Not everything had fallen apart during the years at the Halcyon Tower. Many people still believed in the world of magic. But over time, mages and warlocks began to grow familiar with the knowledge and ways of the Vulgus, ordinary human beings. It was the Vulgus who helped shape the modern world into what it is today.
Still, some remained connected while others remained deeply tied to magic. They called themselves Purosangues, pureblooded mages and warlocks. Unfortunately, she wasn't one of them. She was a gifted Vulgus who had somehow been accepted into the Tower of Halcyon. There, she trained and grew into a true mage. She belonged to both worlds; the world of magic and the world of mortals.
She worked at the Sanctum of Solenyx, a branch of the High Sanctum of Ecclesia. There, she served as the Secretary of the Eldritch, the highest position in the Sanctum, and was known as one of the few truly gifted mages of her generation.
But after the war between the former Cleric and the Eldritch, something changed in her. She became distant and withdrawn from the world. Even so, she chose to live her life on her own terms.
Revlis Eristoria Velroque.
"Ms. Velroque, have you reviewed and signed the documents sent by the Nefarious Division?"
Her cognac-colored eyes flickered with awareness behind her glasses as she looked up from her reading. Her beige, wavy hair was tied loosely in a messy bun, a few strands falling around her face. She adjusted her glasses with one hand, then turned toward the Eldritch, Casimir Sluagh Priel.
Among his few trusted acquaintances, he was known simply as Luschariel. The weariness on his face and the faint lines under his eyes made him appear as though he were in his mid-forties, a result of the constant responsibilities that kept him busy.
"That matter did not fall under my authority, sir," she said politely. "It was your responsibility."
He let out a tired groan as she carefully set another small stack of documents onto his already cluttered desk.
"And unfortunately," she added, tapping the top folder gently with her finger, "these also require your signature. I will step out briefly to get some coffee. Would you care for a cup as well?"
Luschariel exhaled heavily, leaning back in his chair and massaging the bridge of his nose with two fingers. "Yes, please. Something strong. I believe I'll need it today."
She gave a small wave of her hand before stepping out of Luschariel's office. Revlis stepped onto one of the floating platforms that glided gently through the air, ferrying mages and warlocks across the many halls and levels of the Sanctum. Several similar platforms floated around her, silently transporting their passengers to different wings of the structure.
"Hello, Ms. Velroque!" a voice called out cheerfully.
"Good afternoon, Percia," she replied with a polite smile, inclining her head slightly.
When the platform descended to the ground floor, she stepped off. The platform hovered momentarily before drifting off to fetch another passenger. Immediately, a young woman from the Alchemy Division approached her. Revlis recognized her at once, a maiden with black hair and a bob cut, she had deep green eyes.
Perciana Avaia Talfaern. If memory served her right, Percia had been promoted to work directly under her Division Head only five months after being accepted. A rare achievement.
"Has the Eldritch signed the documents for our Division's recommendation yet?" Percia asked.
Revlis's expression tightened, her brows drawing slightly together as she considered how to respond. "He's still in the process of reconsidering."
Percia's face quickly shifted to a worried frown. "Ah... Do you think he was displeased with our proposal?"
Revlis gently shook her head. "No, not at all. The Eldritch simply has an overwhelming number of documents to review. And when I left his office," she added with a faint sigh, "he was still reading your documents."
"I see. Well, that's good to know!" Percia replied with a relieved smile.
"I shall go ahead now, Percia. Enjoy your day," Revlis said warmly, offering a brief nod before turning to leave.
Outside, the sun poured over the cobbled streets of Edinburgh, casting soft light on the aged stone buildings. With both hands tucked into the deep pockets of her dark maxi coat, Revlis walked, her mind still half in the Sanctum. She let out a quiet sigh as she reached her destination, Book 'n Cup Café.
The gentle chime of a bell signaled her entrance.
"Good day to you, miss. What would you like?" the barista asked with a courteous smile.
Revlis stepped up to the counter, scanned the chalkboard menu overhead, then gave a soft hum of thought before answering.
"I'll have two cups of your strongest brew. Black, no sugar… and one caramel brew, light on the milk."
"Certainly. Will that be for here or to go?"
"To go, please," she replied with a faint smile, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
The barista nodded and set to work, the soft sound of grinding beans and steaming milk filling the air around her.
She took a seat in one of the available chairs by the window, setting her glasses down gently on the table. With a quiet sigh, she reached up to adjust her bun, tucking a few stray strands of hair back into place. A soft huff escaped her lips as she leaned back, letting herself breathe for a moment.
Minutes passed quietly, the scent of roasted beans and caramel lingering in the air.
Soon enough, the barista approached with her order in hand. Revlis rose to her feet promptly and accepted the drinks with a nod of thanks.
"Thank you," she said, her tone polite but brief.
"Please come again," the barista replied warmly.
Without another word, Revlis gave a courteous nod and stepped out of the café, the bell above the door chiming softly behind her as she returned to the sunlit streets of Edinburgh.
"Excuse me, Velroque."
She grimaced. That voice.
Slowly, she turned around and there he was. Blonde hair and grey eyes. He wore a forest black sweater beneath a black overcoat. Burberry, of course. And tailored slacks from Ermenegildo Zegna. He was wearing vulgus clothes?
He was always the last person she wanted to see.
In his hand were her glasses—the ones she'd left behind in the café.
Iuhence Corvus Hazelrink.
Of all people.
He extended the glasses toward her with the same smug composure he always has back at the Halcyon Tower.
"You forgot your glasses."