Chapter 17 Sylas #3
He slapped his knees to some sort of improvised melody.
“So, today’s lesson will have real-world application.
Inter-Realm Crisis Treaty Simulation. You’ll work solo, because I want to see as many perspectives as possible.
And I want to see how you all think, where you’re at, what I’m going to be working with here for the next year. You get to pick from two scenarios.”
He flicked his fingers and with a spark of beige magic, a screen materialized stretching from the floor right up to the ceiling.
“First option,” he said, with another hand flourish.
“Realm Border Reformation Dispute. After the war in the Dracoryn Realm, many dragons who’d suffered under House Titanus’ control left the Realm.
Tension Point: The Guardian Movement's Inter-Realm Relations Division pushes for formal treaties; House Vortimer wants temporary magical sovereignty; Unity Council demands transparency. Meanwhile, the Shifter Stabilization Unit is working to realign existing shifter settlements and resources to accommodate displaced dragons. Deliverables: Draft a treaty between the Guardian Movement, House Vortimer, and the Unity Council. This treaty must include at the very least: territorial boundaries and control agreements, expatriate rights and magical status, transitioning from short-term damage control to long-term sustainability.”
He brought up another screen. “Second option. Dark Fae Sovereignty vs. Magical Ethics Crisis. The Dark Fae Realm continues to permit the use of violating and identity-altering magic—spells capable of unmaking, rewiring, or suppressing an individual’s core essence.
While the Guardian Movement has flagged this practice as a critical threat to inter-realm stability and individual rights, it cannot lawfully intervene without violating Dark Fae sovereignty.
The Unity Council is pushing for diplomatic pressure and public declarations of magical ethics, while the Dark Fae Realm refuses external regulation.
Tension Point: How do you protect vulnerable beings in this realm while respecting borders and tradition?
Is there a path to establishing minimum ethical standards across all realms?
The Unity Council wants to institute a cross-realm Magical Ethics Accord to ban or restrict such magic from crossing realm boundaries.
The Dark Fae Realm claims any outside interference is a breach of culture and magical tradition.
Deliverables: Draft a treaty between the Dark Fae Realm, Unity Council, and the Guardian Movement.
This must include an agreement on whether—and how—these magics are restricted or disclosed outside the Dark Fae Realm, possible paths for reform without violating magical culture, and the establishment of a cross-realm ethics council, or rejection thereof, with justification. ”
He snapped his fingers. “Begin. Should you require guidance, let me know. I am here to support you. We will work on these treaties for the few weeks, then dissect each one.”
Not a bad assignment.
A lot of work, sure, but I’d never minded that.
Not if the goal was worth it.
But if this professor thought I’d merely work within the framework of the current status quo, he had another thing coming.
If there was one thing I’d learned from my fucked-up life over the years, playing by the rules was rarely an effective way in which to achieve any lofty goal.
If there wasn’t a clear way through, you needed to fucking well make one—barriers be damned.
I headed through my little house toward the bedroom.
I needed an extra boost of my serum to be able to pull off what I’d arranged tonight.
But before I could make it to the threshold, a sharp rap sounded on the front door.
He was early.
Of course he was.
It wasn’t impetuousness, it was eagerness.
Having me on board with what he wanted done was a hell of a thing for him.
Fuck. With him being a vampire-sorcerer hybrid, I couldn’t grab my extra serum now, let alone actually inject it. He’d hear every movement. It would risk word getting out about my sickness—my weakness.
I’d be fine. The extra shot was just a backup, really.
I crossed to the front door, waving my hand glowing with my magic briefly to drop the ward, and then I threw open the door to see him on my doorstep, standing rigid and regally with his hands linked behind his back.
Charles Petrone.
Vampire-sorcerer hybrid.
He was a nice guy, all in all.
And he had his ear to the ground.
However, he was also very aware that knowledge was power.
And that certainly didn’t come free from him, hence what I needed to do tonight.
Of course, I always took my payment up front.
Not that I would skip out on fulfilling my end of the deal.
That sort of response was reserved for low lives.
But he was also a high-value asset, not somebody you wanted to screw over.
