Despite attempts to replace it with a more formal system, Syndwinn's ?ther channel strength ranking system remains the most widely used. A holdover from the early days of Enlightenment, Syndwinn's system places the summit point at thirty-six, allowing for six tiers of six ranks each. In this way, a rank fourteen channeller would be a third tier, rank two. Runestones are graded with this system as well, with the element requiring the most strength determining its overall rank.

  Excerpt from 'Introduction to the Workings of Magic'

  “You are telling me that we have learned absolutely nothing in the past few days?” Kell asked, her icy gaze fixed on Raviel.

  “That is what I'm telling you,” Raviel answered casually, undaunted by Kell's chilling assault.

  Hans shifted uncomfortably in his seat and let his gaze drift across the richly decorated room. The haunt used for this meeting was one of the mansions in the Amber Quarter. The owner had left it unoccupied after the White Candle guild disappeared, and the Whisper had wasted no time in appropriating it for its own purposes.

  As Kell and Raviel continued their conversation, Hans ran through the past few days in his mind. It was hard to believe that not so long ago he had been living in his small, plain room in River's End, the city's poorest district. Without warning, he had been reassigned, and two days later found himself right in the middle of the worst magic-related incident since the Callium Imperatus Schism: the disappearance of the White Candle guild.

  Before the meeting, Hans had intended to tell Kell that he wished to be reassigned back to his previous outfit. However, the way the conversation was going, he felt it more prudent to wait for a better time. Despite the tireless investigation, the fate that had befallen White Candle was still a complete mystery. Their sanctum remained a closed vault, and Kell's mood had grown foul as a result.

  At least I'm not the one she's angry with.

  The middle-aged operator, sharp eyes above a button nose, placed her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her hands. “You are not telling me what I want to hear.”

  She briefly shifted her pale blue eyes towards Hans, who felt a chill run down his spine. She did not say anything, which made him feel even more nervous.

  Why was I even assigned to this outfit? I don't know the first thing about magic guilds or their politics.

  Hans glanced at his fellow field agent, Raviel, who tapped his fingers together in a gesture of slight annoyance and formed a frown with his thick eyebrows.

  “Did you consider the possibility that there is nothing for us to find?” he asked, regaining Kell's attention. “After all, whatever happened to the White Candle guild was something they could have inflicted upon themselves, which means that the information we want lies within their sanctum.” He leaned back leisurely in his chair. “A sanctum, I might add, that is secured with every possible ward known to man, and probably some that aren't, if they live up to even a fraction of their reputation.”

  “I find that unacceptable,” Kell said, flicking her hand dismissively.

  Raviel opened his palms. “I realize that, but what can we do? The Royal Guard turned the rest of the White Candle inside out and found nothing of note. Hans and I questioned all the servants, and they only know that all the magistrae entered the sanctum the evening before the incident to do... something. Apart from that, we only know that the red light currently burning above the entrance is a very bad sign. White Candle's remaining adepts and apprentices know even less than that.”

  Kell shook her head. “If there is nothing at the White Candle itself, then what about the other guilds? Is there nothing noteworthy to report about them either?”

  “As far as we can tell, every other magic guild in the city is just as much in the dark as we are.”

  “Even Hyna?”

  Raviel shrugged. “Who knows what Hyna is up to or what they know? Aren't you stretching it by involving them?”

  Kell did not answer, instead turning towards Hans. “Your previous outfit was part of Sewer division, yes? They operate in the same parts of the city as Hyna: the Seventh District, River's End.”

  “They do,” Hans answered, choosing his words carefully. “But we never had much to do with them. They don't come out into the open, and we don't look into the things they might be responsible for. Not on purpose, anyway.”

  He glanced at Raviel. “Forgive me if this sounds rash, but shouldn't you have more knowledge about this in any case? After all, Hyna is a magic guild, and those are ?ther division's domain. Not Sewer division's, which mainly deals with petty crooks, gangs and other underworld types.”

  “Some would argue that there isn't much difference” Raviel said with a smirk on his face. “It's just that they dress differently.”

  Kell ignored the jibe, answering Hans instead. “Strictly speaking you are correct. However, several years ago the decision was made to exempt Hyna from active investigation by ?ther division. Since then, Sewer division is our main source of information regarding Hyna.”

