Iliam looked older than Aureus had imagined. Bushy white brows, furrowed in silent consternation, lay between tufts of white hair on his balding head and weary blue eyes—one of which seemed afflicted with cataracts. The arcanist's wrinkled face, framed by his left thumb and index finger where he rested his chin, was expressionless, unreadable, and may as well have been shrouded by the darkness kept at bay by dim lamplight on the kitchen table between them.

And here I thought finding his home would be the hard part, Aureus mused.

Locating the local "wizard" had been easy enough using the descriptions provided by a group of refugees as they fled south during the journey north. Getting Iliam to allow him inside his humble home on the outskirts of Sylvanfall had been difficult. Convincing him to start providing answers now felt impossible.

There's no doubt he recognizes me, but he won't even tell me how. I was a baby the last time he saw me, so there's no way he'd know who I am. And we've been sitting here for at least half an hour just...staring at me.

"Why haven't you left like everyone else?" Aureus asked.

The slow and mellow timbre of Iliam's voice surprised Aureus. "There wouldn't be much of a point in leaving, now would there?"

"Everyone else seems to think so... I hear the Deathless are on their way."

"Hmm, yes—they are, aren't they? I suppose that speaks for itself then, doesn't it?"

"Aren't you concerned? Or do you know something I don't? Some way to stop them?"

"Oh no, not in the slightest," Iliam replied, giving a long and tired sigh. "No, my chance for finding refuge died when the team I hired failed to steal an aegis seed."

An aegis seed? Aureus wondered. It was a rare and powerful fae artifact meant to shield entire communities of the Seelie Court from prying eyes. "Why? Did you know this would happen?"

"If I had, I wouldn't have bothered after it in the first place. The seed is all but useless now that magic's gone."

"Oh...right," Aureus said, suppressing his guilt for what felt like the hundredth time, and it was no easier than before. If anything, it was becoming more difficult as the world fell into ruin. There'd be no shortage of horror stories about the Deathless from refugees. "So, why were you trying to steal the seed?"

"Well, there were some Courtless who came to me, looking for help." Iliam shifted in his chair and crossed his arms. "I told them what I knew, and in exchange, I asked they take me with them whenever they decided to plant the seed and hide."

Aureus noted the repeated rhythmic rise and fall of Iliam's voice, unable to recall an accent that rolled its r's in the same manner. "The Courtless, I understand," Aureus replied, "but why would you need to hide? As long as you remain in exile, the Arcanarium will leave you alone."

Iliam suppressed a mirthless laugh. "That's what you think, eh? You don't really know then, do you?"

"Know what?"

"Ah, of course, you don't," Iliam said, pursing his lips and nodding. "As ever, the Enclave would be remiss to share anything but the truth—least of all with you."

"What 'truth'?" Aureus leaned forward on his elbows; patience spread thin. He was tired, hungry, and desperate for answers. Xiomara had died getting him to Iliam. I didn't come all this way to be toyed with. "What is it you know about me? And how do you know who I am? It's been thirty years since you've seen me—or Ilias, for that matter. In fact, I'm not sure you've ever met him."

Iliam flashed a humorless smile, speaking through gritted teeth. Even in subdued anger, his voice still sounded like music. "I'll ignore that slight, and I shall answer your questions despite it, but all in good time, boy."

Boy? Seriously? Aureus was about to object, but Iliam cut him off. "Your anger with me for leaving Madrona is understandable, but let's not get ahead of ourselves. You want to know where you come from and why you're absorbing magic, yes?"

"Yes," Aureus replied. "Of course."

Iliam rested his elbows on the table, mirroring Aureus. "Before I tell you, I would ask you to answer a question first. I've a feeling it's not only relevant to your inquiries but might also provide some historical context to what's led you here."

"Yes, fine," Aureus said, nodding eagerly.

"Tell me: were you helping the Arcanarium build an arcane reactor?"

"An arcane what?"

"Clever—very clever," Iliam said, wagging an index finger, "not telling you its name and pretending it was the first they'd heard of it—very clever, indeed."

"Heard of what?"

