Oda served the tea with the pleasant smile of a grandmother. She seemed wise and experienced; despite living alone in that cabin, there was nothing unpleasant about her demeanor. The enormous lake made the poetic view of the environment worthwhile. The woman fully understood why Khaled was in her presence. She had felt when her pupil left the tower and was pleased to see him again.
However, the elf remained silent, staring at the cup of mint and linden tea. He knew what the goddess was trying to do: break his resistance and his feelings. The prophecy seemed to pulse in his mind with every passing minute; he couldn't back down now, could he? Had the moment come when he questioned his own choices? He looked around as if searching for answers. He saw his old master taking cookies out of the oven and placing them in front of Liandre, who seemed enchanted by the house, by the little details. The mercenary looked like a giant in that small and narrow space, having to duck every time he moved between rooms.
— You were always a calm little boy, but very rational, talking about the grandeur of magic until there was nothing left to teach someone who always thirsted for knowledge. — Oda said in her low, calm voice, serving the cookies on a tray of refined glass.
— I can imagine it more easily than I'd like. — Liandre smiled, thinking about how the mage must have been younger.
There wasn't a truly faithful image of the other in his mind; however, he could feed his fertile imagination as the elder spoke of her apprentice's extraordinary feats. The old gnome was almost cheerfully, though tiredly, lecturing about the adventures of youth. And even so, Khaled could not enjoy the words, the stories she told, because his mind pulsed with necessary worry. Were there doubts? Even though he had promised himself that he would never back down, even if it cost everything. He remembered the warrior asking if it had been worth it. He always thought it had. Although, this time, he should be better prepared. Power for the sake of power. Not just about that, but about justice, about doing good for those who needed guidance. Not standing idly by in the face of the misfortunes that humanoids suffered due to scarcity, misery, and disease.
Gods did not interfere in daily life. The rule had been imposed by someone older than the gods themselves. Why not? When he learned deep magic, he questioned rules, the magical foundations, divine powers, and their patrons, and found himself wrapped in questions that would never have answers. Then, he thought in his arrogance that he should answer them without waiting for someone else to do it. Khaled found himself at an impasse, and for that reason, barely participated in the conversation. He let out a sorrowful sigh and began to conjure. Liandre ate all the cookies from the first batch and was finishing his tea. He passed out before even finishing the delicious drink, dropping the porcelain onto the carpeted floor.
His master always preferred humility to ostentation; she surrounded herself only with velvety moss, wildflowers, and small enchanted stones that whispered ancient secrets to the wind. The sweet aroma of root tea and dried leaves always lingered in the air, escaping through a thin chimney that snaked up to the top of the mushroom-cap roof. From the porch, where she usually sat in her rocking chair, Oda contemplated the mirrored lake, meditating in silence or talking to the golden dragonflies that, they say, only appear when magic is true. Her house was at once shelter, temple, and an extension of nature itself — a home shaped by simplicity, but interwoven with the invisible threads of ancestral power that she guarded with tenderness and wisdom.
They went outside when she noticed that Liandre was sleeping deeply. The gnome knew it was time to have the conversation, even though she wanted to postpone the moment to enjoy the presence of her former pupil and the companion he brought on such a painful journey. The two sat on the porch, staring at the inexorable image of the lake. Khaled saw himself reading his master's grimoire while drinking tea and eating her famous fried dough balls. He would spend entire afternoons enjoying the scenery, learning ancient magic, and mastering the foundations of the arcane. And now he was back to his origins. He smiled bitterly, staring into the void that lay beyond.
— What's the curse? — He asked curtly, though there was also sorrow in his voice that he tried to hide, while staring beyond the mountains and clouds.
— When the sun hides beyond the mountains, my body stiffens and turns to stone. It's an inconvenience, but I can handle it with my own magic. Sometimes I simply let myself petrify, other times I keep the arcane energy controlling what's in my body. It's not as cruel as your companion's. For, as a magical being, I can deal with the magic in my body. — The woman said, sipping from her cup.
