Aren’s stomach finally stopped its rebellion, leaving him feeling slightly shaky. Crouching down, he shook his head as if to jolt coherent thoughts back into place. It was the first time he had ever felt like this. He had learned the detoxifying spell before he was old enough to drink. A soft hand touched his back as he considered whether to stand or continue emptying his insides.

  “Are you okay?” the honey-skinned woman asked him. Concern radiated from her eyes without any judgment for the smell that must have reached her.

  “Luminous One!” the remaining guard called out. “Please don’t touch a mage with your hands!”

  “Oh, be quiet, Donnavan,” she said. “He saved both of our lives.”

  Aren closed his eyes and regained a semblance of focus. He moved his wand, and with a quick spell, the poison that had felt so pleasant before left his body. He promised himself never to drink when he didn’t have magic at hand. The girl jumped back in surprise as he formed the circles with his mana, and the guard raised his blade.

  Aren gathered himself, his brow furrowed in disgust as his own smell reached his nose. He cast another spell to get rid of the mess he had made and refreshed himself. Looking and feeling better, he turned to the two of them, his black band still pulsing in alarm. He pointed his wand at the middle-aged man.

  “What are you doing!?” the guard demanded.

  Aren didn’t answer and instead completed his spell. A string of mana entered the man’s wound and cleansed it of any remaining poison-attuned life force. He wasn’t a good healer, but neutralizing all kinds of unmundane effects, that he could do.

  The warrior looked with confusion at his leg and did not realize that Aren had floated upwards. Aren figured out had seen and done enough. Just as their late helpers arrived, his band clattered to the ground as he simply purged any energies it held and broke the lock. He didn’t look back and prepared to speed away.

  “Sir mage, please wait!” the girl shouted.

  Aren ignored her. The girl was clearly someone important, and he did not want to get mixed up in any more troubles. It was high time for him to return to the academy, embrace his new function, and work on achieving his goals. Staying here could only cause more issues for him, and he was done playing adventurer.

  “Archmage, stop!” an authoritative voice called to him.

  Aren stopped in his tracks. He turned around in confusion and surprise at his title. He saw the female exemplar who had guided him to the city. Still, he didn’t come down and floated in the air. Now that his title was known, there was no way for him to avoid this becoming a diplomatic issue. He considered deleting all of their memories of him but didn’t know how strong the religious warrior was and didn’t want to be forced to kill her if it didn’t work.

  “I think you are confused. I’m no archmage,” he lied after a moment of silence.

  “And I’m a mirage fairy,” she countered. “I saw your ring and did my digging. We may not use magic, but we still have our ways of communication. Archmage Aren Maloryn, I have a proposition for you.”

  Aren sighed loudly. Then he prepared his wand. It seemed there was no way but to try and erase everyone's memories. Just as he readied his mana, a golden pillar of light engulfed the exemplar. It stopped Aren in his tracks long enough for her to continue speaking.

  “We have three choices here,” she said. “We fight, and I won’t make it easy for you.”

  Aren scoffed. If that was the peak of her power, he knew he could defeat her, although probably not without some collateral damage.

  “Two. You escape without doing whatever mind fuckery your kind loves to do, and I tell everyone who I know would be very happy to raise the issue on a national level. I’m sure you know there are enough people in our country who would love to start hell for you once I tell them the newest Archmage tried to assassinate the Luminous One,” she said.

  “That could start a war!” Aren said, outraged.

  “Exemplar Marie, you will not lie about this!” the woman he saved stated. The two women stared at each other, but from the look in their Luminous One’s eyes, it was clear she would not give ground.

  The exemplar clicked her tongue. “Fine.” Then she spoke to Aren again. “But you tried to hide your identity before. I’m sure you don’t want the trouble that a national incident could bring you. An archmage going around in our cities and casting magic is a serious breach of the treaty.”

  Aren sighed. That was true enough. “And the third?”

  “You hear me out and do a favor for me,” the exemplar said.

