Betrayal

"...Vikar," Meli growled, her voice low and dangerous as she leaned heavily against Kel, who was barely staying upright with Sard's support. Their armor and clothes were torn, scorched, and stained with blood, clear evidence of a brutal encounter. "If you forget to mention that the cultists are demonic in nature one more time, I swear I'm going to lop off your head." Her eyes, usually sharp and calculating, were now clouded with exhaustion and barely contained fury.

Vikar, standing behind the guild's counter, didn't flinch. His trademark grin spread across his pale, tired face, the dark bags under his eyes giving him a perpetually worn-out appearance. "Ms. Meli," he said in his usual nonchalant tone, "as I've explained before, I just pass along what's written on the request forms. I don't add details, speculate, or embellish. And, judging by the fact that you're standing here, albeit barely, you handled it." His grin widened slightly, though his eyes remained closed, giving him an air of detached amusement.

Meli let out a long, exasperated sigh, opening her mouth to retort, but Kel spoke first. Despite leaning against Sard for support, his voice carried an unusual gravity. "Vikar," Kel began, his tone steady and serious—a stark contrast to his usual carefree demeanor. "We know you, and we know your intuition isn't something to be dismissed. If you sent us on this mission, you must have had some inkling of what was waiting for us. Yet, you didn't give us a heads-up. Honestly, I'm getting tired of this. The guild's booze isn't dulling the pain like it used to, and if we can't trust our receptionist to give us a fair warning, then maybe it's time my team and I found another guild."

Both Meli and Sard shot Kel surprised glances, unaccustomed to this rare display of seriousness. Kel, usually the joker of the group, rarely voiced such strong opinions unless it was about drinking or games.

Vikar sighed, a hint of genuine remorse crossing his face for a brief moment. "Kel," he said softly, "that hurts, man. I've been handing you quests since your rookie days. Hearing that you don't trust me anymore... it's like a knife in the gut." He leaned back against the wall, folding his arms. "But listen, I really didn't know. Sure, I've got intuition, but it's not some crystal ball. I can't deduce that there'd be hordes of demonic cultists summoning demons just from a vague request form. If you're tired, I get it. I'll assign some other team to the tougher missions if you can't handle the heat anymore."

The room fell into a tense silence, broken only by the distant hum of activity in the guild hall. Meli exchanged a weary glance with Kel, her anger simmering down to a dull frustration. Sard, ever the quiet observer, remained stoic but attentive, ready to support his teammates in whatever decision they made.

Finally, Meli straightened up, brushing a hand through her disheveled hair. "We'll handle the heat, Vikar," she said, her tone cooler but firm. "But next time, don't hold back on the details. We're not asking for much—just a fighting chance."

Kel nodded, the seriousness fading slightly as a smirk crept back onto his face. "Yeah, and maybe throw in a few extra rounds of that watered-down booze as a peace offering."

Vikar chuckled, the tension easing slightly. "You got it, Kel. First round's on me. Just... don't quit on me yet, alright? This place wouldn't be the same without your lot stirring up trouble."

With that, the group turned to leave, each step a reminder of the battle they had just endured, but also of the bond that kept them coming back for more.

As they were about to leave the reception area, Kel paused, glancing back over his shoulder. "...Oh yeah, where's the kid? Haven't seen him in a while... you know, Adam! I think that's his name." His brow furrowed slightly, a hint of curiosity mixed with concern.

Vikar let out a heavy sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well, I just got informed he's in Has Republic now. Talk about ungrateful, huh? Here I thought we were close, and then he just ups and leaves. Kids these days, no sense of decorum or tradition. When you choose a receptionist, you stick with them for life, man..." Vikar's voice took on an exaggeratedly serious tone, only to break into a chuckle moments later. "Pfft, just kidding. But yeah, he's in Has Republic. Why? You need him for something?"

Meli crossed her arms, her expression thoughtful. "Well, Adam handled the first summoning incident, didn't he? I was wondering if he might have picked up on something we missed. Usually, mages have pretty sharp senses when it comes to magical disturbances."