  “I see,” Hans said, folding his hands together.

  He wasn't overly surprised by this revelation. Unlike the other magic guilds, Hyna had no visible presence in the city. It had no guild seat that anyone knew of, and it did not get involved with city politics or engage in any sort of public interaction with the citizenry. From ?ther division's perspective, which dealt with guild politics more than anything else, it wasn't strange that they were considered a non-existent entity.

  “I take it you have no idea either, then?” Kell asked. It sounded like an accusation.

  Hans opened his hands apologetically, showing his palms. “I really can't say. But if I had to guess, taking into account how they operate, I would have to say that they had nothing to do with it.”

  “Why not?”

  “Hyna never acts in a straightforward manner,” Hans replied. “It prefers to achieve its goals through a thousand small, indirect actions rather than a few big and obvious ones.”

  He spoke the truth. For nineteen years, Hans had been part of Sewer division, and he never was able to pin anything on Hyna with absolute certainty. Evidence—if there was any to begin with—was always circumstantial at best. For that reason, many in the city believed that Hyna was a myth, or merely another criminal syndicate, rather than a magic guild.

  Raviel stroked his goatee. “I have to agree with Hans here. The whole reason so little is known about Hyna is because of its love for secrecy. Its magistrae never expose themselves. We don't even know who they are.”

  He stopped stroking and looked pensive for a moment. “In fact, I can't recall any significant event in the past in which their involvement was clearly indicated. It's all small stuff, like Hans said.”

  Hans nodded in agreement.

  “Maybe so,” Kell said. “But it might also be possible that we never noticed their major operations to begin with. This city holds plenty of mysteries the Whisper knows little or nothing about. Like the Pale Rat, to name an obvious one.”

  “True,” Raviel admitted, toying with a button on his tunic, rolling it between his fingers, “but that still leaves the problem of motive. I have never heard of any hostility between Hyna and White Candle. They're both magic guilds, but all similarity ends there. Why would they do such a thing? Not to mention that we still don't know what happened to the White Candle's magistrae. For all we know, they could all be fine.”

  That's unlikely, Hans thought. For a guild with their reputation, to needlessly create a stir like this? I can't see it.

  “You know better than that, Raviel,” Kell huffed in apparent agreement with Hans. “It has to be foul play. Be it by Hyna or someone else.”

  She fell silent and stared at the sheet of paper in front of her, before letting out a sigh.

  Raviel noticed her discomfort. “I take it there is a reason we are casting such a wide net?”

  Hans glanced back and forth between the two. The ease of their conversation and their skill in reading each other's body language made it clear the two of them had worked together for years. Makes me feel even more out of place.

  Kell closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. ”A reason, you ask. You mean, apart from an entire magic guild disappearing as if swallowed by the void? Yes, there is a reason.”

  “Is that reason why we are so desperately trying to pin this on a third party?”

  “Yes and no,” Kell said, sighing again. Her icy gaze vanished and was replaced by a weary look. She paused for a moment and picked up the paper in front of her as if to draw strength from it.

  “There's no avoiding it then,” she added in an undertone. “The other problem is that the King has given us five days to find out what happened and who is responsible. If we can't find anything, we are to assume White Candle inflicted this upon themselves.”

  “Five days came and went.” Raviel said. “What happens now then?”

  “Now, the King has ordered the remaining magic guilds to commence breaching the sanctum.”

  “That sounds reasonable.” Raviel glanced at Hans, who nodded in agreement. “Which guild will be granted the honour? The Daughters of Ashira? The Lyceum?”

  “Callium.”

  Hans shot up in his chair. “What?!” he exclaimed, shock clearly visible on his face. “By the ?ther, why?” he added, before regretting his outburst.

  “I must admit I feared you would say that,” Raviel reacted, in a far calmer tone. “Why Callium?”

  Kell narrowed her eyes at Raviel. “Politics. That's why.” Her voice dripped with disgust.

  Politics... Of course. Hans suddenly felt queasy. Callium was beloved by most people in Rios, but utterly despised by the select few who knew what the guild was really like. Callium was the least trustworthy and most power-hungry magic guild in the entire city. Its magisters had no morals and would gladly stab yesterday's ally in the back if they thought it would be more advantageous. However, as Callium managed its public image very carefully, few people knew about their true nature.

  Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

  “Some pretty dumb politics,” Raviel said drily. “I take it King Darych decided this himself?”

  “Of course. The best Grandmaster Lakrin could do was give us the five days.”

  Raviel smirked. “I understand now why you want to find a culprit so badly.”

  “Yes,” Kell said, “and as it's clear now that we have failed to find one, tomorrow, around noon, Luminary Yerwede will make a public announcement regarding the situation at the White Candle.”

  Raviel chortled. “Callium's archmagister himself is going to make the announcement? They're holding nothing back.” He clapped his hands together in mock applause. “Honestly, I'm amazed the other guilds agreed to this. The moment Callium enters that sanctum and finds it devoid of White Candle magistrae, it will pick the place clean.” He chortled again. “In fact, Callium will probably loot what it can regardless of who or what it finds inside.”

  Hans nodded in agreement. That's exactly what is going to happen. He also realized that this was good news. Now that the situation had been taken out of the Whisper's hands, perhaps his wish to be reassigned to Sewer division would be less of an issue.

  Kell remained silent. She opened her mouth several times, only to close it again. It was clear she had something else to say, but couldn't bring herself to articulate it.

  Her behaviour made Hans feel uncomfortable again. How does she do that? It's like she has the ability to radiate some kind of negative aura.

  Raviel seemed to share this concern about Kell's silence. “The other guilds did agree to it, right?” His usual casual smile had disappeared.

  Kell shook her head. “They did not. Both the Daughters of Ashira and the Lyceum have declared vendetta against Callium.”

  Declared vendetta? Hans had no idea what that meant, but, since Raviel's face had turned deadly serious, it was clearly not a good thing.

  “What's a vendetta?” Hans asked. He was fearful of the answer, but it was something he needed to know.

  “A public and lawful declaration of discord between guilds,” Raviel replied with a solemn voice. “Basically, it's a statement from a magic guild that it has been wronged by another guild, and will use any means at its disposal to right that wrong. Vendettas used to be common, until one caused the Second Rios M?lstrom over a hundred years ago.” He rubbed his face. “By the ?ther, I knew that relations between the guilds had deteriorated, but as far as this? What has Tillu's outfit been doing these past moons?”

  Hans didn't really hear the rest of Raviel's words, only focusing on the single dreaded one.

  M?lstrom.

  Regardless of who you were, where you lived or whether you were a channeller or not, everybody in the kingdom knew what a m?lstrom was: a phenomenon whereby the ?ther itself became so violent that the fabric of reality itself would twist and tear, leaving the world changed in ways that could not be imagined. As Raviel had said, the last one had occurred over an age ago, and that had been only a small one, leaving a mere quarter of the city devastated by its touch.

  It had lasted only seven days before dissipating, but the ghasts, demons, wraiths and other horrors formed during those days took several years to destroy. The reclamation of the affected area took even longer: twenty years, an entire generation.

  And he says a vendetta caused it? Hans suddenly had a better understanding of why the previous owner of the mansion they were in had chosen to leave the city.

  As Hans contemplated this new information, Kell retrieved a bottle of wine from a nearby cupboard and filled a glass. “There has always been a lot of bad blood between Callium and the Daughters of Ashira,” she said, turning back towards the table with the glass in her hand. “White Candle's magistrae frequently acted as mediators between them, smoothing things over.” A sad smile appeared on her face. “Of course, now that White Candle is the conflict, there won't be any mediation.”

  “What did the grandmaster say about this?” Raviel asked.

  “Grandmaster Lakrin is still considering our response, but one thing is certain...” She put the glass to her mouth and took a large gulp.

  “...we are going to be busy,” Raviel said, finishing her sentence.

  Kell turned towards Hans. “It's a good thing you were assigned to us when you were, because we are really going to need you in the coming days.”

  The comment made Hans' heart sink into his boots. So much for my reassignment.

  He realized that if he did not speak up now, he never would.

  “About that,” he said, his voice carrying more hesitation than he would like. “I actually meant to talk to you about my assignment here.”

  Kell raised an eyebrow. “What about it?”

  “I would like to request to return to Sewer division. I feel my particular skills do not match what ?ther division requires.”

  He had practised that sentence for the better part of the previous evening, yet it still failed to come out smoothly.