  Aren thought about it for a second and finally came down to the ground, maintaining a safe distance from the shining warrior as he enhanced his speed and perception in case of a confrontation. The exemplar was now dressed in armor made of white metal, with a symbol of a golden sun at the front and a golden cloth flowing from underneath. Her green cape, worn over both shoulders, was now emblazoned with the symbol of a crowned sun. The braided half of her hair was now tied with a pearly cloth, and her bald side was adorned with three golden chains.

  “How can I be sure none of the people here will inform anyone anyway?” Aren asked, meeting the woman’s eyes as they stood at the same height.

  “All the people here are my trusted companions and will heed my words. If I tell them to stay silent about this incident for the rest of their lives, they will,” she said with certainty. “The two northerners are yours to worry about.”

  Aren looked at the two members of the Borim tribe. Bar’tik didn’t look bothered by the information but watched the gourds around him with unease. Meanwhile, Mar’tei’s face told a story of emotional whirlwind that could not be described with words.

  Turning his head to the exemplar, Aren answered, “Fine, I will hear you out. But option one is still on the table.”

  A predatory smile crossed the woman’s face, but she composed herself and stomped her foot. “Attention!”

  All the guards, together with the middle-aged man he had saved, formed a line, him standing at the front. Lan and Wes also found themselves standing straighter.

  “We hear and follow, Exemplar!”

  “Good. None of you speak about this to anyone,” she said. “Now escort our five guests to the temple’s guest wing. Treat them with the courtesy of Turquoise Station. They are the heroes tonight.”

  Aren knew he could be heading into a trap, and he no longer felt like holding back with his magic. He pulled out artifacts from his storage one after another. He was already wearing his armor and mantle, so four emergency defense rings went on his fingers first. He tied an emergency short-range teleport necklace, and his sympathetic defense sword was attached to the inside of his mantle, the same one he had used during his last spar with Leilara. On top of that, he pulled out multiple shining crystals, each stored with different spells, and hid them inside his pockets.

  He finished with an azure metallic circlet, a prismatic gem in its center, placing it around his temples. A cool feeling enveloped him as he perceived a light in everyone around him. Looking at the exemplar, he now saw the raging inferno of holy power in her chest. She was strong and could have been dangerous back when she first found him. Now she would be trouble, but not a real danger.

  The guards watched him warily but didn’t do or say anything, heeding their exemplar’s words. He took a second to consider each of them, but only the middle-aged man was of any note.

  Mar’tei shuffled next to him, opened her mouth, then closed it. The process repeated a few times as they continued their walk. Aren was grateful it was night, since that thankfully left the streets empty of gawkers for their passage.

  “Venerable Arch…” Mar’tei started, but before she could finish, Aren wove a silencing spell around her. The woman’s eyes widened in surprise that she could no longer hear herself.

  “Just call me Professor if you must,” he said, dispelling his spell. He may have overreacted. There was no one beyond the guards. Still, he felt the need to be cautious.

  She nodded, still a bit surprised. “Professor… what is going to happen to us?”

  “You should be fine,” Aren said. “You didn’t break any laws and actually helped.”

  “Well, their Luminous One seemed like a good person,” Mar’tei reassured herself.

  Aren’s gaze drifted to the woman walking next to the exemplar. Her chestnut hair swayed with each step, and she held her back straight despite having come so close to death. Aren wondered whether she was naive or simply brave.

  “That was quite a showing, Aren,” the tall berserker said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Even before you used that shield, you showed prowess with just that barrier thing. You have a great sense for battle!”

  Mar’tei watched in horror, but Aren only shrugged, his mind occupied with his situation and wondering what the exemplar wanted from him.

  Lan walked over, barely containing his excitement. “You heard! The Holy Exemplar called us heroes!”

  “It was the three of us who fought. You just ran around a bit,” Wes teased his brother.

  “I got there as fast as I could,” Lan protested. “I ran straight for the Governor’s garrison at full speed and used half my life force! I met the Honored Exemplar just before I reached the place… it seemed they already knew about the assassination attempt.”

  Aren found that interesting and stored the information. The walk toward the temple took them at least half an hour, and more guards wearing the same insignia of the sun joined them along the way. The temple was the tallest building in the city, stretching toward the sky. Even during the night, it was brightly lit with torches. The structure was made of pure white sandstone, its shape consisting of stacked rectangles, each one taller than the last.

