"This year's winners have decided between themselves which schools they want to contract with. Salem Moonglade, Winter Fortress! Syryn Nigh'hart, King Hill! Phillip Swan, Saint's moon!

When all was said and done, Syryn and Salem faced each other. "Let's meet at a quarter past 10. I have some work to attend to before that." Salem informed Syryn. Neither of the winners seemed particularly excited about winning.

On the other side of the arena, Rowan was having none of it. As if it wasn't already distressing enough losing Syryn Nigh'hart to King Hill, he would have to for the foreseeable future, drink the toxic sewage that Salem passed off as Potion.

"Rowan, your public image will crash if you don't wipe that scary frown off your face." Vincent nudged his friend's side when he caught sight of Rowan's dark look.

"Why does he think that King Hill is a better contract?" Rowan asked no one in particular.

"Doesn't matter, you can't force him to- OI Rowan! Where are you going?!"

"Congratulations young Syryn, we are excited to begin a partnership with you." The Head Magister of King Hill, Lord Peltner, vigorously shook Syryn's hand.

"Thank you." Syryn smiled politely, "I wish to study at King Hill. Can the contract be re-negotiated to deduct the fees for my younger brother and I?"

Lord Peltner's eyes went wide and he beamed at Syryn. "How marvellous! King Hill would be honoured to take in an accomplished student such as yourself. However, young Syryn, I'm afraid that our institution won't have much to add to your already high mastery of potions."

"It's no matter, Lord Peltner. I'd like to broaden my horizons and I believe that King Hill is where I can do just that." Syryn answered with an amiable smile.

"Very well then, we will have you and your brother on scholarship. Do not worry about the contract." Lord Peltner informed Syryn jovially. He was a likeable and portly middle-aged man, so very unlike what one would imagine from a person running one of the most prominent schools of magic.

"Alright then, sign here, here, and here." Syryn read through the simple contract and signed it at the appropriate places. When he added the last dot to his signature, the door of their private room was hastily flung open.

"Young Rowan! What brings you here?" Lord Peltner's greeting was enthusiastic and loud. Syryn put the quill in his hand aside and turned around, not quite believing that Rowan had come. He saw the blonde youth's gaze land on the signed contract.

Rowan froze at the door and then smiled at the Head Magister after letting out a resigned sigh.

"Lord Peltner, I came to congratulate you on acquiring the services of such a talented alchemist as Syryn." He smoothly lied. Rowan had come running to poach Syryn but he was already too late!

Syryn innocently watched them exchange pleasantries. He knew exactly what Rowan had come here for and it made him nostalgic. The Rowan of his past had nearly slipped into a deep coma after refusing the potions that were offered to him even though he had run out of tasty options. Rowan was like a child refusing to eat his vegetables.

After completing his formalities, Syryn stepped out and met with Alka, Magnus and Lucien who were waiting for him under a tree that grew purple flowers. Alka had been smiling at something Magnus had said while Lucien was lost in his thoughts watching the purple petals that drifted off the tree.

"Syryn congratulations." The plant mage was delighted for his friend.

"Let's go to the Drunk mermaid for a celebratory dinner tonight." Magnus flashed the both of them a lazy grin, "I've got a private room booked."

"Already? When did you get time to book a room at the Drunk Mermaid's of all places?" Syryn was surprised because this was an establishment that required more than just money to enter.

"Doesn't matter, we'll get late if we don't hurry," Magnus replied and gently pulled Lucien to his feet by the back of his collar. It reminded Syryn of how cats lifted their kittens. He covered a smile with his hand.

"Magnus, long time no see," Vincent called out as they were passing through the stone arch at the exit of Green Valley arena.

"Vince, where's your boyfriend?" Magnus lifted his brows in a leer.

"Tch! Rowan ran off like a hound chasing a bitch. I don't know where he is."

Syryn recognised Vincent. He had heard about Vincent from Rowan who had often told him tales about the man's daredevil shenanigans. Syryn also knew that Vincent would be killed on a rescue mission. His death would mark a black day for Rowan to whom Vincent was a brother and his most trusted friend.

"Chasing after the princess?" Magnus asked.

"Na, the princess has been moon-eyed over lover boy but he feigns blindness." Vincent stared up at the sky as if imploring the heavens to do something about Rowan. He then turned to Syryn.

"Siren, you're really amazing at potions aren't you? Rowan is smitten. I'm almost afraid for the princess." And Vincent laughed carelessly, not knowing how prophetic his words would be.

"It's Syryn, not Siren."

"All the same Sayren. Ah, there's lover boy."

Rowan was power walking towards them and he was being followed by a hoard of fangirls. The thousand-yard silent stare that he was giving Vincent spoke volumes about the pain that Rowan was in.

"Not again," Vincent swore under his breath. "See you later folks."

The two anti mages melted and disappeared into the crowd of people leaving the arena, a skill honed from many episodes of being stalked by their fans.

"So that's the guy you'll be up against," Magnus informed Syryn. "He may appear friendly and charming but don't let that face fool you, Rowan is ruthless in battle."

Syryn was quite aware, thank you very much. He had been on the receiving end of that ruthless beat down when Rowan had caught him terrorising some humans.

"What about Vincent?"

Magnus clapped a hand to Syryn's back. "All in good time Syryn. Let's explore Elysium tonight. I'll take you and Luci to the pool of stars."

At his appointed time, Syryn met Salem at the Red fox. "You're late." Salem was leaning with his back against the red bricks of the inn.

"I'm not late. You're too early." Syryn countered and held out a hand. "Ribbon first."

Salem arched a brow at Syryn. "If I didn't know better, I'd misconstrue your eagerness for a creep's desire for my personal item."

"You're the creep demanding to see behind my illusion."

"Fair enough," Salem replied wryly.

He pulled the crow-feather black ribbon out of his sleek blonde ponytail that shimmered in the moonlight. His hair was quite distracting to Syryn.

Syryn then palmed the soft ribbon and put it away in his satchel. "Let's go somewhere private." He pointed to the inside of Red fox with his thumb.

Rowan and Vincent were walking the streets of Elysium Mill in hoods that helped them blend in with the other night attendees of the market. They had come to the Red fox hoping to catch Syryn before he left. This was the first time that Vincent had seen his friend make an effort to chase someone! And it wasn't even a sexy woman but a scrawny twerp barely off his mother's milk.

"You'd think his potions could revive a dead man." He continued to grumble.

Rowan wouldn't find time to leave Winter Fortress for a few months so this was his only chance at convincing Syryn to make a deal with him. As much as he wanted to just turn around and pretend everything was fine, it wasn't. Salem would be the death of him if Rowan didn't do something about his situation.

However, he hadn't intended to eavesdrop on Salem's conversation with Syryn. Now Rowan was struck with a hint of curiosity for the secret that Salem was about to find out.