Either I was growing accustomed to the pain, or the journey through portals wasn’t as unbearable as it had been before. Isla helped me to my feet, her grip firm yet steady. I owed her more than I could put into words. Without her, I’d still be lying in some ditch, gasping for air, my body broken and my spirit fading. She had literally carried me to safety, dragging my battered form to a village where I could recover. I guess I’d needed that—needed someone to pull me back from the edge after yet another betrayal. It seemed like this world was full of people who existed on one extreme or the other: either they’d stab you in the back without a second thought, or they’d risk everything to save you. Reconciling that fact still didn’t come easily. Trust was a fragile thing, and mine had been shattered one too many times.

  On the other hand, the entire purpose of this expedition had been to uphold the treaty between the elves and Malachor. But now, with Amra dead, the treaty felt like little more than a hollow promise. From what I could gather, Isla seemed to think it would be worse than useless—it could actually be dangerous. Others might see it as the foundation of some grand alliance, a threat to be crushed before it could take root. The thought made my stomach churn. We’d risked so much, and for what? A fragile peace that might now ignite a war.

  So maybe Isla and I were even. She’d saved my life, and I’d played my part in this doomed mission. But then again, I had so few friends left in this world. Better to hold onto the ones I had, even if the scales of debt and gratitude were impossible to balance. Trust might be fragile, but loneliness was far worse.

  We had emerged from the portal not far from the shack where I conducted my experiments. Home. The word echoed in my mind, though it didn’t quite settle in my chest. It still didn’t feel entirely like home, not after everything that had happened, but I had to admit—I’d missed it. There was a strange comfort in the familiar, even if it was tinged with unease. As we reached the main road into the city, I found myself oddly soothed by the sight of people going about their business, carefree and oblivious to the chaos I’d just left behind. It was a stark contrast to the tension and danger that had become my norm. But something felt off. The road into the city was busier than I remembered, crowded in a way that made my skin prickle. Had I just forgotten, or was something different?

  At Isla’s insistence, we headed to the embassy. She needed me to testify about what had happened, to give some kind of account that might make sense of the mess we’d left behind. Otherwise, I would have gone straight to find Alira. The thought of her tugged at me, a mix of worry and longing I couldn’t quite shake. But the streets were chaotic, packed with people and carts, making the journey to the palace a frustrating hassle. Even once we got past the guards, the tension in the air was palpable. People moved with a hurried urgency, their faces tight with worry. Something had happened—or was happening. The unease in my gut grew heavier with every step.

  The biggest surprise came when we reached the embassy. It was empty. Completely empty. Even if the other elves weren’t present, there should have been staff, some semblance of order. Instead, the few rooms the elves had occupied were bare, stripped of anything that might suggest they’d ever been there. It felt like a ghost town, a hollow shell that echoed with questions I couldn’t answer. My mind raced, trying to make sense of it. Had they been forced to leave? Had something gone wrong while we were gone? Or had they abandoned this place willingly? The silence was unnerving, and the weight of it pressed down on me.

  “Let’s go find someone—anyone,” I said to Isla, my voice sharper than I intended. This was beginning to feel too strange, too wrong. We’d only been gone a few months. What could have possibly happened in that time to leave the embassy deserted and the city on edge?

  But the truth was, I didn’t know where to start. The palace was vast, and I didn’t have many connections here. Isla was just as lost as I was, her usual confidence faltering in the face of this emptiness. The only person I could think of was Alira’s mother, but her villa was on the outskirts of town—too far for a quick answer. There was someone else, though, someone I knew in passing. I just hoped she remembered me.

  I was fortunate to find her in the office, diligently working. I didn’t even need her to look up; I recognized her instantly by her distinctive platinum-white hair.

  “Lyrelle... right?” I said, my voice tentative.

  She finally looked up from the scrolls scattered across her desk, her sharp eyes widening in surprise. “Tiberius?” she said, her tone a mix of disbelief and curiosity. Then her gaze shifted to Isla, and her brow furrowed. “Isla? What happened to your ears?”

  Isla raised her hand, showing Lyrelle the ring that masked her elven features. But I didn’t have the patience for small talk. “What’s happened here?” I asked, cutting straight to the point.

  Lyrelle leaned back in her chair, studying us for a moment. “Did you just get here?” she asked, and we nodded.

  She let out a long breath, as if bracing herself. “Then I’d better start from the beginning.”

  As she began to explain, my stomach sank. My mind raced ahead, trying to piece together what she might say, but nothing could have prepared me for the news about Alira. She’d gone on a mission of her own—one I hadn’t even known about. My heart clenched as Lyrelle explained that Alira hadn’t returned on the scheduled date, and no messages had come to explain her absence. She’d been declared missing in action.

  My pulse skyrocketed, a rush of panic surging through me. The whole point of her staying behind had been to keep her safe. I’d left her here so she wouldn’t be caught up in the chaos I was walking into. And now she was gone. Missing. I took a few deep breaths, trying to steady myself. Missing wasn’t the end of the world. Alira was resourceful, clever, and more than capable of handling herself—especially with her newfound abilities. She could be anywhere, doing anything.

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  “Can you tell me more about her mission?” I asked, forcing my voice to stay calm. “Maybe I can find some information, figure out where she might have gone.”

  Lyrelle looked even more shocked, as if she’d forgotten for a moment just how out of the loop we were. “Right, you just arrived,” she said, shaking her head. “Ascalon declared war on us last week. The army is mobilizing as we speak to meet the invading force. I wouldn’t advise going anywhere near the border.”