  “Mage Aren, please follow me. We will have our discussion,” the exemplar said. “Donnavan, please escort our Luminous One to her quarters and the four adventurers to the guest rooms.”

  The older soldier nodded, but the young woman spoke before leaving. “Don’t you dare bully Mister Aren. Remember, he saved me!”

  The exemplar grunted something noncommittal and walked toward the main entrance of the temple. Aren followed behind the woman, and his four impromptu acquaintances watched him go. He decided to ignore their stares and focus on figuring out the fastest way to get out of this mess without repercussions.

  Entering the temple, he squinted as his eyes adjusted to the bright light. His still enhanced senses sped up the process. The interior of the temple was brightly lit by an orb of light that resembled a sun and even simulated solar flares. He could acknowledge that the sun’s church had always been ahead in its understanding of their favored celestial body.

  The hall was made of the same white sandstone but was otherwise a simple affair, with a few carpets decorating the floor and cushions stacked for worshipers to use as they wished. Even now, there were a few priests immersed in night prayer.

  Aren was quickly led through the hall to a side corridor and taken up three flights of stairs. Faint steps echoed through the otherwise empty sandstone halls as the two of them walked to a stone doorway. The doors were made of heavy slabs that Aren was certain he wouldn't be able to budge with only his physical strength.

  The exemplar placed both hands on the door and pushed it open, her muscles tensing with exertion. Aren had to step inside quickly behind her as the doors began to close on their own the moment she let go. The room, like the rest of the temple, was simply decorated. A carpet with a few cushions to sit on, a single bed covered in colorful cloth, and wall shelves filled to the brim with scrolls surrounded a single writing desk.

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  “Welcome to my temporary humble abode.” She sat down on the carpet and pulled out cups and a bottle from beneath the bed.

  “Is this room secure?” he asked.

  “No one would dare to spy here.” Opening the bottle, she poured clear water into both cups. “Sit down.”

  Aren did so but refused the offered cup. “I think I drank enough today.”

  “I am not offering you alcohol,” she blurted out a bit too fast. Aren wondered what that was about, but she continued. “This is just water from the Sun’s Peak. It is refreshing.”

  Aren accepted the cup but only drank once she emptied hers. His eyes widened slightly as he felt the water was more than just refreshing. He felt the mana he had spent in the fight recover far more quickly. This was why, although worship was not for him, he did not dare to dismiss its powers. He wished for a chance to study how much of the water’s effect was natural and how much was imbued with holy power.

  “So, what is your offer?” Aren asked, trying to move things along.

  “Considering you are an Archmage for just a day, answer me this.” Her eyes shone with a golden light, and Aren’s circlet let him discern a truth telling effect. “What do you know about the task of the Luminous One?”

  After a moment of study he knew he could trick the effect now that he was prepared, but he did not bother. “Nothing.”

  “Good. I was quite certain anyway, but this assures me you are not here because of it.” She let out a sigh of relief. “I do not understand the Sun’s Will at times, but I cannot consider it a coincidence that you appeared in such ridiculous circumstances and saved her today.”

  Aren shrugged. He was not going to change his mind that this was anything but a string of happenstances. “So you say. But what is her task?”

  “Have you heard of the Night of Eclipse?” she asked.

  He nodded. “A little bit. It was an event more than two millennia ago. Some cataclysm was caused on the day the three moons formed a straight line and covered the sun. Any records I have heard of were just legends and myths.”

  “As far as I know, the truth of that event is known to three groups,” she explained. “The Holy Prophet-King and the Exemplars, the Seats of Vapunga Union, and the Teolian Royalty and Archmages.”

  “So I would learn of this anyway,” Aren concluded.

  The Exemplar Marie shrugged. “The light of that event is that the cataclysm was not caused by the moons, but rather by the creature they represent. That night, the Herald of Darkness destroyed the land of Mesungwe and scattered the surviving people across this continent. What you would categorize as apocalyptic best.”

