(A/N - I hope this chapter finds you all well! Please review and follow if you enjoy!)


The circlet of silver that had been haphazardly placed upon Otabek's damp hair shifted as he walked, causing the young man to have to reach up to adjust it. The green gem placed in the center of his forehead dangled from the simple, yet elegantly designed vines of silver; a mage's circlet. The moon Goddess' symbol lay atop the gem, etched with the care and skill that only a royal goldsmith could muster. The booming voice of the woman currently in charge of announcing guests to the King sounded in the grand throne room as the massive, ornate double doors swung open for Otabek and his trusted guard. "The royal mage Altin and his fair guard Ivanov!" She called, strong voice echoing. Her crimson velvet belled sleeve bellowed around her arm as she beckoned them inside.

Otabek took the lead with his guard close behind on his right side as was appropriate. "My King," he said as he reached the foot of the throne, quickly lowering himself to one knee, Anya following him down fluidly. A hand clad in a lamb skin glove crossed his heart and his head lowered in mandated respect.

A soft laugh echoed in the hall as the blue eyed man upon the violet velvets before Otabek leaned forward. "Otabek, you've never been great at entries. You're late you know?"

Otabek bit back a smart retort and lifted his head with a smile to his superior. "My apologies, King. I found myself waking up late this morning. I've no excuse to keep you waiting." Somehow his voice sounded rebellious, despite his attempt at apologetic sincerity. "Perhaps I was awake too late last night, my King. Rest assured, I will never permit it again."

"See that you don't," the proud voice said, waving a hand at the mage. "Now for why I called you," he said, reaching up with a golden ring covered to correct an unseen flaw to his carefully manicured black hair. "You recall your overwhelming failure eight years ago when my father sent you to capture a fae in the North? You will go again. My father seems to think you're capable now to take on something of that magnitude, and though I politely disagree with him, I'll communicate his will. Upon your successful return you will be graduated to a full Magister. If you return successful, that is," the cocky, mocking tone was clear. "I've selected your team for you as well. Four guard, one second assistant Magister."

Otabek stood suddenly, an indignant look on his handsome features. "Prince Jean-Jacques!" He exclaimed only to be firmly elbowed in the calf by the strong woman who still knelt beside him. "I-I mean, my King Leroy, this creature is beyond such a small force! This assignment is suicide! I must protest!"

The royal's eyes blinked, a thick brow raising. "You disrespect me!" He said loudly, eyes narrowing. "You should thank the Gods that I don't have you sent in custody by your own guard right now!" The threat made Otabek's chestnut orbs flicker back at Anya with worry. He knew very well she would have to follow those orders if they were given. "You are lucky that I am so forgiving! See that it never happens again!" He said, glowering at the other with unfriendly blue eyes. "I will be frank; I have never liked you, first assistant Magister Altin. I don't believe in taking back failures. I would sooner see you left penniless on the streets than have you before me today. My father disagrees, much to your benefit. You will complete this mission, and you will complete it on my terms or you will not return! You and your sniveling parents can just return to that dirt farm in God knows where! Get out of my sight! You leave immediately. Your men are waiting."

Otabek's face turned a dark shade of crimson in his rage. His fists shook at his side as his parents were mentioned; the same parents he had not seen in well over a decade because of his position. Anger shook his voice as he spoke, "Yes, your Majesty. I will not fail. I will return with the fae for your father." Another lapse in etiquette would not result in a favorable outcome for him, he knew. He bowed deeply once more, trying to control his breathing. Quickly, Otabek stood, turning on his heel and exiting the royal hall with haste, Anya close behind.

Once out of earshot she cleared her throat to speak. "You have a spirit to you, cousin!" She said, clapping a hand to his back as they moved towards the preparation room where both knew from practice would hold their supplies and men. "I admire your bravery, but be careful. You do not benefit anyone with your head lopped." This was her attempt at cheering him, Otabek knew, to which he gave a grateful nod. Anya sighed. "Your power is beyond tenfold what it was. I believe that you will capture this creature this time, with or without a full complement of men."

Otabek raised a hand to rip off the circlet, grunting. "I… appreciate what you're doing right now. But please, allow me this anger. That faerie has had as much time as I to grow more powerful, we do not have any idea what we will be walking into. This could be a bloodbath and he is just sending us to it with a smile!"

Anya's expression dropped with a sigh. "I know that. But I also know that you will do everything you can to ensure these men their lives. You are not a fool, Otabek. I've been your guard since you came here as a child. I know you as only a parent would. Allow this old woman her pride in her pupil. Besides… You know I have no children. You're the closest I have. I will fight with you to the end, my first assistant Magister," Anya's sincere and unexpected words stirred Otabek's chest.

"A-Anya…" he whispered, looking over to her with concerned eyes. "Don't… talk like that. You make it sound like you'd die for me."

"That is my job, Otabek," she said, chuckling at the younger. "Both as friend and as professional, my job is to be your sword and shield. You know that."

