It took Byteron a time to regain his composure, longer than he cared to admit. He had never been on the receiving end of Meixong's specialty, but he had heard the tales of those who have. Something simple yet so versatile. It only took a single touch of their hand before whatever they wanted you to see appeared before your eyes. No one knew what to call it, only that it fell within the illusions affinity. However, some were adamant about calling it Fear.

He risked a glance at Meixong, but luckily, they paid no mind to him. Instead, they had picked up one of the numerous documents—he couldn't see which one they were reading—and appeared to be perusing it. They reclined back in the chair with their head tilted to the side, one arm along the armrest, and their legs crossed. Their foot bounced at an odd tempo. It was almost as if nothing had happened. Or, more specifically, they were no longer interested in proving their point further. With Meixong no longer an immediate threat, Byteron unsteadily got to his feet and lumbered over to his chair, sitting upon the cushion heavily.

"I've always wondered why you seemed to have such a grudge against him," Meixong began, their eyes not yet leaving the document. "Granted, you're nasty to all of those you call 'halfspawn,' but it always seemed to be him in particular. Did something happen between you?"

Byteron knew they were referring to Fai, and he didn't know why Meixong asked, but he had no desire to oppose them.

"You know my feeling towards halfspawns," he said tentatively, saying halfspawns as reverently as he could muster. "I don't think I treated him any differently from the rest. He did, however, have the annoying habit of being everywhere, just like his mentor."

Meixong's eyebrow twitched. "Then what about your relationship with Nageth Elvar? It turns out, you have a lot in common. Even, perhaps...the same research interests?"

"Stop being coy."

"You didn't appreciate my bluntness before."

"I don't appreciate you speaking, either."

Meixong only had to lift a finger for Byteron to flinch back, but instead of threatening him like he thought they would, they only began tapping the armrest idly.

"Alright then, I'll take the direct route," Meixong continued, setting the document down to give Byteron their full attention. "I found something interesting the other day, something about Nageth Elvar turning in research to be approved, only for it to be the exact thing you had been researching for years. You accused Nageth of plagiarism. The only problem was, while you had kept your research secret, he made his public, and ultimately, Nageth was ruled as the pioneer while your work became supplemental. And this wasn't the only time you butted heads. You'd be surprised how far a grudge can extend, and I don't think it's unreasonable that your displeasure for Nageth Elvar spread to his apprentice, and even further than that."

"Grudges can't be proved, nor should they be a reliable source for this investigation you're conducting," Byteron said carefully.

Grudges are the perfect cause for a motive. And Meixong didn't miss the way Byteron's jaw clenched when they mentioned the incident with Nageth. They then mulled over his words and actions, methodically tucking them into their memories. This was quite the meandering path they were taking to uncover the truth, but these questions had festered in their mind since Fai's death. If they could kill two birds with one stone, they were a fool to only aim at one.

"I suppose you're right. And everything turned out alright in the end for you; Nageth was labeled a heretic, and everything with his name on it was scrapped. I'd say that's enough for any person to go insane. You've certainly heard the rumor that he did, didn't you? And that's why he disappeared. I can't believe no one's brought this up to his own son, yet, but at the same time, I don't blame them."

"And we should keep it that way. The less the boy knows about that man, the better."

"Why? Afraid he'll turn on you if he knew? Or did you see something in Nageth Elvar that I didn't? Was he a dangerous man?"

Byteron had to restrain himself from scoffing. "Weren't you here to talk about what happened at the meeting? How is this related?"

"It's not. Does that make you feel better?"

It did not. "You're only saying that to appease me and to keep me off my guard."

Meixong only smiled. "Another incident between you and Nageth Elvar was when you were working together in Carvolier. You were the incantations professor before Layleigh Ximor while Nageth taught archival studies. There was a disagreement between you two—one that lasted months before escalating—surrounding mediocres learning magic since most of them are actually capable of it. It doesn't come naturally like the mage-born, and nothing as strong, but they still have some potential."

"And see where that got Fai," Byteron finally spat. "Nothing good comes from those mages, and history has shown they ultimately go on a destructive path. In mage families—true mage families—the responsibility of wielding this power is engraved into us from the very start. Give the same power to the mediocres, however, and they start to feel invincible. I don't know how Fai found favor in a dragon—a dragon you still keep—but he was no mage, and I doubt Nageth saw him as anything more than an experiment. My proof is that Fai never fully became a spellcaster in the end and never went beyond what children learn in their first year. Halfspawns and mediocres should stay the way they are instead of giving them the false belief they will ever be like us."

Meixong nodded along through his entire rant. "Now with all that said, Fai is dead, and Nageth has been missing for over a decade. Why is Nagan involved in all of this suddenly?"

"Because I am watching this happen all over again," Byteron replied bitterly. "I don't think anyone realizes how much freedom and power we've given this boy. Not to mention, all he's been using it for is getting him places he shouldn't be. And do you even realize what he's researching with what he calls 'hypomagicka fields'?"

"That did strike me as odd, actually." Meixong suddenly changed their position, uncrossing their legs and leaning forward, resting their elbows on the desk. They needed to return to the Information Unit by nightfall. "What's your relation to the Erswells?"

Byteron hesitated, and Meixong mentally rolled their eyes. They really wanted him to say it himself, but laying it out on the table would work too.

