Irwyn recoiled as the vision faded, thoughts coursing through his head. Snippets of magic so beyond his comprehension just a shadow of its image caused him a headache. Old feelings that were his but also were not. Just the sheer scope of the senses he never had yet suddenly lost made him dizzy.

But first among those was the warmth. It was neither light nor flame but right in between. Simultaneously more and also less than the sum of the parts in many ways. It was…

“Starfire,” the word escaped his lips and felt just right as it rolled off of his tongue. A flicker of it ignited in his palm and for a moment he just stared at it. He had always felt an affinity to light and flame but now realised that those were just the side effects of this. Controlling the Starfire was so much easier. And perhaps that was not just because his talent with it was better. He felt overall far more capable of controlling magic; to what extent he would need to test extensively.

Then he registered the constant shaking and insistent stage whispers right into his ear. It was Rainer who at that point looked rather nervous.

“Sorry,” Irwyn whispered back. “Something just… whatever, how long was I out for?”

“Almost 15 minutes. What happened to you and the item?”

“The item?” Irwyn looked down and almost cursed. The crystal was gone. The reason why they had thought it might be some kind of consumable thing was that someone had overheard that the mages were explicitly not allowed to try using it. Now Irwyn confirmed why; it was single usage. He tried to feel for it in the surroundings but it wasn’t anywhere. He had unconsciously absorbed it through the vision, or something along those lines. “I think it is gone. We should leave first, I need to wrap my head around what actually happened.”

That being said, Irwyn returned to the awareness of where they were and what they were doing. So he reached out with his senses again and immediately noticed two things: Firstly, the area in which he could feel magic had expanded greatly, perhaps half as far further away then it was just earlier in the day; Far further before his ability to sense things grew too unfocused to actually pick up anything meaningful. The second thing was a cluster of probably 5 casters headed in their exact direction, one suspiciously familiar.

He immediately dragged Rainer to the hole they had entered through, making sure that the original caster was still very much bound and helpless, and tapped on Maxim’s shoulder. That also caused Waylan to make his appearance from a nearby dark corner.

“The item is gone, we are made, multiple casters after us,” he whispered, thankfully no regular guards had come by in the meantime. “Maxim, you blend in and get out when you can. Keep in mind they might have been told. The rest of us are coming out straight that way and preparing for a chase,” the casters were getting closer every second. Soon enough they would be at the warehouse.

“That be a wall, Irw,” Waylan chuckled.

“Did I stutter?” Irwyn said and ran into the wall, directly opposite to where the casters were coming from, summoning that newly acquired Starfire. He found it almost disturbingly easy to infuse them with the intention of burning through the walls. An ability that had mostly eluded unless he was facing death had suddenly become a benign challenge. The walls evaporated in a moment, even the removing the heat so that Waylan and Rainer could run through immediately was instantenious.

“Didn’t ya say ya couldn' do dis shit wen we planned?” Waylan caught up first.

“That was before,” Irwyn said, considering between saving his breath for the upcoming dash and explaining. “The artifact, I think, is something that makes a caster stronger. Once.”

“Just for a while or…”

“I do not think this can be taken away. At least not the important parts,” Irwyn kept burning through the walls as fast as they could jog. He really hoped there would not be anyone behind any of them because as much as he would hate to hurt any bystanders he refused to put their lives at risk by getting through slowly and carefully. One of them got a bit close, standing on the other side of a long corridor as they ran through, he was stunned for a moment by the bright flash of light but by the time he got to run after them they were already a good bit ahead. It did not take them even a full minute to burst out of the building into the night street. That was not much comfort though as the casters clearly noticed and sped up significantly. Irwyn raised his hand and shot a beam of light into the night sky, it formed a specific arrangement of dots and lines, which Kalista on standby would interpret as ‘do not help, get the hell away’.

The trio broke into a sprint. A few seconds later he was on the brink of losing control of that signal magic so he tried to make it explode as bright light right in the direction of their pursuers though it did not seem to have any effect.

They needed to get off of Road street as soon as possible, the night traffic wasn’t much, however, the recent de-facto war between the city and desperate gangs meant guards were everywhere and on alert, especially near a place like this. Irwyn could already see a dozen appearing and heading towards them.

He blinded those blocking the way or particularly fast with bright rays of light but just the mental strain was already making him sweat. There were so many and each was a moving target. And the casters behind them were getting closer despite them running at top speed. They could not outrun, they needed to somehow hide. But the streets were swarming, if he were to lead the casters away right now he was not sure Rainer could get away. Waylan probably could but this did not line up with what Rainer was good at. He and Irwyn were already wheezing. But if he waited there would not be time for himself to flee. A plan of a sort formed in his head, at least.

“I… have… an… idea…” Irwyn managed with labored breaths. “I… need… a… stree…t…right… above…a…sewer.”

