I suggest we stop calling “magic” the “thing” that consumes the wastelands. After all, nothing there is made out of energy capable of giving life or creating something useful. The energy that consumes the wastelands and assassinates everything and everyone must be called “antimatter”, “anti-magic”, or simply “Destruction”. To call it magic is to tarnish the image of the most important thing in our world. For that purpose, we already have the magic of the incorporeal.

Excerpt from Armenvald’s proposal to the University of Argalya – 46th Convention of Mages

*

-My hands are shaking, Rinlia. - Yvanna's voice shows nervousness. Her eyes shine with wonder and curiosity as she gazes down at her trembling fingers. – Look at my hands. You see it? I'm literally shaking.

-Is it a good or a bad shaking? – The elf sits in a comfortable chair in the opposite corner of the room. She admires the image of the vampire, surrounded by servants who, just now, placed the dress on her body, using needles to mark future adjustments, testing different sewing patterns in key positions.

Yvanna sighs, facing the mirror, seeing Rinlia's image behind her through the reflection.

-I’d say it's a little bit of both. – She lowers her hands and looks at her reflection: Her slender, athletic figure has its lower covered by in layers of silk and zibeline, exhibiting the outline of her legs. The upper body, covered with lace and silk fabrics, has the same material going up to the shoulders, where, alone, the lace is thrown over the bare shoulders, extending until the hands. Behind her there is no dress train, as it was made separately and would be proven later. On a chair next to Rinlia was draped a veil of almost nonexistent opacity, short enough to allow a view of all the beauty of the dress and the model. – It has to be a mix of it. It couldn't be different. After all, even though I'm happy and looking forward to what's to come, it's hard not to feel nervous.

-It's what you always dreamed of, isn't it? To be a queen? – Rinlia smiles, admiring the bride. - That's what you've been telling me since we met.

-Still, I thought things would be... Different, you know?

The servants move carefully, avoiding piercing the bride's skin with the needles, despite the model's erratic movements – which was unnecessary, as the pain of a needle would not really bother the vampire.

-Different how?

-You know what I'm talking about. Njalmar has already sent emissaries to the Great Forest and has announced to the court his intentions to marry Nafaester. – She dismisses, with a wave of the hand, the girls around her. Only one of them stay in the room. – His resignation to the crown is already taken for granted, and that means that the pressure over Connor increases every day. This pressure will now belong to me too.

The last of the servants moves nimbly, removing the dress from the vampire's body without moving the markings made to adjust the sewing and the design. Even Yvanna couldn't have done it without assistance, given the number of marked spots.

-Is that why you're nervous? I thought it was a problem with something more specific. – The servant leaves and Rinlia, with irony, formulates her next sentence. – Or with the groom.

-Why would I have a problem with Connor?

Yvanna moves through the room and finally picks up a casual outfit that had been draped over a chair.

-I don’t know. Isn't that the problem? You don't care about Connor. Only with what he can help you achieve.

The vampire sighs.

-We've had this conversation before. I don't believe in passion or love. To me, there is only desire. And desire is something that doesn't have to exist in marriage. Not when more important things are at stake.

-Tell that to your shaking hands.

The vampire picks up the veil that was placed on the chair and sits down. She takes a second talking again.

-You're right. Maybe it's some instinct or just my subconscious. After all, as much as reason understands that some acts are devoid of reason, it's not always that our bodies obey it, right? – She gives the elf a suggestive look.

Are we still talking about your hands?

-Don't play dumb with me. I know very well how you have been spending your free time. And with whom. While I'm busy preparing the biggest event in Fiandel's recent history, you're routinely having fun with someone you really shouldn't mess around.

-Who told you that?

-My network of spies. – Yvanna smiles, but Rinlia's gaze propels her to continue. – Last time I was at your house, Valkyrie said something about Arthur's room frequently being empty recently. Don't worry, she didn't see anything. It just made it very easy for me to deduce the rest.

-He still has his room.

-It makes no difference. He's still someone dangerous and with an uncertain future. - The veil slips in her hand. With a quick movement, Yvanna picks it up and rests it on her legs. – Looks like we're more alike than I thought, huh?

-How so?

-We’re both uncertain about our attitudes for fear of making a wrong choice. Still, when I look into your eyes, I see that you have no intention of changing your attitude out of fear of failure.

Rinlia waves to her friend.

-That means you also have no intention of backing down, does it?

-Don’t laugh. - Despite the request, the thin red lips of the vampire also showed a smile. – While we laugh, what's in store for the future? My marriage to the Crown Prince in three days, my best friend is involved with the supposed destroyer of the world, and we are days away of a war between the greatest army in the world against the Oracle and the creatures under her command. How much more can we bear before the burden of existence becomes too heavy?

