In a nondescript office building located somewhere in London, the economic capital of Britannia, an important meeting was taking place.
The participants of the meeting were the executive officers of S2 Magus Technology Holdings, Inc., led by company president Matthew Gödel.
S2 Magus Technology Holdings, Inc., was dedicated to furthering the research and development of magical technology by providing funding for up-and-coming innovators through strategic and safe stock market investments. At least, that was the tagline they presented to investment partners.
While they did in fact serve as a holding corporation which dedicated its profits to funding magical research and development, the corporation was initially founded with another more insidious purpose in mind.
It was this purpose which called for the meeting of executive officers currently taking place.
"We have reliable intelligence from Buckingham," said Gödel. "The King has made the preparations to name his heir. It's scheduled for later today. I've called you here to inform you that the necessary preparations have been made and our men are in place."
Gödel was by no means elderly, but spoke with the authority and cadence that would have been expected of a man twenty years his senior. His prematurely-whitened and clean-cut hair lent him an atmosphere of respectability; it was easy to understand why he had been selected for this mission.
"Will there be any fallout on our other missions?" asked one of the officers.
"Nothing immediate, no," Gödel replied. "The operative won't be easily traced back to us, and our operatives elsewhere remain on high alert to handle any unexpected ramifications."
"I have said before that I am opposed to this course of action," said another, "though I supposed I am outnumbered among our company. Nevertheless, may I be allowed to state my reservations?"
"You may," answered Gödel, though he was noticeably uninterested.
"Thus far, we have operated with maximum discretion and have been able to spread our roots deep across the land as a result," the man said. "High-profile actions like this will draw attention to us, and the public outrage will light a fire under MI5, driving them to pursue us. We also risk drawing attention from outlier groups whose actions cannot be easily predicted."
"Your concerns have been noted, Mr. Franklin," said Gödel. "I should say that this strategy has been approved by the Director and his superior, and we have been given the go-ahead to proceed. While we do not wish to draw undue attention to ourselves, this is a critical opportunity to destabilize the Kingdom of Britannia, one which we cannot afford to let pass."
"I understand, Mr. Gödel, but I still think—"
"This is not a democracy, Mr. Franklin," Gödel interrupted. "Your concerns have been noted. Only the approval of Mr. Burton and myself is required to begin the mission. Mr. Burton?"
"My approval is granted."
"Excellent," said Gödel. He pressed a button on his cell phone, double-checked the number, and brought it to his ear. "This is Division Zero. Proceed according to schedule. From this moment forward, communications blackout is in effect. Reestablish contact at 2400 hours. Confirm. Over."
The officers heard a sound from Gödel's phone.
"Verbal confirmation obtained. Over and out."
Gödel looked around at the room at the faces of his co-conspirators.
"Well, gentlemen. Stand by."
***
The group arrived at the practice arena and Elisabeth and Caspian took their places on opposite sides of the field. Henry, with the rest of the Societie leadership and Caspian's party behind him, had taken up a position to act as referee for the match.
"Ms. Blackstone, are you ready?"
"I am."
Elisabeth smiled, her face filled with pride, contempt, and total assurance.
I know exactly how this is going to end, she thought.
"Mr. Dawson, are you ready?"
Caspian looked at the audience, at his friends, at Jessamine, and at his opponent—
Elisabeth.
She's a formidable opponent.
Of course she is, she's a Blackstone.
Still…
…there's no question of who the winner will be.
"I am," Caspian replied, his own smile bursting across his face.
He took one last look at the audience and met Jessamine's eyes.
Show me what you can do, her eyes said.
"The duel will commence on my mark," said Henry.
"3…"
Caspian slowed his breathing.
"2…"
Elisabeth shifted to a combat stance.
"1…"
They smiled.
"Mark!"
To most of the people watching, the battle was a flurry which could barely be followed with the naked eye.
Immediately, Caspian drew a pistol from a concealed holster within his leather jacket and fired off three rounds at Elisabeth. Magic rounds, no doubt; the gunshots had the unique sound of bullets being propelled by something other than expanding gas.
However, the bullets evaporated in puffs of green light as soon as they got close to Elisabeth. Jessamine had previously noticed the runic patterns sewn into the younger woman's overcoat; this answered the question of their purpose.
Shield magic, huh? It appears Caspian noticed as well, since I said that lethal attacks were banned… the only way those magic bullets wouldn't be considered lethal is if he knew they would be blocked.
It was clear that Caspian's goal was not to directly harm Elisabeth, but rather to distract her whilst he repositioned himself. He had begun running in an arc towards Elisabeth's right side, continuing to fire, while his target slowly moved towards him.
"Purgel malprg pan ardox!"