Vikar nodded, his grin softening into a more contemplative look. "You've got a point there. Adam's got a knack for sniffing out the strange and supernatural. If anyone's got extra intel on what's brewing, it'd be him."

Kel leaned against the counter, his earlier fatigue momentarily forgotten. "Think he'll be willing to share? He's always been a bit... independent."

Vikar shrugged. "He might. Adam's not one to hold grudges, and if it's about keeping folks safe, he's usually on board. Besides, Has Republic's a melting pot for all sorts of magical happenings. If he's there, he's probably already knee-deep in something weird."

Sard, silent as ever, gave a small nod of agreement, his eyes reflecting a quiet understanding. Meli's gaze sharpened, determination replacing her earlier weariness. "Alright, we'll reach out. If Adam's got anything useful, it could save us a lot of trouble down the line."

With that, they resumed their exit, their mission still pressing but now with a renewed sense of direction. As they walked away, Vikar's voice followed them, lighthearted but sincere. "Keep me posted if you find anything juicy! And remember, first round's on me when you get back."

Kel waved over his shoulder. "You better not skimp on the good stuff, Vikar!"

As they continued down the cobbled streets of Veldor, Sard spoke up, his tone practical yet weary. "Okay... how exactly are we getting to Has from here? We're in Veldor; it'll take about a week if we use a magic carriage from the guild."

Still leaning heavily on Sard, Kel grumbled, "Well, we better get going. Take me to the carriages—Meli and I will rest there while you gather supplies. And damn, I'll have to pay extra too... I hate how convenient those magic carriages are. Seriously, they're addictive!" His complaint trailed off as he stumbled slightly, catching himself with Sard's help.

Meli, brushing a piece of debris from her hair, added, "Hey, guys... do you really think Adam was the one who did that? I mean, I know he's a raw Copper, but that cave with the burned lesser demons doesn't seem like something he could cause. Maybe we're looking at this all wrong."

Sard's expression turned contemplative as he glanced at her. "I get what you're saying. You didn't see it, but inside the cave, the floor was molten, like it had been turned into lava. That's not something a raw Copper could pull off, not even a high Silver. It'd take considerable power, and even then, it wouldn't be that intense."

Kel, still wobbling slightly, sighed. "You're saying you think he's sent from the Roots?"

Meli frowned, unfamiliar with the term. "Roots? What do you mean?"

Sard explained, his voice low and serious. "The Guild Roots. The three main heads of the Adventurer's Guild. They're the strongest adventurers in the world. If Adam's involved, it's possible he was sent by one of the main branches. That means there's something big happening, something they're keeping under wraps."

Kel nodded grimly. "If the Roots are involved, whatever's brewing here in the Veldor Empire is way beyond us. We're not equipped to handle something on that scale. If this escalates, it might even involve the Underworld itself. Honestly, if it gets more dangerous, we should bail. It's not worth our lives."

Meli hesitated, processing the gravity of their situation. "Roots... so if they're sending elites to handle this, why is it being kept quiet? What could be so important that it needs to be hidden?"

Kel and Sard exchanged a meaningful glance. "Could be anything," Kel said. "But whatever it is, if it's bad enough to call in the Roots, we're out. We'll handle the cultist camps, but anything more, we're done. What about you, Meli? What's your call?"

Meli nodded slowly, a mixture of determination and fear in her eyes. "I'm with you. I want to fight the demons, but... I don't know. I guess I'm just a coward."

Kel placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Not a coward, Meli. Just smart enough to know when a fight isn't worth dying for."

The three of them continued towards the guild's stables, their steps heavy with the weight of the decisions ahead. The streets of Veldor, bustling with life and activity, seemed distant as their thoughts turned inward,

____________________

"Yo, Vikar! What was that all about? I've never seen Kelmar that angry before. What the hell did you do?" 