-Don't forget that, also, this kingdom will soon be under the command of the prince and, in the future, another war may break out between the people of this continent and the people who are preparing on the other side of the ocean.

*

-See that carriage? The white flag, with a five-leaf clover in the center? That's the flag of the Markav kingdom. Or Republic of Markav, which is what they call themselves.

Thiago showed to Arthur, Valquíria and Galaaz the various royal flags and symbols on the vehicles that circulated in the streets of Fiandel's capital towards the castle. Eminent figures from many countries came since dawn, bringing gifts and receiving accommodations in preparation for the upcoming wedding.

They had positioned themselves in a watchtower – courtesy of Thiago – and could avoid the crowd of onlookers who wanted to see the newcomers. And even though it was at a distance, they considered that a good way to spend their leisure time.

Arthur, who had been enjoying one of Guinevere's rare rest days, had accepted Galaaz's suggestion to distract Valkyrie for a few hours.

-And the other flag? The one under the flag with the clover? - Valkyrie asks, squinting to see the details on the fabric.

-See the image of the fig tree and the sparrow? – Thiago points. He used this opportunity to test his knowledge of heraldry. It was a subject he had recently tried to improve on. After all, he couldn't project his own social ascension if he didn't know those he could deal with in the future. Also, he desperately needed something to help him forget about the royal wedding. – In the past, there was the fig tree, symbol of the house of the Vaeraas; and the sparrow, symbol of the Janfiers; after the civil war, Markav became a republic and the assets confiscated after the decapitation of the family leaders were transferred to several idealizers of the revolutionary movements. Each one asked for something, but only one of them asked for the sparrow and the fig tree: Xaerfim Yaerande, the magician. He is currently second in command, just below the Chancellor. That's his family's flag.

-A curious way to revolutionize. - Arthur frowns, staring at the carriage that disappears around a curve between the stone buildings. Noticing Thiago's curious look, he adds: - In a revolution, the desire usually is to forget the legacy of those who you want to overthrow. Carrying a flag with two symbols of families he helped kill in the name of a revolution doesn't seem to help.

-It's not about forgetting. – Galaaz is the one who replies. From where he is, the lupine admires the crowd around the carriages that go up and down the cobblestone streets. Passersby seem to interest him far more than the important families locked in their carriages. – It's about remembering that those who were brought down are dead now. And when death is forgotten, then the oblivion you speak of will have been consolidated. And the sparrow and fig tree will take on a new meaning. Besides, in the meantime, the weight of the symbol helps in commercial transactions, commanding army troops, conquering prominent positions for family members and all sorts of values ​​attributed to heraldry.

Arthur agrees with a nod. Then, he smiles when he realizes who is teaching him notions about society.

-Sometimes I forget you're a wolf. - He says.

-And what does this have to do with anything?

The boy shrugs.

-I know that one! – Valquíria points to a carriage on the main street.

Her finger points to a white carriage, escorted by horse guards and several other carriages. It is easily the carriage with the largest escort of all. The number of soldiers and carriages makes room in the crowd, not allowing anyone to approach the central car. This one, adorned with lines of gold and with flag-bearers posted a few meters ahead and behind the carriage, displays banners with the design of a red phoenix.

-It's Vivre’s flag! - The girl exclaims. – Is the queen here? I want to see the queen! Mom said she is very powerful!

Valkyrie struggled, but she couldn't see inside the carriage. For one, the distance would not allow it; also, the carriage had no open windows, only a hatch that was completely closed.

Nevertheless, Arthur, after understanding who was passing in the street, would not risk being seen: he stepped back, positioning his body so that, from the street, it would not be possible to see him in the tower. In the same way, he couldn't see the march that was slowly making its way to the castle.

Galaaz and Thiago, by now both aware of Arthur's brief “adventure” in Vivre, exchange a look and scan the streets to see if there was any suspicious movement in the surroundings.

They found nothing. Valkyrie watched, enchanted, the carriage and the standards.

-We have to be careful where we go in the next few days. - Galaaz mutters, lying down beside Arthur. The boy sighs.

-I know. I will.

*

Ohana feels homesick. She misses everything about home.

Her callused hands that wield the bow and draw arrows allow her to miss the trees and leaves and fruits from the Great Forest. Her hands miss the warm embrace of her mother and her sister.

Her mouth, dry with thirst, misses the clear waters that ran in the rivers around the Glade.

The ears, cut by injuries and one of them with the eardrums damaged by an explosion, brings with it laments of the time when she heard the birds singing and the swaying of the ropes of the hammocks in which her companions slept, in the watch duty of the borders.