“Fo…llow…” Rainer did not quite have the leisure to wave as he took charge of their direction. Irwyn could feel that at the current pace the clearly flying casters behind them would soon have a line of sight. The city guards had somewhat thinned at some point as Irwyn kept blinding them. They were leaving the high-class areas and were getting more into the efficient apartments housing workers. Irwyn was not really sure where they were, too busy keeping them from getting swarmed, he understood just the rough general direction. He got to be more aware when the guards decreased; those that usually stayed around these parts had probably already approached to intercept and were therefore mostly already behind them.

“How… Long…”

“A minute,” it was Waylan who replied instead, seemingly much more at ease with the current pace. Well, at least he knew who was going to tease him about more exercise if they all made it out alive.

“When… I yell… ‘Yearn’... run… and… not… look… back. Danger,” he barely managed and concentrated. Unless their pursuers sped up suddenly he might just barely make it. He remembered the vision. That one spell, he remembered it word for word. All the power in it. Of course, it was not something he could possibly reproduce. But if he could summon just a fraction of it, it might be enough.

In the past month, he had interacted with more casters than in the rest of his life before combined. And everyone, except Calm, seemed to be very keen on chanting these incantations to summon magic. Obviously that made him wonder if he could make use of that. However, he did not know any incantation of Light or Flame. Well, now he knew one spell. Considering he had no confidence in escaping just by throwing cones of flames and beams of light, he decided it might be the best option to gamble on it. So, internally he repeated those words.

Across the hills broken,

among children and men

such words were unspoken then

that would bind the very Light;

eternal and bright.

He felt something shift and tried to focus on the memory. There was too much to copy if he had a week, much less just a few moments. Instead, he tried to copy the very rough shape and bring out a single meaning: That of burning. Or at least a fraction of it.

Like the stars beyond my head.

And such was their dread

that the very Flame

they would try to tame.

And clearly, the casters in pursuit had noticed too because they sped up. It was just a tiny bit, almost frantic. He had perhaps seconds before they had a direct line of sight. At least there were no guards in sight at the moment.

By them torn

I will have sworn

Rainer indicated they were on the right street. Hopefully, he was not wrong because Irwyn’s entire escape idea hedged on there being sewers directly beneath his feet.

“to yearn”

and burn,

He yelled at his companions as he stopped his sprint, turning on his heel to face the casters he could now just see coming over the rooftops. Three of them immediately fired some sort of projectile but he did not feel what they were, the spell eating up all his thoughts. He could feel it clearly now. The power of the chant itself. Of those words. Even if he could perhaps bring out only the slightest fraction of what he had seen, just thinking them along with a barely similar image of the structure they were meant to be used through, the amplification was far beyond his own abilities. If this is what words can do, then perhaps the most valuable commodity among mages is not money, but the words of spells themselves.

that I would never run,

“be like the sun”

Starfire covered him and erupted. For a few rapturous moments, Irwyn felt everything around him. The projectiles of Void, incinerated in the outburst. The buildings around him, the people watching wide-eyed through their windows. Waylan and Rainer disappearing behind a corner, sticking to his plan without complaint or understanding. The 5 casters, floating in the air, held by threads of unfamiliar magic.

He wished for them to burn and the spell obliged without any need for conscious effort. Instead of melting half the street, the incandescent Starfire was suddenly directed. Only a small bubble remained around him, the rest erupting towards the group of 5. Two of them had previously created some kind of void shield, one clearly tried to maneuver them out of the way by altering whatever spell had been keeping them flying while the last 2 realised the absolute futility of trying to block this when 4 of them were Voidmages and instead tried to attack the tidal wave with more Void based projectiles. All of them would be futile. Irwyn could tell they would burn to dust. Starfire was still part Light and therefore would annihilate any void protections. His mind did not connect that with the consequences. In the moment of casting that spell he could only feel that endless gratification, for he recognised among them a traitor. A small betrayer. And they would bu…

Then the sixth caster, which Irwyn had never noticed the slightest trace of, shattered the spell with a swipe of an ebony blade.

Reality came crashing down on Irwyn as the spell, which he now realised had greatly inhibited his capability for thought, was lacerated by a force far greater than its own. There stood an elderly man who was also not quite there. His face was full of wrinkles around his pitch-black eyes, sclera and all, the same colour of everything about him, from hair, to clothing to probably the man’s very soul. And what a wonder he was to look at. Despite the fear and despair Irwyn had to admire that fullness the man had achieved in terms of magic. In the vision, he may have seen great magics but the senses which felt them had not quite been his own. But this? Irwyn knew without a shadow of a doubt that this was the most powerful caster he had ever seen, bar none. Everything about him, from his barely noticeable presence even as he shattered great magics with ease down to every dark corner or alley basically begging to accommodate him. Yes, Irwyn felt it quite well: The man’s very presence changed the world around them. As for who he was Irwyn had a guess.

“A shadow,” he muttered. Or perhaps a Shadow. He would not know how to judge. No wonder Alira had held no fear back then if she believed this master was watching over their shoulders. They had been playing the games of children and Irwyn just did not meet the requirements to realise. Then it was no surprise that…

Then the ground under Irwyn cracked and he plummeted down into the sewers below. Such had been his plan from the beginning: To force them away with the spell while he burned into the sewers, then disappearing before the sewage steam settled and they even realised he had fled.