— I see. I imagine my sister too. — With Nádia, there would be four fragments. And who else?
— Unfortunately, yes. The goddess was really intent on getting revenge on you, my pointy-eared one. — Oda said lightly, despite knowing what it meant to have fragments of power within ordinary people. Besides that, Liandre, who couldn't withstand the magic, could harm himself or others around him through his lack of control, but could still endure at certain moments, until his own mind succumbed. In the gnome's view, it was truly a cruel device — using the people the elf held dear as pawns in a power game orchestrated since Khaled first heard about the prophecy. He had no control over how his power would spread through the world, but the one who used his friends to extract his magical energy and attach it to beings who could emotionally wound the mage did. And was Khaled willing to take back each of his fragments, even if it meant the death of those he loved?
— Extracting a fragment means destroying the flesh. There's no way to leave the host alive. — Khaled still stared beyond the mountains, as if he could find an easy answer to help him with that issue. — She knew that; there's no being walking this earth who could have the energy removed without losing their life, because it's the purest form of arcanism — it's living power. And even so, her cruelty reached the point of harming the very people she promised to protect. The goddess of justice? It's an infamous joke. I will take that woman's place.
— There's a reason there are only seven gods, little one. The same rule that says gods cannot interfere. Everyn interfered, manipulated, and used humans. I imagine there will be consequences. Just the fact of giving immortality to mortal beings should be a sin. The gods are closer to humans than we can imagine. They are physical, they're elsewhere, but they exist and can be destroyed. — Oda set her cup aside, turning her gaze toward Khaled, who still seemed absorbed. — I don't agree with what the goddess did to you, but I also don't agree with your need for power, though I do admit how much you desire knowledge. I only have one request before the end.
The mage merely clenched his fingers, finally looking at his master. He could recognize the old age of a gnome: the wrinkled skin, the more puckered lips, the gentle tremor in her hands, and how she seemed smaller than before. Time had been extended thanks to the fragment. When he saw her after so many years, he realized what Everyn was doing; his suspicions became palpable, and the pain was anticipated. The anger he felt grew stronger, the feelings of injustice he had been nurturing for two hundred years in that tower became more intense and harder to control. He ran his hand through her white hair, gently caressing it, as he used to do in his youth.
— Give love a chance. That boy likes you and opened his heart, even though it had been closed for so long; give this feeling a chance. And don't be blinded by revenge and power; always question yourself, my pupil, always ask yourself like you used to. Asking questions, having doubts, is part of your humanity, your feelings, and how imperfect we can be. And don't wait to tell the poor boy that his life depends on you... Don't wait too long, let Liandre decide, just as I am deciding now, Khaled. Don't do what the goddess did to you, not giving you a choice. — Oda held his hand, gently caressing it.
The emotional conflict he was in made it impossible for him to give an answer to her final request. Nevertheless, the elf just lowered his head for a few moments. Noting how his clothes were in tatters after being struck by Laurent, which gave him the same sense of injustice he had been feeling for so long. How to overcome these feelings that consumed him? He looked at the small window that showed Liandre lying on the sofa, sleeping deeply, unaware that his life was being used as a piece in that game played with Everyn. His friends too, manipulated by two seemingly unscrupulous beings. If he had a choice, he wouldn't take anyone's life. But that goddess hadn't given him any way around the situation, using his emotional bonds as payment for his ascension.
— Let's do this before nightfall. — Khaled said, caressing the old woman's cheek, who just smiled and nodded.
The mage began to make a teleportation circle; as soon as he removed the fragment, the three would come, and he knew it. As soon as they felt the power, they would know his location, but this time he would be prepared. He still couldn't face them; their combined power was greater than what he had stored in his body. So, the best option was instant teleportation. The gnome helped her apprentice complete the circle. The mage had already prepared herself, accepted that her life had ended the moment Khaled left the tower. She had long awaited this moment, with fullness and understanding.
