2. Dante
2
Dante
S houts rang out from vendors, each competing to hawk their enchanted wares, from trinkets glinting with false promise to charms humming with unstable magic. Lanterns suspended above cast a kaleidoscope of shifting light, painting the uneven cobblestones below in hues that danced with every flicker. As Dante slipped into the magical illegal market, the air around him buzzed with a palpable undercurrent of power.
His boots struck a steady rhythm as Dante moved deeper into the chaos, keeping his head down but his senses sharp. The stench of burnt incense and spilled potions mingled with the sharper tang of magic gone stale, a signature of too many spells cast in too tight a space.
ARC’s intel hadn’t offered much—just whispers of rogue mage activity and a vague lead that someone here might know more about the fires. It wasn’t exactly a roadmap, but Dante didn’t need one. The market’s energy was off tonight, taut, and restless, and that alone was enough to set his teeth on edge.
“Right,” he said under his breath, sidestepping a cloaked figure arguing with a vendor over the price of a supposedly unbreakable ward.
He paused at the edge of a stall draped in dark fabric, his gaze sweeping over its contents—rows of crystal vials glowing with unstable magic. The vendor, a hunched woman with sharp eyes, followed his glance, her mouth curling into a sly grin.
“Looking for something, sweetheart?” she asked as sweet as poisoned honey. “I’ve got everything from bottled blessings to curses in a jar.”
“Not today,” Dante said flatly, moving on before she could press further.
He caught sight of a cluster of people gathered near a central stall, their whispers growing louder.
A sharp hiss cut through the hushed murmurs. “Quiet down, you idiot, unless you want more trouble breathing down our necks,” a vendor snaps, casting a wary glance toward the market’s fringes. His words silenced the group, though their eyes darted uneasily toward the curtain shielding something from view.
Dante slowed his stride, feigning interest in a nearby display of glowing runes etched into shards of crystal. He angled closer, catching snippets of the hushed conversation.
“I’m telling you, I saw them,” one man whispered. “Same marks as the warehouse are on that stall that burned down…”
Another figure shifted, lowering their hood as they leaned in. “Then shut your mouth before you end up on their list.”
The tension in their words sent a flicker of unease down his spine. He edged closer, pretending to study a gaudy amulet dangling from a stall.
Before he could catch more, a sharp crack echoed through the alley, and the crowd jolted. His head snapped up, his gaze darting toward the source of the sound—a nearby stall wreathed in smoke, its vendor frantically waving their hands to dispel it.
The air around him buzzed with unease, the energy of the market shifting. Whatever was going on here, it was more than just illicit deals and half-baked spells.
His boots crunched over stray bits of glass and debris as he finally approached what he’d been sent to check out—the charred remains of a stall near the market’s edge. Heat still radiated from the blackened wood, the remnants of a fire that had burned hot and fast, leaving little more than ash and the bitter scent of scorched magic. He crouched, fingers grazing over the uneven surface, his jaw tightening at the familiar texture. This wasn’t ordinary fire.
Someone moved in his peripheral vision. Dante straightened, his hand already curling near his side, ready to summon a flame. The figure stepped out from the shadows of the ruined stall, their tailored suit an odd juxtaposition against the wreckage.
A man stood with casual precision, examining the remains as if studying a piece of art. Dark hair fell just enough to graze his sharp jawline, and when he glanced up, silver-gray eyes locked on him.
“You lost?” Dante asked as he took a step closer.
“Not at all,” the man replied. “Though I could ask you the same.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve got a reason to be here,” Dante shot back, folding his arms across his chest. His gaze swept the man quickly, noting the polished shoes and effortless confidence that screamed money. “You? Not so much.”
The man quirked an eyebrow, his expression unbothered. “Sebastian Blackthorn,” he said, extending a hand in a gesture that seemed more habit than genuine. When Dante didn’t move, the hand fell back to his side. “And you are?”
“Someone who doesn’t trust rich guys poking around burned-out stalls,” Dante said.
Sebastian’s lips twitched into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Charming. And here I thought I was being discreet.” His gaze flicked toward the scorched remains. “You certainly appear interested in the same thing I am.”
His shoulders stiffened. “And what’s that?”
Sebastian gave a small shrug as polished as his suit. “Unusual fires. Cryptic sigils. The kind of things that draw attention when they pop up not only in spots across Eryndia, but in the middle of its illegal market.”
His jaw tightened, his unease growing. “Why’re you here?”
Sebastian’s smirk deepened just enough to be infuriating. “Curiosity. And perhaps I enjoy solving puzzles.”
“Figures,” Dante scoffs. “How typical.”
Sebastian stepped closer, the sudden proximity forcing Dante to hold his ground.
