Chapter 363 - Masks (Patreon)

A/N: I had a lot of fun writing this chapter. I hope you enjoy it too! Some minor details may change when I re-read it the fourth time for Royal Road. But I wanted to get it out today. They said it couldn't be done, and yet, here we are. It's still Tuesday till I go to sleep XD

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Moonlight streamed through the balcony windows, tracing the edges of the room with cold threads.

The cloaked intruder sat at the kitchen table, a darker shape amid the shadows. A black coat and gloves covered every inch of skin, his hood concealing his features. From his frame and height, he appeared to be a man. A slight tilt of the head toward the entrance, the only movement he bothered to make.

How—

Kai stood frozen, the door closed at his back, room token in his frigid fingers. His senses failed to grasp the barest hint of the hooded figure despite what his eyes told him. Mana rushed beneath his skin with a tingle. Every fiber of his body tensed for action, barely contained. 

Hallowed Intuition’s silence held his hand—that, and the limp form on the stranger’s lap. Hobbes’ elusive presence pulsed lazily, no different from when he napped after overindulging on fish treats. 

Reaching for his familiar, Kai found the bond rebuffing every attempt to force his way through, impregnable and unyielding. The connection was sealed. His thoughts split in a dozen directions, urgency drowning the pounding of his heart.

How did Hobbes get caught? Poison? Magic? I can’t escape without him. If this man’s beyond Yellow, what are my odds against Green professions? Why did Hallowed Intuition send me no warning? 

Even now, the whispers barely stirred past a murmur. What kind of magic could smother the skill to such a degree?

Answers can wait. 

Ten quick heartbeats had passed since he shut the door. When at a disadvantage, he couldn’t afford to lose the initiative. Kai put the token in his pocket to free his hand, mouth dry. He swallowed. “What did you do to Hobbes?” His scratchy tone failed to hide his nerves.

The intruder turned to face him fully, chair creaking. His hood fell back to reveal an obsidian mask. Its surface shifted like smoke trapped in glass, slipping from attention. No mouth, no nose. The hollows for the eyes only revealed deeper shadows.

The man coldly regarded him, then his gaze lowered to the cat sprawled across his lap. “Your familiar is fine.” A gloved hand brushed through silvery fur. His voice came icy and flat, stripped of any accent—likely from a skill or enchantment. “He’ll wake in a few hours.”

He lifted Hobbes gently and set him on the table. Tiny paws twitched in the air, almost as proof. “I didn’t fancy chasing him if he blinked away. How did you bond with an Astra—“

Strike first. Gain the advantage.

Mana flooded his veins, wild and searing. Kai sprang forward. His boot struck the hardwood hard enough to emit an ominous creak. A gleaming sword flashed from his ring, firm in his grip, shadows already crawling up the blade to confuse his foe.

One slash.

That was all he needed.

Five meters separated them—the blink of an eye. The man would take an instant to free himself from his seat. It wouldn’t matter if he dodged. Already mid-swing, Kai shifted to reappear at the intruder’s back. 

He just needed to get close enough to Hobbes to—

A steel grip clamped around his throat the moment the hazy spatial glimmer cleared. Before he understood what’d happened, his back slammed against a wall. His head followed, rattling repeatedly against the unyielding plaster. 

His vision exploded in white. Air tore from his lungs in a ragged gasp, the metallic tang of blood sharp on his tongue. The sword clattered to the floor. His heels scraped the wall, toes reaching uselessly for purchase.

Fuck!

Bright spots swam before his eyes. Through his ringing ears, he tried to shift again. Icy tendrils lanced through his flesh, tearing the skill from his channels before it could form. Shivers wracked his body. Mana surged on instinct to repel the foreign essence, but the pressure on his throat spiked, shattering his focus. 

“Don’t,” the man said, with the same curt tone one might use to scold a disobedient puppy.

Kai tried to snap back, but had no breath to speak. His fingers clawed at the gloved hand, crushing his windpipe, nails scraping leather without the slightest give. Darkness crept in at the edges of his vision.

Shit.

Kai managed a nod—no more than a dip of his head.

The hand on his throat eased the pressure, lowering him until his toes found the floor. He coughed as sweet air burned down his lungs.

“I came for answers, but you don’t need all your limbs to give them,” the man said—apathetic, almost bored. “I won’t warn you a second time. Am I clear?”

Staring into the dark hollows of the mask close to his face, a chill coiled in his gut. A whisper put to rest any doubt Kai might have about the threat. “Y—Yes, clear,” he croaked.

The man studied him for interminable seconds before releasing his grip and returning to his seat, back exposed—unafraid of reprisal. Likely, he had no need to. His legs stretched beneath the table. Moonlight glinted off the silver rivets of his crossed black boots. 

He pointed to the chair across from him. “Sit.”