"I suppose you don't have a connection to Jephro Erswell considering he has yet to be invited to the Arcanademia. You knew his father, though, yes? Now, I'm not part of the Arcanademia either, but as few known members there are, even the late Grand Archivist Erswell would've known you as a Sentinel." Meixong pauses for no real reason except to feign thinking. "Now that I mention it, Nageth Elvar was a Master Archivist before being labeled a heretic, and he was well on his way to becoming the next Grand Archivist after Grandmaster Erswell's passing. A seat that's still vacant to my knowledge—correct me if I'm wrong. I wonder why that is."

"Are you volunteering?" Byteron asked dryly.

"And be labeled a heretic the moment I step foot into the Arcanademia? No thanks. And archival studies weren't taught at Belanuk. Nor are they now taught at Carvolier."

"Nageth broke one of the cardinal rules by refusing to keep silent and spreading information he had no business telling anyone. Part of the responsibility of Sentinels is to guard information from those who would use it to harm, such as the Codex of Drakamir. If we had known Nageth had found it, it would be sealed within the Council of Thirds' vaults and would have never gotten into the Kinsmen's hands."

Meixong blinked in genuine surprise. "Nageth was the one who found the Codex?"

"We believe so. Rorric admitted a while ago that he had received the Codex by an unknown source, and all that was with it was a note—seemingly written by Nageth—saying to keep it hidden. That was also the last assumed contact with Nageth Elvar."

"When did he get it?" Meixong demanded. "How long after his official disappearance?"

"About a year after. Why do you want to know?"

"Oh, I don't know. It's not like I was all that important to that case, just the initial investigator, that's all." Meixong pinched the bridge of their nose. "I even spoke to Master Dagmire directly early on. He knew me."

"Hold on a second, you started the investigation?"

"I was just an investigative consultant back then, but yes, I was the first to start looking for him, and I closed the case after two years of nothing."

But Huayun and I still kept searching when we could. Meixong still remembered the day when they were reunited the first time, Fai flying all the way from Tarkon to the Meixong Estate in East Froshrinra asking for help. He thought of them first before they even had an official title. But Meixong pushed all that aside—all the memories and emotions. Those weren't relevant at the present.

"So it's possible the Kinsmen were looking for the Codex long before all of this?" Meixong asked instead.

"Yes. Either way, if Nageth had just listened to the rules already established, perhaps none of this would've happened. And with the boy following in his father's footsteps, that shouldn't bode well for anyone. The Grand Archivist Erswell is probably rolling in his grave knowing this."

And there's my motive for Master Erswell. But Meixong couldn't help but feel unnerved by this interaction. This...hadn't gone the way they expected. If anything, they were left with more questions than they came with, and none of them related to Nagan's investigation. But they involved the boy, nonetheless. It wasn't often Meixong found themself scraping the surface of something much bigger than anyone could comprehend, but in this scenario, the sense of foreboding was overwhelming. So for a brief moment, they let down their walls, looking Byteron in the eyes.

"Why are you telling me this?"

And they were rewarded with the same, Byteron letting out a deep sigh as he leaned back in his seat. "Because no one wants this war. As much as I want to blame the boy, this is something that's been building long before Nagan was born."

Meixong stared down at their hands for a long while, neither them nor Byteron in any hurry to move. They were two generals in an office, both burdened with knowledge they couldn't act on. Maybe if they had caught it before the war started, plans could've been set in motion, but it was far too late for that now. So without a word, Meixong stood and walked to the door. They got all the information they needed.

"Hark."

Meixong's hand stopped just before it touched the handle, and they turned back to face Byteron. "Yes?"

"If you're worried about harm coming to the boy, you are not the only one who would do everything they can to prevent it," Byteron said, open and honest. "I think Nagan is undisciplined and is a threat to mage society as we know it, yes, but I was once a father, too. No child deserves to die."

A sharp pang of emotion drove through Meixong's heart. "But yet you trained children for war?"

"War isn't something to take lightly. Any new recruit needs to wisen up before facing their first battle."

Then why have children in war in the first place? But Meixong pushed their dormant anger further down. There was nothing they could do about it now, after all.

Byteron then furrowed his brow. "You're much more pleasant to talk to when you're not playing mind games."

Meixong snorted. "I could say the same for you, Fenvar." They paused, looking to the side to hide their growing smirk. "Took you a while to get your head out of your—"

"Get out."

"Gladly." Meixong offered a mock salute to the old general as they opened the door. "To the end of this war."

With a sound click, Meixong cut off any response the old general had.

They walked down the hall, retracing their steps as they thought about everything that had been said. No, they didn't believe Byteron was completely innocent, but they believed him when he said he didn't want any harm to come to Nagan.

I don't think it was Byteron, Meixong said to Sainanak through their connection, the link a bit muffled due to the distance.

Really? You were so convinced earlier. Sainanak hummed. What changed your mind?

I just...Meixong temporarily cut off the connection. I have no other reason to question him unless something else arises. It's best I look elsewhere until then.

You're afraid you're wrong?

I'm always afraid I'm wrong. By the time Meixong arrived where Sainanak was, the dragon had already set her ruby-red eyes in their direction. "Rested enough?"

No. To prove her point, Sainanak rolled over to her side. See? I'm exhausted.

"And that was a rhetorical question. You don't even have wings." Meixong planted one foot in the saddle, letting themself be pulled up as Sainanak righted herself. After swinging their other leg over and doing up various bindings, Sainanak took off into the air.

•________________________•

Sainanak is also my favorite dragon.