  “That's… interesting,” Aren said, making a mental note to research the event with his magic when he could. He asked, trying to connect the dots, “Are you saying that the monster is still a threat and the young woman has something to do with it?”

  “Yes,” the exemplar confirmed. “This is the tale told to me by the Prophet-King. After thirty days of constant destruction and darkness, the Sun’s gentle embrace returned to the world…”

  “Sorry but could you just tell me the facts,” Aren interrupted. “The Power’s priest in my village didn’t succeed in converting me so I don’t think you will.”

  “That was not the point,” she said, sighing. “The beast raged for thirty days, destroying everything, the Sun hidden by the moons the entire time. Then the Sun was uncovered, and the first Prophet-King received a vision of the Sun’s and moons’ accord. A descendant of the Mesungwe royal bloodline would serve as caretaker for the beast. As long as they do, the peace will be everlasting.”

  “So the beast is still somewhere, and you send people to it as sacrifices to keep it happy?” Aren surmised. “Kind of like the Akz’ens throwing people into their volcanoes.”

  She gritted her teeth. “The Luminous One is a sacred duty.”

  “I did not mean to belittle it. If Fjorgandr left its home, causing the ash mountain to rise again, the entire world would be starving for years,” Aren said.

  “A what?” she asked.

  “The Akz’ens archipelago’s apocalyptic beast,” Aren explained. “They are keeping it placated by sacrificing people to it every year. This is why I despise those things.”

  “Is that… common knowledge?” the exemplar asked, confused.

  “I was studying the archipelago in my research.” He did not mention that he used the spell he developed to learn about that particular bit of knowledge.

  “That… that is a heavy duty, then,” she stated. “Yet ours does not change and is just as important. The Luminous One must continue her journey to the Dark Sanctuary.”

  “Then what do you want me to do?” Aren asked, already having an inkling of the idea and not liking it.

  “I want you to escort the Luminous One through her pilgrimage.”

  “How long will it last?” Aren asked, already hating the idea.

  “Three months, more or less,” she said.

  “I’m supposed to be gone from my kingdom for so long!? I have duties, you know! The classes, the research, and the winter solstice are in two months! As an Archmage, I am supposed to be there for the end-of-year festival,” Aren exclaimed.

  “Do I need to count on my fingers the number of Archmages who skimped on their duties? My fingers would not be enough if I did, and that includes my feet.”

  “...” Aren could not dispute that Archmages were allowed certain leniencies. “How would you know that?”

  “History and profiling of Archmages is one of the first lessons a candidate exemplar receives,” she informed him. “Look, I could blackmail you with diplomatic crap, but you should understand that I am actually desperate. I would not ask a mage for help with a sacred task otherwise.”

  “And why would I care?” Aren scoffed.

  “Because I had time to read your record,” she said. “As an adventurer, you risked your life often to save minor villages from threats that even the guild gave up on. As a professor, you are known for being patient and kind with your students and still, from time to time, show yourself stopping threats that would otherwise be ignored. This is not the record of someone who would leave a young woman to certain death.”

  “I stopped the assassins once, and isn’t it your job to protect her, if you need more men just ask for reinforcement from your church.” Aren scoffed.

  “If I could, I would,” the exemplar said, refilling their cups.

  Aren stood up and started walking toward the heavy door, preparing a spell to blast it open. “I do not have time for this. I am not going to protect some girl just so she can be sacrificed to some monster.”

  “...shame. The other Archmage would beg for an occasion to have an audience with the embodiment of their craft,” the exemplar said, emptying their cup. “He still sends our Prophet-King a yearly letter.”

  “What?” Aren stopped.

  “Just that the Wing of Darkness is known to be capable of both great magic and of speech,” she said teasingly. “A chosen guard, usually an exemplar, can enter the Dark Sanctuary alongside the Luminous One upon her arrival.”

  Aren looked at her inquisitively. Despite the mirth she tried to showcase, she was clearly desperate for his help. Still, an occasion to study an apocalyptic beast capable of using magic was not something he could casually ignore. “And how can I be sure it would be willing to converse about magic?”

  “You cannot. What goes behind the black veil remains there,” she said.