Vikar glanced up from his desk to see the new arrival—a fellow receptionist with a confident stride and a knowing smirk. Her name was Victoria. She was dressed sharply in the standard guild uniform, though her flair for adding personal touches, like the silver brooch shaped like a rune and the embroidered cuffs, made her stand out.

"Ah, hey, Victoria. What's the Erak Guild's magic expert doing here?" he greeted her with a tired smile, his usual laid-back demeanor barely masking his exhaustion.

Victoria, her dark eyes sparkling with curiosity, leaned against the desk. Her long auburn hair was neatly tied back, but a few strands had escaped, framing her face. "Well, I heard some interesting tidbits from your little chat with Kel. Honestly, things are getting pretty rowdy in the magical community with all the chaos in Erak and Veldor. So, what's the deal? You think we should get involved?" Her question was genuine, but her playful tone suggested she was ready for a bit of gossip.

Vikar let out a deep, weary sigh, leaning back in his chair. His usual casual attire—slightly wrinkled shirt, sleeves rolled up to reveal faint ink stains on his forearms—gave him the look of someone who worked too hard but didn't care enough to make it obvious. "Man, you guys really put a lot of stock in my so-called 'intuition.' I don't really get why. I'm just a guy who reads too many reports and drinks too much coffee."

Victoria chuckled, clearly enjoying his self-deprecating humor. "Come on, Vikar, your 'intuition' has a bit of a reputation. Spill it."

"Alright, alright," he relented, rubbing his temples. "To answer your question... no, I don't think we should get involved. Even though things have been chaotic lately—with the fall of the church and the sudden surge of miracle magic—this whole demon infestation will likely resolve itself. We just need to clean up whatever mess is left behind."

He shrugged, offering a half-hearted grin. "And that, Victoria, is Vikar's daily report from Intuition Incorporated. Hope you're satisfied because I've got nothing left."

Victoria laughed, shaking her head. "You're something else, Vikar. Always downplaying your instincts. Still, it's good to hear you're keeping tabs. Even if you pretend not to care, we all know you do."

"Yeah, yeah," Vikar waved her off with a smirk. "Now, unless you've got more existential crises for me to solve, I'm going to enjoy the last ten minutes of my shift in peace."

Victoria winked as she turned to leave. "Enjoy your peace, Vikar. Knowing you, it won't last long."

As she walked away, Vikar leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. "She's probably right," he muttered to himself, already dreading the next round of chaos heading his way.

__________________________

"Kel... I don't think we should go to Has," Meli said, her voice steady but filled with underlying tension as she leaned against the wall, arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her usually confident demeanor now seemed shadowed by unease.

Kel, sitting on a worn wooden bench nearby, glanced up at her, his tired eyes narrowing slightly. "Visions?" he asked, his tone neutral, though his gaze was sharp.

Meli shook her head slowly, exhaling deeply. "No, just... a gut feeling. If Adam really did what happened in that cave, then he's dangerous. You and Sard might not have magic, but you don't need it to see the truth of it. Someone that young doing something like that... there's a good chance someone—or something—is watching over him."

Kel remained silent, listening intently as Meli continued, her voice growing more somber. "This won't make much sense if you're not a mage, but even to us, it's more like a story from myths. Still, it feels like whatever's happening, it's happening for a reason. And I think we should stay away from it. I know we told Vikar we'd handle it, but... Kel, I don't want to die." Her voice cracked slightly, but her resolve remained.

Kel was silent for a moment, his gaze dropping to the floor. Finally, he spoke, his voice low. "Can you explain?"

Meli nodded, pushing off the wall and stepping closer. "Magic... it's a strange thing. It can't just be learned in isolation. It's passed down, taught by someone who's already mastered it. Every mage carries a lineage of sorts, a chain of knowledge stretching back to the very first humans, who were gifted magic by the elementals."

She paused, her expression grave. "But when someone gains magic in a different way, outside of that lineage, it's... dangerous. There's something called magical addiction. When a mage uses magic, they're interacting with the world from a higher perspective, like seeing the world from a vantage point most never reach. It's not quite another dimension, but it's close."

