Council of the Mage Circle | England
The council chamber is austere, furnished only with essentials: grimoires stacked beside carved catalysts and a round table cluttered with scrolls, offering twelve seats. Celeste and Jarkata stand before eight hooded mages— four in white, four in black— who watch them in measured silence.
A mage in black breaks the silence.
"So you're telling me these two have nearly succeeded in uniting the country?"
Jarkata answers evenly.
"Ryusaki is a major threat. Unity is good, but he defies our orders."
One of the white-robed elders folds his arms.
"Even so, he is evolving magic."
Celeste scoffs.
"Evolving? Devolving. He isolates his country. If he continues, Emberium will fall fully under his control— and there's another problem. We're here, but Ryusaki is planning to conquer us."
Another black-robed mage tilts his hooded head. "Are you sure?"
She nods.
"Over the last five hundred years, I've studied both humans and the supernatural. When someone has enough power, they expand. Ryusaki will expand— just as he was ready to fight us both. He is the highest threat we face!"
Murmurs ripple around the table.
Her voice sharpens.
"If we don't stop him, he'll gain more power— and we'll lose. That's a promise."
A third black-robed mage lowers his hood, revealing long blue hair and blank white eyes.
"Then we strike first? It will cost us many lives, but if Celeste takes him seriously. Then we have to take it seriously. And I believe everyone here agrees with me"
The mages murmur again, this time with clear agreement.
"Now for the other question." the mage continues. "On which battlefield will we fight him?"
Jarkata offers a single word.
"Emberium."
Shock flashes across Celeste's face.
"That's holy ground— we can't."
"We must." he insists. "It's the only way to reach Japan without risk, and we need every ounce of strength we possess. If Emebrium falls under Ryusaki, we'll face a future of magic I'd rather not imagine."
Celeste bites her lip.
"What do you think?" she asks, but the eight robed mages have already slipped into heated debate. As voices tangle, she turns to Jarkata, disappointment flickering across her face.
"In the past." she murmurs, "people would've killed you for saying that."
"It's just risk management." he replies.
"It's the slaughter of civilians and students, Jarkata."
"Ryusaki is different."
The discussion at the table ebbs. One of the white-robed figures lowers her hood, revealing long pink hair and eyes to match.
"Sena?" Celeste breathes.
Sena's gaze is steady. "I know too well what hatred and control can create. I don't want needless deaths, but if we shy away from this risk, Ryusaki wins. You and Jarkata are strong; I've never doubted either of you. That's why we must strike Emberium while he's there."
"You were Emberium's vice-headmistress." Celeste reminds her. "And you're still willing?"
"Two men once asked me which mattered more— protecting what's precious, or risking everything for the world. I chose the world every time."
Celeste sees the weight of that choice etched in Sena's eyes.
Jarkata lifts a hand. "Let's vote. Those in favour of attacking Emberium, raise your hands."
Every mage except Celeste and the white-eyed seer lifts an arm.
"And those in favor of another way?" he adds.
Only Celeste and the white-eyed mage respond.
She exhales.
"I've lost the vote. Johnny, thank you for standing with me."
Johnny— the white-eyed mage— shakes his head.
"It isn't loyalty, Celeste. Something feels off. I can't ignore that."
Celeste nods, though resignation coils in her stomach.
"Then it's settled," Jarkata declares. "We attack Emberium and stop Ryusaki."
The mages take their seats. Pain blooms in Celeste's belly as she sits beside Johnny. He unrolls a parchment, dips a quill, and begins drafting preparations.
Dragon Shrine | Japan
Akai lounges against a wooden wall while Ryusaki sits in front of a dragon statue.
"Father." Akai begins, "we've unified the factions in this country. The mages now move as one. But… we've killed so many. I honestly don't know if it was necessary."
He shakes his head.
"Never mind. What happens next?"
Ryusaki speaks thoughtfully.
"We did it and it cost countless lives. Yet this bloodshed, my son, will be forgiven. It's a small sacrifice in the grand scheme."
"The clan wars have finally ceased." Akai says, eyes narrowing. "But your wing… it's glowing again. I saw the scales on your back rising. Are you sure you're still in control?"
"You doubt me?" Ryusaki replies.
"I fear that one day you might lose yourself. What are you, Father?"
Ryusaki smiles.
"You know of dragons."
"Of course— but I thought they were extinct."
He shakes his head.
"No. Many linger in hidden domains. Humans began hunting them, and at first, they failed. But magic evolved— and so did weapons. A vast army can slay even a dragon."
Akai's interest sharpens.
"I've never seen one."
"That's because they avoid humans. Only a few ever bond with our kind. Even high demons are more willing to forge pacts. Dragons think for themselves and live far too long to be tamed."
Akai frowns.