How naive he had been, he supposed. There was no getting away from that. Not for him as he was now, perhaps ever.

His head hit a rock and he lost consciousness.

Irwyn awoke chained to a wall. Or at least as far as he could tell by the rattle of said shackles and general difficulty of movement. His head hurt bad, not to mention the smell. Then he opened his eyes and saw nothing. It was completely pitch black. He did, however, hear other chains slightly rattling near and close. He tried to feel out, for Light and Flame, almost instinctively and realised that he could not. In a moment of panic he tried to call upon his magic and realised that the chains around him devoured every smidgen of it as soon as it begin to gather within Irwyn.

As long as those were on him he would not be able to cast any magic.

“Anyone out there?” he spoke into the mostly silent halls, not quite shouting.

“Was that a fucking kid?” someone spoke from the side and the rattling of chains seemed to increase. He was far from alone.

“Who you with, kid,” another voice asked from the other direction.

“Tears,” Irwyn eventually said. He had considered not responding but perhaps he could learn something by being straightforward.

“Figures,” someone else spoke. “I heard one of you once stole someone’s pants while they shat.”

“Yes, though my friend hates it whenever someone brings the story up,” Irwyn agreed.

“I suppose you are not here for ‘inciting revolution’ like the rest of us,” the first voice spoke. “I am Derrick, from Stars, if you were wondering.”

“Donovan, a Snake,” the other voice followed suit. “Bunch of people around here but most don’t speak no more.”

“Where are we even?”

“Somewhere below the city administration,” Derrick answered. “A chap from earlier was conscious when they dragged him here. Had no clue they had a place like this down. Probably ‘cause hardly anyone walks out again.”

“Were you with the rioters?” Irwyn asked. “I heard the fighting was getting bad, lot of dead on both sides. Lot of bystanders hurt.”

“Nah, it was that cocksucker, Andre,” the man grunted. “Stabbed me and my mates in the back. Not a shred of his father in him.”

“I got caught in a revenge raid,” Donovan interjected. “Pure bad luck. Got bashed over the back of my head while taking a piss and woke up here. You?”

“I…” Irwyn hesitated. He did not want to say too much. On the other hand the proverbial cat was out of the bag either way. But how would he even put it? And what repercussions could it have for him and perhaps the others? He had always been very careful to not let anyone outside the Tears know he was capable of magic.

Before he decided on his words, a low rustle came from a far away distance. Then it got progressively louder.

“Bang your chains to let those further in know that someone is coming,” Donovan advised. "Don’t make eye contact, don’t let them hear you so much as a whimper. Hush now, we can speak later.”

Irwyn did as he was told, the entire area descending to only the rustling of chains and no other sound. He stopped when those around him stopped and waited. It took what felt like minutes before he saw light in the far distance. Then it came ever closer. Eventually, it got close enough for Irwyn to see again; not that he could see much. He wasn’t quite in a cell, it was more like a dead-end corridor. All he could see were the two crude stone walls on both sides of him, a gap for the central path, and an identical arrangement on the other side, except the chains there were empty. And probably not suppressing magic. The only detail was a symbol he did not recognise, probably a way to identify the inmates. There were no iron bars, the chains did enough to restrain movement. Nor was there a toilet of any sort, which explained the persistent stench of feces Irwyn had been fighting hard to ignore. Staying in a place like this over a prolonged period would be torture, perhaps worse.

The light of a torch finally reached him and surprisingly stopped. Two men in modified guard uniforms had dragged another man through the main corridor which Irwyn had now realised was not very spacious. They tried to put the man they were carrying into the chains but it was quite awkward because of the lack of space; the guards could not both fit into the smaller corridor side by side and one had to carry their torch. The prisoner was also completely limp which did not help. Irwyn noticed that blood was already pooling underneath them, the person clearly injured. The guards apparently saw too because after a few minutes of fiddling with the fetters they decided that just getting the man’s wrists under lock and key was good enough and left.

The light was almost gone when it suddenly started getting stronger again. Irwyn had thought that the duo was perhaps returning but no, the light was different. It did not have the flickering or orange-ish tint of torchlight.

Therefore, it was most likely magical.

Irwyn’s heart clenched as two different figures walked into his field of view. One a tall man, a living shadow that had humbled Irwyn not long ago. And the second a young woman, perhaps younger than Irwyn himself. A smug smile plastered on her face with all the twisted self-satisfaction of someone nursing a wounded ego. It was little surprise though, considering Irwyn had felt her among the caster that had chased him. There she stood:

Alira von Blackburg.

Irwyn had made a gamble based on desperate conjecture with a bit of hopefulness. For a solution in a hopeless situation. That an oath made on an Aspect's Name would be both binding and not possible to negate. Since they were not immediately wiped out in retaliation he had assumed it had worked. Mostly because he did not want to think about the alternative.

That they lost the gamble with their lives on the line and the other side decided to take their time collecting.