Chapter 59: Shadows Over Magus
The spires of High Magus pierced the sky like obsidian needles—cold, pristine, and blasphemously perfect.
Jean stood at the edge of the city's outer ward, cloaked beneath a neutral sigil and flanked by only Iriah and a single Envoy. Whitney remained in the hills beyond, hidden by snow and mist—his presence too bold for a realm ruled by magic and suspicion.
The Luther heir had not come to provoke.
She had come to observe.
Rumors whispered through the wind: Erin Magus had gone unseen for weeks. Mage Corps patrols had tightened. And Ryan Magus, her brilliant but reclusive son, had taken the reins in her absence.
Something was wrong.
And Jean could feel it in her aura.
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They found him in the upper chamber of the Ivory Tower—lean, pale, and draped in crimson robes threaded with glyphs. Ryan Magus looked up from a swirling projection of fire and storm.
> "Jean Luther. Or should I say… Patriarch."
Jean's gaze didn't falter.
> "I came to speak with Erin."
> "My mother," Ryan replied, "is… unwell. Or so they say."
Jean noticed the crack in his voice. The flicker of fear behind his curiosity.
> "Where is she?"
> "Gone," he said softly. "Into the Sanctum of Echoes. Seeking answers from what lies beyond."
He paused.
> "Since she returned from the western expanse."
Jean stepped closer.
> "She saw them, didn't she?"
> "The sky burned," Ryan whispered. "And the stars screamed. We thought they were visions. Madness."
He looked up, eyes shimmering with raw magical strain.
> "But they are real. The dragons stir beneath the crust of the world. The oldest ones… they speak through dreams now."
Jean's hand tightened on Eclipsion's hilt.
> "Antares."
Ryan nodded. "And something darker. Something below even him."
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They left High Magus with heavy silence in their wake.
Jean said little as they crossed the frozen ridgelines. Iriah glanced sideways at her.
> "You believe him?"
> "Every word," Jean replied. "And more than that… I think Erin never came back."
Whitney met them at the pass, growling low.
A storm was coming.
Not one of kingdoms or pride—but of gods, dragons, and ancient things that had no name in any tongue.
Jean looked to the horizon.
And whispered to herself.
> "Light protect us all."
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