Maura's head snapped up and she forced her exhausted body forward.

"Woodbead, no!" Kommora shouted. Seiren wrenched her body off the ground after Maura; for a moment, her head spun, but she clung desperately to consciousness. Pins and needles spread throughout her body. Each gasp of air strained against her ribs. She wasn't sure how Maura was able to physically move when Seiren just about stayed awake.

Seiren managed to get up and see beyond the doorway. The organic magic light crept forward and then ended at the base of the stairs -- and Rowan clutched his chest, hunched over, several metres beyond it. Bonneville, Tylene, and Dent all lay on the ground, still.

I can see the chaos magic you used on him. It's still working! said Madeleine, relieved. Maybe--

The organic magic circle pulsed. Maura leapt out and, clapping a hand on Rowan's arm, forcibly threw him into the circle. He landed spread-eagled on the stairs, out cold. Seiren's trace of chaos magic remained a white sheen over his chest. The pulse of organic magic swept over Maura. She flinched, bringing her body together in a vain attempt to protect herself. Her whole body glowed a swirling white, highlighting each strand of straight black hair.

Then her body slacked. Her blue-green eyes, identical to Rowan's, rolled upwards, and she fell back, still. The pulse stopped at the edge of the courtyard. Already, the centre of the circle was building up to a second, likely wider, pulse.

The memory of Madeleine's organic rune flashed across Seiren's mind. She had precious seconds to pull back Maura's soul before it was lost forever.

No!

Don't move! shouted Madeleine. Seiren wobbled on her feet. The rune's still going -- your chaos magic won't help you much!

But Maura--

She knew she was going to die by rescuing Rowan. We can still stop this, but Maura's gone.

Seiren's eyes prickled. The familiar sensation of helplessness as a twelve-year-old threatened to overwhelm her. She clenched her fists, grinding her teeth.

Don't let her death be in vain.

There's nothing I can do! Seiren bit her lip so hard she drew blood. Nothing. Her magic was gone. Everyone's magic was gone. The Karma rune still worked.

There's always something. Madeleine fought to keep her voice calm. Think logically. Okay, rune's gone. And burst, and flash. So is Mother's, though. So--

There's chaos magic. Seiren's eyes widened. The organic rune is still going despite the nullifier. That's probably because it's not powered the same way as the traditional three. So... so...

So you can still use chaos magic -- but how can we--

Mother said she stripped Professor Fernard's magic with core energy magic and stopped all his effects. What if...?

You'll never do magic again if you do that! Kommora told you every time you use chaos magic, it takes away the reserve permanently. Madeleine shuddered as Seiren's memory flashed before her eyes. Your reserve will drop to nothing. And you're talking about stripping our mother of magic.

Our mother, who is happily sacrificing the entire bloody country because she doesn't think people deserve mages. And she killed Maura, Madeleine. And Tylene. And Dent. And all those soldiers out there.

Madeleine fell silent. She knew Seiren was right. Seiren stared down at her scraped, trembling hands. Chaos magic seemed a distant memory. Loren had only ever shown her how to use it to heal.

I don't understand how organic and chaos magic work, but they're based on the original Karma's magic, right? Celestial magic? And rune, burst, and flash were derivatives of that original magic. If I severed Mother's magic, whatever is driving her organic rune will disappear, catalyst or no, like Professor Fernard's reanimation of his wife. Seiren swallowed. If that means I never do magic again, or, hell, if it means I die, at least I died fighting for something I believed in. Karmans didn't do anything wrong.

Madeleine was quiet for several minutes. I'll support you, whatever you do.

Really?

We're sisters. If I don't support your ass, who will pick up the pieces when you fudge up?

Seiren managed a small grin, steeling herself.

Kristen looked up as Seiren approached on shaking legs. Kommora didn't try to stop her.

"Are you here to join me, or to bring me my doom, dear daughter?" Kristen said softly. Seiren met her eyes with a steady gaze. Her mother's familiar face evoked unconditional love and trust deep within, but Seiren had seen with her own eyes just how far she was willing to go for her own goals.

"Just one question: how could you kill Father and Madeleine? Was it really worth it?"

"My life's only regret." Kristen's voice caught in her throat. Seiren gazed into those dark brown eyes, which had always been so full of love and sincerity. Now, they were impossible to read despite the earnest words. Seiren didn't know her any more. "I never intended to involve them in any of this, nor you. I did what I could to keep you out of this, but I underestimated your determination. You're just like your father."