Her stomach, empty after days of scarcity of food, nostalgically remember the taste of succulent fruits and even the pine cones that, so abundant, rotted at the bottom of trees, scattered throughout the territory.

However, despite such feelings, she knows that “home” is synonymous with “duty”. And her duty is to fulfill the mission given by the Forest. To deliver the last of the messages. The one that needs to be delivered beyond Naeva's realm, the realm that seems to have been visited several lunar cycles ago.

This is the most dangerous message. The main reason she didn't allow her sister to be sent. The reason she volunteered to come to this continent.

The message that needs to be delivered at the end of the world.

-The village must be close! – Dan raises his voice above the loud noise of the gale that forces them to support their bodies on a rock. The strong winds seem to cut the skin. - We will get there soon if we keep this pace!

-Where's the convergence?! I don't feel the magical disturbance anymore!

-I don’t know! But I don't feel my magic disturbed either, so we'd better follow this way!

The dryad tightens her fingers around her bow. She regrets the absence of the soldiers they met weeks ago at the Naeva border. They were the ones who helped them get to the military camp and, after, guided them to the capital of Naeva. It had been a peaceful route, where they avoided the major dangers and were able to calmly proceed to the capital.

However, after that, they had to go alone. Ohana only revealed to Dan her final destination after confirming that he had, from the beginning, planned to follow a similar path. The “village at the end of the world” was a place that, in equal measure, was famous and feared among travelers.

Famous for being the last habitable village on the edge of the eastern continent, located on a small space between lands infested by magical convergences. And feared because no one even wanted to risk getting close to said convergences. Despite the very little widespread knowledge about these magical phenomena, fear and superstition were strong enough that few ventured into those lands.

And, for the fools who embarked on such an undertaking, superstition usually gave way to experience. And, contrary to what one would think, this only increased the fear.

-That way, we'll end up passing through the uninhabited lands. – Ohana says in a low voice, fearing to attract some creature, despite being alone with Dan in a dry and rocky environment, where it was possible to see everything.

-It's the safest route. – He says. – And yet, we will have to go through a convergence.

He shows her the area of ​​the map he held in his hands. There, the points of magical convergences were marked in vibrantly colored ink – courtesy of Naeva's soldiers.

-We need to go around it. – She points out an alternative route, passing through a range of mountains to the north. – We can pass through here.

-These are wastelands. – He indicates that, around the mountains, three convergences surrounded the terrain by the side closest to civilization. - This is the area where magic has consumed everything. This is where the destruction of the continent is advancing. If I have to choose a way to die, I’d rather die to the convergence.

The dryad sighs and lifts her head to the storm-blackened sky that seems to be approaching them. Acid rain. A constant in this uninhabited territory.

It seems that she could not avoid the convergences anymore. Since Naeva, she has had some close calls, but was able to go around it, nearly avoiding direct contact with its magic.

-I didn't have to go through this the last time I came here. – She says.

-Have you come to this place before? And chose to come again?

-You know that I didn’t have a choice. – She shrugs.

He rolls up the map and puts it in a bag at his waist.

-If you came a few years ago, that explains why the route was better. In recent years the devastated territories have increased and magic is consuming the continent. You… – He hesitates. – You'll probably see what I mean. Things are getting worse. It's the reason why migration has increased and armies are moving. Many villages have no choice but to abandon these lands. The “village at the end of the world” itself is changing locations frequently.

Ohana sighs, dissatisfied.

-How can anyone still live around here? – She mumbles.

-With the right dosage of madness. – Dan answers and she realizes that the phrase carries meaning for him. – Or if you don't know that there's a better choice.

-What does that mean?

The usual youthful smile is not on the young traveler’s face. The dryad frowns. It's the first time he seems upset.

-Let's set up camp. – It's the only answer he gives her. – The acid rain may damage our equipment and supplies. We can take the opportunity to rest and continue at night. What do you think? – He asks with a more casual tone.

The dryad shrugs and looks sideways, looking for the way to follow. All options look equally bad.

-This way. – Dan points a path towards a series of boulders. – Hopefully, we can find a cave before it starts to rain.

The dryad is about to follow him when she feels the ground tremble at her feet. Dan immediately stops and motions for her to stop walking too.

-No... – She mutters, sensing what could be about to attack them.

-Run towards the rocks. – Dan says, with his eyes wide open. – If we try to fight, we will die.

There's no time to ask how they were found. When the stone floor opens up, the enemy that emerges is exactly who Ohana suspected it could be: A worm at least five meters in diameter that launches itself out of the stones, looking for food on the surface.

And, now, Ohana misses the wet, soft earth of the Forest, from which no stone worms would emerge to try to eat her.

*

*