Two days later, Alistair stood at the gates of the Magic Tower.
The massive obsidian structure loomed before him, its surface engraved with glowing runes that pulsed with arcane energy.
Even for someone as unimpressed by magic as Alistair, the sight was… unnerving.
Cedric, standing beside him, shifted uncomfortably.
"…Are you sure about this, sir?"
"No," Alistair said bluntly.
Cedric sighed. "Wonderful. Truly inspiring confidence."
Alistair ignored him and stepped forward.
The gates of the Tower creaked open on their own.
A group of robed mages awaited him inside, their expressions unreadable.
One of them, an elderly man with silver robes, bowed slightly. "Lord Ashencrest. The High Magus awaits you."
Alistair nodded. "Then lead the way."
The chamber was vast, lined with floating bookshelves and swirling magical diagrams.
At its center sat a single man.
High Magus Eldrin Faustus.
He was young for a High Magus, barely in his forties, but his golden eyes burned with intelligence.
"Lord Ashencrest," Eldrin greeted, his voice calm. "I appreciate you coming on such short notice."
Alistair folded his arms. "Let's skip the pleasantries. Why am I here?"
Eldrin's lips twitched in amusement. "Very well. I'll be direct."
He gestured, and a magical projection appeared before them—an image of an ancient, crumbling fortress.
"This," Eldrin said, "is an Aurionian ruin, located near our northern border."
Alistair's eyes narrowed. "And?"
Eldrin studied him carefully.
"We believe Aurion has discovered something inside it."
Alistair's fingers tapped against his arm. "Something dangerous?"
Eldrin's expression darkened.
"Something that could change the balance of power in this continent."
Silence.
Then—Alistair sighed. Loudly.
"Of course they have."
Eldrin's eyes gleamed. "I take it you understand the severity of the situation."
Alistair nodded. "I do."
And he already hated it.
Because if Aurion had found something powerful enough to warrant the Magic Tower's concern…
Then war was inevitable.
End of Chapter 12