An Average Reincarnation

The Royal Fire Mage

+++Donovan's Perspective+++

It shouldn't have been possible.

The Dale convoy had an anti-magic barrier deployed from the moment we stepped into the Talisbane Theocracy; it should have obstructed any mana-based spells from hitting the caravan that was Lord class or lower.

Any instant teleportation-based spell currently known is at least Royal class and the mage guard would have detected such massive mana usage from a mile away.

And yet Rafine and the two children were nowhere to be found.

"Lord Derick, you've double checked the mana stone, correct? The barrier has not been tampered with?"

"I oversaw the mages during the inspections and even fired a few spells into the barrier myself. It holds." A dark grimace held on his face as he responded.

"Nya. The coachman isn't talking either nya. Says he's innocent nya." Prisilla walked over to the meeting, gloves still stained red.

I would have normally chastised her appearance, but now is not the time.

"What about our tracking tags Swift?"

"No good," he shakes his head. "Isn't working for some reason. Probably something to do with those weird symbols on the trees."

"I thought you said those were infallible nya." Prisilla commented.

"Tch. They should be."

We stood in silence for a moment before Sylvestra spoke.

"I knew this was a bad idea." I could see her gripping her hands violently, "We should have never agreed to get involved with the nobility."

"Sylvie..." Prisilla patted her back to calm her down, but to no avail.

"You must be overjoyed Lord Derick. To have hired an adventuring party that just so happened to have children in tow, and to just so happened to give them permission to ride in Caspian's carriage. How lucky of you, I should have known that backstabbing is the only thing you pigs were capable of." Sylvestra spat out.

"Sylvestra that's enough!" I stepped in to stop her.

I can sympathize with her but to accuse our employer during a job is tantamount to suicide.

"How dare you! The Lord Derick has been gracious enough to bless your party with a ludicrously profitable contract and you spit in his face like this? In the face of his selfless diplomatic mission?" I turned to look at the bearer of those words, it was one of Lord Derick's advisors, I believe his last name was Ramwell.

I can't say I held him in high regard, especially after that comment. I noticed Prisilla's ears flatten and even Swift gave that scowl he usually reserved for nasty ale.

"Mr. Ramwell, you'd do well to watch your words in front of them. It is one thing to fight in an escort contract, it's another thing entirely to lose your children to it." Lord Derick rebuked coldly. "Organize the knights and have the mages look for any traces of them. We will delay the march tomorrow."

"But sir, the diplomatic mission is already running beh-"

"You mention that diplomatic mission one more time and I will part your head from your shoulders." Prisilla was barely holding back Sylvestra from gutting the guy.

"Mr. Ramwell, this is your last warning." Lord Derick gave him a cold stare.

"Yes sir, I'll get right to it." he said as he left.

+++Rafine's Perspective+++

I awoke to pain.

Dull, heavy pain that filled my senses whenever I took a breath. Whether it was from my wounded pride, my cracked ribs, or my destroyed memento of my sister I didn't know.