When Sebastian was a child, he used to hate the black, double doors that hid the contents of the Eldenarian council room. He remembered standing beyond them as his father disappeared behind them, loathing the sight of those wretched, black doors. They stole his father from him; the man drowned himself in his work—in the council—until he lost sight of his own family.

Sebastian still remembered The Marking ceremony and how the council members whisked Makaela away after she passed out while receiving her mark. No one knew what happened beyond those doors beside her and the seven members of the council.

To this day, he had never been inside. He never wanted to.

Now he was standing in front of those looming, black doors. The shimmering, golden handles—designed to look like the heads of gryphons—peered back at him, urging him to pull them so he could slip inside the cavernous room.

He wanted to open them. He wanted to join the others inside and begin the meeting.

But he couldn't.

The longer he stared at those tall, stretching, black doors, the higher his anger rose. It swirled within his chest like thick smoke, suffocating him from within. Memories of all the times his father left him beyond the walls of the council room flooded his head. The cold pats on the back. The dead look in his dark eyes. The empty promises.

He remembered it all.

His father's responsibilities as head of House Tenebris and the Eldenarian Council stole his childhood from him. He didn't get the luxury of a normal upbringing like his peers. They got to live without the immense pressure he carried on his shoulders; their parents actually raised them instead of the murderous casters who acted as his babysitters.

Inhaling deeply, he gripped the cold handles of the doors. With a long exhale, he pushed them open.

Torches in metal fixtures burning with orange fire hung on the slightly curved walls. Banners of various colors, each belonging to a different house, hung from the rafters. Statues of past council members populated the black-and-white checkered floors.

Sitting in the center of the dimly lit room was the council room table—a long, black table with a single, orb of pulsing eldricite the size of a watermelon sat in the center. Seven chairs, with one at the head, surrounded the dark piece of furniture. All the seats were taken except for one.

Olivier Moreau—Remy's father and the head of House Lumai—was sat at the front of the table. Imogen, Ajax, Chieftain Naidini, and Siren took up the remaining seats. Every set of eyes in the room were bloodshot—likely from tiredness or tears.

In some of their cases, it might have been both.

Sebastian could relate. But the time for sleep and crying would have to wait. They needed to have this meeting.

After the events of the battle in Vashara, the Eldenarian Council was left even more fractured than it already was. Half the members were either killed, missing, or allied with the Order of the Black Lotus, leaving them to field a makeshift roster of council members to hold meetings surrounding the magician community.

Currently, Olivier served as head of the council. After all, he was the heir to the seat of House Lumai; and it was like there was anyone else to oppose him. Sure, magicians within the palace grumbled their disapproval of the decision but no one dared to argue now.

Politics could wait. It was time to stick together now.

Sebastian took the chair between Ajax and Naidini. All eyes were on him as they waited for him to speak. He stood up again and cleared his throat awkwardly.

"I'm going after her."

Everyone shot him looks of confusion—everyone except Imogen.

The Ordinaire simply scoffed and rolled her hazel eyes.

"Not this again," she grumbled before burying her face into her arms on the table.

"Going after who?" Chieftain Naidini asked, her voice dragging.

"Makaela," Imogen answered for him, her tone full of annoyance. "Surprise, surprise."

Sebastian ignored her. He didn't have time for her snide comments.

Olivier shook his head. "No."

"No?"

"I cannot allow you to do that, Sebastian."

He narrowed his gaze at the man. With his hands gripping the edge of the table, he leaned forward. "I wasn't asking for permission."

"After what happened at Vashara, I can't in good conscience allow another reckless expedition—"

"I'm going alone," Sebastian clarified. "You don't have to worry about anyone else dying—"

"Here he goes again," Imogen mumbled from the left side of the table. She was sat in between Siren and Remy, who were both trying their best to stay awake. Ajax and Naidini were sat on Sebastian's side of the table.

Both didn't look to be in the mood to talk.

"You're not a one-man army, Seb," Siren said softly. Her blue eyes were full of disappointment as she gazed at him. "You can't just rush into things by yourself. We're a team."

Sebastian sighed. "Well, someone has to do something. We've been sitting around doing nothing for weeks while the Order grows stronger with every passing day."

"And what exactly would going after Makaela do?" Olivier lifted a speculative eyebrow at him.

"She'll help us defeat him."

"Oh yeah?" Imogen scoffed. "She sure did help back in Vashara. Oh, what would we have done without her."

Beside her, Siren shot her a warning glance. "Knock it off. If it wasn't for her, we would have never escaped Thorian."

Sebastian threw his hands up. "Exactly!"

Siren averted her gaze from him. "I still don't agree with your plan, though."

He scowled at her and folded his arms.

Imogen leaned back in her seat and yawned. "I'm just saying. We've been managing just fine without her."

"Just fine?" Sebastian scoffed. "Yeah, right."

Remy, who had been barely paying attention, groggily lifted his head from the table. "Immi has a point, y'know. Maybe we should focus on something else instead of hoping for Makaela to save us."

"Besides," Imogen started, "how do we even know she's on our side for good this time? She could be playing us. I mean, where did she go during the fight? Why didn't she stay and help us? If she was as powerful as you say she is, maybe she could've helped turn the tide."

