Trinity of Magic

The pendulum swung left to right, marking the passage of time as hundreds of tiny gears drove the mechanism within the clock. Zeke’s gaze was fixed on it, though his mind was far away. Even so, his fingers tapped along with the rhythm as he waited for the elven delegation in the reception room.

They had come to see him.

He had often speculated on how the elves would react after their humiliation at the hands of the human powers. Even their supposed allies, the Alliance nations, had turned a cold shoulder to their plight.

It must have stung their pride.

For a race with such strength and history, to be ignored and sidelined was a heavy blow. Yet it hadn’t surprised Zeke.

The elves were powerful, yes—but their power was conditional. No one could touch them within their sacred forest, guarded by the World Tree. There, they thrived, fearing neither man nor beast.

But that safety carried a price. Isolation bred stagnation, and comfort dulled urgency. Once the pinnacle of magical might, the elves had traded hunger for ease.

Zeke still didn’t fully understand Augustus’s reasoning in unleashing an Exarch against a people who had been largely peaceful for centuries, but one truth was clear: the attack had revealed to the continent that the elves were no longer the unchallenged hegemons they had once been.

Augustus certainly didn’t fear them. So why should anyone else?

It was hard to argue against such logic. The elves had been humiliated both on the battlefield and in the political halls, and still, there had been no repercussions for the aggressor.

To many, the Matriarchy now looked like a toothless tiger, ripe to be toppled from its throne and plundered for all it was worth.

Was that Augustus’s true aim in Rukia? To prepare a staging ground against the elves? To strip them of their riches?

Zeke shook his head. Unlikely. No matter how powerless the elves might appear, pushing them too far would be a losing move. The moment they felt truly threatened, all hesitation about working with the Alliance would vanish.

And that was the last thing Augustus would want.

For all their flaws, the elves excelled at one thing above all others: Life Magic. The ultimate support magic, it was their bread and butter, with more than half their population born to it.

It was the main reason they fared so poorly in battle, yet also what made them invaluable as allies. The difference between an army supported by Life Magic and one without was like night and day—an advantage that simply could not be overstated.

Soldiers with Life Magic at their backs stayed healthy, fresh, and rested, often performing as if they were several times their actual number.

Even Zeke could not deny the special place Life Magic held in warfare. More than once, he had tried to recruit skilled Life Mages into his service, but every one of them had left when the Empire began issuing threats against him. At present, he didn’t have a single one in his employ.

That was likely why he sensed the approaching elven delegation before they even entered his Sphere of Awareness. The dense cluster of Life Magic was so potent that few in the third circle could have missed it.

The moment they crossed into his Sphere, his mind was already at work. Before they even stepped through the main gate, Zeke had a full report hovering before his eyes.

Akasha knew exactly how valuable information was at a time like this and had prepared it before he could even ask.

With a silent thanks to the Spirit, Zeke scanned the short dossiers on each member. There were four in total, none carrying the rank of an Exarch. Even so, he knew immediately who the most important among them was.

Lyriel.

Her name had reached his ears more than once. She had been one of the few to accompany Matriarch Goldleaf to the city and was something of a friend to Margret. From their conversations, Zeke knew Lady Goldleaf trusted her with weighty responsibilities.

The others were likely there only to bolster the delegation’s numbers and preserve appearances.

Zeke skimmed through everything he had on the young elf. Thanks to Margret’s reports, there was plenty to review, and he had only just finished when a delicate knock came at the door.

On cue, the reports vanished from his sight.

“Enter.”

The servant girl stepped inside first, followed by four women draped in ornate golden cloaks. Lyriel lingered at the back, almost as though hiding behind the others. The positioning did not seem strange, given that the three ahead of her were Archmages while Lyriel herself was only a Grandmage.

Zeke played the part of the gracious host, rising from his chair to greet them.

“Welcome, friends from the West. To have visitors from the esteemed World Tree brings honor to me and my house.”

He was laying it on a bit thick, but naturally, it served a purpose. The elves were in a precarious position, uncertain how they would be received in light of their perceived weakness.

All the more reason to reassure them that they still held respect here.

Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

And it worked like a charm. Though the three Archmages tried to hide it, to a practiced eye like his, the signs were obvious. Relaxed breathing. Chests puffed out. Spines straightened. Nothing escaped his spatial awareness.

Except for Lyriel.

The youngest of the elves didn’t react at all to his words. Either she saw through the charade, or she cared nothing for flattery. From her dossier, Zeke knew she was something of a free thinker, an oddity among elves.

And supposedly, frighteningly smart.

Most likely, she understood exactly what he was doing and why, which explained her lack of response.

Zeke smirked. If so, then she was indeed a strong choice for a negotiation. And that, in turn, confirmed his suspicion that this visit was exactly that: a negotiation.

Either way, it was time to test the waters.

“What can my humble house do for the mighty chosen of Yggdrasil?”

One of the three Archmages stepped forward. “We have come to extend a belated thanks for the grace you bestowed upon us during our last visit.”

Her presence was majestic, her beauty exceptional. She might have fooled most others, but Zeke already knew she was only a smokescreen. Even so, he chose to play along for now, if only to uncover the real purpose of this farce.

“That is kind of you,” he said. “And what sort of gratitude did you have in mind?”

“That…” The woman faltered, unprepared for his push. Her eyes went to Lyriel ever so slightly before she spoke. “Are our words not enough?”

So, that was how Lyriel wanted to play it? Guide the talks from the shadows while keeping herself out of sight? Not on his watch.

Zeke shook his head and stepped forward. Then another. With each pace, the delegation grew more tense. The sight of three Archmages bracing at his approach was almost laughable.

