POV Switch: Seraphina Hargrave

Being an archmage at the red-core stage, Seraphina could cast multiple spells in the blink of an eye. Yet, when she beheld the young mage before her, one who hadn't even formed a mana core yet, weaving an entire matrix from scratch within ten seconds, she was utterly flabbergasted.

Callista whistled on the sidelines.

Impossible.

Even the last time she saw this little girl named Eli, she was subconsciously manipulating mana, as if she herself wasn't aware.

She was certain that she was witnessing the subtle emergence of instinctual casting. Seraphina knew a thing or two about it; after all, she herself was an instinctual caster, but hers manifested at a much later stage. Here, she was practically witnessing the birth of another powerhouse of an archmage.

A dark mage at that.

The result was not too surprising, as a dome of darkness unfurled around them, warding off the intrusive rays of light. At lower attunement levels, this manifestation might have resembled a mere fog of inky mist, but with her attunement commanding a solid level 9, she essentially fashioned an area where light dared not venture.

Seraphina had lost count of the numerous requests she had received from nobles imploring her to instruct their progeny. Normally, the prospect of serving as a magical mentor felt as alluring as a wand crafted from spaghetti. However, for the first time, she experienced a glimmer of enthusiasm for such a role.

***

A solitary carriage ambled away from the Shadowstep manor, its robed driver skillfully guiding the horses along the dirt road. Adorning its back was a Phantasm Orchid insignia, a black and blue flower. Within, two women occupied the carriage—one with piercing blue eyes gazing back at the manor, the other reclining in the seat, humming a playful tune.

"Did you feel it too, Callista?" Seraphina inquired, breaking her gaze away from the manor.

"Yeah, it's all around here. Did you detect the locus?" Callista responded.

"I'm afraid not. It appears that the entire county is the locus. The concentration was equally distributed."

Callista emitted a low whistle, as if genuinely impressed. "Holy moly! Who do you reckon it might be?"

Seraphina sighed, "I have no idea."

Ever since their arrival in the county, an air of peculiarity lingered. Seraphina, a red-core mage, effortlessly discerned the weakened fabric of the world and a gateway to the spirit world. It wasn't the first occasion that an amateur mage dabbled in illicit summoning rituals, seeking a spirit familiar without a thought for consequences. The outcome was seldom favorable.

In the art of summoning, the summoner found themselves bound to the gate of the realm they sought to unveil, whether it be astral planes, spirit planes, or hell planes.

Seraphina, attuned to the mana currents in the air, discerned the distinct taste of the spirit plane, a realm most perilous among the planes.

"I'm not certain if a human could even perform this level of ritual, much less connect to the door. Perhaps someone has laid their hands on some sort of artifact," she mused.

"Then it should probably be at least an A-rank piece to have such a massive locus. How incompetent is the local church to not have detected it yet?" Callista remarked.

Seraphina gazed out of the carriage, taking in the winding trees and the ever-watchful moon. "They most certainly have," she responded.

Callista's countenance fractured like fine china as she stared at Seraphina. "I beg your pardon?"

"First of all, your mask just cracked," Seraphina pointed out.

Callista touched her face and grumbled. It certainly was cracked. "You told me you would be getting me a better spell for this."

Seraphina closed her eyes, a green matrix forming on her hand, and the cracks began to seal. "Well, these spells are designed for humans. While you have the anatomy of one, you are not. Be thankful that these at least work on you."

“Yeah, yeah,” Callista grumbled as the last of the cracks were being sealed. If one looked closely, they might have spotted a molten lava-like bright red skin beneath the repaired surface.

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"As I was saying, the church should already be aware of this. Guess who graced Shadowstep county with their presence this week?" Seraphina posed the question.

"Wait..."

"A capital inquisitor, my dear."

"I hate them!"

"I would too, if I were in your position."

"Let me guess, next you'll ask me to stay here and play detective under the guise of teaching those fledgling mages."

"Oh, don’t be naive. You just returned from a mission last week; you deserve some rest."

"Aww, thank you, Sera. I knew you’d understand. So, we're off to send either Maude or Albert!"

"That won’t be necessary, as I'll be tutoring these fledglings instead."

Callista’s smile suddenly dropped.

"But what about your duties back at the tower?" she queried.

Seraphina just smiled back. "I said you need a rest, not a vacation. You can always indulge in that from the comfort of a room behind a desk doing paperwork."

Callista's mask cracked once again.

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POV Switch: Eterisk Viskapäls

Eterisk had dreams. Dreams where she found herself embraced in the arms of a blue-haired goddess, a figure carrying her wounded form towards the gates of the sky. In her pockets, playful kits nestled, and the goddess exuded a warmth unparalleled.

Her kindness, Her warmth. Eterisk basked in it. Savoring the moment of an embrace before the goddess bid her farewell.

The dream ended.