  Kell was astounded, and Hans could already see the blood rushing to her cheeks. She was about to start another of her icy stares and this time Hans would be the sole target.

  Raviel rapped his fingers on the table, drawing Kell's attention. “Before you go off on him, he's right. His training and background don't fit ?ther division at all. That much was clear to me after only a few days.”

  There was a moment of silence as Kell shifted her gaze between the two men. Finally she spoke. “Is this some kind of joke? Because I don't find it entertaining at all.”

  “I'm deadly serious,” Raviel said. “Especially in the light of vendetta being declared. The truth is that, at the moment, Hans simply does not have the proper training or experience to operate as a part of this outfit. Just now he didn't even know what a vendetta was; something that should be elementary.” He rubbed his chin. “In fact, if he hadn't brought this up just now, I would have done so myself.”

  Kell remained at a loss for words, so Raviel continued. “Look, I understand we are understaffed, but dragging in field agents from fundamentally different divisions isn't going to help us in the end. Why him, anyway?”

  Hans realized that he should have been insulted for being talked about like he wasn't there, but considering the fact that Kell was still visibly fuming, he was glad Raviel was taking the heat instead of him.

  “Do you know why you were assigned to me?” Kell asked Hans, her eyes shooting icy daggers.

  “I don't have a clue,” Hans answered. “I was told to report to you and that this reassignment would be permanent.”

  “Funny. I was told the exact same thing.”

  Hans failed to see how that was funny, yet he knew better than to ask.

  “Wait,” Raviel interjected. “The leadership just assigned him to us? You didn't pick him?”

  “I did not. They just told me to expect him.” She leaned back against the cupboard and crossed her arms, glass still in hand. The anger was draining from her eyes. “I just assumed he would be capable and only skimmed his personal records. I had planned to study them more closely, but then this whole thing at the White Candle happened…” Her voice trailed off. The whole sequence of events appeared to be getting to her.

  Hans was uncertain. Does this mean she will allow it or not? At the very least, Kell seemed agreeable to the notion that he wasn't the right person for the job.

  “So...” he began, carefully, “where does that leave me?”

  Kell opened her eyes and straightened up. “Exactly where you are.” She raised her hand to cut off any protest. “Raviel said that you are unsuited at the moment. That means you will become better suited later, correct?” She looked at Raviel.

  “Yes. That won't be a problem.” He smiled reassuringly.

  It won't? Hans was not convinced and did not hide it. “I understand ?ther division's need is urgent, but surely there are other, more suitable candidates who—”

  “There are none,” Kell cut him off. “Trust me. I've been begging the leadership for more personnel for over a year now. And regardless of my personal opinion, you were assigned to me by the leadership, which means that they have the final say. Take it up with them.” She finished the remaining wine in her glass in one gulp and placed it back on the sideboard. “We will plan the next operation when Ven gets back. He's currently digging marrows at the Keep, so I don't expect him until late this evening.”

  As she left the room, Hans slumped in his chair. Take it up with the leadership, she says. Easier said than done. Basically, he wasn't going to return to his little room in River's End any time soon.

  Sure, he could try to find out who assigned him to ?ther division, but going around pestering high ranking members during a serious crisis would not reflect well on him. Not to mention that whoever arranged for Hans to be reassigned would not be eager to reverse that decision.

  So, I'm going to be right in the middle of the most powerful magic guilds in the kingdom going to war against each other.

  The thought was far from comforting, but Hans realized that the only way forward was to adapt to his new post as swiftly as possible. His request to be reassigned could wait until the current crisis was resolved.

  If I live through it.

  Hans straightened up in his chair. “Raviel, how dangerous is this going to be?”

  Raviel shrugged. “I can't say for certain; it depends on how far the respective guilds are willing to go. The Callium Imperatus Schism happened less than forty years ago. Every magister or magistra who was involved in that mess will keep the spell-throwing part to a minimum, I assure you.”

  “Won't that old history make things worse instead?” Hans asked. “Old grudges have a habit of smouldering.”

  “True, but the narrowly avoided m?lstrom back then did at least put everyone on the same page with respect to the unrestrained use of magic.”

  Hans took note of Raviel's words. Narrowly avoided m?lstrom? During the Schism? That was the first he'd heard of it.

