, given your conduct against an Instructor of the Academy and at the request of the Headmistress and Archmage, your time at the Academy is over.”

Quinten heard a familiar grunt from behind him and he could picture his grandfather’s brows drawing down over his eyes in a frown.

The sound of metal clicking against metal as the guards shifted drew his gaze. The armored men and brown-robed mages radiated tension. They stood sentinel, watching and waiting for Cedric or himself to call upon their Gifts. A cough from above made him look up, noticing for the first time the murder holes strategically placed to hide among the ceilings artwork.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

He tried to swallow, but the dryness and bile burning its way up the back of his throat made it painful. Slowly, as to not spook any anxious trigger fingers, he faced forward.

Pushing away the concerns he could not control. Quinten considered what it meant to be kicked out of the Academy. It was stupid, and he knew it, but in that moment, it felt like a harsher sentence than imprisonment.

To his surprise, it was not the king’s voice that he heard next.

“The Academy was never meant to be the end of your path,” said the queen, her voice noticeably warmer than her husbands. “Your talents are needed and better served elsewhere.”

She really is the peacemaker, just like Grandfather Henry always said.

The king nodded, giving her a smile and responding, “You are correct, of course, my queen.” Shifting his gaze back to Quinten and Cedric, he continued. “With the growing unrest of the kingdom, I have decided your willingness to do battle is in greater need elsewhere.”

The pounding of his heart reverberated in his ears like a war drum as realization set in. Quinten let his eyes wander before they locked on to a glowing sapphire sticking out of the wall and radiating a calming blue light behind the king’s head.

“Effective immediately,” he announced. “You will be released from the Academy and begin your mandatory service to the Mage Core.”

A tone of smug satisfaction crept into his voice as he said, “Think of it as just another rapid advancement. Once enrolled in the Core, you will then be sent to the front lines. The war with the Drakovians escalates by the day, and your skill sets and enthusiasm will be of greater value in defending the realm than by staying within the Academy walls.”

Cedric opened his mouth to ask a question, but the King’s gaze silenced him. “This is not a matter for debate. You are to report directly to the Mage Core Headquarters tomorrow morning. You have today to remove your things from the Academy and to settle your affairs.”

Motion at the corner of his eye drew Quinten's gaze like a beacon to the Archmage’s cheshire grin, the unmistakable glee radiating off of her almost suffocating.

In that moment, Quinten finally understood the game being played. This wasn’t about the Academy, the war, or even their apparent support of the people. This was about getting them removed from the board entirely.

They see us, me specifically, as a threat, he realized with cold certainty. They want us dead.

With little to lose and an overwhelming desire to remove the look from her face, Quinten asked the king, “If I may, your Majesty?”

The king sat back with a raised brow but waved for him to continue.

“Will Viscount Highbridge be joining us out west?”

“No,” the queen interjected. “He will remain in the capital while under investigation.”

“Thank you, your Majesty. If I may ask one more question. Is there anything being done to protect the young ladies of the Academy from his perversity?”

Quinten didn’t need to look in the Archmage’s direction to know her face had turned crimson in fury. It was given away by the sound of strangled laughter coming from the purple-robed group, and saddening him by the fact he couldn’t pinpoint where it originated.

Before Highbridge could respond, the queen silenced her with a motion of her hand.

“The accused has been removed from the Academy and the title of Instructor stripped until a ruling has been made.”

Knowing that was the best he could hope for. Quinten bowed properly to the woman and focused once more on the blue light that was having little success in calming his emotions.

Now that he knew his fate, Quinten felt that tiny flame, burned down to the dregs of a candle reignite with new life. Energy roared through his body in a mixture of excitement and resolve.

Finished with the Academy, he was one step closer to fulfilling his commitment to the realm, and one step closer to the goal he’d once clung to—freedom.

Sadly, it was no longer enough.

No, after witnessing corruption firsthand, seeing innocents abused by those in power with no course for recompense, Quinten's desires had changed.

Quinten would go to the front lines, to war with the Drakovians, and he would do all that he could to help bring it to an end. Then, he would return stronger and, with the support he needed to protect those who could not protect themselves.

He would stand as their bastion, bearing the indomitable shield against which the powers that be shattered.