Her gaze hardened, her voice dropping to a near whisper. "Orthodox mages are trained not to get lost in that perspective. We're taught discipline, control. But unorthodox mages... they almost always go insane. Their eyes turn blue, their very blood changes, fueled by magic itself. They lose their grip on reality and start creating spells and things that not only defy the natural world but threaten to destroy it."

She took a shaky breath, her eyes locking onto Kel's. "In the old days, it was believed that natural disasters—storms, earthquakes—were caused by unorthodox mages losing control. If Adam is one of them... we're dealing with something far beyond our capacity. And if we push forward, we might not come back."

"And how does this pertain to Adam?" Kel asked, his brow furrowing in confusion. "You think he's an unorthodox mage? And you mentioned something about him being watched over. What does that mean?"

Meli nodded, her expression growing more serious. "Right. Let me explain. If magic can only ever be passed down through teaching, then where do unorthodox mages get theirs? It doesn't just appear out of nowhere. Instead of receiving it from the elementals or other mages, what if they got it from something else—something far more dangerous?"

Kel's eyes narrowed. "Something like an archdemon?"

"Exactly," Meli confirmed. "Think about it. If Adam isn't following the usual path of learning magic, then it stands to reason he's getting it from a different source. And if that source is something like an archdemon, it's not just dangerous for him—it's dangerous for everyone around him."

She took a deep breath, trying to put her thoughts into words. "When I say he's being watched over, I mean it feels like there's something or someone ensuring he stays on this path, guiding him for their own reasons. Maybe it's not an archdemon, but whatever it is, it's powerful, and it has a vested interest in him. That kind of backing... it's not something we can fight against easily. It's like he's a pawn in a much larger game, and we're just on the fringes, trying to piece it all together."

Kel's expression darkened as he considered her words. "So, you're saying that if we get involved, we're not just dealing with Adam. We're dealing with whatever's pulling the strings behind him."

"Exactly," Meli said, her voice steady but grim. "And if we're not careful, we could get caught up in something far bigger than we ever anticipated."

"Interesting... but you're wrong." The voice cut through the conversation, making both Kel and Meli jump slightly. They turned to see Vikar standing at the doorway, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Hey! You feeling better yet?" Vikar asked, looking between the two of them. The surprise on their faces was evident, and he raised an eyebrow. "What? Something on my face?"

Meli blinked, clearly thrown off by his sudden appearance. "Vikar, what... what's going on? What do you mean we're wrong?"

Vikar shrugged nonchalantly, as if it were the most casual thing in the world. "Well, for starters, Adam's not demonic, that's for sure. As for the whole unorthodox mages thing, sure, it's a myth. Magical addiction? Yeah, that's real, but it can happen to anyone. Even the most trained mages can fall victim to it."

Kel and Meli exchanged glances, still unsure where Vikar was going with this.

"And as for the rest," Vikar continued, his tone turning more serious but still carrying that unmistakable air of smugness. "You're right in that there are forces at play that aren't exactly... holy. But Adam? He's not part of those plans. In fact, because he was involved, those plans didn't come to fruition. He's the one who messed up whatever they were trying to do."

He straightened up dramatically, crossing his arms and flashing them both a cheeky grin. "And there you have it, folks. Vikar's Daily Intuition Report, live and unfiltered, straight from Intuition Incorporated. Trademarked." He gave an exaggerated bow. "That'll be ten copper, please."

Kel blinked, then cracked a smile despite himself. "You seriously think you're always right, don't you?"

Meli let out a half-amused, half-exasperated sigh. "Yeah, Vikar. You're the expert. But... are you sure about this?"

Vikar just grinned wider, shrugging. "Of course. Trust me. I've got a sixth sense for these things." He tapped the side of his head, winking at them both. "And if I'm wrong? Well, at least you get a good story out of it."

The tension in the room eased slightly, though Meli and Kel remained wary. They'd learned not to dismiss Vikar's hunches entirely, but something about his confidence felt a little too... smug. Still, for now, they had to trust that he might know more than they did.