His chest tightened, a flicker of something unbidden stirring beneath his irritation. A scent of something herbal—subtle but distinct—lingered in the air between them that he couldn’t quite place.
Sebastian’s amusement didn’t waver. “Believe what you like. Just don’t get in my way.”
His scowl deepened as Sebastian turned back to the stall, examining the charred remains with an ease that set his teeth on edge.
His fists clenched at his sides as Sebastian crouched near the scorched wood, his movements unhurried. The man had all the ease of someone who belonged anywhere he decided to stand, and it grated on Dante in a way he couldn’t quite explain.
“You’ve got a hell of a lot of confidence for someone who clearly has no idea what they’re dealing with,” Dante said, the words sharper than he intended. “This isn’t your playground, Blackthorn.”
Sebastian didn’t look up, his fingers brushing close to the singed surface without touching it. “A playground? And here I thought it was an illegal market. My mistake.”
Dante bristled, his frustration bubbling dangerously close to the surface. “You don’t get it, do you? People like you—” He waved a hand vaguely at Sebastian’s expensive suit and polished shoes. “—you don’t deal with the fallout. You don’t see what happens to the people caught in the crossfire of this kind of thing. You just see the excitement, the publicity, a puzzle to be solved but not all the real lives affected and hurt.”
Sebastian straightened, dusting nonexistent ash from his sleeve as he turned to face Dante fully. “You have a remarkable talent for jumping to conclusions.”
“At least I’m here, trying to do something,” Dante snaps. “To stop this.”
“Yes, something. Whether it’s effective, well, that’s another matter entirely.”
For a moment, the urge to retort boiled over. But Sebastian’s gaze—steady, unflinching, and more perceptive than Dante liked—held him in place. “What’s your deal? You say I jumped to conclusions. Then, why are you really here?”
Sebastian stepped closer. “Let’s just say I have a vested interest in seeing this through,” he said. “And before you ask, no, I don’t need your permission to be here.”
That same herbal scent from earlier brushed against his senses as Sebastian’s proximity made his irritation spike. “You’re a real piece of work, you know that?”
Sebastian’s smirk didn’t waver as he took another half-step closer, forcing Dante back. “Still avoiding the question,” he said.
“What question?” Dante snaps, heat flickering at his fingertips.
“Tell me your name.”
His glare sharpened. “Why do you care?”
“Let’s call it curiosity,” Sebastian said. He shifted closer, forcing Dante to take a step back until his shoulders brushed against the charred remains of the stall. “Because if you’re going to keep growling at me like that, I want know the name of the beast I need to tame.”
Dante blinked, his annoyance momentarily caught off guard. “Dante.”
Sebastian’s eyes glinted with something unreadable. “Dante,” he repeated, letting his name linger for just a moment. “Tell me something, Dante—do you always let your temper do the talking, or is this a special occasion?”
The way Sebastian said his name—precise, deliberate, and just teasing enough to make his pulse skip—threw him off balance. “I—” His words stumbled, his frustration tangled with something he didn’t want to name. “You don’t know anything about me.”
Sebastian tilted his head, like a predator sizing up his prey. “No,” he admitted. “But I’m starting to think I’d like to.”
His pulse spiked at that teasing edge, his retort forming just as the air around them shifted. A sudden, deafening crack split the air as a deafening fiery explosion tore through the market, sending a wave of heat cascading over them.
***
Dante spun toward the source of the blast, flames licking hungrily at the stalls and sending panicked shouts through the crowd. Vendors abandoned their goods, patrons scattered, and the narrow aisles of the illegal market devolved into chaos.
“Shit!” Fire was already sparking in his palms as he prepared to intervene.
“Subtle,” Sebastian said, stepping beside him, his gaze sharp as he surveyed the destruction. “I assume this wasn’t part of your plan?”
Dante shot him a glare, his amber eyes narrowing. “You think I planned this?” He pushed forward without waiting for an answer, his fire surging to redirect the blaze creeping toward a cluster of fleeing civilians.
“A pyromancer at the scene of a fire?”
Dante scowled. “As if I’m the only one in this city? Just get out of here before you get hurt. I’ll handle this.”
Sebastian didn’t move to leave. Instead, a breeze stirred around him, the air bending subtly as his magic took hold.
Dante glanced back, his irritation giving way to surprise as Sebastian lifted a hand, directing a controlled gust to clear a path through the smoke for a trapped vendor. The man stumbled through the gap, coughing but unharmed.
“Not bad,” Dante admitted grudgingly. His focus snapped back to the flames threatened to spread further.
Sebastian’s smirk returned as he stepped forward to join him. “I aim to impress.”
The fire wasn’t normal—Dante could feel the magic pulsing through it, wild and angry, feeding on the chaos. “This isn’t natural,” he said, his tone grim.
