"As I have said — that situation was an exception. There exist beings that cannot be traced, or that have been deliberately concealed. Magic is not, and has never been, wholly omnipotent."
Seated upon her throne, Serie exhaled a slow breath. It was the only answer she could give to Yuna's question.
When she saw Yuna fall silent and lower her head, Serie's brow furrowed, just slightly.
"Do not do anything foolish. If your Mana runs out of control again, there will be no one to save you a second time. If you are dissatisfied with the outcome, I can make an exception and give you another magic."
"No — that won't be necessary."
Yuna snapped her head up, eyes shimmering with a faint light, holding her voice in careful check.
"It was simply bad luck. Lady Nanoda is a special existence… She is certainly — certainly still in this world!"
Hearing Yuna's answer — so guileless, so childlike in its conviction — Serie's brows drew together with increasing depth, and a vague, inexplicable irritation stirred within her.
She struck the armrest with her palm, and her voice rose a measure above its usual tone. "Enough. Do as you please — but if you mean to go looking for this Nanoda of yours, then get out of my Association. This is not your home!"
Serie felt she had already shown this child more than sufficient kindness.
"You are right. I am sorry, Lady Serie — I have let myself lose composure. I really ought to be on my way."
Yuna managed a small smile. "Thank you for your care these past days, Lady Serie."
She gave a slight bow, then turned and walked away.
In truth, Serie could see it plainly: Yuna was strong. But at this moment, the loss and grief within her had grown to something that quietly exceeded that strength. Even so, Yuna kept her face set in an expression that still held the shape of hope.
Serie thought to say another word or two to her — but found she did not know what to say. She simply watched in silence as Yuna turned and walked away, one step at a time.
Tap. Tap.
"Kh — hm…"
From nearby came the sound of an aged cough. Yuna passed a hunched old man who walked with a staff, but she paid him no mind — only dragged her somewhat heavy body onward, lifting one foot after the other, and left.
With a low creak, the great doors swung shut. Upon her throne, Serie narrowed her eyes.
She had just seen one nuisance off. Now another had arrived.
Wrapped in a black robe, his frame already growing slightly stooped, the old man raised his head. Two sharp gazes refracted from the shadow of the cowl. The dark wooden staff struck the floor with a resounding clang.
A brief silence settled over the great hall.
Serie had just begun to open her mouth when the black-robed elder dropped to one knee before she could speak. His aged voice echoed through the vast, empty hall.
"It has been a long time, Lady Serie. You are exactly as you were."
Wilhelm removed his hood, revealing that weathered, ancient face.
"This Mana… I did not expect that when we met again, you would look like this."
"People age faster than one imagines."
Facing Serie — serene upon her throne yet radiating an effortless authority — Wilhelm gave a bitter smile. The knee he had pressed to the stone ached all the way through his old bones, and though he straightened his back as best he could, he did not rise.
"Hah." Serie let out a slow breath.
"After all this time, you haven't come to re-enter the Association, have you? Or is there something else you want?"
She paused, then continued: "The path you walk was chosen by your own hand. Everything that followed has nothing to do with me. Whatever you ask, I will not agree."
"This will likely be the last time this old man… the last time I appear before you. I ask only that you hear me out for a moment."
Wilhelm paid no heed to Serie's tone. Undeterred, he pressed on with the shameless composure of a man grown old in the world.
"My proposal would also benefit the advancement of magic among Humans."
With that said, Wilhelm waited.
At the latter half of those words, Serie's brow lifted — just slightly — and she considered in silence for a moment.
"Go on then," said Serie, and she relented.
Wilhelm, too, let out a quiet breath of relief, and continued on his half-kneeling knee to speak his request.
"I ask that you do not intervene in the wars that are to come."
As though afraid Serie might not hear him clearly, Wilhelm spoke slowly, his resonant and weathered voice carrying through the great hall.
"Wars?"
"Indeed — but not a war between Humans and the Demon Race. A war between Humans and Humans."
"I ask only that you do nothing at all."
Serie gave no answer — as though waiting for the explanation to follow.
And so Wilhelm told it to her, unhurried and in full.
"The nations of the Southern Lands revere the Goddess's Order. The Northern Empire, for its part, is hostile to magic and Mages alike. The Demon King who divided Humanity is long dead — and yet the world has only grown more fractured in his absence.
Was it not precisely to secure the standing of Mages and the spread of magic that you founded the Continental Magic Association and the magic city of Vasastre?"
Upon her throne, Serie gave a small nod, and did not deny it.
"For the world to be reunified — to put an end to the scheming and factionalism among the various powers of Humanity, to restore the prosperity of the age of the Unified Empire, to make magic the common tongue of civilization — this war is unavoidable.
And consider this: the era of war against the Demon King's Army was also the era in which Human magic advanced most rapidly.
In those days, did you not quietly permit the wars to unfold as they would?
Then — if Humans were to war against Humans — what would become of magic? How would it change and grow?"
Beneath the skin mapped with wrinkles, Wilhelm's eyes held a quiet gleam. As his words unfolded, the expression on Serie's face, upon her throne, grew gradually more serious.
"Wilhelm — since when did your tongue grow so persuasive? For the advancement of magic… what is your true purpose?"
"As expected of Lady Serie… I do indeed have my own purpose. But it is something rather mundane — leave that aside for now. My proposal ought, in truth, to be workable."
"And if I refuse?"
"…"
At that, Wilhelm fell silent. Then, the next moment, he pressed upon his staff and slowly rose to his feet — and levelled the head of the staff directly at Serie, enthroned before him.
"Wagering this old life of mine, which has not long left to run — I will endeavour to make you agree."
Knowing full well that Serie was in all likelihood testing him, Wilhelm had still prepared for the worst. The Mana he had kept restrained began to bleed from him in earnest.
Serie had not seen a Human of such calibre in a very long time.
Watching old Wilhelm with his posture bristling and taut — looking for all the world as though he truly meant to go to war with her — Serie laughed, suddenly.
"Ha. It seems you truly have grown considerably… Very well. I give you my word: I will grant your request."
Hearing Serie's assent, the tension drained from Wilhelm in an instant. He knew better than anyone the depths of her power — it had taken every measure of courage he possessed to level that staff at her.
"My deepest gratitude."
Wilhelm's voice was unsteady with something that was almost relief, threaded through with a faint tremor.
"Now go — before I change my mind."
Serie waved a slender arm, her impatience plain.
Formidable as she was — a creature of ten thousand years, an ancient thing beyond all reckoning — even she would not lie to a human child of seventy or eighty.
And at that very moment, Yuna, having left the Continental Magic Association, arrived at the coaching inn of the magic city of Vasastre.
Her spirits somewhat low, she had made her way there intending to hire a carriage and return to the free city of Gaderia.
But when she reached into her pocket, she found it utterly empty.
The coins she had brought from Gaderia — she had spent every last one?!
Was she to go back and borrow money from Serie, who had only just driven her out?
Yuna shook her head rapidly, her braided plaits swinging back and forth.
____
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🔥 New history: Path of Elation in Warhammer 40K
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