Pieces on the Board

The silence between Evan and Theron was suffocating, as if the very air within the cabin had thickened. The Silencing Ward hummed faintly in the background, a reminder that this conversation was entirely secluded from prying ears.

"Your progress hasn't gone unnoticed," Theron began, his voice low but steady.

"You've grown faster than anyone expected. Faster than I expected. But that brings questions—questions you might not be prepared to answer."

Evan narrowed his eyes, the tension in the room thickening. "Questions?" he scoffed, his voice steady despite the unease stirring in his chest. "The only question I have is why someone like you, an advanced apprentice, isn't on the front lines dealing with the Murkwalkers. Why are you here, bothering with me?"

For a moment, Theron said nothing. His sharp gaze lingered on Evan, as though measuring the weight of his words. Then, with a faint, knowing smile, he spoke.

"Because, Evan," Theron began, his voice low and deliberate, "everyone has a role in the Arcane Camp. Understanding that is the first step toward seeing the bigger picture."

Evan remained silent, though his mind raced with questions. Theron continued, stepping back slightly as if giving his words more space to settle.

"Initiates like you are here to find their path, yes—but more importantly, to support the camp's foundation. You handle the day-to-day tasks, keep the place running. The missions you take, the training you endure—it's all part of maintaining this ecosystem."

Theron's tone shifted slightly, more authoritative now. "Intermediates? They are the resources of the Tower. Master Ardan deploys them to handle external threats—feral beasts in distant villages, transporting valuable artifacts, safeguarding important figures. Their role is to protect the broader region while ensuring the camp's continued function."

Evan absorbed the information, but the nagging question still lingered. "And what about the advanced? Where do you fit into all this?"

At this, Theron's gaze sharpened, his expression hardening with something Evan couldn't quite decipher. "Advanced apprentices don't belong to the camp anymore. Once someone reaches this level, they're either accepted into an organization or left behind. These organizations are the pillars of the continent—the real power behind everything you see here. They assign us back to the Arcane Camps, but only when it serves their goals."

Evan frowned. "So you're only here because your organization sent you?"

"Precisely," Theron replied. "Our missions vary. Some of us are tasked with gathering arcane knowledge, others with overseeing specific operations. But one of the most important roles?" His eyes locked onto Evan's. "Training intermediates. Guiding them to ensure that when they ascend, they become worthy candidates for our organizations."

A chill ran down Evan's spine. It was starting to make sense now. "And that's why you're interested in me," he muttered.

"Because you're an exception," Theron confirmed, his voice low. "You already wield the power of an intermediate, maybe even more. That breaks the natural progression. We aren't allowed to recruit initiates—but you? You're no ordinary initiate. You're the kind of potential these organizations are desperate to claim."

Evan let that sink in, but another thought rose, one he couldn't ignore. "If I'm so valuable," he said slowly, his voice edged with defiance, "then why doesn't your organization just send a powerful mage to wipe out the Murkwalkers and keep me safe?"

Theron's expression darkened slightly, and for the first time, there was a flicker of something—disapproval mixed with mild amusement. He let out a quiet, humorless chuckle.

"You're full of yourself, aren't you?" Theron muttered, shaking his head. His gaze sharpened, cutting through Evan like a blade. "You might be valuable, but don't fool yourself into thinking the world revolves around you. These issues—the Murkwalkers, the Lagoon—they're bigger than both of us. You're just a piece on the board, Evan."

Evan clenched his jaw. "So Master Ardan—he can't call on you to help?"

"No," Theron said firmly. "Master Ardan has control over the intermediates, not the advanced apprentices. We follow the directives of our organizations, and unless they say otherwise, our focus remains elsewhere."

Evan's thoughts shifted to Arvid, the intermediate who had fought alongside him before. "So that's why Arvid was sent out? Ardan still controls him, right?"

Theron nodded, his face relaxing slightly. "Yes, Arvid is under Ardan's command for now. But I'm not concerned about him." His gaze sharpened again, locking onto Evan with unnerving intensity. "Arvid knows how to survive. If things get dangerous, he will escape."

