Hela cried out in frustration as her fingers closed around the hilt of Aliath's sword, desperate to wrench it from his grasp. The cold metal bit into her palms, but before she could even muster her strength, a chilling, alien sensation surged through her body like a tidal wave. It wasn't simply Aliath's magic; it was the very essence behind it, something older and far more terrifying. It was death itself, whispering through her veins.
The world around her twisted. Without a heartbeat's delay, Hela felt the floor vanish beneath her and the air warp. When her vision cleared, Aliath's chambers were gone. Instead, a bleak expanse stretched endlessly in every direction, a desolate wasteland of cracked earth and bruised skies that looked nothing like Edvan. A shiver crawled up her spine.
"He forced me out of the kingdom entirely?" she muttered, her voice brittle with disbelief. Then, with a bitter laugh that barely masked her unease, she scoffed, "What a beast."
"What are you still doing here? I thought you were supposed to be with Aliath?" a low voice broke the silence beside her.
Hela turned to the obscured figure a few feet from her. "It would appear the stories are true," she said, steadying her voice though her heart pounded. "Or worse… far worse. Understated, even. We'll need to move quickly."
She didn't wait for a reply. And with a single step forward, Hela appeared in Aliath's chambers once more.
"Teleportation. That's quite rare. But it explains a lot," Aliath said, with little to no surprise on his face as Hela reappeared in his chambers.
"What was that just now? What are you?"
"I told you before. I am Aliath."
Hela stared at him wearingly. She was, before, possibly the greatest wizard of all time. And she feared he might know far more than he revealed. Which meant she was no longer safe. Aliath gestured at the seat in front of Hela, but she was hesitant.
"Relax, I mean no harm. You should have guessed that much already," Aliath chuckled.
And he was right. With that much power, he could have subdued her long ago if he willed. Or was she overthinking it? Could she really be certain about what she sensed? A nudging feeling made her want to confirm once more. She stretched her hand out slightly, but Aliath pulled the sword away from her reach.
"I wouldn't advise that," he said, his face stern.
"You are a man of many secrets, aren't you?" Hela teased, masking her unease with a crooked smile.
"Aren't we all?" Aliath replied smoothly.
But it wasn't the same. At least in a sense. But he was right nonetheless.
"Alright then. I'll leave it at that. But there's still the matter of the food," Hela scoffed.
"Worry not. I'll fetch Bitrus," Aliath said, a sheepish grin tugging at the corner of his lips. He did enjoy giving Bitrus menial tasks.
"The great hero? A mere food warmer?" Hela raised an eyebrow. "This day just keeps getting stranger and stranger."
"He is my student after all."
"I'm sure many would find that hard to believe," she said with a sly glance. "Myself included. Everyone knows Bitrus's mentorship lineage. It's practically taught in every academy across the kingdom. And somehow, it doesn't mention you. But he certainly acts the part." Hela said.
Aliath tilted his head, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "The books don't mention me, so you doubt it. Yet they mention my feats, and you doubt those, too. So which is it, my lady?"
"Well…"
"The thing is, he is my student in a different kind of way. I met Bitrus after he became accomplished. I gave him a different perspective on magic. And life. So yes, he is my student," Aliath interjected.
Hela slouched deeper into the chair she was sitting on, as she stared up at the ceiling. There was something serene about the way Aliath talked, and she felt the tension that had gripped her shoulders begin to ease. Beneath the bravado of his arrogance, he seemed insightful. Almost… wise? She couldn't tell exactly what it was, but she was certain about one thing: Aliath was more than what the rumours made him out to be.
***
Bitrus turned and tossed in his bed, the linen sheets tangling around his legs like stubborn vines. Sleep eluded him for reasons unknown to him. His mind was blank, but his head was full. The silence of the room seemed too loud, every creak of the timber frame and distant howl of the wind gnawing at his nerves. With a sharp exhale of frustration, he sat up abruptly, the mattress sighing beneath him. In a single, impatient movement, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and jolted to his feet. He snatched his robe from a hook on the wall and wrapped it around himself hastily, tightening the belt until it tugged at his waist.
A stroll didn't seem like a bad idea. The night was serene after all. He thought about going to Aliath's chambers, but he knew Hela would be there. Aliath had told him that much. And he certainly wasn't about to walk in on whatever business… or argument was unfolding between them. He sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck as he walked, his boots whispering against the cobblestone streets. Every so often, he nodded politely to the soldiers on patrol. Until a sight caught his attention.
Up ahead, barely distinguishable against the shadows, stood a cluster of figures cloaked in black. At first, he thought they were simply travellers or perhaps scouts returning late. But as his eyes adjusted, a prickle of unease stiffened his spine. He could see their shapes clearly, the way the moonlight caught on the edges of their cloaks. Yet when he reached out with his senses, stretching for the faint ripple of presence that magic or simple instinct would usually detect, he felt… nothing. They were there, and yet not there at all. He was certain about it. Someone was cloaking their presence. And they were certainly up to no good.