"A renewable source of potent, concentrated magic—boundless in its capacity to supply enough power for the Arcanarium's mages and technology. Why do you think Alatyr is the only city on the continent where you can find ether cars and airships buzzing about your head without needing to recharge, hmm? Why do you think all the world's arcanists have gathered there for research?"

"I don't follow..."

"Think, boy, think!" Iliam urged, pointing at his own temple.

"Alatyr was built on a font of magic—larger than anywhere else. Everyone knows why it's easy to cast there."

Iliam held up his finger again. "Ah! But what they don't know is how such a vast deposit was found or, rather, created."

"Are you implying the Arcanarium built an artificial font and have been passing it off as a natural one centuries before I invented it?"

A genuine smile pulled Iliam's thin lips taut. "Precisely."

"But how? Why?"

"I think you know why they would want to make one—likely for similar reasons you did, among others. As to why they would hide it? Well, that, my boy, is an entirely different matter."

"Please," Aureus started, "stop calling me"—he paused, realizing what Iliam had said—"Wait... How would you know what I intended to do with my research or that I was the one to discover how to make an artificial font? I only shared those designs with the Enclave—"

"Who were quite smitten with them, I'm sure," Iliam interrupted. "But do you honestly believe you're the first person to discover how to create an arcane reactor and realize its potential for humanity?"

How could he possibly know any of this? He's been in exile for as long as I've been alive!

Now that he thought of it, the Enclave had accepted his proposal rather quickly, overruling various protocols to expedite testing and practical application. He'd been so excited by his overnight success that he hadn't stopped to think about the ramifications. "For the sake of argument, let's say everything you're saying is true, but what does any of it have to do with my ability?"

"Well, it has everything to do with it, I'm afraid. Were I to hazard a guess, I would venture to say that the first time you tried to create a reactor, it failed miserably, yes? Caused all sorts of mayhem and hullabaloo that has since culminated into your current predicament, hmm?"

And the deaths of two adepts, five mages, and six arcanists, Aureus recalled from Killian's tally. And countless others since I've started stealing magic and released the Deathless... The weight of his guilt threatened to crush him, but he buried it. "Were I to hazard a guess: you know exactly why all this is happening. Get to the point. Please."

Iliam leaned back, withdrew a wooden medallion from his pocket, and placed it on the table. The face of the palm-sized trinket was worn, but the intricate carving of two trees sharing the same trunk was still discernable. "Do you know what this is?" he asked, pointing at it.

"It's the emblem of the Unseelie Court."

"And do you know how I might have come to possess it?"

"There've been rumors you colluded with the Unseelie before the end of the Long War... A gift for your 'cooperation'?"

"'Collusion," Iliam said, as if the word tasted sour. "That's what they've been calling it, have they?"

"You wouldn't be the first to be accused of it..." Aureus rubbed his right pinky—pulled for a moment into the memory of Killian's brutal interrogation.

"No, I don't suppose so. But no—this was no gift, and nor was it given to me by the fae. I'll not bore you with the details, but I do wish to tell you why it was given to me."

"Enlighten me."

"It's a reminder, you see. A reminder of past sins for which I have spent many a year trying to atone." Iliam held the medallion up for Aureus to see. "On the top—there—the tree of life, and on the bottom, the tree of death. Two trees that are one, turning in a great, unending cycle in perfect balance." He placed it on the table and idly spun it on its edge. "A cycle that I, and others, tried to forestall when we built the first arcane reactor and imprisoned Erenyx behind the Veil using its power."

"That's..." Aureus struggled to find the words. "The Veil was created ages ago... That'd mean you'd have to be—"

"Old," Iliam interjected, smirking. "Well over two hundred years, give or take a few decades."

No wonder I can't place his accent. He's from an entirely different era!

Aureus wordlessly listened as the ancient arcanist spun the medallion.

"Around the time of the Acanarium's founding, an Unseelie oracle foretold that one day, humanity and all creation would be destroyed by Erenyx. The first Aeldritch Enclave was formed, and they decided to do something about it. They appointed a man named Valerius to head a research team to search for a solution."

The name Valerius struck Aureus as familiar, but he struggled to remember where he'd heard it.