Otabek shifted uncomfortably in his surcoat, his heart fluttering. Of course this woman had been like a mother to him, he had known only her for comfort since his ninth birthday when he had been taken from his birth mother. Never had Otabek expected this conversation to come between them, however. He had been taken off guard and was not sure how to handle his remarks to her. Finally he settled for honesty. "Anya, you know I care for you… I'd prefer that you… if we ever are in that situation, I prefer that you live. Do you understand me? I'm not repeating this." His voice was firm and steady but hushed. "I will do what I can to prevent that choice from ever coming to you though. Believe me about that. I know I can't trust you to settle on the direction I want."

The older woman's face flushed. "Oh shut your mouth, child! You sound like I am dying as we speak! I'm not dead yet, this old woman has a lot more fight in her!" A smack to the back of his head made Otabek laugh as they walked through the open doors to the preparation room.

Awaiting them, three guard and a single mage wearing a yellow surcoat that marked her as a second assistant Magister. Otabek strode forward at once and clapped her on both shoulders with a smile. "Well met, cousin!" He said with a hearty voice, an attempt at encouraging the nervous young woman whose age could not be more than thirteen. "You are to be my assistant, so might I ask your name? You must be new to the hall, I have not seen you." While he conversed with the young girl, Anya greeted her fellow guard, speaking with a proud voice that showed her stature and years.

"Oh! W-Well met!" The young dark-haired girl smiled, unsure of herself as she raised a hand to the man before her. She was a tall young woman, Otabek noticed, standing nearly an inch above him at her age. Though, Otabek knew that he was fairly short so perhaps it was giving her too much credit. "My name is Valeria, cousin Altin! I arrived last year, though because of our separate classes I suspect you would never have noticed." Her nerves showed in her stiff posture, making Otabek curious.

The mage retracted his hands from her narrow shoulders and smiled. "Well I apologize for not introducing myself sooner. I am first assistant Magister Otabek Altin. I specialize in elemental and spellsinging magics. What do you specialize in? I must know in order to utilize you properly."

"I-I'm a summoner and tongue speaker," she said, blushing furiously as this admission. Otabek blinked, impressed. Summoning magic was powerful indeed, though tongue speaking was fairly common amongst the magically inclined. "I'm not very good right now! But I can work my magic on many animals. I've not successfully summoned an elemental creature like a howl, but I can summon wild dogs and what have. I communicate effectively with them."

Otabek smiled wide. "Very good! A summoner! That is a valuable skill for this mission!" He said genuinely. "I expect you will find this job quite useful to developing your skills. And you're a speaker? That is always a useful skill to all mages."

Valeria's face turned down at that. She decided to explain. "I seem to understand most dialects of fae, elf, and dwarf. I lack fluency in merfolk languages but I understand well. I also can communicate well with animals, as most mages." Her pale fingers fidgeted with the yellow bandolier strung across the swell of her chest. "I was selected for this mission because of my proficiency in the fae languages, I was told."

Another polite look of surprise crossed Otabek's features. "You speak various mythical languages! That is a skill worth having!" He said, "I was wondering why you mentioned speaking, as it's common, but I see now. That is unusual, your ability. I know a bit of elvish myself, I know how hard that is to learn. Mae g'ovannen!*"

"I faer nîn linna nan glass, hîr vuin! Mae g'ovannen!**" She spoke with excitement, green eyes finally showing something other than a timid interest.

Otabek smiled and nodded, a bit embarrassed by her formality. "Very good. You have virtually no accent! One could confuse you for…" he paused, finally noticing the slight points peeking out from her midnight-colored hair, just under the silver mage circlet she wore. "Ah! Excuse me, I didn't notice…" he said, laughing with the slightest but of nervousness. "You are an Elven child… You must think my accent is atrocious."

Color returned to the pale cheeks of the girl. "Only half," she corrected, drawing a self conscious hand to her right ear. "I was raised by my human mother, though. I never was raised by my father, whose blood allows me this magic. My mother tells me he was just a common wood elf. She says I have his hair…"

A confused look crossed Otabek's eyes before he shook his head. "All are welcome here. Don't worry, I hate people who discriminate so just tell me if anyone gives you trouble for your lineage." It made sense now why this child seemed so nervous. Otabek had seen how half-bred beings could be treated, even within the palace walls. Sometimes particularly within the palace walls. He turned sharply, clearing his throat. "Regardless, we are due to leave, I see our horses are prepared." Otabek cast a glance to the door that led to the outside. There stood a rather broad man whose clothing marked him as a stable hand. The man nodded in affirmation.

Otabek raised his voice, speaking to all of his men. "We are leaving, as you know, for the Northern forest. We are to capture a young blond-haired, green-eyed fae that resides there. If you all follow my direction exactly, you will return unscathed. We are to leave at once, so if anyone has anything they've left behind, I suggest you think of it now," Otabek paused, glancing around to see his staff standing tall and ready. A smile crossed his lips as he returned the circlet to his brow. "Very well then. We leave now."


*"Mae g'ovannen!" – Sindarin Elvish for "Well met!" Or literally, "You are well met!"

**"I faer nîn linna nan glass, hîr vuin! Mae g'ovannen!" – Sindarin Elvish for "Thank you from my heart, my Lord! Well Met!" Or literally, "My soul sings with joy, my Lord! You are well met!"