Liandre slept so deeply, unaware of everything happening around him. His body was moved by magic to rest in the low grass where the magic circle was. Khaled stroked his face, marked by cursed scars, wanting to heal his wounds, but how could he himself be the cause of even greater pain? Take away his future? All of this was suffocating him in a way he hadn't imagined. He wouldn't back down, even if it meant destroying any worldly feeling that remained in his heart.
His master left the house where she had lived her whole life, carrying with her a pretty cloth with simple purple decorations, red hearts embroidered on it, handing it to her former pupil. Inside were herbs and some cookies she had baked earlier. Her last memories. The old woman patiently waited in front of the one who would one day become the divine aspect of magic. Khaled, in turn, closed his eyes, extending his hand toward the woman who had cared for him like a son. He remembered the moments of hardship, the lessons learned, when they walked together for entire afternoons through the fairy woods gathering alchemical herbs to prepare potions; he fondly remembered who had taught him to read the most difficult grimoires. The lessons learned, the journeys and dangers he had faced at her side. He could feel his hand tremble and hesitate for a few moments, until he tore the fragment of power from his heart, taking what had belonged to him from the beginning.
The gnome simply turned to stone. Khaled's cheeks were stained with tears, running down his neck. He watched the dust carried away by the gentle breeze toward the lake, the same lake where Oda spent her afternoons contemplating while tending to the animals and the garden. He couldn't stay any longer, he couldn't even see around him clearly, as his eyes were blurred by the sensation. At the same moment, the magic beneath his feet activated, and he could glimpse three silhouettes suddenly appearing in front of him. They didn't have time to react, they only saw the mage vanish before their eyes.
Liandre opened his eyes just as his body was enveloped by cold water, staring in shock at the whirlpool around him. He couldn't breathe, he had fallen into the icy water and didn't even know where he was. His confused memories didn't seem to match the situation he found himself in. The first alarm in his mind was to look for Khaled. He tried to steady his body, even with difficulty, using his own strength until he was minimally still. He saw the elf's body sinking into the watery darkness. He cursed mentally and dove, swimming until he reached his hands, pulling him against his chest. Something was pushing him forcefully: the current. He was forced to use all the muscle strength he had trained so intensely because of the adverse circumstances he now faced. He pulled the other's body, the harrowing sensation setting in. He couldn't let the mage stay too long underwater; no matter how much power he had, he could drown. The adverse situation included his own lack of air, but his constitution had been trained rigorously, and he couldn't let himself be defeated by the first difficulty he faced after leaving the land of the elves. He pushed the body upward, struggling with all his might against the current that carried both their bodies forward. First, he needed to reach the surface; Khaled's body was already limp against his. Every part of his muscles being pushed to the limit, especially wearing armor; the extra weight didn't help at this moment.
When he finally surfaced, he gasped for air with all his strength; his lungs burned sharply with the sensation of cold and air. He kept the body firmly against his, hoping his breathing was regular and not affected by drowning, because they had a bigger problem at that moment. The river they were in was carrying their bodies toward a waterfall.
— Holy shit! — He said with emphasis, unable to believe they had fallen from a distance he couldn't even comprehend. He hugged Khaled's body, squeezing him against his own like a bear, protecting the mage as best he could, as their bodies were thrown downward within seconds. He closed his eyes as he fell against the water. He could feel his back hitting something as hard as stone. The water didn't cushion the fall; on the contrary, it caused a searing pain that shot through his entire body until they sank again. But he didn't allow himself the luxury of resting or fainting. He just kept the elf's body safe against his and swam toward the shore; the agitation had subsided, allowing him to reach the dry part.
He laid the other's body on the grass, panting. He felt every part of himself aching, he could barely breathe. The exhaustion was evident in every part of his muscles. He leaned beside the mage's inert body and bent down, trying to feel his breath. Nothing. Despair set in. He began performing the first aid maneuver he had learned long ago in the mercenaries' guild, hoping he was doing it right. He couldn't lose Khaled. Not because of the curse. Not because of the mission they were on together, but because he cared about him. He didn't want to let him simply die in the face of a natural adversity. He leaned in, blowing air into his lungs. He did it as many times as possible. He wouldn't give up. Even with the sun completely setting on the horizon and darkness falling. Danger surrounded them, and he could only think that he couldn't lose him.
