Page 10 of Magic Undaunted

ELYRIA

Elyria knew she shouldn’t have lingered after the fight, but there had been no other option. The creature—once a fae servant, now a twisted, magic-drained husk—was proof of the darkness looming at the edge of the fae realm. It had confirmed her worst suspicions about the High Council and Oberon’s shadowy dealings. But the adrenaline hadn’t faded as she made her way back to the hidden encampment of the rebels, and her mind remained tangled in what had happened. Worse, she couldn’t stop thinking about Stryker.

His presence had shaken her more than she wanted to admit. The tension between them was as palpable and perilous as ever, simmering just below the surface, waiting for one wrong move to erupt into something more. But it wasn’t just the tension, it was the look in his eyes. There had been doubt there.

As rumors of their spies in Celestia reached her at the rebel stronghold, she knew that Stryker had been tasked with investigating the incident. The High Council wanted someone—arguably their best warrior and one who, at least, had the appearance of being unbiased to find out what had happened and, she was sure, to cover their tracks if necessary. That meant Stryker would come looking for answers.

Their choice only showed the High Council’s arrogance. Stryker was no fan of the High Council, and the answers he sought might just make him understand the depth of the Council’s corruption. Elyria just questioned if she could stay ahead of him long enough to expose those answers before everything fell apart.

Stryker

Stryker’s mind churned as he moved through the lavish corridors of the High Council, his steps heavy beneath the burden of this newest task. He was a warrior, not an investigator. The incident—the discovery of a creature, the twisted form of a lesser fae servant—had sent shockwaves through Celestia. The fae who had witnessed it were terrified, rumors spreading like wildfire about dark magic invading their realm.

Now, his job was to investigate; to find out what—or who—was behind it. Unfortunately, he already had a suspicion of who it might have been. For Stryker, the question was really, why?

He clenched his jaw as he walked toward Oberon’s chambers, his thoughts a whirlwind of anger and confusion. Normally, his loyalty to the High Council would have been enough to carry him through an investigation like this. But ever since finding Elyria wandering the halls of the palace, everything had shifted. The seeds of doubt she had planted the last time they’d spoken had taken root and now were growing faster than he could control.

She had warned him. She had told him that the High Council was hiding something, that their hands weren’t as clean as theypretended. And though he had dismissed her words at the time, the unease gnawing at him now was impossible to ignore.

He reached Oberon’s chambers, the grand double doors towering over him, the faint glow of magic shimmering along their edges. With a deep breath, Stryker pushed them open and stepped inside.

Oberon was waiting, his usual regal demeanor firmly in place. He sat behind a massive crystal desk, his fingers steepled, his golden eyes watching Stryker with an unsettling calm.

“Stryker,” Oberon said smoothly, his voice carrying the weight of authority. “You’ve come to discuss the unfortunate event at the gathering, I presume.”

“Unfortunate doesn’t quite cover it,” Stryker replied, his voice steady, masking his emotions and the conflict within him. “A fae was twisted into something unrecognizable. The witnesses are terrified. There are rumors of dark magic spreading through Celestia.”

Oberon’s lips curved slightly, though the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Rumors have a way of exaggerating the truth, Stryker. You know that.”

Stryker stepped forward, his frustration simmering just beneath the surface. “I’ve interrogated several of the witnesses, and they all saw the same thing. A fae servant transforming into a creature—a husk, drained of magic. This wasn’t a random accident. Something dark is happening, and it’s spreading.”

Oberon leaned back in his chair, his expression thoughtful, though Stryker could sense the evasiveness behind it. “Dark magic is a dangerous thing, but it is also elusive. It has ways of manifesting where we least expect it. Perhaps the servant was simply… tainted by exposure to something outside of our control.”

Stryker narrowed his eyes. “Outside of our control? Or outside of the Council’s control?”

Oberon’s gaze sharpened. “Do you doubt the Council’s ability to protect its people, Stryker?”

The question hung in the air, heavy with implication. Stryker’s jaw tightened. “I’m not here to question the Council or any of its actions,” he said carefully, though the doubt in his voice was undeniable. “I was tasked to find out what really happened.”

“Then find it,” Oberon replied, his tone cold and final. “I would suggest exercising caution when you make your accusations. The Council has many enemies, some of whom would like nothing more than to see us falter.”

Stryker bristled. He didn’t need to be reminded of the dangers lurking beyond Celestia’s borders. But there was something in Oberon’s tone that struck a chord—a warning, a threat, veiled beneath the surface.

The memory of Elyria’s voice echoed in his mind.‘There’s something bigger happening, and you’re too blind to see it.’

His loyalty had never been questioned. It had always been steadfast and unwavering. But now, as he stood before Oberon, the High Lord of the Council, the man who had banished Elyria without a second thought, Stryker couldn’t shake the growing suspicion that something was being hidden from him.

“Is there something you’re not telling me?” Stryker asked, his voice low, challenging.

Oberon’s eyes flashed, but he kept his expression composed. “I’ve told you all you need to know.”

The words were final, dismissive, but they only deepened Stryker’s unease. He had known Oberon for centuries, had once fought under his command, had trusted him without question. But now, standing here, Stryker couldn’t help but feel that something was terribly wrong.

Without another word, he turned and left the chamber, his mind spinning with doubt. Oberon’s evasiveness had onlyconfirmed what Elyria had been trying to tell him all along—there was more at play here than the Council was willing to admit. Had he been too blind to see it all along?

As Stryker made his way down the corridor, his thoughts drifted back to Elyria. Her warnings, her defiance, the way she had looked at him that night after the gathering—angry, hurt, but still burning with the same fire that had always drawn him to her, continued to gnaw at him. He had tried to push her away, tried to bury his feelings for her, but it had been impossible. The more he tried to forget, the stronger the pull became.

It felt as if some elemental truth about the Council was slipping through his fingers, Stryker couldn’t deny it any longer. Elyria had been right. She had seen what he had refused to, and now, he was standing on the edge of something he didn’t fully understand. One thing was certain: if he was going to find out the truth, he would need to look outside the parameters the Council had set before him. Perhaps, in the end, it would be Elyria who proved to be the key to unraveling it all.

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