Madeleine sobbed, but despite her sister's wavering resolve, Seiren's face hardened.

"But you did involve us."

Seiren placed her trembling hands on her mother's soft shoulders. She fought to ignore the familiar scent of freesias that made her feel twelve years old again, one who would often clutch at her mother's dress in a tantrum. She wasn't dealing with the loving, kind Kristen Harred from back then. That Kristen Harred never even existed. She was just as fake as her memories of that night that burdened Seiren with six years' worth of guilt.

She shut her eyes, feeling the whisper of Loren's instructions in her ears. Feel the flow of life, of the magic. She opened her eyes. It didn't take long to attune herself to the ebb and flow of Kristen's own magic. The reserve was enormous despite already using her magic to power the organic rune. It was terrifying.

The outline of Kristen's magic glowed the pure white light of chaos magic, not the mimicry that was organic magic, not like the unnatural swirls of the rune Seiren had seen beside Loren several weeks back. Chaos magic was the wrong name for it. Celestial magic. Karma's magic that she gave every person born and bred in her country. Pure, unadulterated celestial magic, unaffected by the nullifier rune. So this was what everybody's magical ties looked like, regardless of their ability to manifest it. It bathed the entirety of Kristen's outer body in that light, with tendrils that reached into the centre and intertwined into the heart, which had a soft white glow. Each pump of the heart caused the flowing silvery light to pulse.

And, as if opening the cover of a book, Kristen's memories came flooding into Seiren's mind.

"This is not my jurisdiction. There's nothing I can do," Kristen said, clenching her fists. The arrogant group of villagers stood before her, arms crossed and scowls on their weathered faces. "Your village has been allocated the same amount of runes as the rest of the villages. You can't ask for extra favours. That goes to your regional representative and they can argue the case at the resource distribution meetings."

"Aw, come on, a state mage like you surely has a lot of friends. Maybe you can spare us some of your rune paper and just draw us some?" said the one at the front, a slimeball from head to toe. Kristen shook her head.

"No. I finished work an hour ago. And it's not my job to give you extras on top."

Their expressions darkened.

"You swore an oath, didn't you? To aid the people of Karma?" said another, spitting at her feet. "What kind of mage are you if you don't help your own people?"

"I'm not obliged to answer every beck and call, twenty-four-seven. I will not give you extra resources on top of what is allocated; that's unfair on everybody else. Goodbye."

With that, Kristen spun around and continued her journey to the train station. She hadn't planned to be stopped like this. They pounced out of nowhere. Her heart thumped; she half-expected them to continue stalking her and yelling abuse. The entitlement of some people was quite disgusting. This was not the first time people had hoped to gain extra favours from her outside of Finberry, outside of her allocated job. Red runes for their little village disputes so they could settle their own resources. Orange runes for long winters when they hadn't done adequate preparations to save themselves from the cold. Green runes for the simplest ailments from which they expected instantaneous recovery. And then complaints when it didn't work the miracle they expected. And she was always the villain for not sorting out every wrong in their lives.

This was not what she signed up for. She didn't sign up to yield to every person's whims, nor answer their summons.

The scene faded. Another came into sight. She was outside the branch of the council of mages in Reculver, having finished supervising there, in her capacity as a king's mage, the appointment of the new state mage, Vikani Pober. Facing her and Pober were a crowd of Reculvans who had attended the ceremony, with several military personnel trying their best to placate the loudest, dissatisfied ones.

"Great, another snot-nose who's going to use her uppity powers on us plebs," shouted one. The nearby quiet citizens appeared unsettled at the negativity. Vikani Pober, although five years older than Kristen, at twenty-nine, seemed unnerved by the heckling.

"If you have issues with how state mages assist their cities, you can write with a complaint to the Council of Mages," said Kristen, irritated. "This is not the venue for you to air your dirty laundry, sir."

"You would say that, Harred!" he sneered. "You lot of state mages have a god complex, thinking you know best. My sister dated a mage and, my god, half the tripe he comes out with! You'd think you were all the best things that arrived since the dawn of time!"

We worked hard for this, thought Kristen, biting back an automatic rebuttal. Six years at King's Academy of Magic, slaving away, and then more laborious years refining their skills. But she was a king's mage now; the onus was on her to maintain professionalism, even when faced with those who did not deserve such respect. I didn't realise having a sister who dated a mage made him an expert in mages.