"So?"
"I'll tell you the story of our origin. Our blood— you have the potential too. Awaken, and start living as an anomaly like me."
?? | Europe
A solitary mountain rises from the European plain, its cavernous entrance gaping like a wound in the rock. Before it stands a lone knight: tall, broad-shouldered, hair the color of pale gold, one eye crimson, the other ivory. A massive blue sword rests across his back.
"You killed a multitude of our people." he says, voice full of fury. "I will vanquish you."
He walks into the cave with purpose. Organic pink matter clings to his boot. The cave is a breeding chamber. Its walls ripple with the flutter of hatchlings— tiny dragons that scatter at the shadow of the knight. Clutches of eggs lie in every corner.
"So this is your brood." he mutters. "Pathetic— bearing children while you butcher ours."
He presses deeper until the tunnel opens into a vast chamber. At its center sleeps a colossal black dragon, her breath rumbling through the cavern. Hatred burns hotter in the knight's chest. He creeps forward, grips the hilt of his sword and gazes at the sleeping beast.
A grim shake of the head— then he drives the blade into her eye.
The dragon erupts, blood and fury exploding in the dark. The knight wrenches his sword free, tearing the ruined eye from its socket. He leaps back as the dragon's roar shakes stalactites from the ceiling.
"Have you ever shown mercy?" he shouts.
Hatchlings wheel back toward him, squealing. With a merciless sweep, he cleaves them apart. Silver sparks dance from the blade as their small bodies fall. The mother's howl grows raw, her wrath towering.
Unflinching, he takes the torn eye and squashes it with his bare hand.
"Balmung." he commands. "I order you—"
The dragon screams, tears streaming. Her wings unfurl— gigantic black wings against a small man in stark contrast.
Blue light floods the cavern as the sword answers.
The knight screams, "BALMUNG!"
The dragon spits fire.
Both are filled with hatred, ready to kill.
Aftermath
The cave's ceiling is blown open from the battle. Sunlight floods in. He staggers through the ruined chamber, blood pouring from a gaping wound in his stomach. His vision narrows to a single, bleeding eye.
Behind him, the surviving hatchlings flee, terrified by their butchered mother. Her wings lie scattered on the floor; only one remains attached to her body. An adolescent red dragon descends. In shock, she hugs her mother and cries out in frustration.
Summoning the last of her life, the mother lifts a shattered wing and folds it over her daughter. Her voice is a faint rumble:
"LuSilfer, fly away… they will claim our mountains. Fly, my daughter—"
The words fade and her vast body slackens forever. Horror seizes the knight.
"No... I was never told they wanted to conquer the mountains. They never told me. What did I just do? I thought— Why did you say nothing to me?!"
He looks around and realizes he is the enemy. He has slaughtered hatchlings, misunderstood their emotions, and ignored the mother's hatred. He spits blood. Remorse spreads through him.
He whispers "I'm so sorry."
LuSilfer's eyes blaze. For a moment, she seems ready to strike— but grief overwhelms rage and her roar of sorrow echoes through the vault. She wheels upward and vanishes into the sky.
Blood pools at the knight's boots. He sinks to his knees. "I will atone for my sins." he vows.
Dragging himself to the fallen dragon, he slits her belly and lowers his mangled body into the steaming crimson dragon's blood. "I will be the hero."
Black scales creep over torn flesh; translucent wings unfurl from his back, shadowing the cavern in a new, ominous silhouette.
DragonShrineJapan
Akai looks Ryusaki deep in the eyes.
"That's our origin," he says.
The doors sweep open and Kibo strides in, breathless.
"I've heard the whole tale, Master— everyone in Europe knows it. You can't be a direct descendant."
"This story took place over a millennium ago. We don't know how the knight's bloodline spread but when I think about it… my father had the same traits. How did you awaken, Father?" Akai asks.
"If magic condenses properly, and my blood carries that dragon's lineage." Ryusaki replies, "Then it's possible but the lesson of the story matters more."
He exhales, shoulders heavy.
"That knight gave up everything to become a hero— and they used him. He gained nothing. Even his death became just another tale. A tragedy. That is why I refuse to submit— submission only breeds exploitation."
"Then conquering is the next step." Kibo warns. Ryusaki nods.
"Yes. We will impose order— true unity. The mages will touch the sky. Our nation will evolve."
"They'll counterattack." Kibo insists.
Akai folds his arms. "You want Emberium? That makes the stakes clear for them."
"So be it." Ryusaki answers. "If necessary, we will kill them."
Akai and Kibo trade a silent glance.
"I remain at your side, Master." Akai vows.
"I only hope they recognize our strength and yield." Kibo adds.
"They will." Ryusaki assures them— his voice calm, unwavering— "My son… my student.