*** Lionbright Estate - Underground
"I can’t believe the headmaster actually trusted that stupid plan of yours."
Lillian sighed. She had been assigned to escort downstairs, to where Jayden was being kept. Apparently, she was the only one Jayden felt comfortable talking to, which was the only reason Marcellus had learned most of the Church’s layout for the ritual in the first place.
"Guess he’s really enamored with you, huh?"
"Well, they don’t call the flower for nothing."
"Cheeky."
The stairwell descended into dimr light, torches flickering in iron sconces along the damp stone walls. Lillian’s heels clicked against the steps, each sound echoing back up toward the estate above.
"How is he holding up?" I asked.
"Better than I expected." Lillian’s voice softened, just slightly. "Scared, confused, and definitely grateful we haven’t killed him yet. The usual, for soone who was supposed to be a living sacrifice."
"And the church hasn’t tried to retrieve him?"
"They’ve tried." She glanced back at . "Three tis. Marcellus’s guards are better than they look."
The stairwell opened into a wide corridor, lined with cells that had clearly been repurposed from so older function. Wine storage, maybe, or a dungeon from when the Lionbrights had been less concerned with appearances.
Most of the cells were empty, their doors standing open, revealing nothing but dust and shadows.
The last cell was different.
Its door was solid steel, reinforced with runes that glowed faintly in the torchlight. A small window, barred and barely wide enough to see through, was the only opening. Lillian stopped before it and rapped her knuckles against the fra.
"Jayden. You have a visitor."
A mont of silence. Then footsteps, slow and hesitant, approaching from the other side of the door.
A face appeared in the window.
Younger than I’d expected. Maybe twenty, with dark hair that hadn’t been cut in weeks and eyes that had seen too much too quickly. He looked at Lillian first, his expression softening with visible relief, then at .
His relief curdled into wariness.
"Who’s that?"
"An ally," Lillian said. "He’s going to help keep you safe."
"So we’re going with the bait plan?" He asked.
And I looked at Lillian for an explanation.
"Well... you aren’t the first one to suggest Jayden being bait..." Lillian awkwardly smiled.
"Let guess. Marcellus?"
"He’s been suggesting it since we found him," Lillian admitted, glancing through the window at Jayden’s wary face. "Although we advised him not to be too rash, that’s until you ca and suddenly turned it into the actual plan."
"And Jayden agreed?"
"He agreed because the alternative was sitting in this cell while the church finds him anyway." Lillian’s voice dropped lower. "At least this way, he has so control. So say in how things end."
Jayden’s fingers curled around the bars of the window, knuckles white. His dark eyes darted between us, catching fragnts of conversation, piecing together a future he hadn’t asked for.
"You’re the one they call Cael," he said. Not a question. "The dark mage with a penchant for obsession."
"That’s an understatent, I love my obsession."
"Well, at least you have an interesting personality. Let her in, Lillian."
Lillian produced a key from sowhere within her coat, an old iron thing, heavy and ornate, nothing like the sleek magical implents the nobility preferred. It turned in the lock with a grating click, and the reinforced door swung open on silent hinges.
Jayden stepped back from the window, retreating into the shadows of his cell. He moved like a caged animal, all coiled tension and barely suppressed fear, but there was sothing else beneath it. Sothing harder. Survival, maybe. Or the first spark of anger.
I stepped inside.
The cell was small but not cruel. A cot against one wall, clean sheets. A table with a pitcher of water and an untouched plate of bread. A chamber pot in the corner that had been recently emptied.
Marcellus might have been keeping him prisoner, but he wasn’t being needlessly cruel about it.
"You’ve been treating him well," I observed.
"He’s not a criminal," Lillian said from the doorway. "He’s a victim. We don’t punish victims."
Jayden’s eyes flickered to her, sothing complicated crossing his face. Gratitude, maybe. Or the embarrassnt of being seen as helpless.
"They’ve been... decent," he admitted, his voice rough from disuse. "Better than the church, anyway."
"That’s a low bar."
He almost smiled. Almost.
Lillian stayed by the door, her arms crossed, her presence a silent reminder that this wasn’t a social call. I moved to the cot and sat down, making myself comfortable in a way that seed to unnerve Jayden more than any threat could.
"Sit," I said, gesturing to the opposite end of the cot.
He didn’t move.
"Sit, Jayden. We need to talk, and I’d rather not do it while you’re hovering like a startled bird."
His jaw tightened, but he sat. Perched on the edge of the cot like he was ready to spring up at any mont, but sitting.
"Marcellus told through the intercom connected here on what you’re planning," he said. "Using as bait. Drawing the church out. Letting them see in public so they’ll co running."
"That’s the broad strokes, yes."
"And what happens to when they co running?"
I studied him for a mont. The dark circles under his eyes. The way his hands trembled slightly, even when he tried to keep them still.
He wouldn’t be much use in a fight in his current state, but he definitely isn’t a terrible fighter. I could tell that much.
"We fight, kill a few hundred, and hopefully the others get the job done before we have to do anything else."
I stood and placed a hand on Jayden’s shoulder. A wave of warmth spread through the cell, sudden and intense enough that Lillian’s eyes went wide.
[Darkfire Recovery]
Flas erupted across Jayden’s body, not consuming, but cleansing. Lillian reacted on instinct, ice crystallizing in the air around her hand, ready to strike.
"Stop!" Jayden’s voice rang out, clearer and stronger than before. "He’s healing !"
The flas subsided. Jayden sat there, transford, his skin fresh, his eyes bright, his entire bearing renewed as if he’d just woken from a month of perfect rest. The dark circles under his eyes had vanished. The tremor in his hands was gone.
Holy flas blended with the tabolic acceleration of dark magic.
The perfect healing magic.
Almost made forget about the lost of my profaned attunent.
Almost...
Lillian stared, her conjured ice dissolving into mist. "Since when does dark attunent have that kind of healing magic?"
"Since I figured it out."
"If I weren’t already tied down with Julius..." She shook her head, a disbelieving smile tugging at her lips. "I might have knelt at your feet after that."
I shot her a look. "Good thing you didn’t. I’d rather not have Evelina kill out of jealousy."
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