Sebastian opened his mouth to reply but he couldn't find the words. He didn't have an answer for her.

Why did Makaela leave? Again. Why didn't she stay?

He had been asking himself those questions for days.

Shaking his head, he faced away from Imogen. "She's on our side. And she wants to help. I know she wants to help, she said so herself. She just couldn't...she said she had something important she needed to take care of."

"More important than helping us?" Imogen asked.

"She's the only one who can take on my father. We're going to need her if we want any shot of defeating my father and the Order. You have to trust me on this."

"Like we trusted you to go to Vashara?" Ajax cut his green eyes toward him.

The battlemage hadn't spoken during the whole meeting. In fact, Sebastian couldn't remember the last time he heard the ginger speak. Ever since they arrived back at the Eldenarian Palace, he had been occupying himself with training the Eldai and any new volunteers he found around the city.

Everyone fell silent as they looked at Sebastian.

He stood there, stunned.

Ajax was right. Vashara was his fault. Had it not been for him pushing to lead a rescue mission to the African city, none of this would have ever happened. Jorgen might have still been alive today to lead the Eldai had Sebastian just kept his mouth shut.

His fists clenched.

He thought back to Thania and the siege. So many people died during that attack. They died protecting him; they had traded their lives for his. Luka, Sirus. Countless others. Their blood was on his hands and he couldn't seem to wash the stains off.

Tears welled in his eyes. He angrily wiped them away.

Ajax was right. They all were, even if he didn't want to admit it.

He couldn't just keep jumping into things blindly without thinking of the consequences. That's how people got killed. And he didn't know what he would do if someone else died on his watch.

Still, they needed help in the oncoming battle. The small number of forces they had at the palace wasn't going to cut it. Makaela might have been their best shot at defending themselves against his father and the Order.

"We don't even know where she went," Remy added while spinning his vayrir—a golden joker playing card bestowed with illusion magic—on the table. "She could literally be anywhere—"

"Tibet."

"Huh?"

"She's in Tibet," Sebastian answered sharply. "She's training with House Vaya and Madame Alizeh."

Olivier arched an eyebrow. "House Vaya? No one has seen or heard anything from them in years. What makes you think she found them?"

"The mutt told me."

Imogen laughed. "And you believed him? He could've just lied to get you off his back."

Sebastian pressed his lips into a tight line. "There was nothing to lie about. He didn't exactly tell that's where she was. But from what he remembered about the portal Makaela use, I put two and two together. It makes sense that she would go to them. Not only is Madame Alizeh a powerful magician, but she's also the guardian of the last artifact my father has to collect. The prophecy likely sent her there to help protect it—"

Ajax slammed his heavy hand on the table. The noise echoed throughout the room, jolting everyone around him. Even Sebastian stiffened as he gave the battlemage a wide-eyed stare.

His eyes were bloodshot and sleep lines marred his rugged face. His orange buzzcut had grown out a bit and his beard was longer than usual.

He had seen better times.

"You're not going."

"Are you going to stop me?"

"You know I will."

The two men glared at each other fiercely.

Between them, Naidini rolled her eyes. "Listen, Sebastian," she began. "We know how much you want to go after Makaela. And you might even have a valid point in doing so. But we need you here. You're one of our most powerful casters and we would be much worse off without you."

Olivier nodded. "Chieftain Naidini is right. The Order is growing in numbers by the day, as you said. Sooner or later, they will stage an attack on the palace. It could be today or tomorrow or the day after. Whenever it may be, we have to be ready." He stood up from his seat and ran a hand through his brown locks. "Which is why we need to start recruiting."

Sebastian's face twisted in confusion. "Recruiting?"

"If we're going to stand any chance against your father and...whatever army he's obtained, we're going to need more magicians. The battle in Vashara took a lot of Eldai from us. Chieftain Naidini lost a lot of soldiers during the fight." Olivier pursed his lips. "We need more magicians."

"We also need Makae—"

"You are staying here!" he bellowed. Everyone froze as their eyes locked onto the enraged magician. His golden eyes were wide with fury as he focused on Sebastian. After taking a few deep breaths, he began speaking again. "Do I make myself clear?"

He opened his mouth to continue protesting but immediately decided against it.

Olivier repeated his question.

"Yes, sir."

A few weeks ago, he would've said to hell with it and snuck off to the portal. But what Siren said earlier had resonated with him. They were supposed to be a team. Plus, Olivier had a point. They did need more magicians. Perhaps if they were able to gain enough recruits, then Makaela wouldn't be needed.

He could only hope.

Sebastian slid down into his seat. He kept his arms folded and glared down at his boots. "Where are we even going to get these recruits from?"

"Ajax has already alerted House Brynjir," Olivier answered. "They're working on bringing battlemages here, but they've been dealing with constant werewolf attacks on Hodvekt and their surrounding villages."

Werewolves...

Sebastian sneered as Dorian's ugly mug surfaced in his face.

"What about House Aegeon?" he asked.

"They're still recovering from the siege," Siren replied. "But I've been assured that a few battalions should be sent over in the coming days."