Sebastian pointed toward a sigil on the stall near the epicenter. “There—it must be the source of this spell.”
Dante followed his line of sight, spotting the charred remnants of a shattered table, the surrounding fire pulsing brighter, more alive. “Stay back,” he barked, surging toward it.
“Not a chance,” Sebastian said, following him.
His jaw tightened, but there wasn’t time to argue. The fire roared higher, and whatever was fueling it wasn’t going to go down easily.
As he approached the pulsing blaze, heat rolled over him, thick and suffocating, but he ignored it, focusing instead on the unnatural pulse at the fire’s core.
“Don’t make it worse,” Sebastian warned, stepping up beside him.
“I know what I’m doing,” Dante shot back, unleashing a precise burst of fire toward the core. His flames collided with the blaze, momentarily forcing it back, but the energy crackled in defiance, surging stronger.
“Clearly,” Sebastian said dryly, raising a hand. The air around them shifted, his wind magic pulling at the edges of the blaze. “Maybe if you stopped trying to fight fire with fire, we’d get somewhere.”
“Thanks for the tip,” Dante growled. “But fire fights fire all the time. Ever heard of a controlled burn?”
Sebastian shot him a sidelong glance, unimpressed. “And how’s that working out for you right now?”
Dante clenched his jaw, forcing another arc of fire into a precise stream to counter the blaze’s wild surge. “It’s a strategy. Just needs someone who knows what they’re doing.”
Sebastian’s lips twitched in amusement, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he moved closer to the blaze’s perimeter, his fingers flexing as he summoned another gust. The wind spiraled tightly, drawing smoke and heat upward and away from the nearby stalls.
Dante gritted his teeth, forcing his flames into a controlled arc. “Whatever’s fueling this is fighting back.”
Sebastian glanced over his shoulder, his brow furrowed. “It’s feeding on the oxygen—every time you attack it, you’re giving it more to work with.”
Dante hesitated, his frustration simmering beneath the surface. “Then what do we do?”
“Hold it steady,” Sebastian said, already moving into action. Without waiting for confirmation, he thrust both hands forward. The wind surged in response, forming a tight vortex around the fire’s core.
His flames danced at the edges of the vortex, steadying the chaotic blaze. Together, their magic forced the fire into submission, its intensity dimming as Sebastian’s wind stripped it of oxygen.
Sweat dripped down his temple as the strain of control built. “Any day now.”
“Almost there.” His vortex tightened further, choking off the fire’s energy until, with a final roar, it collapsed inward, leaving only smoldering ash in its wake.
For a moment, the two stood in silence, the sudden absence of flames jarring.
“Not bad,” Dante said, lowering his hands.
Sebastian straightened, brushing soot from his sleeves. “Sounds like high praise.”
Dante rolled his eyes, exhaustion catching up to him as the adrenaline faded. “Don’t let it go to your head.”
Sebastian’s smirk returned. “Too late.”
Dante glanced around the smoldering remnants of the market, the scent of ash heavy in the air. “We should call ARC,” he said. “They’ll want to know about this.”
Sebastian tilted his head, his smirk fading into a wry, unimpressed expression. “ARC, huh? I’d almost forgotten they were the go-to for magical crises.”
Dante frowned, crossing his arms. “They’ve stopped more than their share of disasters.”
“Stopped or contained?” Sebastian’s sharp gaze flicked to him, skepticism laced in every word. “Institutions like that are great at sweeping up the pieces, sure. But prevention? Not exactly their strong suit.”
Dante bristled, stepping forward. “That’s bullshit. ARC’s saved lives—thousands of them. Hell, if it weren’t for them, Vaeloria might’ve been overrun years ago.”
“Let me guess,” Sebastian said. “You’re their biggest fan? Got a little merch collection at home? Posters on the wall?”
His amber eyes flared with heat. “I’m just saying they do good. More than people like you. Too busy partying in your penthouses and mansions to give shit about anyone else.”
Sebastian didn’t reply, his gaze settling on his face. His smirk shifted, softening at the edges, turning into something that made his chest tighten.
Without warning, Sebastian reached out, his fingers brushing against a lock of his crimson hair. “Pretty,” he said.
Heat rushed to his face as he swatted Sebastian’s hand away. “What the—get away from me!”
Silver-gray eyes gleamed with amusement. “Relax. You’re fun to rile up, that’s all.”
“Asshole,” Dante growled, stepping back as if to regain control of the space—and himself.
“So, I’m told,” Sebastian said, turning on his heel. He cast a glance over his shoulder, his smirk sharpening into something downright mischievous. “See you around… cuteness.”
His jaw dropped, heat rushing to his face as the word sunk in.
But Sebastian was already walking away, disappearing into the haze of smoke and ash. Dante stood frozen, glaring toward where Sebastian had vanished.