"I was placed under his guidance along with other notable scholars of magical theory, and so began an endeavor to save our species at any cost. At first, we experimented on Courtless and half-fae wanderers—anyone we could safely abduct without drawing attention. The experiments were cruel, and even the strongest among them succumbed. Some took years to expire. Our hope was to unlock the secrets of fae longevity and magical potency and apply our discoveries to ward off outside threats—not to mention Erenyx, as you can imagine. Unfortunately, we succeeded."

Gods...he's talking about this so casually... He was complicit.

"Even had I seen it then—Valerius's terrible obsession with power and immortality—I don't believe we could have stopped him even if we'd wanted to. He was a gifted and powerful arcanist—one of the first, in fact—and it was he who discovered how humanity could not only survive the coming calamity, but thrive in spite of it."

Iliam let the medallion spin freely. Both men watched it slow to a stop and fall flat on the table.

"Theory became reality," Iliam continued, staring at the medallion, "and the arcane reactor was created—becoming both the Arcanarium's shield and its sword. And so began the Long War, starting with an assault on Erenyx."

"Let me get this straight," Aureus said. "Are you telling me we experimented on, tortured, and killed fae to create an energy source so we could start a war with the god of death to save ourselves? What sort of twisted logic is that? And all the because of some...prophecy?"

"Oh, it wasn't just fae," Iliam replied, lifting his gaze. "No, we experimented on humans, too. Mages and common folk. Some of our own, in fact—myself included."

"Is that how you became..." Aureus trailed off, gesturing at Iliam, unsure of what to call his "condition".

"I'm not immortal, if that's what you're asking, though that was the initial intention, yes. Valerius needed volunteers, you see—before he was willing to experiment on himself. In the early days, I was one of his most ardent students." He sighed. "But to answer your initial question: yes, everything we did, we did in the name of salvation.

"After many years of struggle, humanity successfully imprisoned Erenyx and the Deathless behind the Veil. How the Enclave convinced the world they'd killed a god is beyond me, but the story held, and the rest is history. If anything, I think it was what people wanted to believe for peace of mind... But in that time, after I saw the full scope of the horrors I'd helped Valerius achieve, I became disillusioned by his and the Enclave's quest for domination.

"Despite our victory, the Unseelie Court fought on, fearing that if left unchecked, we would upset the Balance and upend the Great Cycle. As the bodies piled up, and there seemed to be no end in sight, Lord Oberon and the Unseelie deliberated if humans were acting out of their own nature—if we were meant to destroy the world in Erenyx's stead. Ultimately, the Unseelie accepted this paradox and resigned themselves and the rest of the world to fate in hopes the Great Cycle was inevitable—that life would come again after civilization's fated destruction. With added pressure to end the war under threat of interference by the Seelie Court, peace talks began.

"Meanwhile, Valerius continued his experiments in Eventide while monitoring the Veil—even after I and most of the team had returned to Alatyr to oversee the reactor. Eventually, I got it into my head that I would confront Valerius for his crimes and convince him to put an end to it. And that is when I found you—left to die in rubbish."

I was born in Eventide? Aureus asked, "Madrona...she knows the truth, doesn't she?"

Iliam nodded. "Yes, of course. She was the only person I ever told when I brought you to Alatyr. In hindsight, that was a mistake. The Enclave knew of my affection for her, of course, and have been keeping a close eye on her ever since."

His heart sank at the realization. "She lied to me. I mean, I had a feeling, but to hear it out loud..." He shook his head. "But why? Even you lied to the Enclave about where you found me. Why would it matter if I was found in a trash heap in Eventide instead of Alatyr?"

"Because, my boy, you weren't found in just any trash heap." Leaning forward, Iliam said, "You were found outside of Valerius's lab..."

"What are you insinuating? That Valerius is my father?"

"No," Iliam replied. "But you are connected to him. And so, I was faced with a choice as I understood it at the time: confront Valerius and, by extension, the whole of the Arcanarium, or save you..."

"And you saved me..." Aureus scoffed, "purely out of the goodness of your heart?"

"No." Iliam brushed his fingertips on the medallion. "I did it because it was the right thing to do—and, I admit, to assuage my own guilt and begin to set things right. To preserve the Balance."

