Chapter 33 #5
“Even if this injury does not heal,” Tessarion was saying, when the pulse in his ears faded enough that Alwyn could make sense of it again.
“To leave the Order would be a waste. A talent seen perhaps once in a generation, and you would discard it as if it were nothing? Absolutely not. I have poured too much into your training to allow this. What else could you be but a High Sorcerer of the Order?”
The other Alwyn was silent for a moment. Gently, Krujha’s hold around his waist tightened. The words felt like a punch to his stomach, knocking the breath out of him. What else could he be?
“You’re right, Master. Of course,” the other Alwyn finally said, his voice small. “Please forgive my lapse in judgment. I will tell the king that I was in pain and not thinking clearly. Of course you’re right.”
“See that you do,” Tessarion said curtly, turning away. “And I will see you in my office first thing tomorrow morning.”
Before he could step away, though, the door swung open. Tessarion stepped back in obvious surprise as King Ruven appeared in the doorway. Two more doors opened—the servant’s door just below them, and one on the opposite balcony, as two royal guards appeared.
“That will not be necessary,” the king said coolly.
“King Ruven,” Tessarion said quickly. “Please pardon my rudeness, and my student’s—”
“Be silent,” King Ruven interrupted. Even from here, Alwyn could see Tessarion give a visible start of surprise. “I think we’ve all heard enough. Alwyn, Krujha, please join us.”
Krujha gave him one last squeeze before letting go and pushing the door open. Alwyn stepped out; Krujha had to duck his head and shuffle through sideways, but joined him on the balcony overlooking the room.
Tessarion had turned back to the figure on the couch, brows furrowed in confusion—but seeing them step out on the second floor above them, realization was dawning on his face.
His eyes flickered between Alwyn and Krujha, then he turned back to look at the figure, and the illusion fell away.
A girl stood in his place—Alwyn realized with a start that it was the arrogant, curly-haired girl he had seen the day before coming out of Tessarion’s office.
Her expression was entirely neutral as Tessarion stared down at her.
“Your majesty,” Tessarion said, turning to the king again. “Please, this is a misunderstanding.”
“A misunderstanding?” the king echoed. “Please, enlighten me. My understanding is that you gave a command without my knowledge or approval, not to capture Zesh, but to kill him. My understanding is that when presented with this, you did not deny doing so.”
“He did not deny it,” the girl agreed. Tessarion turned back to her with a visible frown.
“Ryla, be silent,” he said.
“You are in no position to be giving commands to anyone,” King Ruven said.
“Your actions have endangered your students and Aefraya as a whole needlessly, creating further strain on our union with the orc kingdom and staining my rule with distrust. I am removing you from the position of Mage Princeps, effective immediately, as you are accused of insubordination and sedition. Guards, seize him.”
Alwyn half expected Tessarion to attack the guards who stepped forward.
They moved through a familiar form, their magic surging through the air to pin Tessarion in place.
He knew Tessarion was more than capable of breaking through the magical hold—his own magical prowess was among the highest of anyone in the Library—but even he seemed to realize how futile it would be to fight against the king himself, and he remained where he was held.
His head swung up to stare at Alwyn again. Once, he might have shuddered in fear at the obvious anger on his mentor’s face; but he felt Krujha just beside him, strong and warm, and the fear he expected never came.
“All that I’ve given you, Alwyn,” Tessarion hissed through gritted teeth. “And this is how you repay me?”
“All that you’ve given me?” Alwyn repeated, stepping closer to the balcony.
He could feel every eye land on him, but all he could focus on now was Tessarion.
“I never asked for any of this. I was never given a choice. I was a child. I trusted you, and you manipulated me. What else could I be but a High Sorcerer of the Order? I can be anything I want. I can make my own purpose. I can be more than what you made me.”
His voice nearly broke, and he sucked in a sharp breath, painfully aware of all the attention now on him. If Tessarion had any answer for him, it never came, as King Ruven was the next to speak.
“Those who serve Aefraya should only do so because they are willing. Such a decision cannot be forced,” he said in a low voice. “We will have much to discuss, Tessarion, as I suspect there has been more happening within the Order which you have conveniently hidden from me. Take him.”
Tessarion didn’t struggle as the guards led him away.
Alwyn watched them go, realizing the rest of the party had clustered behind King Ruven to witness the whole scene play out.
He could see Galred, watching with obvious disbelief, and Fionia, with one hand covering her mouth in shock, as Tessarion was led out of the room and deeper into the castle.
Alwyn turned away, stepping back into the passageway to hide the emotion he could no longer keep off his face. When Krujha followed him into the narrow space, he managed a watery smile up at the orc, whose golden eyes were shining with worry in the dim light.
“We did it,” he whispered, and Krujha’s face split with a soft smile.
“You did it,” he agreed, leaning down to press a kiss to Alwyn’s forehead. “The hardest part is over. And now you’re free.”
“I’m free,” Alwyn echoed faintly. It didn’t quite feel real. “I’m free.”