"If you have issues, you can raise it at the Council," she said with finality. She nodded at the personnel, who dispersed the crowds. With boos, the raucous few threw rubbish at them, making Pober flinch. Kristen felt sorry for her; she was in for a hard time. State mages were still respected; these incidents were few and far between, but it still wore away at their goodwill. It had worn away hers for many years now.

The scene faded, but the resentment remained. Years of this. Endless ungracious people feeling entitled to her hard work and dedication. Long working hours at the expense of her family and the twins who never see her. Exhaustion that racked through her bones. Fewer days off per month than she could count on one hand. Increasing numbers of people who had greater expectations of state mages' skills than even physically possible or imaginable.

"We need a doctor!" cried Kristen, kneeling over the nearest casualty, a child about the same age as her twins, no more than five years old. The dust settled. The train had derailed. It was dark, and within the limits of her yellow runes, there were groaning shadows around of injured people. The last few carts luckily hadn't toppled and Kristen had climbed out to witness devastation. They were in the middle of nowhere, stuck between Hartley and Finberry, amidst lush greens and hilly grounds.

The child's breaths were shallow, her skin ashen. Her chest caved in and deep red blood seeped out. Her time was short. Everyone's was, if help didn't arrive soon.

"Sami!" The child's mother hobbled over, her own leg covered in blood. She collapsed and cradled the child, weeping. "You have to help her, Mage!"

"There's nothing I can do. She's too far gone." Kristen's runes might be excellent, but they did not heal injuries of that severity nor extend life.

"But you're a mage! How can you not help? How can you be so selfish?" The woman's voice rose. She was becoming hysterical.

"I'm sorry," Kristen said in a thick voice, her gut wrenching.

"I hope you go to hell. How can you say you want to help people when you're walking away? What kind of mage are you?"

"There's nothing I can do," she said, her voice breaking.

"Go on then! Walk away! I hope this stays with you forever, monster!"

Kristen was only human. She swayed, two endless days with no sleep catching up with her. Her military aides had spread wide to help those who could still be salvaged. The sight of blood, coupled with the exhaustion and pounding headache, made the world spin. The woman's screeches echoed in her mind.

And then the world morphed into the king's throne room, where a clearly-impatient Pollin sat with his head propped on his arm as Kristen spoke.

"We shouldn't be Karmans' properties. We are professionals. We have our own rights. Why must theirs trump mine?"

"You swore your allegiance to the crown, Mage Harred."

"I did. I'm also a human being. I should not be subject to these inhuman hours and yet still be held accountable when I make mistakes, and also be expected to jump at every command from those who want to bend the rules. Where are my rights? My freedom? I have two young girls at home. I haven't seen them in two weeks. I'm burning out, your Highness. All the mages are. We can't continue like this."

"You can and you will. Who else will hire mages? You are all under a single employer. Me." Pollin jabbed his finger at her, those brilliant green eyes unforgiving. "If being a mage is too tough a job for you, then give up. Be a barmaid or something."

Kristen bit back a retort she would regret. She didn't spend six years studying magic and then fourteen years fine-tuning it to give up against her wishes. She wouldn't throw away all that hard work because of someone like Pollin.

"Hanna treats her summoners with respect and humanity, your Highness."

"You are a servant of Karma. That will never change, Kristen Harred, no matter how much you fight. It'll be a pity if anything were to happen to you or your precious family because of your vocalness. Wouldn't it?"

For a man who advocated for peace, Kristen suddenly saw a chilling side to Pollin when pushed. This was a man who was used to getting his own way and did not suffer rejections kindly. One year. One year she'd persuaded him and, nine years before that, Kentin Miracle to elevate the political status of all mages. Rejection all around. Like father, like son.

He waved at her. And like that, she was dismissed.

People do not deserve magic.

Seiren opened her eyes. Kristen's magic lay entirely in her hands instead of flowing through her body. Kristen kept her eyes trained on hers, large, brown, determined.

"Now, do you see?" she said softly.

Seiren saw.

"I do." She swallowed. "But this is not the way of doing it, Mother. I can't accept things your way."

With a tug, she displaced Kristen's magic from her body. Kristen let out a soft cry. Seiren let go. The magic poured into her own body just as Loren's chaos magic had that day, taking her breath away. She stumbled back, feeling faint, the world spinning, and slid to the ground.

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