  Aren considered the words. This would be a gamble, still even if he received nothing, just the chance to study an apocalyptic beast personally was a possibility of learning a way to defeat them, of discovering how to free this world of this blight, and of getting closer to his perfect world.

  He returned to his cushion. “Fine. People will just think I am the next Disappearing Archmage Pisco, but I am not happy about using that young woman for this.”

  “The duty of the Luminous One is that of a gilded cage, not a roast for a dragon,” she said. “They spend twelve hours a day behind the veil during the night and return to rest in the temple outside. They are taken care of by the priests there and provided with whatever luxury they desire.”

  “Didn’t you say no one knows what happens inside the veil?” Aren asked skeptically.

  “The caretaker is unable to talk about what happens inside. But they get to live their life out normally beyond that. Some even marry, though most remain single for the rest of their lives. When they pass on, the Prophet-King receives a vision of who is the next Luminous One,” she explained.

  “I guess I will have to see that with my own eyes to truly believe it. Tell me what you know about the assassins?” he asked.

  “It is complicated and political,” she said, but Aren did not bat an eye and waited for an explanation. “There are those who do not approve of our Luminous One’s actions. Usually, the pilgrimage is supposed to be a quiet affair, with few public appearances during the sun's zenith at temples, as tradition dictates. The Luminous One is supposed to quietly stand there as worshipers pray.”

  “Instead of following tradition, the current Luminous One is trying to solve the problems plaguing our society. During her first public appearance, she spoke after the prayer and asked the priests there to go with her to a nearby village and heal people of a plague. She insisted until they agreed. Afterwards, a group of younger, more liberal priests said it was a sign and began doing the same across the sands. People even started calling them the Luminous Light.”

  “Sounds like a good thing,” Aren said.

  “I believe so too, but it upsets tradition, and I am sure you realize how certain people react to that,” she said with a sour expression and continued. “Later, the Luminous One started charities to build orphanages where there were none and support ones that existed. A lot of richer, younger families supported her. And yesterday, she asked the governor here to build an irrigation system for the fields instead of people having to carry water all day. She insisted until she got his vocal agreement.”

  Aren nodded. “And if she continues to do so and reaches the sanctuary, she will become a symbol of change.”

  “I am quite certain that the Luminous One will continue to do the same in whatever capacity she is able to once she finishes her pilgrimage too,” she finished.

  “I see,” Aren decided to dwell on the person he would be protecting later. For now, he needed to understand the situation. “Was this the first attack?”

  “We stopped a few assassins before, but those were mundane attacks. They tried to sneak in where we were staying but got caught,” she said. “This was a brazen gamble on their side that would have worked if not for your help.”

  “What happened exactly today, then?” Aren prodded.

  The exemplar nodded, emptying another cup. “We decided that it was too dangerous for the Luminous One to stay at the temple after multiple attacks, and we started to carefully organize a number of safe houses in each city. All went well until today, when I was called to attend the governor’s night prayer. That is not in itself unusual, but he insisted that he wished for as many of my personal warriors to attend as possible. He spoke of some great event and wished to pray for fortune. I ended up agreeing to not offend him.”

  “Then tonight I received urgent news that our safe house was attacked and that the Luminous One was dead. I was heading out with my troops to figure out what happened, and then I met the adventurer who informed me about finding a dying warrior in an alley. Since it was close to where the safe house was, we thought it was connected and hurried to the scene.”

  “So we know someone leaked the safe house locations and that the governor is on it,” Aren summarized.

  “Yes, there’s a traitor in my ranks. Leave dealing with them to me… and the Exemplars’ Synod voted against granting me reinforcements. I can’t call the next one until next month, and even then I doubt I’ll get more than a token force. Of the twelve other exemplars, nine are staunch traditionalists, and the rest are tied up with their own duties.”

  “And the governor?” Aren asked.

  “If I had proof, he would hang in a dungeon where the Sun would never reach him again before dawn,” she said bitterly. “We are leaving tomorrow anyway. He will not be an issue outside of his city, he wears a silver cloth not scarlet or amber.”

  “If you say so. I will need a primer on your ranks and social structure later,” Aren said, then smiled confidently. “You do not need to worry anymore, Marie. Now you have the best escort you could have ever asked for.”