Kai rubbed his throat—sore but functioning. Could he blink out of the dorm before the man caught him? Failing the assault with surprise on his side didn’t vouch for his chances. Either the masked monster could predict where he’d reappear, or he was insanely fast. Perhaps both. Even if he somehow fled outside, Spatial Shift required a cooldown between casts to avoid injuring his channels, plenty of time for the man at Green to catch him.

Likely not early grade either.

Screaming for help? Where was Raelion’s famed security when you actually needed it?

Fucking useless.

Even if he managed to alert another student, then what? Kai couldn’t see it ending well. More importantly, he liked having all his limbs attached, and it would still leave Hobbes at the stranger’s mercy.

Why can I never catch a break?

Kai considered the three empty chairs and sank into the pointed seat. No need for provocations yet. His hands slowly reached over the table toward his familiar. The man watched him, but did nothing to stop him, letting him drag Hobbes toward his side. 

His familiar seemed to be peacefully snoring, little heart thrumming, showing no wounds or abnormalities. Kai stroked the silver coat. Holding the sleeping form, the silky fur beneath his fingers soothed his fears. If nothing else, they were a step closer to escaping together.

Does that make a difference? 

The masked man idly sat, less than a meter across from him. Did the silence mean Spatial Shift had surprised him more than he wanted to act? He wouldn’t have let him approach Hobbes if they had any chance to escape. For once, Kai didn’t think he was being underestimated.

Dammit, why me?

His thoughts swirled with possibilities. The approach seemed too roundabout for the dean. Had he stumbled into a patrician plot? A House he’d accidentally slighted? How many could afford to hire a Green emissary? Unless it was someone else entirely… the cult?

If it’s them, I’m already dead. Or worse…

Kai wrenched his thoughts away. Speculation could wait. He had too little information to reach concrete conclusions and needed his focus on surviving the present. 

A straight dagger with no decorations appeared in the man’s hand, its edge reflected a cold gleam in the faint luminescence. The alloy showed no mana; then again, neither did its owner. 

“Your hand,” he simply said. The other open gloved palm, waiting for him. 

So much for just talking.

Kai swallowed hard. Protests rose and died in his aching throat, the pulsing pain a reminder that his permission wasn’t strictly required. A guy had to pick his battles. He slowly extended his arm across the table.

“Seems you can learn.” The man caught his wrist before he could pull back. He spun the blade with a practiced grace Flynn aspired to reach. 

Get on with it. 

The tendons in his hand tensed like wires, testing his thin façade of control. Already braced to see a finger fly, or worse, Kai barely saw the edge nicking his thumb. He flinched, more from surprise than pain.

Just a graze.

A ruby bead welled on his skin.

Curses and dark rituals that required blood flooded his mind as the man swapped the dagger with an uncorked vial. Without the barest hint of mana, the ruby droplet fell into the clear solution. The masked intruder released his wrist and gave the glass a lazy swirl. His gloved finger flicked it twice—as the liquid turned unsurprisingly red.

I could have told you that.

Kai licked the cut, glaring at the faceless mask.

“Human,” the man grunted and made the vial vanish.

Huh?

He blinked—this was only getting weirder. “What else could I be?” 

“A changeling, shapeshifter, homunculus, or flesh puppet,” the man listed in a cold drawl. “Doesn’t look like biomancer work. Not one from this kingdom.”

Kai rubbed his neck, struggling to follow even half of what was said and feeling he understood less and less. “What—why would you care? And who are you?”

The obsidian hollows matched his stare. Then the man pointed at his head. “Clearly, I wear a mask so I can tell my name to the first brat who asks.”

You know… a simple no would’ve sufficed.

“What do you want?” Kai asked, ignoring the cold sweat plastering his shirt to his back. “I can’t help you if you tell me nothing.” 

“I’m not here to answer your questions.”

“What for then?”

Silence stretched, thick and deliberate. The man didn’t move, but his faceless stare cut deeper than any threat. “If you’re hoping to buy time for your roommates to return, they won’t. Not for an hour yet. Even if you somehow managed to alert someone, do you think that would help?”

Finding his throat hoarse and scratchy, Kai gave a stiff shake. “No.”

The obsidian mask tilted. “Don’t make me repeat myself. Who are you?”

“I’m Mat—”

“Matthew Reece Veernon, the secret son of a hermit alchemist who appeared from nowhere. The only people who can confirm his identity are either dead or unreachable. He never received a formal education, yet enrolled in Meria’s most prestigious academy. And appeared to be a skilled Space Warper as well…” The man finished with a sarcastic snort.

That’s me… totally normal stalker talk.

Kai suppressed the urge to bolt, striving to stay calm—as if being cornered by a Green grade in Realion’s dorms were an everyday occurrence. Unlike in battle, taking the initiative to speak could backfire. Every word was a clue. When he didn’t know his opponent’s goal, the less he said, the better.