"A lot of good that did. If you'd just left me there, we both wouldn't be up to our necks right now in a sea of blood!"

"If I had, you would be dead!" Iliam replied, raising his voice. "Or worse, the Arcanarium would have found you. No sooner had I spirited you away the Enclave sent hexwardens to bring Valerius to heel and confiscate his research. He was drawing too much attention, just as you would have done just for being what you are! By the time I arrived in Alatyr, my home had also been raided, so I did the only thing I could: I played the fool and lied about where you came from so they would take you in like any other orphan. If they had learned otherwise before the treaty was signed, they would have killed you or, at the very least, ensured you never saw the light of day!"

What I am...not who. I'm still just a thing to him—a means to an end. He thought of Ilias and Madrona. Not a son or even family. Just a bargaining chip to end a war he helped start... Aureus stood, knocking over his chair. "Just tell me already! Who am I? You could have taken me anywhere, but you chose the Arcanarium! Why? Why is this happening to me?"

Exhaling slowly, Iliam spoke with his hands at a low, measured pace. "It was my hope that you would one day realize your potential. What I did not expect is that you would follow in Valerius's footsteps and unlock your ability before you were ready."

"What do you mean 'unlock'?"

Iliam gestured toward the fallen chair. "Sit, please." When Aureus didn't move, the old man placatingly held up both of his hands. "You have every right to be frustrated, and I apologize for shouting. But please, if you will"—he gestured at the chair again—"so that we may continue our conversation like civilized men."

Frustrated isn't the half of it. Embarrassed for acting like a petulant child, Aureus picked up the chair and sat.

"When I found you," Iliam said, "I discovered a ward inside your body, formed using the same base sigils that powered the arcane reactor, except they were inverted."

Understanding dawned on Aureus. One of the primary laws of the arcane arts stated that when a foundational rune line meets its inversed opposite, they would cancel each other out. "Basically, meaning that if I ever came into contact with the sigils of an arcane reactor—which I did—the reactor and the ward preventing me from using my power would both be destroyed. Gods. What made you think to look in the first place?"

Shrugging, Iliam said, "Well, it seemed like a wise thing to do, considering where I found you. Besides, I'd worked with Valerius long enough to know that he never experimented on anything less than extraordinary. He'd found countless others with rare and unique magical abilities he wanted to harness for himself but was notorious for killing them when he could not, and I suspected he'd meant to do the same to you."

"So why didn't he? Kill me outright, I mean."

"I imagine he thought he had by leaving you alone to die. Were I to guess, I'd say he underestimated the capacity for human kindness."

"What makes you say that?"

"Because—it was a quality, I believe, he lacked."

"That's...conveniently poetic," Aureus replied.

"And yet, here you are."

Aureus grunted. "And yet, here I am."

Iliam picked up the medallion and slowly turned it end over end, rubbing the carving.

"Something still doesn't make sense, though..." Aureus said. "More than a few things, actually."

"Hmm?"

"I can think of half a dozen ward combinations that would have been just effective in sealing my ability. So why use one that essentially acts like a self-destruction key for something he built? And why put it in a person? In me?"

"I have been trying to puzzle that out for years," Iliam replied.

"And?"

"I'm afraid I don't have an answer, really. Sorry to disappoint."

Damnit.

"And another thing: after the accident, I was arrested and interrogated... Kil­—the inquisitor who interrogated me—he seemed to think I was attempting to sabotage Alatyr's defenses for an Unseelie attack. Do you think it's possible Valerius intended for this to happen? That he used me as some sort of weapon? If so, did he know about me when I was born? Did he know my parents?"

"I don't suppose it's impossible, but why go through the trouble of tossing you out? He would have needed to be clairvoyant to know I was coming and what I was going to do before I did it. Highly unlikely."

"For Valerius, maybe," Aureus said, "but not for a fae oracle. Who's to say he didn't force one to work for him? You said it yourself—he rounded up people from all over with abilities and used them for his own gain."

"Unlikely, but not impossible. However, I think you're failing to see the forest through the trees. Inquisitors are trained to extract information through whatever means necessary."