"Fine," Kel said with a grin. "You've got us for now, Vikar. But if this backfires, I'm holding you personally responsible."

Vikar chuckled. "Wouldn't have it any other way, my friend. Wouldn't have it any other way."

__________________

"Edward!" The voice rang out across the vast open space of the encampment, thick with tension and drama. "Oh, my love! You have returned at last!" Hugo Faoust, standing with arms outstretched, a look of exaggerated passion in his eyes, continued. "I, Hugo Faoust, shall finally confess! Edward Terikson, will you—will you take my hand... in... mmmmm... marriage?!"

Edward paused, brow furrowing in disbelief, but before he could respond, Hugo flung himself dramatically toward him, clearly expecting a heartwarming embrace. But Edward's hand shot out, and a small bomb flew through the air, landing at Hugo's feet. The ensuing explosion made Hugo leap back with a terrified shout, only for him to realize the device was a decoy— a harmless flare meant to rattle him.

"Do that one more time," Edward said, his voice cool, flat, and dangerous, "and next time, it won't be a fake."

Hugo, now on the ground, staring at the smoldering debris with wide eyes, stared at Edward in a mix of hurt and frustration. His outstretched arms trembled as he sobbed melodramatically into the dirt. Edward simply turned on his heel and walked away, his boots silent as he passed by the grief-stricken Hugo without a second glance.

Making his way deeper into the camp, Edward approached the largest tent, its entrance heavy with shadows that seemed to swallow the light. As he stepped inside, the cold embrace of darkness enveloped him. His eyes adjusted quickly, and he moved with purpose, traversing the darkened interior until he reached the center of the tent. There, bound to the ground, lay a woman, her long hair matted and tangled, her clothes tattered and stained. Her head rested at an odd angle, her body limp, but her eyes— dark, wild, and sharp— seemed to track him as he entered.

Before he could speak, a low, booming voice filled the air, the sound seemingly coming from everywhere at once, reverberating off the wooden walls. The voice, cold and commanding, made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

"SPEAK, EDWARD TERIKSON."

Edward's eyes scanned the darkness but saw no sign of the statues that had once filled the corners of the room. Only the voice seemed to exist now, a presence he could feel pressing against his very bones.

"I have succeeded in my mission," Edward responded, his tone unwavering. His confidence seemed to draw strength from the shadows around him, a reassurance that, despite the pressure, he was still in control. "We have successfully sent the package to the church. They, too, have fallen. The confiscated fake cargo, the one the Queen took, made them overlook all other possibilities. It worked exactly as planned." Edward paused, his gaze briefly flicking to the woman on the ground. "I saw it with my own eyes. The plan worked."

The voice rumbled in response, as though considering his words carefully. "Good. As expected from you, Edward. You have done far better than Blackclaw. Your reward will be sent soon. Hugo will deliver it." The voice paused, its tone shifting subtly. "As for now... go to Has. We have prepared a magical carriage for you. It will take you there in half a week. Once you arrive, observe the surroundings. Look for anyone attempting to stop a demonic ritual. But do not engage. Merely observe. Do not interfere."

Edward stood tall, unwavering, even as he processed the orders. His role as a double agent, betraying the Court of Strings when Leah, now the Empress of Veldr, had taken in his sick brother and cared for him—had given him new purpose. He wasn't just playing both sides; he was playing a long, dangerous game. This mission was no different.

"Understood," he said, bowing his head slightly as a show of respect to the unseen leader. "I'll get my things together and leave immediately."

The voice didn't respond. The shadows in the tent seemed to close in tighter, as if satisfied with his answer. Edward turned and made his way back toward the entrance, his footsteps barely making a sound.

As he exited, the only sound was the soft rustling of the woman's clothes and the distant wail of Hugo, still sobbing in his theatrics. But Edward paid him no mind. The game was in motion now— and nothing, not even the chaotic fool behind him, could stop it.