That lingering unease in Evan's chest tightened. "But you're worried about me staying here," he said quietly, more a realization than a question.

Theron's answer came without hesitation. "Yes. My organization has already expressed interest in you. But with this Murkwalker crisis, I can't extract you from the camp—not yet."

Evan felt the weight of those words settle over him. His future, his very survival, seemed tethered to decisions being made far beyond his control. But he wasn't ready to surrender to that reality just yet.

Evan's pulse quickened. "Fine," he muttered. "How does this all connect to the Archon? Why was he here?"

Theron exhaled slowly, as if debating how much to say. Finally, he shook his head, a wry smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You're eager, I'll give you that. But you need to understand things one step at a time." He paused, his eyes hardening. "The Archon… he's on an entirely different level. He belongs to the High Council—the very people the organizations answer to. They're at the top of this continent's power structure. Even advanced apprentices like me… we're just pawns on their board."

Evan's mind reeled. The High Council. He had heard whispers, stories in passing, but to hear it confirmed from Theron sent a chill through him. "So what was he doing here, then?"

Theron's gaze darkened, and for a moment, Evan thought he might refuse to answer. But then, Theron took a step closer, his voice lowering, almost conspiratorial.

"I shouldn't be telling you this," he admitted, his tone heavier now. "But… I can feel it, deep in my core—I can trust you." He fixed Evan with a look that was both intense and sincere. "But this stays between us. No one else can know."

Evan nodded, his breath catching in his throat.

Theron leaned in slightly. "There's been… an incident. A conflict between the Sovereign Beast that governs the plane linked to the portal—the Lagoon—and the ones responsible for managing the Violet Lagoon region. That Archon wasn't here on a whim. The invasion?" He gave a humorless chuckle. "It's already started. But the negotiations between the High Council and whatever force controls the Lagoon are still ongoing."

Evan felt his stomach tighten. "Negotiations?" he echoed, disbelief coloring his words.

"Yes," Theron confirmed. "Because no one knows what the next move will be—whether the true magi will intervene, or if the Lagoon's influence will spread unchecked." His voice dropped even further, becoming a whisper. "Whatever happens next… it'll change everything."

The weight of Theron's words settled heavily over Evan, more oppressive than any silence or spell. He suddenly felt the vastness of the forces at play—the High Council, the Sovereign Beasts, the organizations pulling the strings behind every mission, every decision in the Arcane Camp. And here he was, an initiate caught in the middle of it all.

Theron stepped back, his gaze steady. "So you see, Evan," he murmured, "this is bigger than both of us. Bigger than the Murkwalkers, bigger than the Arcane Camp. The storm isn't just coming—it's already here."

For a brief moment, the room felt heavier, as if Theron's words had shifted the very air around them. Then, his expression hardened, and he continued.

"My superiors have already been informed of your… accomplishment," Theron said, his tone deliberate. "They know you defeated a Murkwalker. Now, I'm waiting for their orders to get directly involved. But until then…" His eyes locked onto Evan's with a piercing intensity. "You need to survive long enough to make it worth their while."

Evan's jaw clenched, but his mind immediately went to one thing. Cedric.

"I'm not going anywhere without Cedric," Evan said firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Theron's expression shifted subtly. His brow furrowed, and for the first time in their conversation, there was a hint of hesitation. "Cedric?" he repeated, the name sounding foreign on his tongue. "As far as I know, he doesn't have the kind of potential that would attract my organization's interest."

Evan's eyes narrowed. "Don't underestimate him," he snapped. "Test him yourself if you have to. But I'm not leaving him behind."

Theron studied Evan for a long, silent moment, as if reassessing everything he thought he knew. Finally, he gave a slow, thoughtful nod.

"Fine," he said quietly. "Bring Cedric. Meet me at dawn, in the same place where you fought Arvid. We'll see if he's as valuable as you claim."

Without waiting for a response, Theron turned and vanished into the shadows, leaving Evan alone with the weight of what was to come—and the knowledge that both his and Cedric's futures were now hanging in the balance.