  “Well, I have to get to the front line,” I said, my voice firm despite my unease. “Maybe find a way across. I can’t just sit here in the city and do nothing while Alira’s out there.”

  Lyrelle looked at me with a mix of understanding and concern. “I can give you dispensation to join the mage corps,” she offered. “They need every hand they can get right now.”

  I nodded, though my intentions weren’t to fight in their battles. I just needed to avoid wasting time dodging patrols from both armies. Portals weren’t an option, not to places I hadn’t been before, and even familiar locations had to be crystal clear in my mind. That’s why I’d chosen the shed as my anchor point. I’d spent so much time there working on my chocolate project that I could picture every detail.

  But the border between Malacor and Ascalon? That was a different story. It had been over a year since I’d arrived in this world, and while I’d crossed that border with Alira, the memories had faded. I couldn’t recall the scenery well enough to open a portal there. And honestly, who paid attention to the landscape when Alira was by your side? My focus had been on her, not the terrain.

  “Fine,” I said, cutting through my thoughts. “Get me something so I can tag along with the army. I’ll figure out the rest later.”

  Lyrelle grabbed a piece of paper and began scribbling, her pen moving quickly. As she worked, Isla spoke up. “What about the elf delegation?” she asked, her tone sharp.

  She glanced up, her expression neutral. “You’ve been gone for a while. I don’t know if they considered you missing in action as well, but it seems they cut their losses and left,” she said matter-of-factly before returning to her task.

  Isla’s face darkened, her anger palpable. “I guess they aren’t huge fans of ‘leave no elf behind,’ huh?” I said, trying to lighten the mood.

  She shook her head, her voice bitter. “Amra and I weren’t exactly popular with the leadership. No one would’ve lost any sleep over us. They even sent Ena with Alira.”

  “Not popular either?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “Ena was very good at her job,” Isla replied, “but for a diplomat, she was terrible at playing the politics game back home.”

  It made sense, in a way. Dealing with other people’s nonsense all day, only to come home and face more of the same. No wonder so many people hated politics. You either entered it for power and money, or you had to have the patience of a saint to navigate the endless games if you wanted to accomplish anything remotely meaningful.

  “So, what are you going to do now?” I asked Isla, turning the conversation back to her.

  She hesitated, her anger giving way to uncertainty. “I don’t know,” she admitted.

  Lyrelle interjected, her tone practical. “Well, the mages are leaving with the army, so there’s no way to organize them to portal you out. Not with the chaos outside.”

  Isla almost smiled at that, a flicker of dark humor in her eyes. “Guess I’m stuck here,” she said, shrugging.

  I studied her for a moment, surprised by her calm. “I thought you’d be more upset,” I said.

  She met my gaze, her expression unreadable. “Maybe I’m just used to being disappointed.”

  “Well, if you’re looking for ideas, I could always use another partner in crime,” I offered.

  Isla shrugged, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “Why not?” she replied.

  Lyrelle looked up from her desk and sighed, clearly resigned to the chaos we were bringing her way. “Guess I’ll be making another document for you,” she said, reaching for a fresh piece of parchment.

  “Thank you,” I said, my tone sincere. “I know we don’t know each other that well, but this means a lot.”

  She paused, her pen hovering over the paper, and glanced up at me. “Alira is one of my best friends,” she said quietly. “And if half the things she told me about you are true, then you might actually find her.”

  Her words hit me harder than I expected. I hadn’t realized how much Alira had talked about me, and the thought of her being out there, missing and possibly in danger, made my chest tighten. Lyrelle finished scribbling on the scroll, then stood and handed us the papers.

  “These will give you free passage into the army camp,” she explained. “You can stay with the mage corps and sneak out when the time is right, or you can go find my boss. He can help if you run into any problems.”

  “Thanks again,” Isla said, her voice softer than usual.

  We said our goodbyes and headed toward the northern exit of the city. If the southern gate had seemed busy earlier, this was on another level entirely. The road was a chaotic mess—a traffic jam of supply wagons, soldiers on horseback, and a surprising number of refugees. The wagons were piled high with belongings, the kind of things you only took with you if you didn’t expect to return.

  ─── ????? ───

  The army camp was a sprawling, chaotic mess of tents, wagons, and soldiers milling about. The air was thick with the smell of smoke, sweat, and the faint tang of metal. We made our way through the throng, flashing the documents Lyrelle had given us to the guards at the entrance. They barely glanced at the papers before waving us through, their attention focused on the endless stream of people and supplies pouring into the camp.

  Finding the mage corps’ section of the camp was easier than I expected. A cluster of tents stood slightly apart from the rest, marked by banners embroidered with arcane symbols. The mages themselves were a mixed bunch—some were deep in conversation, others were practicing spells, and a few were arguing over maps and scrolls. We were greeted by a harried-looking officer who barely glanced at our papers before assigning us to a tent.

  “You’ll be moving out with the rest of the corps at dawn,” he said, his tone brisk. “Get some rest while you can.”

  The tent was cramped, with just enough space for two bedrolls and our packs. Isla and I exchanged a look but didn’t say much. There wasn’t much to say. We both knew what we were here for, and it wasn’t to fight in this war.

  The next morning, the camp was a flurry of activity long before the sun rose. Soldiers shouted orders, wagons creaked into formation, and the mages gathered their supplies. Isla and I fell in with the mage corps, doing our best to blend in. The march out of the camp was slow and tedious, the column stretching endlessly ahead of us.

  As we moved further from the city, the landscape began to change. The familiar fields and roads gave way to rougher terrain. Isla and I stayed close, biding our time and waiting for the right moment to slip away.