  Raviel noticed Hans' bewilderment. “Oh, right. You wouldn't know about that.” A mischievous smile crossed his lips. “Well, you are part of ?ther division now, so let's just say that during the Schism Rios almost suffered its third m?lstrom.”

  Hans reeled from that revelation. Even though he had been part of the Whisper for a long time, it would appear that many of its secrets were still hidden from him. Hearing about this particular one cast some significant historical events in a radically different light.

  “Was this m?lstrom the reason why the Royal Guard was reformed and given a mandate to keep watch over the city's magic guilds?” Hans asked.

  “It was. Although I must add that they had already been pressed into that task since the Weavers of the Wing's power and influence had diminished to almost nothing by the time of the Schism. It's no coincidence that the Weavers were disbanded eight years later.”

  Hans nodded. “I always found it strange that the reformation of the Royal Guard happened on the exact same day Chyn Kotia was forced to disband.”

  Raviel chuckled. “There is a reason for that as well, but I will keep that bit of information to myself for now.” He rose from his chair and walked towards a nearby bookshelf, running his hand over the spines. “Basically, what I'm saying is: while a vendetta is serious, don't expect spell-casting weavers to be rampaging through the streets any time soon. Apart from the threat of a m?lstrom, the legal particulars of a vendetta prevent that as well.”

  “How does that work, anyway?” Hans asked. He had difficulty grasping the concept of two magic guilds waging war against one another while abiding to a strict set of rules.

  Raviel shrugged. “All I know is that the laws dealing with vendetta are a complicated mess. The tomes containing them are bigger than this one.” Raviel grabbed a book as thick as his fist from a shelf and showed it to Hans before putting it back. “What it boils down to in effect is that a magic guild in the midst of a vendetta can do whatever the blaze it wants as long as the citizenry doesn't notice. Covert action only.”

  “Covert, like us.”

  “Now you're getting it. ?ther division is expected to deal with things like this first. Nonetheless, I must add that the Royal Guard will support us in this particular situation. They will take care of the dangerous parts.” Raviel paused for a moment. “Most of them, at least.”

  Hans took note. “Most, but not all.”

  Raviel nodded. “If I told you we are going to be perfectly safe, I would be lying.”

  Hans trembled. That doesn't sound comforting at all.

  “But make no mistake,” Raviel continued, “a magic guild can do plenty of damage even without the unrestrained use of magic.”

  “What happens now, then?” Hans asked. “If I'm going to be of any use, I will need more training.”

  “Indeed,” Raviel replied. “I was looking at the books here for something useful, but it seems that the owner of this mansion only possesses cheap romance novels, as well as several treatises on magic that you or I couldn't possibly hope to understand.” He chuckled and turned around to face Hans. “Look, I wouldn't worry about it too much. As long as you stick close to me, you'll be fine. You're the kind of guy who learns best by doing, right?”

  “I suppose.”

  “Most of the work we do is simple information gathering. Like the interviews we did with the servants of White Candle.”

  The servants. Hans remembered them. Especially the senior housekeeper. She had looked haunted, weaving back and forth between coherence and outright panic, and had repeated a particular phrase several times.

  Red is death.

  A shudder ran along Hans' spine. His work for Sewer division had placed him in life-threatening situations more than once. Yet the fear he had experienced during those events was very different from the abstract terror he had seen reflected in that woman's eyes.

  Raviel noticed Hans' worried expression. “Like I said, the Royal Guard will do all the really dangerous work that might be required. We won't be expected to go out and subdue a cadre of rampaging magistrae.”

  “That's good to hear. I found those interviews unsettling enough.”

  “I'm glad you feel that way,” Raviel said as he walked towards the window and looked at the White Candle in the distance. “A vendetta is a serious matter, but in my opinion it remains the lesser of the things that warrant our attention.” He pointed towards the gleaming white marble tower that shone serenely in the morning sun as if nothing bad had ever happened within its walls.

  Again, Hans felt a shiver run down his back.

  Raviel turned back to face Hans, his lips forming a tight and grim line. “I've been working for the Whisper for a long time now. And I can assure you that whatever happened in that tower will shape the coming days far more than the petty bickering of the other guilds.” His voice gained an ominous tone. “And I doubt that we are ready for it.”