Page 17 of Magic Undaunted

“The High Council knew about the mage’s experiments long before you did,” Stryker admitted, the words tasting like ash in his mouth. “They’ve been keeping it quiet, trying to control the information. They wanted to use him—to use his power. Oberon sent me to investigate, not to stop him, but to see if we could turn his magic to the Council’s advantage.”

Elyria’s breath hitched, disbelief and anger flashing in her eyes. “You’re saying the High Council has been letting him experiment on fae?”

Stryker nodded grimly. “Yes, I believe so. It may not be the entire Council; it may just be Oberon. He sees it as a necessary evil. A means to an end.”

“What end?”

“A way to maintain control. I think Oberon and the Council believe they can harness the mage’s power and use it to solidify their hold on Celestia.”

Elyria stepped back, her hands shaking slightly as she processed his words. The betrayal was written all over her face—the realization that the Council, the institution she had once bled for, was willing to sacrifice its own people for power.

“You knew this,” she whispered, her voice trembling with fury.

“I didn’t know, not really, at least not until recently.”

“You knew this, and you still served them?”

Stryker stood quietly. The time for prevarication was over. It was time he faced the truth and shared it with her. “I didn’tknow, Elyria. Not everything, at least not at first. But when I found out the truth… I couldn’t bring myself to believe it. I couldn’t face what the Council had become.”

Her eyes blazed with anger, but behind it, he could see the hurt—the same hurt that had been there the day she was banished, the same pain he had caused by not standing up for her.

“I trusted you, Stryker,” she said, her voice tight with emotion. “And you let me down. You let them cast me out like I was nothing.”

For a moment, Stryker couldn’t speak. She was right. He had let her down, and there was no excuse for it.

“I know I failed you,” he said quietly, his voice raw with regret. “And I’ve been paying for that every day since.”

Elyria’s eyes softened for just a moment, a flicker of something unspoken passing between them. But then, just as quickly, the walls went back up, her expression hardening.

“So why are you telling me this now?” she asked, her tone cold, but Stryker could hear the underlying current of vulnerability beneath it.

“Because I’m done lying,” he replied, his voice steady, though his heart was racing. “I’m done pretending I can stay loyal to a Council that’s willing to sacrifice everything for power. I’m with you and the rebels… if you’ll have me.”

“I’m just supposed to believe like that,” she said, snapping her fingers, “that you’re switching allegiances.”

“It’s up to you whether or not you believe me.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Stryker held his breath, waiting for her reaction, the tension between them pulling tighter with every passing second.

Then, finally, Elyria stepped closer, her eyes searching his. “You’re really willing to turn your back on everything? On the Council? On Oberon?”

Stryker met her gaze, his gaze unwavering as he nodded.

For a moment, neither of them moved, the weight of the decision hanging between them like a fragile thread. And then, without warning, Elyria reached out, her fingers brushing against his arm, trailing up to stroke his cheek, sending a spark of electricity through him.

“If you’re going to do this,” she said softly, her voice steady but laced with emotion, “then we need to be all in...”

Stryker could feel that storm that had been brewing on the horizon split the sky with its power and fury. Staring down at her, the closeness between them suddenly seemed almost overwhelming. Almost.

“I’m with you,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “Now and forever, I’m with you.”

Elyria’s breath caught, something deep and hidden for so long breaking free from its prison like a shooting star running across the night sky. For a moment, it felt like the world had stopped, like they were the only two people standing amidst the destruction.

But then, as if sensing the danger of their proximity, Elyria stepped back, the moment broken. “We need to move,” she said, her voice firm once more. “If what you’re saying is true, then we’re running out of time. The mage won’t stop until he has what he needs.”

Stryker nodded, the tension still thrumming in his veins, his resolve clear. Elyria met his gaze one last time before turning away, her wings unfurling slightly as she called out orders to the rebels. But even as she moved, Stryker knew that something between them had shifted. The trust that had been broken was beginning to mend.

As Stryker moved around the camp—helping to restore order, getting the wounded to the medical tent, seeing to the disposal of bodies, et cetera—he couldn’t help but notice that it wasn’t only Elyria with whom he was making progress. Little-by-little the rebels seemed to be accepting him. They might not trust him, but then most of them didn’t have any past with him. Even Finnian gave him a surreptitious nod of approval.

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