"Trust me, I know." He rubbed his pinky again. "I'm familiar with their 'methods'."

"Some, yes, but not all, I think," Iliam said, pocketing the medallion. "Inquisitors are as adept at torture as they are misdirection. They keep their victims on edge and off balance in hopes of getting the information they need, even if it means lying to them. I would caution against thinking too much about your time under an inquisitor's knife."

He might be right... Killian did seem like he was making some pretty big logic leaps...but still. Aureus decided to let it go and focused instead on his next train of thought. "Have the Deathless ever been known to absorb magic?"

"No—never. Why do you ask?"

"It's just...when I was in Nysara, I came face-to-face with one. Apparently, it had absorbed magic from the entire city long before I arrived. I've never read about them being able to do that."

Sighing, Iliam said, "I don't see how that's possible, considering how harmful magic is to them. It wouldn't surprise me if fonts near Nysara were connected to those in Alatyr, where you initially began siphoning magic."

The logic was sound, but it still didn't entirely explain the timing of it all. Based on Cahira's account, the Deathless in Nysara had arrived mere hours after Aureus's failed attempt to create the reactor, which meant magic from the Veil would have also had to have failed far sooner than he could have ever predicted.

I'm missing something—I can feel it.

"It's getting late," Iliam said, standing. "These old bones are tired, and it's about time I prepare to wade out into the fords of the river."

"What river?"

Iliam laughed, ignoring the question. "What will it be for you then, hmm? Do you intend to die here with me, full of longing and regret?"

"Pardon?"

"The Deathless will be here in a day or two, if not sooner, in case you've forgotten. Will you be leaving tonight?"

"I—"

"Douse the lamp before you leave or sleep—whichever." Iliam shuffled into the shadows beyond sight. Metal clinked against metal as he rummaged around in the kitchen. "Mhhmf...tea's cold. No matter, you're welcome to it if you want, but mind the cups—they're cheap, and a bit sharp. If you're still here in the morning, perhaps we might carry on our little chat, eh? If we're both still alive, that is."

"Uhm...sure. But shouldn't we talk—"

"There's a guest cot you can use in the common room. Mind the splinters, though."

The sound of shuffling feet grew faint.

"Iliam?"

"Hmm?"

"Why do you think the Unseelie made me the lynchpin in the peace treaty? Do you think it had something to do with the prophecy?"

A soft chuckle sounded in the dark, followed by a brief pause. "Possibly. Perhaps, though, you were simply in the right place at the right time. Who's to say? The Unseelie are awfully fond of their lessons about life and death, are they not?"

The comment made him smile, reminding him of Xiomara.

"Good night, my boy."

Aureus shook his head, muttering, "Good night, old man."

He sat at the table for a time, watching the singular flame of the lamp dance alone in an ocean of black, and finally summoned enough courage to withdraw Xiomara's letter from his shirt pocket. He flipped it over several times in his hands, debating on whether to finally read it or spend another night obsessing over its contents.

Her lifeless gaze flashed in his mind, and her words echoed softly in his thoughts, like the ringing of a bell, "Perhaps you aren't asking the right question. What remains after all the world has fallen away?"

He remembered the answer. Only the self remains... Reflect when you're at death's door.

Thumb at the ready, he prepared himself to lift the seal flap and pull out the letter. Worried thoughts gnawed at him while he hesitated. Should I just stop here? My leads have run dry. If I go back to the Arcanarium, they'll kill me for sure, or worse. And if they don't, the Deathless eventually will. I was barely able to fight one, and I didn't even kill it—Cahira did. How am I supposed to take on an army, not to mention Ereynx? And even if I get some sort of lead on where to find Valerius—if he's still alive—I'm already at the end of the line. The last of the fae are fading, thanks to me. There's nowhere left to go.

Xiomara's voice reached him again through time and memory. "Master your fear and hold on."

Gods... I miss you, Xio.

He decided to leave it be for another night and slid the letter into his pocket, dousing the lamp—then silently wished he hadn't when he walked nose-first into the wall behind him.

⊱─━━━━⊱༻●༺⊰━━━━─⊰

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