The Riddle Of Magic

Chapter 4: Blueshift

The managers' office phone rang and Alastor beat Charlie to it, using his skills to magick it out of her grasp before she could answer.

"Good morning, Alastor," a rich feminine voice greeted.

"Hell-o Rosie! How is the Emporium doing?" Alastor replied, and Charlie chirped a friendly hello over his shoulder.

"Well, love, that's why I was calling! I was hoping you might be able to pop over to check out something rather... odd."

"Hmm, well, I'll have to check my schedule," the deer demon hummed, tapping his chin. "Charlie-dear, how is our Tuesday shaping up?"

The princess's brow furrowed adorably. "You've got time, Al," she sniffed.

"If you're free, I can pop on over there lickity-split!" he offered his fellow Overlord, ignoring the blonde demoness sticking out her tongue at him.

The hotel still wasn't that busy; due to a combination of their district's near-constant territory disputes, and their own reputation as a waste of time. As much as he was enjoying his game with Charlie, he was very much looking forward to finally getting along with making this place actually operational.

But in order to do that, they needed to put the other Overlords warring about the area in their place.

The princess insisted on playing negotiator, hoping someday the others might come around to cooperation, but he had other ideas.

And his plan was coming along swimmingly! They'd been working at Ward for a little over two weeks now and so far he'd punctured her defense three times - though he'd had to give it a surprising amount of effort on the third try.

She was getting better at the runic structures, far faster than he'd anticipated. He'd been toying with the idea of letting her move to different spells for some additional variety, rather than forcing her to master each in turn.

One spell at a time, or all of them together... either way, it didn't matter.

In the end, the Hellborn demoness wouldn't be able to solve the Riddle.

It was a bit of a pity, really. Charlie had the raw talent to be a powerful magician; she might even rival himself in a few centuries, give or take.

"And I think the princess should probably come along as well." Rosie's voice was chipper as always, but the phrasing was strange. "As soon as you can, love."

"Oh?" he asked but the line clicked. "Well, that was peculiar!" Alastor said, setting the phone down.

"Everything okay?" Charlie asked.

"Some strange business at the Emporium, from what Rosie said," he shrugged. "She didn't say what exactly, and asked us both to come over."

"Both of us?" Charlie asked curiously, and her rose-colored eyes shone as she gasped. "Maybe it's a sinner curious about the hotel!"

"We'll just have to go see, won't we?" he grinned, rising from his seat and adjusting his coat.

The princess was practically bouncing with excitement as she went to the door, turning the notice upon it to read that they were out, then rushing back to him.

They moved to the open space in the middle of the room and Alastor evoked the Phase rune, setting up a sigil to move the pair of them to their destination. Phase required close contact for more than one being, and they'd found a decent routine a long time ago - her arms around his shoulders, and his around her waist.

It was just another kind of dance.

The floor faded away, and they slipped into the shadows.

Shadow-warping was one of his preferred skills in combat, considering the sheer control it granted over the battlefield. It enabled him to strike from basically any angle he wished.