Yet once again, Lyriel remained calm. Likely, she thought he couldn’t afford to harm them, even if he wished to. The political consequences would ruin him.

What a naive thought.

His smile widened as he reached the delegation. The three Archmages shifted aside when they realized he wasn’t stopping. Careless—such movement left the last member exposed.

Lyriel stood before him, wide-eyed, suddenly face-to-face with a very tall human looming over her.

“I think… I would like to have this one as a concubine,” he said, his eyes locked on hers. “That should suffice to show your gratitude.”

Nobody spoke.

Three Archmages stood frozen, as if all sense had left them. Clearly, this situation was beyond their ability to handle. Not that it mattered—this little play wasn’t meant for them anyway.

Zeke raised his hand slowly, placing his index finger beneath Lyriel’s chin. He tilted her face upward, forcing her to meet his gaze.

“What do you think of that suggestion, Lyriel Silverleaf?”

“I don’t think—” the girl managed after a long moment.

Zeke was already shaking his head, turning away, and strolling back to his seat. “Too late. I’ve already lost interest.”

The sight that awaited him was almost comical. Three elven beauties, each with the strength of an Archmage, glanced back and forth between him and Lyriel. And then there was Lyriel herself—the one most confused of all, as if she had no idea what had just happened.

Just as he thought. For all her wit, this girl likely had very little experience leading a negotiation herself. As an advisor, she had enjoyed the luxury of watching from the sidelines, detached and untouchable. That privilege no longer existed now that she held the reins.

Zeke would make sure she learned the difference.

“This… is quite inappropriate,” the leading woman from earlier said once it became clear Lyriel was too flustered to respond. “We came here—”

Her words were cut short by a raised hand.

“I know you haven’t come to extend your gratitude,” Zeke said slowly, making her shrink back as the lie was exposed. “And I also know that Lady Goldleaf wouldn’t send one of her most trusted confidants for such an errand.”

His gaze returned to Lyriel, dismissing the other three elves as if they weren’t even there.

“I’ll ask again: What can my humble house do for the mighty chosen of Yggdrasil?”

The words were the same, but the meaning had shifted entirely. Now, no one would mistake them for respect. Instead, they dripped with mockery. How far the mighty chosen of Yggdrasil must have fallen, to come and beg for my humble aid.

Now, all that remained was to see what kind of woman Lyriel truly was.

Sink… or swim.

“We… I… have come to make you an offer,” she began, her words halting at first but growing steadier with each syllable, “One you will be unable to refuse.”

By the end, her voice carried a sharp edge. Not teasing—challenging. Good. This girl was learning quickly. Perhaps there was truth to her rumored intellect.

The corner of Zeke’s lips rose. “Those are the offers I like most. Tell me, what is it that you think I cannot refuse?”

Lyriel no longer tried to hide behind pretense. She must have realized she couldn’t outplay Zeke at games, so she played her strongest card instead.

“You are searching for Cassius?”

Zeke nodded. It was inevitable the elves would learn of this. After all, he had asked Margret to keep her ears open. It wasn’t much of a secret anyway.

“You want your sister to walk his path,” Lyriel pressed.

“I do.” There was no point denying it, especially if this talk was heading where he hoped.

Lyriel smiled, much of her confidence restored.

“That is what I offer you.”

Zeke remained silent for a while, weighing the possibilities.

“You have Cassius?” he asked at last. That would at least explain why he had been unable to find the man.

Lyriel shook her head. “Cassius Leafless is not someone who can be captured easily. It would likely take one of our Matriarchs to bring him in alive.”

“—And they wouldn’t leave the forest for such an errand, especially not now,” Zeke finished for her.

Lyriel didn’t even try to deny it. She simply nodded. “And even if we had him in custody, it is highly unlikely he would agree to teach your sister. Fortunately, that is not what we offer. We have… something even better.”

Zeke leaned forward despite himself. Something better? That was a bold claim. Still, he was open to being pleasantly surprised.

Lyriel’s lips curved, clearly savoring his anticipation.

“We have the mentor who trained Cassius—from his awakening until after he became an Archmage.”

Zeke’s eyes widened slightly. That was… indeed something. Instead of the student, they offered the teacher. Instead of the product, the factory.

Interesting.

“And this person is willing to teach my sister?”

“Most certainly.”

Zeke nodded slowly. “When can she be here?”

At that, Lyriel’s expression shifted. “That is not going to be possible, I’m afraid.”

“Why not?”

“This individual holds a… unique standing among our people. They cannot leave the Tree.”

A moment later, Zeke understood the implication. “You want Maya to move to Yggdrasil.”

Lyriel nodded. “That is our offer. Your sister will enjoy privileges few receive, even among our own. Lady Goldleaf will look after her as if she were her own blood. With such a patron, the opportunities before her would be endless.”

“…Even I never enjoyed such prospects,” she added softly.

Zeke was torn. The matter of his sister’s mentor had weighed heavily on his mind for some time. And while this wasn’t exactly what he had hoped for, it was still an extraordinary opportunity. Not only would Maya learn from the one who had guided Cassius, but she would also gain access to the privileges of the elven elite.

Zeke harbored no illusions about his place in the world. Even though his Mana Purifying device was a marvel, it likely paled beside what the Matriarchy could provide. His invention could accelerate the growth of a Core, yes—but for someone without his urgency, its usefulness was limited.

The elves, however, could offer much more. They could broaden Maya’s horizons in ways he could not, with access to knowledge, luxuries, and wealth that few in the world could rival.

Zeke’s expression darkened. It wasn’t indecision; it was his unwillingness to accept the choice his rational mind had already made.

This was, indeed, an offer he could not refuse.