Theurgy: The Citadel of Light (Book Three)

Chapter 2 Warfare

"Are you serious?" Ryan looked to the apprentice of the Grandmaster, who had just laid out the reasoning of this plan he was to relay. Currently, they traversed the very corridors of Liberio, which needed to be clarified. Some doors here were more than doors, leading to impossible places, space bending oddly and linking different parts of the school together in a web that could be difficult to traverse without knowledge. All around, students of varying ages walked about unimpeded by the confusing layout of Liberio. Ryan did notice that most of the younger students, ages ranging from 10-12, lived mainly on the lower levels of the schools. While those on the upper floors were nearly adults, nearly his own age, and walked with apparent seniority whenever the younger students were around. John seemed to raise no attention; in fact, his outfit blended quite well here in Liberio; Ryan wondered for a second if he had gone here in the past. Their reaction to himself was a little mixed. Some were curious, seeing the man clad in black robes, obviously no mage himself. Others who could look deeper were put off, feeling an overwhelming presence, unlike any mage or person they'd ever felt. And some still, mainly the teachers and eldest among them who recognized this feeling, furrowed their brows. What was a knight doing here in Liberio, much less Torlak?

"He was quite serious," John told him. "Of course, if it's not too much trouble, godslayer. But he wishes to have someone fluent in the arts of Knights to conduct this sort of course among the senior students here at Liberio. It's been over a decade since a mage has even encountered a knight; many of our seniors among the military police have the experience, of course, but nothing on the level of one who lived and breathed this stuff. Besides, your family was more than familiar with the Knight's talents and Torlakian magic; you must have a unique perspective regarding this coming war."

Ryan sighed. "I suppose you have some points. But Lyse wants this to be expedient, so less than a week; I'm leaving here with her, John."

He smirked at Ryan's posture. "You speak as if she doesn't have a choice of her own."

"A choice?" he raised a brow. "This war that's coming, how can anyone say no to that sort of responsibility."

"Did that sort of argument is how Lyse persuaded you to join his cause?"

That did give Ryan pause for consideration. It had not yet dawned on him that not everyone would be so willing to drop their previous lives to join such an unknown and uncertain cause. It would be far too much to dump on some little girl told to save the world. He will have o be more tactful in his approach, he supposed. And first step is getting to know her, knowing her even before knowing her. Know her way of life, know what she values, and what she is willing to fight for. The corners of Ryan's mouth perked up. His thought process was not so unlike when he would case out outlaws and criminals during his time as a bounty hunter. And looking back on it now, he wonders how much of these tactics were used upon himself by Lyse when they first met.

John finally stopped before a large silver door, a depiction of a stag carved into it, with golden eyes dancing amidst a clearing and both moons overhead. John approached it and gave it two quick knocks before backing away. Ryan saw no locks or even a door handle, but sure enough, he surmised that there was a way to open a door like this. Within seconds I felt the subtle pull of avra, a spell being used nearby. Then, heavy thuds and clicks from the door before it swung open. Harsh light assaulted Ryan before adjusting to a reasonably lit room, rather large and unassuming at a glance. A large semi-circle desk laid before an entire glass window overlooking the vast estate of Liberio. The early sun bled in at an angle but reflected off of several mirror stands that decorated every other wall—mirrors of various sizes, designs, and shapes. Ryan could see himself reflected again and again. in the varying reflections as he stepped forward. Ryan could feel a fairly powerful magical presence here, and the person no doubt was responsible for its creation. He walked along with John before stopping before that large desk and nodded his head towards its sole occupant. An older woman, perhaps in her sixties, with blond hair marred with platinum strands tied into a tight bun. The attire she dawned was not unlike the uniform of her students, except instead of black, the robes she wore were white. And with the light of the sun hitting her, she seemed to glow a little, though Ryan suspected that was not some natural trick of the light.