Awakening, Eterisk opened her eyes to lick her still-sleeping kits lying beside her. They remained unnamed, yet Eterisk had plans for their names once twenty-seven cycles of thunder had marked their birth. She had already crafted names for them in her mind.

The tent's flaps rustled, drawing Eterisk's attention upward. A human in armor stepped into the area—a tall, robust male with emerald eyes and blue hair reminiscent of the goddess in her dreams. His entrance was accompanied by a scarred woman, her expression a blank canvas. Eterisk found her quite distasteful.

"How are you feeling?" the man inquired, a warm smile on his face.

Eterisk fixed her gaze on the man. She comprehended his words, even though she couldn't reciprocate in kind. Humans, in her estimation, were peculiar creatures. He posed a question, fully aware of her inability to respond. It might have irked her if not for the kindness she sensed from him, coupled with the fact that his hair resembled that of the goddess from her dreams.

In response, Eterisk emitted a vulpine snort, her way of affirming that she was blessed of the sky, such wounds meant nothing to her, hence she was indeed, fine. Unsurprisingly, the humans didn't grasp her meaning, but Eterisk knew they possessed some commendable deduction skills.

To her satisfaction, they guessed correctly this time.

"That’s good to hear," the man said, his smile reinforcing the warmth Eterisk had sensed from him.

Eterisk initially found herself in a state of bewilderment, convinced she had met her demise. Yet, one day, she awoke to the cries of her kits in a human encampment nestled within the forest. As a mother, her initial instinct was to comfort them, though her vigilant eyes remained watchful of the unknown.

Initially defensive and distrusting, Eterisk soon discovered that these humans not only provided sustenance for her and her kits but were also engaged in an ongoing conflict with the minions of the Vilespawn. The one with the blue hair stood out as their leader, consistently taking up arms on the frontlines. A formidable human, agile and swift, though slightly outmatched against the Vilespawn. Still, Eterisk acknowledged that he might hold his own in a duel against their patriarch.

Accepting the food provided by the human leader, Eterisk savored each bite. The cooked meat and mana stones blended with spices surpassed anything she had ever tasted. She silently relished the flavors, careful not to betray her satisfaction with a visible reaction.

Eterisk could now relate to the sagas of her kindred tribes who willingly forayed beyond the forest and cohabitated with humans. They had their own version of a mutually beneficial pact. The exchange was simple—protection for protection, something the humans fancied calling a 'Bond.'

Another human, blessed with the light and the art of healing, arrived to tend to her kits. Eterisk, pragmatic as always, allowed it. Soon, she ventured out with their leader, the Zach. The humans stared at her as if she were a rare creature, with some even raising their guards. Eterisk wasn't one to court attention, but being a tad smaller than her counterparts, she hoped to project an image of diminished threat.

Human Zach, displaying what she could only label as 'human logic,' asked if she wished to rest or join them in battle. Eterisk let out a vulpine snort in response—why on earth would she choose rest when fully healed? She could contribute more on the battlefield than in the safety of the camp. Human logic, it seemed, was still a bit puzzling to her.

"Eeeee! EEE!" Eterisk delivered her message. Knowing full well that the human comprehension of her words was rather limited, she elegantly ruffled her fur with lightning, an expressive gesture conveying her yearning for action, specifically targeted at those abominable fiends. May the sky erase their hideous mugs from the very landscape of this forest.

"Alright, Alright. Just wanted to ask once. You certainly seem enthusiastic," Zach laughed.

Enthusiastic? That was putting it mildly. Eterisk was practically sizzling with the desire for a confrontation, particularly against the forces of the Vilespawn. Each well-aimed strike she delivered chipped away at their influence. In her solitary battles of yore, she fought alone; now, she had humans as formidable allies. And they were horrifyingly efficient at it.

Eterisk meant every bit of it. The one with the warm smile in front of her was a tactical maestro on the battlefield. He orchestrated their movements with a strategic brilliance, ensuring they were always poised to exploit every weakness the fiends exhibited.

When he joined the fray, his sword moved with unparalleled speed, vanishing and reappearing, dismantling wave after wave of fiends. In the language of strength, power was universal.

For Eterisk, it all began as a sense of indebtedness. The humans had saved her and protected her kits. Repayment took the form of battlefield assistance against the relentless fiend onslaught. Almost two thunder cycles had elapsed, and she continued to stand by the humans whenever they fought. With her pack in disarray and their patriarch gone, she found solace and safety under the humans' protection. Her kits thrived, well-fed and entertained by the humans whenever she went to hunt.

If someone had asked her about considering a 'Bond' with a human three thunder cycles prior, she might have scoffed and laughed. Yet, at this moment, she found herself contemplating it.

As she gazed at the sky, she couldn't help but wonder. The blue-haired goddess from her dreams was also human. Whoever she was, Eterisk harbored a deep desire to meet her.