Viri reached for the small pile she’d sorted into that color. “Many of these are numbered ‘three,’ especially over the last six months. Before that, there were hardly any, maybe a couple eachyear—”
Thornton cut her off by saying, somewhat impatiently, “I told you not to worry about the filing code. That’s not your job.”
“What does the number three mean?” Viri pressed, unable to decipher the shorthand used in the reports. “What’s going missing?”
“Children,” Thornton said curtly. “And they’re onlyreportedas missing, not necessarilyactuallymissing or evenstillmissing. Every case has been followed up by the Nox, who either resolved it or ran out of leads.”
Viri gaped at him. “These are missingchildren?” Her voice was pitched higher than normal. “Allof them?”
The archivist shrugged, showing no sign of how disturbing the news was.
“Why haven’t you told the Hunters’ Guild?” Viri demanded. “If children are going missing, then it’s most likely reapers whoare—”
“It’s not reapers,” Thornton interrupted again, his tone still impatient but now condescending, too. “Reapers don’t steal children—they kill them. The reports in your hands are formissingchildren, notdeadchildren. Reapers leave bodies. You’re a hunter—you know that better than anyone.”
An image from last night flashed across Viri’s mind, the young boy who had been siphoned to death by the time she’d arrived in the cellar. He wasn’t the first child she’d found dead by the hands of a reaper, nor would he be the last. Everything Thornton had said was true—they abducted to kill, not to keep.
“And as I said before,” the archivist continued, “these cases have all been followed up by the Nox and, after investigation, deemed nonurgent. Most missing children are back with their families within hours of their disappearance. So you canstand down, Hunter Solace, and focus on the job you’re here to do.”
With that, he left again, and there was enough warning in his final words that Viri fought her urge to chase after him. Thornton was right about kids going missing all the time and panicking their parents, only to be found with their friends eating candy in the market district or exploring the uncharted tunnels of the undercity. Just because there were so many reports in the last six months, that didn’t mean anything nefarious was afoot. Indeed, given the piles of paperwork still to be sorted, the numbers could be similar to the previous years and Viri just hadn’t gotten to those cases yet.
Resolved to ignore her concerns, Viri continued sorting, and whenever she added a new red three to the growing pile, she told herself it was nothing to worry about. The Nox were good at their jobs, these cases were marked nonurgent for a reason—and if therewasanything troubling going on, then Darik and Meera would know about it, as would the rest of the hunters and Nox. Everything was fine.
But despite trying to convince herself, Viri’s instincts were screaming that something more was happening here.
She just didn’t know what.
The Journal of Celestial Mage Kadmus Castro
Forty-First Sun, Fifth Cycle, Twelfth Age
Elverdine Isle is beautiful.
I was told it would be—warned, in fact, about its splendor, and how easily it distracts from the danger all but humming in the air. It’s hard not to be enthralled, though, when half the island is covered in lush, verdant forests and the other half with rolling fields that lead to three majestic mountains rising high above the clearest lake I’ve ever seen. Even Zeranthe is impressed—something she grudgingly admitted as we circled the island upon our arrival, inspecting our new home from every angle.
The flight across the Ametrine Sea took eight hours, but my loyal companion’s wings never failed, her energy never waned, and while she remains cantankerous as always, I know she’s as eager as I am to begin our new lives here. She’s already found the perfect place to roost in one of the mountains with the other dragons, while I’ve settled in nicely to my lakeside cottage in the quaint township of Aravell, nestled at the base of the three peaks.
Magistratus Garrin Solace, elected leader of Elverdine’s inhabitants, welcomed me with open arms on my first day, telling me how honored they are to have a Mage Priest in residence. He’s a shallow, like everyone else who has ever lived on the isle—until recently—so I know his reverence is genuine. The few mages who arrived just before me, however…Much like on the mainland, my calling isn’t appreciated by my magical brethren here, who roll their eyes and openly scoff at me.
But no matter—I’m used to their mockery. Those who suffer scorn reap integrity. And besides, I didn’t come here for them. It’s the shallows who need me, having never had access to a Mage Priest before. Oh, thewonders they’ll experience at my hands. They’ll soon see for themselves the kind of power I can grant, especially with the first celestial event of the season on the horizon: a lunar eclipse. I’ll be performing a rite of blessing at the Midnight Festival, assuming my magic acclimatizes to the island in time—though that in itself is a peculiar uncertainty, something I’ve never had to navigate before.
Now that I’m here, I’m fascinated by how my ellixen is reacting to the raw power saturating the isle. It’s common knowledge that magic is alive, but it’s much more temperamental here than anywhere else I’ve ventured. Back on the mainland, magic is easier. It’s more flexible, more willing to please, more obedient. Here, it’s none of those things. It’s almost…wild. Today alone I nearly burned my cottage down when lighting my fireplace, while yesterday I could barely manage a spark, my ellixen resisting me at every turn.
I was warned this would be the case. It’s the reason mages have avoided visiting Elverdine over the ages, and never before lived here. The magic…it’s volatile.Dangerous. Until recently, no one understood why, just that it wasn’t safe for us. But now we have an answer: Somewhere on this isle is a lost Hallow Stream. It’s astounding—for so long we believed there were only two sacred pools fueling our world with magic, when really there werethree. The scholar mages were in raptures when they translated the Elder texts unveiling the third’s existence, all of them desperate to travel here, find it, and study it, risks be damned.
And therearerisks. The two other Hallow Streams are both on the mainland and surrounded by natural wards that protect the populace, but the one here…there’s no barrier between us and the ellixen flooding out of it, nothing forcing all that power to submit to our demands.
The magic—it’s so strong I can almosttasteit. I can’t yet tell if it’s playful or spiteful, if it wants to help or to hurt. What Icantell is that it’s intoxicating, perilously so. Mages throughout history have been right to avoid this place, even to fear it, because that kind of power…if there were ever a way to tap into it, tocontrolit…
To yield to such temptation would only end in death.
I, however, am unconcerned, since I have no intention of risking my life over anything as meaningless as a lust for more magic. I’m here for one reason: to act as a representative of the Celestial Order—chosen by His Eminence, the Celestial Mage Lord himself—to offer my services as a Mage Priest to the shallows. I will enlighten them. I will empower them. And they will love me for it.
Unfortunately, as the only celestial mage willing to travel here, I find myself alone in having to tolerate the rest of my brethren arriving from the mainland—not just the scholar mages fixated on finding the Hallow Stream, but also the fabricator mages, enchanter mages, elemental mages, healer mages, augmenter mages, and many others, all with grand ideas for the isle’s evolution, including expanding the tranquil town into an elaborate city. Part of me loathes their arrogant supremacy, but…while I might not like the domineering ways they utilize their magic, even I can acknowledge that our being here will improve life for the shallows. The things we can do…It’s a simple fact that we mages are the superior species. Magistratus Garrin accepts this, as do many of his people. They are grateful for our appropriation of their isle and eager to see how we can help them advance. As for the rest of Elverdine’s inhabitants…well, the sooner they accept us, the happier they’ll be.
And for their sake—andmine—at least there are no alchemist mages here yet, with their inquisitive minds and reckless experiments. Elders help us all when one ofthemarrives. I know it’s only a matter of time—the raw magic of the Hallow Stream will be too great a temptation for them to resist, along with the intrigue of this new land and its people. I can attest to that myself.
One thing is sure: Elverdine Isle is a blank page, full of uncertainty—and overflowing with opportunity.