Unbothered and unhurried, the masked man spoke first. “Who do you take orders from?”

“No one.”

“I’m not in the business of killing kids, nor do I entertain liars. Or waste time. Who provided you with a Space path?”

“I learned by myself.” His voice croaked. “I’m telling the truth.” He coughed in his hand, wishing for that infernal bird’s tweeting. How ironic would it be to die not for his secrets, but for the truth?

The man folded his arms, voice icily flat. “What is your father’s name?”

“My… Cyrus Veernon,” Kai said, painfully aware of the pause he took to recall. “He died.” 

Fuck.

No one at Raelion had cared about his background once they learned he wasn’t patrician, and Mnemonic Mastery only helped with information he’d bound with it. His thumb brushed over the band of his ring, rolling the smooth metal against his skin as panic wrenched his guts.

The pause stretched longer. A gloved hand lifted halfway across the table, the obsidian mask unmistakably angled toward his finger. “Where did you get that ring?”

“It’s mine. I…” He pulled it to his chest, hand curled into a fist. “Someone gave it to me.”

“Who?” The man asked, his lazy tone sharpened to a dangerous edge. “The one who owned that signet died years ago.”

…Elijah is dead? 

Kai wet his lips wordlessly, his mind in an even bigger storm. Thoughts tangled with each other, pressed by the frantic situation. The masked man demanded an answer, the steel dagger back in his hand, drawing blurred twirls.  

“Who gave it to you?” The voice dropped to a low growl. “Tell me everything. You may still walk away with all your limbs.”

“It was a gift.”

The blade halted in the man’s fist, the abrupt stillness somehow more terrifying, aided by the intensity of his gaze through the hollows. “A gift to Matthew Veernon?”

“It…” Kai began, his mouth dry as dust. What should he say? Truth and lies burned his throat raw. The Republic would never leave him in peace if they discovered he’d escaped the Sanctuary, but lying felt worse. The strewn pieces of the situation finally started to make sense. He could almost grasp the picture if only he had a little more time. 

“To Kai Tylenn.” His mouth moved before his head reached a conclusion. 

“That boy died over two years ago.” The man leaned against the table, fist clenched, dagger carving into the wood.

“He didn’t.” Kai met his faceless stare levelly. “I didn’t die. I just got… trapped.” He straightened in the chair, daring to deny the physical evidence. 

Reports of my demise have been greatly exaggerated. 

“How can you be him…”

“I am.” Kai spread his hand wide, weaving strands of mana around his fingers. “Water, Nature, Earth, Shadow and Space. If you knew about me, those are my major elements.”

“Affinities can be faked or built up,” the man cut back.

“Who’d even bother? But fine.” Kai reached into his ring, pulling out a leather-bound volume—Dora’s alchemy book—and a silver disk marred by hairline cracks. “I also have these. Though Fate Fulcrum broke…”

“Items can be stolen from a corpse.”

Damned stubborn. 

“I was born in Whiteshore. Moved to Greenside when I was five. My dad died that same year, stabbed during the famine. His murderer died two years later—”

“Kai died,” the man said through gritted teeth. “Likely killed because of his teachers.”

“Did you see the body?” Kai pinched his face, wincing. “Very much alive, see? As I was saying, when I was six, my mom and I went looking for a tutor. We found three teachers: a cackling witch, a kind auntie, and a very grouchy butler. My disappearance had nothing to do with any of them.”

“You’ll pay if you’re lying.” The words sounded no louder, yet they weighed on him with an almost physical pressure.

Kai could feel the blood pulsing in his veins, his heart hammering in his chest, almost deafening. “Lucky me, I’m not,” he rasped, forcing a grin. “I’m Kai.”

The man leaned back into the chair, the dagger quivering, stabbed in the table. “How can you be both Mat and Kai?” 

“A mage never reveals his secrets.”

A dry laugh slipped through the shifting mask. “That’s the kind of nonsense he would spout.” His gaze swept over him. “You’re far too tall, though.”

You fucking punk!

“I’ve grown! My height was always perfectly normal for my age.”

“You do have the same manners.”

“Yours have gotten worse,” Kai snapped, then sank in his seat. He dried his damp palm on his knees. It couldn’t be—yet it was… It did explain why Hallowed Intuition stayed so quiet. “Is it… is it really you?”

“You asked for me at the House of Echoes. A kid from the archipelago, matching the description of someone long dead. I had business in Meria, so I looked into it myself. I expected a trap or taunt.” A breath escaped him. “Never this.” 

Gloved fingers reached up to remove the mask. Like not a day had passed. The same pale skin, sharp features and cold blue eyes—Elijah.

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A/N: Fingers-crossed see you on Friday ;)