  She sighed at the casual address with a defeated smile. “My best hope is a mage, and I will let him meet the magic scourge. I should have predicted that protecting this Luminous One would not stop throwing surprises my way. Fine, we need to discuss your disguise.”

  Mar’tei sat on the couch in the guest room they had been guided to, staring into space. Her brother and two teammates discussed some martial art topics while she processed what had happened and what had led to this situation.

  She had been resting after a week-long hunt and fiddling with her spell formations when a man, handsome enough to catch her attention if a bit too thin, approached their table. Still, she decided to ignore him, since she still felt the sand in her socks and wanted nothing more than to eat something and find the nearest stone sauna. While it was more humid than the heat rooms she was used to, she found it quite pleasant.

  Then the man started giving her advice on her magic and showed her formations that blew her mind. The man she had thought was a master mage then got drunk and foolish, like all men did, which led them to stumble into this whole mess.

  On top of that, she learned the handsome young man was an archmage. A mage who had reached the peak of magic, who could probably shatter this whole city to rubble if he wanted to. And he had given her advice on magic!

  She turned to her brother. “Are you guys seriously not blown away that we met an Archmage?”

  Her oaf of a brother scratched his head childishly. “I mean, he seems like a fun guy. Great in combat too. You should have seen him playing with two life practitioners using just his purple light. You know what those were?”

  “I’m not sure,” she said. “It was coming from the other band he wore. Maybe some kind of artifact?”

  “Well, whatever it was, he could be a great warrior without magic for sure,” Wes nodded. “What a waste.”

  “Truly?” Lan asked. “But he did end up casting some spell in the end?”

  “That was to protect against this rain of poisonous blades,” Wes said. “It was crazy. I thought they were dead for sure. Then the black guys retreated.”

  “What did it look like?” Mar’tei asked.

  “Well, the evil-looking dude pulled out some crystal, and those glowing circles appeared. When he threw his venom prana blade, it multiplied into hundreds, and they all flew towards him,” Wes recounted. “Then, like nothing, Aren made his own circles and a wall that seemed to split the world in two appeared, and all the blades turned to dust. It was amazing.”

  “How many circles were there?” she continued prodding.

  “I’m not sure…” Wes said. “I’m not that used to fighting against magic. Aren’s circles popped in and out really fast.”

  “It was six on both sides, but I think Aren’s spell was stronger.” Bar’tik had used his sister's spells and had enough instincts to pay attention in battle.

  “Wow…” Mar’tei exclaimed.

  “So, are you going to approach him for lessons?” Bar’tik asked.

  “What!? No! I wouldn’t dare!” She shook her head forcefully, as if banishing the thought entirely.

  “Shame, he seemed like a good guy,” the berserker said, his voice filled with regret. “I thought maybe spring had come for my little sun. You are always stuck in your magic books, so I thought maybe another mage would be good for you. At least Aren seems like a good sort, not totally stuck up like the one we worked with when passing through the plains.”

  She could not help but blush slightly at her brother’s antics. “Shut up! He is an important person, practically self-made royalty! I heard a few archmages even became kings or dukes through marriage!”

  “So?” Wes said casually, shrugging. “He vomits like every other man who drinks too much.”

  “...” Mar’tei stared emptily at the three men. “It is not like we will ever meet him again. I am sure he is too busy to worry about the four of us. The exemplar woman did not seem like she would let the matter drop easily.”

  “We grew up on legends of old wars with Teolians. I wonder who would win between the two of them,” Lan said, and just as the topic was turning back to combat, the door opened.

  A man wearing pale, sand-colored clothes of local make with pearly scaly armor on top entered through the door. His raven hair and eyes matched a long black shawl draped loosely around his neck. He stepped confidently, a wand attached at his hip, while an amused glint showed in his eyes.

  “Hello, my old friends and teammates, it is me, Ren! I have found a mission for you that you may be interested in,” the man announced.

  The four of them watched in shock, their jaws dropping. The Archmage they had been discussing stood before them, disguised in a way that no one who knew him could be fooled by.