"Alright, who else is there?"

No one said anything.

He thought for a moment. House Brynjir and House Aegeon were some of the only houses that were in a semi-stable condition. House Oseda was still reeling from the battle in their capital city. House Doragon was still allied with his father. And, even after ten years, no one knew how to get to the monasteries House Vaya called home.

There was no one left to call.

"Maybe we could pull some Eldai from Nyghtmir?" Remy suggested with a shrug.

Olivier shook his head. "If we leave the prison defenseless, Thorian will surely seek to break out some of the more powerful inmates out. We certainly can't have that. We're already outnumbered and outgunned as it is."

The boy groaned and dropped his head back to the table. His head shot back up. A grin had spread across his face. "Hey, I've got an idea. What if I just use some illusion magic to make them think I'm Thorian. Then I can just sneak into their camp and tell them the war is over." He pretended to dust his hands off as he reclined in his chair. "There. Problem solved. You can thank me later."

Sebastian rolled his eyes.

"Nice one," Imogen said flatly.

Remy thanked her sarcastically.

"Take this seriously, Remy," Olivier chided. His son issued a quiet apology before burying his face back into his arms. "We need serious ideas."

Imogen raised her hand. "I've got one."

Sebastian tilted his head at her. "You do?"

She couldn't possibly have an idea. It was only a few weeks ago that she learned she was half magician. Before that, she had no clue magic even existed. How could she know where to find magicians to join their side?

"What about Solairs? There's a lot of them around the world, right?"

Olivier nodded slowly. "Sure... But I'm not sure how useful the majority of them would in a fight. Solairs aren't exactly what I'd call 'skilled casters'. There's a reason why they don't live among Eldairs."

"Oh yeah? And what is that reason? Because it just seems like a whole bunch of classism to me,"

Sebastian snorted. "Look, you have no idea what you're talking about here. It's centuries of history and politics. Eldairs and Solairs have been separated for a reason. It is what it is."

"But what if it didn't have to be? What if we united all magicians—Eldair and Solair alike?"

He went quiet for a moment. In truth, it wasn't a terrible idea. While most Solair's couldn't hold a candle to an Eldair's power, some were decent casters. In rare cases, some could be considered to be exceptional magicians.

But it would never work.

Tensions were too tight between Solairs and those that made up the wider Eldenarian Council. They would never come to their aide—not without an incentive.

His eyes widened.

He wondered if his father had been recruiting them to join the Order. He would probably offer them power, money, and whatever else they desired if he won the war. If he were a Solair, he would gladly take that offer.

What could the council offer them for their lives?

"Look," Imogen began," it wouldn't hurt to try. If it doesn't work, it doesn't work." She looked to Olivier. "We need the recruits, right?"

He nodded begrudgingly.

Remy sent the girl a quizzical glance. "Why are you campaigning so hard for the Solairs?" He chuckled. "Never seen anyone fight so hard for them in my life."

She shrugged. Her cheeks reddened as she looked away. "We need the numbers."

"Fair enough."

Sebastian peered at her. He studied her expression, trying to uncover what was happening in the depths of her mind.

A lightbulb went off in his head.

He knew exactly why she was pushing so hard for this.

"Alright, everyone," Olivier said. He rose from his seat and ran a hand along his face. "We'll pick this back up tomorrow. For now, everyone get some rest. We all could do with some."

They all nodded.

Sebastian couldn't wait to sleep. He felt like he had been awake for days.

Perhaps that's because he had been awake for days.

As everyone filed out of the council room, Sebastian lingered behind them a bit. Once they all made it out of the massive building housing the other council departments, he grabbed Imogen's arm and pulled her behind a bush.

"What?" she hissed.

"When are you going to tell them?"

"Tell them what?"

"That you're half-magician."

"Do you have to say half? Can't you just say magician?"

He smirked. "Well, you're certainly not full. And I can't in good conscience call anyone related to an Archangel a magician."

Imogen placed her hands on her hips.

"Just saying."

She blew a strand of brown hair out of her face. "How exactly am I supposed to tell them? Who knows what they'll do once they find out my dad was an Archangel?"

Sebastian didn't have an answer for her. There was a chance Olivier would throw her in the dungeons with Dorian. While he was a kind and understanding man, all of that could have gone out the window at the mention of a magician hunter.

It might have been best to keep her lineage a secret. For now.

"We'll figure it out later," he told her. He looked around before he asked his next question. "You still been practicing?"

Nodding, she grinned. She held her hand out and performed the sequence for a spell. A swirl of wind spun in her palm before disappearing.

"What's that?"

"Dunno. Saw it in some book I found in the library."

Sebastian nodded skeptically. He wasn't sure if that was going to help her in a duel, but he supposed it was better than all the woodland magic she had been learning before. "Keep it up. I'll teach you some more battle magic whenever I can."

"Looking forward to it."

His cheeks warmed at her words. Coughing, he turned around.

"I'll, uh, see you in the morning."

Out the corner of his eye, he could see the frown on her face.

"Goodnight, Sebastian."

"Goodnight, Imogen."

With that, he disappeared down the cobblestone path that would eventually lead him to his bed.