Page 23 of Magic Undaunted

Stryker stifled a chuckle. She could be sarcastically inappropriate at the best and worst of times. “I’ll try not to do that.”

The grand hall of the High Council was just as it had always been, at least on the surface—gleaming, imposing, the seat of power for the fae realm. Or had it always been as he saw it now—corrupt and disintegrating into the shadows? The feeling as he stepped inside was different. It was colder, more dangerous.

He moved through the hall, his eyes scanning the familiar faces of his comrades—fae he had fought beside, trained with, trusted. But now, with every interaction, he felt the burden of potential betrayal. He couldn’t trust any of them. Not fully.

His first stop was Lord Thaelon, an elder fae with ties to the High Council, a mentor who had always questioned Oberon’s harsher decisions. Thaelon greeted him with a warm smile, but Stryker could see the uncertainty in his eyes.

“Stryker, it’s been too long,” Thaelon said, his voice smooth but laced with curiosity. “I’ve heard troubling rumors. You’ve been absent from the Council. And now you return… with what purpose?”

Stryker took a deep breath, his mind racing as he weighed his next words carefully. “I’ve discovered something—something the Council needs to know. Lord Oberon is involved with the rogue mage. He’s been using the mage’s power for his own ends, experimenting on fae.”

Thaelon’s smile faltered, his eyes narrowing. “That’s a dangerous accusation.”

“It’s not an accusation,” Stryker said, his voice firm. “It’s the truth.”

Thaelon studied him for a long moment, the importance of the conversation laid bare. “You’ve always been loyal, Stryker. But loyalty can be a burden when it blinds us.”

Stryker nodded solemnly. “I have been blind too long. I’m not anymore.”

Thaelon nodded slowly, a flicker of understanding passing through his eyes. “Then you must tread carefully. The Council is not as it once was.”

Stryker’s heart pounded as Thaelon turned away, his words lingering like a warning. The Council was divided, more dangerous than ever. And with every step he took, the risk of betrayal grew.

The grand hall of the High Council was eerily silent as Stryker made his way deeper into the castle, his heart racing with a mix of anticipation and dread. The confrontation with Oberon loomed before him, and every step he took broughthim closer to the inevitable clash. His mind spun with the possible consequences of what he was about to reveal—Oberon’s complicity in the rogue mage’s schemes, the dark secrets the Council had buried beneath centuries of deception.

As he approached the throne room, the massive doors swung open with a soft creak, revealing the imposing figure of Lord Oberon seated on his crystal throne. The hall was bathed in a pale, ethereal light, casting long shadows that writhed across the floor. The fae lords and ladies who filled the room turned to watch him, their faces masked with curiosity and suspicion.

Oberon’s golden eyes gleamed as Stryker stepped into the room, his lips curving into a cold smile. “Ah, Stryker. I was wondering when you would return.”

Stryker felt the weight of every gaze in the room on him, but he kept his eyes fixed on Oberon, his jaw tight with barely restrained anger. “I’ve done as you commanded Lord Oberon, and I returned with the truth.”

Murmurs rippled through the Council, but Oberon remained unfazed, his smile widening as he leaned forward on his throne. “The truth? And what truth might that be?”

“You’ve been working with the rogue mage,” Stryker said, his voice ringing out across the hall. “You’ve been using his magic, experimenting on fae, and hiding it from the Council.”

The murmurs grew louder, a ripple of shock and disbelief passing through the assembled fae. Oberon’s smile faltered for the briefest moment, his eyes narrowing as he rose to his feet.

“And what proof do you have of this… accusation?” Oberon asked, his voice dangerously low.

“I’ve seen it with my own eyes,” Stryker replied, his voice steady. “I’ve spoken to the rebels, to those who have escaped your experiments. The library in the Phantom Bayou holds records of your dealings with the mage. You’re using his powerto gain control of Celestia, to manipulate the fae for your own gain.”

A tense silence fell over the room, the air thick with magic and anticipation. Stryker could feel the weight of the moment, the danger of what he was revealing. But he had come too far to back down now.

Oberon’s face darkened, his expression shifting from cold amusement to something far more menacing. “You’re making a mistake, Stryker,” he said, his voice laced with barely concealed fury. “You’ve always been loyal to the Council, but now you’ve allowed your infatuation with and lust for Elyria Knightshade to cloud your judgment and your reason.”

Stryker took a step forward, shaking his head. “I’m not blind anymore, Oberon. I know what you’ve done. And I won’t stand by and let you destroy everything I’ve fought for.”

Oberon’s eyes flashed with anger, and in an instant, the room exploded with magic. Dark tendrils of energy lashed out from Oberon’s hands, swirling through the air and crashing into Stryker with a force that sent him staggering back. From the end of the hall, the doors flew open and the rebels entered, brandishing both their weapons and their magic. Before Oberon could attack Stryker again, it was Elyria’s magic that formed a shield in front of him. The walls of the chamber trembled, the floor beneath them cracking as the power of their magic collided.

Stryker barely had time to regain his footing and shift before another wave of magic slammed into the barrier Elyria had constructed before him, sending shards of crystal flying through the air. He lifted off. He wouldn’t be able to stop Oberon from behind Elyria’s shield, and she knew better. Oberon held off Elyria and still managed to send a blast of magic through Stryker, the force of it reverberating through his body.

“Oberon, stop this!” one of the fae lords shouted, his voice lost in the chaos.

But Oberon didn’t stop. His face twisted with fury as he unleashed a torrent of dark magic, the true extent of his power laid bare for the Council to see. The walls of the throne room shook, the very foundation of the castle trembling beneath the onslaught.

Stryker fought back with everything he had, as did the rebels—magic flaring brighter and stronger than ever as they met Oberon’s attacks head-on. Stryker tried to get around the magic to get to Oberon to bring him down, but the fae leader refused to yield or be beaten.

He knew they had to win—even though most of the High Council had retreated to the sidelines to observe. But this was bigger than them, bigger than any of them. This was about the future of Celestia.

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