Elisabeth's chant produced a ball of flame at the end of her extended hand, which then flew speedily towards Caspian. He dodged it at the last second with a sharp dash, and the fireball shattered into a shower of embers when it hit the ground.
She's only using simple chants? Yet, those fireballs are stronger than average. Is she trying to prove just how superior she is by limiting herself?
Caspian continued firing until magazine was empty as he continued running in an arc around Elisabeth, with Elisabeth herself slowly closing in on him and throwing more fireballs his way. He had been keeping track of his shots, and as soon as the clip was empty, he pulled another magazine from inside his jacket and reloaded. This time, he aimed at the ground.
Four more shots rang out; Jessamine looked to Elisabeth, where she saw patches of ice causing the young woman to lose her footing—the instability caused Elisabeth to halt her chant midway, causing the forming fireball to fall apart in front of her.
Ice magic? Liquid nitrogen rounds, I presume. But those are very expensive, definitely out of his price range… did he make them himself?
Liquid nitrogen rounds worked on the same general principle as basic magic ammunition, where the energy of the exploding gunpower was used to power magic runed inscribed on the shell casing. However, these runes were designed to completely deconstruct the atoms of the bullet and reconstitute them as a form of massively-condensed liquid nitrogen, and then apply forward momentum. The nitrogen would freeze anything it came into contact with almost instantly. Understandably, the runes required to accomplish such a complicated task required a great deal of runic engineering, which drove the price of liquid nitrogen ammunition through the roof.
The ice had provided a small opening for Caspian, who pivoted and began rushing towards Elisabeth. He extended his hand towards the girl for dramatic effect and used his will to cast magic Elisabeth felt the rune inscribed into her coat begin to falter, a phenomenon that among the audience only Jessamine and Henry noticed. They exchanged glances, both thinking the same thought:
Instinctive counter-magic?
Counter-magic was usually a difficult feat to accomplish due to the nature of the spell being cast, which changed depending on your opponent's repertoire and which was hard for anyone below Expert rank to understand. Even then, most Expert and Master-level magicians, including Jessamine herself, would use chanted counter-magic because of its simplicity.
Instinctive counter-magic was something Jessamine had only accomplished once, when she was diffusing a terror attack in London the previous year and had been ambushed by enemy forces.
At that time, she hadn't thought about what spell to cast or how to do it: her mind and will reacted on their own, protecting her and giving her enough time to launch a counterattack.
Afterwards, she had tried practicing instinctive counter-magic, but had not yet been successful.
I don't know who he is, but he's definitely not a Novice magician if he can use instinctive counter-magic on demand.
Caspian was now only feet away from Elisabeth, one of his arms drawn back and readying a punch.
Elisabeth smiled.
She stepped to the side just as Caspian followed through with his attack, causing him to miss and be carried forward by the momentum of the punch. However, Caspian now had no way of stopping before he encountered the icy ground that he had created to trap Elisabeth, and he was going too fast: he lost his footing.
How could he make such a blunder?!
As he started to tumble, Elisabeth began chanting.
"Ozongon parmgi arxe!"
An invisible gust of wind, small but powerful, struck Caspian in the back. The force of the impact completed the work that the ice had started; Caspian tumbled face-first into the ground, landing in a rather unceremonious position.
When he looked up, Elisabeth was standing before him with a fireball in hand.
"Yield, peasant."
Caspian gave a weak smile, and made a show of shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.
"I yield."
He stood, offering a handshake to Elisabeth, which she slapped away.
As Elisabeth walked past him, she leaned over and whispered something in his ear; something about the small action irritated Jessamine.
Caspian smiled.
"Caz!"
Gwen and Lance were running towards him.
"You okay, man?! That looked like it hurt!"
Caspian rotated his neck and stretched, wincing slightly, but replied:
"It hurts a little, but I'll be alright. This was probably one of the better ways this could've ended."
Henry and Jessamine approached them next.
"Well-fought, Mr. Dawson, Ms. Blackstone," said the duke. "And additional congratulations are in order for Ms. Blackstone. Welcome to the Societie Royale."
She performed a half-curtsey, with a "Thank you" that was slightly too genuine for her personality.
"Now, if you'll come with us—" began Henry, though he was interrupted by his cell phone buzzing urgently. He would've ignored it, except that Jessamine's phone began ringing as well; so did Elisabeth's, and many of the phone of the Societie leadership.
That was usually the sign of a grave emergency.
Jessamine answered the phone first. It was her mother.
"Jessamine? Have you heard?"
"What's going on, mom?"
"Are you alone?"
"No—do I need to be?"
There was silence for half a second on the other end as Annalise di Cadenza decided what to say.
"Listen carefully, Jessamine. The King has been shot."