Khaled finally began to cough, vomiting the water. Liandre helped, turning his body to the side. The mage was coughing so much he thought he would vomit again. The mercenary felt relief seeing him alive. There wasn't a single scratch, but he had been at the brink of Velinn, the goddess of death.
— What happened? — The mage's voice was hoarse.
— I'm not sure. I ended up blacking out at Oda's house and suddenly fell into a turbulent lake. I don't even know where we are. — Liandre explained, giving Khaled a comforting pat on the shoulder.
— The teleportation went wrong. We shouldn't be in a lake, but in the abandoned city, after my tower. I decided to teleport us to a familiar point precisely because I feared my teleportation magic would be disrupted. It seems Everyn is really interfering with the arcane flow. — Khaled sat up slowly on the grass, with Liandre's help.
— Would Farandhur allow that? I mean, there's a reason there's a god who controls the arcane flow, right? — The mercenary asked simply.
— Farandhur doesn't like me very much. If Everyn were convincing enough, she could influence someone like that petulant god. I don't doubt they've come to a small agreement. However, I believe it's more likely the goddess did this behind his back. Even if Farandhur doesn't hold me in the highest regard, he still wouldn't interfere with a magic; it goes completely against his own beliefs and principles. — He hated defending the god of magic, but he knew him well. Better than he cared to admit.
— You really messed with divine beings. — Liandre frowned in discomfort. — What's your relationship with Farandhur?
Khaled didn't want to elaborate on the relationship he had with the deity who had turned his back on him. In fact, he was more interested in finding a safe place. After what he did in Encanthia, he only wanted to sleep and not think about his own sins. But they were at the riverbank. The forest behind was not inviting. The backpack was soaked, everything they had seemed lost: extra clothes, spices, food, all gone because of the water. There wasn't much they could do at that moment. He could feel the cold breeze becoming torturous because of the condition they were in. And now he had to talk about his past relationships? He let out a tired sigh.
— Liandre, I just drowned. I really don't want to talk about the past or elaborate on how my involvement with Farandhur may have been difficult. — Khaled leaned back on the grass, feeling the soft touch of nature. Elves were beings connected to nature, and the mage was no different. All his life he had been involved with everything that was part of the landscape: creatures, places, food. He lay down once more, even in the cold, feeling the latent sensation of enjoying the night a little. He conjured protections, making the environment bearable. He noticed the mercenary's silence. But he just wanted to enjoy the night and the moonlight, the beautiful stars scattered across the dark sky, the soft glow of the moon touching his tanned skin. Enjoying it for a few moments reminded him of his master. Oda liked to appreciate, for long hours, the landscapes they passed through on their journeys, she had taught him how a field of flowers could help understand how arcanism worked. The natural passage of energy, the power to change, rebuild, and destroy. And he would never again have tea with the old gnome, he had lost the last gift Oda had left in his hands, her cookies and the tea leaf. Because of a selfish goddess. Unfair.
Liandre remained silent. After all his effort, sacrifice, he had naively thought he would at least get some thanks, or a conversation. But Khaled, even apparently fine, seemed to close himself off. His heart tightened as he realized how little he mattered to the millennial being. He had opened his own heart hoping for a reward that never came. He felt pain. His muscles ached, his lungs burned, the effort he had made was evident in every part marked on his flesh. He adjusted himself, staring at the waters once clear and limpid and now darkened like his heart. The elf was wrapped up in his own needs, his own power and mission; there was no space in his heart. And somehow the mercenary had felt that from the moment they met. Khaled, the unattainable figure of a future god. And himself? Just a mercenary. It was impossible for anything to come from such an unequal relationship.