He would most certainly continue to be useful down the line, so maintaining a strong professional relationship was beneficial to me.
He appeared to be in his forties in human years, but his true age was three hundred and sixty-five. His timeless, chiseled features reflected his original upbringing rooted in aristocratic legacy. His eyes were a deep crimson, intelligent and always carefully assessing.
He wore a fitted gray suit with a black button-down beneath, tailored to perfection.
A single gold medallion hung around his neck that glowed faintly with aquamarine magic—a gift from his sorcerer wife and a way for him to carry her with him always, the two of them happily married for two centuries now.
His dark brown hair was a classic side-swept undercut, almost modern.
He held out his hand immediately, and we shook.
“It’s a pleasure, Sylas.”
“Good to see you again, Charlie.”
“I’d worried that wouldn’t be possible for at least a year, given your current circumstances of being imprisoned at a college that is miles below your capabilities and knowledge base.”
“Well, you’re well aware that I have my ways of circumventing what seems impossible on the surface.”
He chuckled. “Indeed. You have proven that several times over.” That levity dissipated as he told me, “It’s unfortunate that the Guardian Movement cannot see the necessity of your vigilante efforts.
Soon. Change, especially of significant magnitude, takes time, and those like you who are willing and courageous enough to challenge the status quo and, unfortunately, often suffer for it in the process. ”
“Let’s hope things tilt the way we both intend.”
“Hope has nothing to do with that. It’s not like you to be so modest.”
“Well, I’m working on being less of an arrogant prick.”
“You care for these two personal interests of yours a great deal then if you’re willing to alter that.” He grinned. “Or anything about yourself.”
“I like to think of it not as altering but evolving appropriately.”
“I see. Very well.” He gestured outside. “Are you ready?”
“I’m ready the moment you provide your end of the deal.”
His lips quirked. He did enjoy my no-nonsense attitude. He was all about efficiency.
With a snap of his fingers and a brief spark of his orange magic, an envelope materialized, and he handed it over.
I took it and opened it quickly, pulling out the thick document within.
Photos, recorded sightings, conversations with sources—an in-depth investigation.
He’d really gone all out.
It didn’t take me long as I sped through the document—with a little concealed use of my magic to assist with intaking a mass amount of information and processing it within a very short timeframe—to register the conclusion.
What I’d fucking worried about had just been proven from this intel.
By cold, hard facts.
Motherfucker.
I looked out at him, his grave expression mirroring mine.
He was clearly also registering the rush of adrenaline that had surged through me as the awful conclusion had hit me.
“Those despicable, demented fuckers have risen, like I’d suspected.”
“There are rising. And they wish to punctuate their official return with this planned horrific act I’ve detailed in those pages.
” He shifted his weight. “He is a born hybrid, Sylas. He’s instrumental with Crossborn.
His mother is an infamous Alpha. He’s somehow naturally inherited his father’s Ancient power levels despite being so young—it’s unheard of, evolutionary, in fact.
He’s a prime target for them, and should they achieve what they wish where he’s concerned, it will make a powerful statement.
And it will strike terror across the supernatural world to all hybrids and the command structures alike. ”
Yes, I was aware of the far-reaching implications.
And normally that would be what I’d focus on.
But not now.
Not when it came to how I now felt, how he’d pulled me in.
His wellbeing and that of Velra, somebody who would be directly impacted by this also, surpassed all the rest.
“I was able to trace where the command instituted from regarding this protection that has been assigned to him. It’s being filtered through his mother, but these vampires do not work for her. They are on loan, shall we say.”
“On loan? From clans she’s worked with in the past? Those who owe her favors?”
He shook his head. “The Shadowed.”
“The vampiric underworld,” I breathed.
“This protection order comes from the Commander himself. The one known only—even to someone like me with my extensive resources—as Remnant.”
“And this is as deep as you can go?”
“You know it is. It took a great deal in order to get this much.” He smiled sadly. “I’m sorry, Sylas.”
I sucked in a breath, then hid the document away with a spark of my magic. “I’ll take it the rest of the way. This is a good start.”
“On to Clan Thalbraxus, then?”
“Yes, it’s my turn to pay up. Any change to the specs you already ran by me?”