Trinity of Magic

Even hours after the Emperor had left the stage, Viola could still feel that fervor lingering inside her.

It had weakened, certainly. What had once been a blazing fire was now little more than the fading heat of glowing embers. But it remained.

Viola spent the entire journey back to the Windtänzer estate picking apart every moment of the ceremony. Every word the Emperor had spoken. Every emotion she had felt. Every thought that had seemed perfectly natural until she tried to resist it.

Some of those feelings had undeniably been her own.

She did believe talent should matter more than birth. She did resent the influence the Mages Association held over the Empire. She could even understand the appeal of freeing Arkanheim from its dependence on foreign resources.

Those sounded like reasonable positions to her.

The problem was that she could no longer tell how much the Emperor had magnified them.

Had she truly admired the creation of the new Great Houses?

Had she really felt proud when Stella Eventide was given her name?

Would she have cheered if she had never met the Emperor’s eyes?

Viola didn’t know.

And that frightened her more than she cared to admit.

It left her feeling like a fly trapped in an invisible web, unable to see the strings, much less the spider.

By the time the family assembled in one of the estate’s council chambers, she had made no progress.

”...far sooner than anticipated.”

The words drifted past her without leaving the slightest impression.

Viola nodded absentmindedly.

Across the long table, Victor continued speaking.

”The Association will not accept the seizure of their Gate facilities without protest. The borders might become tense for a time...”

Several members of the Windtänzer family responded with half-amused smiles. Tension at the borders was nothing more than a polite way of saying that one of their neighbors would launch yet another offensive.

Such conflicts had become so commonplace in recent decades that even all-out warfare was often dismissed as little more than a temporary disturbance. No foreign power had managed to breach the Empire’s borders in living memory, at least none that had lived long enough to boast of it.

”...What, exactly, did High Command ask of us?”

The question came from a man who had appeared in the doorway without anyone noticing. He leaned against the frame of the previously shut door as though he had been standing there all along.

Everyone recognized him at once.

Dimitri Windtänzer, Patriarch of the Windtänzer family.

In practiced unison, every occupant of the room rose and gave him a slight bow. The Patriarch, for his part, did not acknowledge the gesture. He remained leaning against the doorway, his gaze fixed solely on Victor, who sat at the head of the table.

At the sound of her father’s voice, Viola perked up as well. It was the first time they had seen each other in years, and she found herself wondering what he would think of her after all this time.

”...The same as always,” Victor responded without missing a beat. ”To keep the skies of Arkanheim free of intruders.”

”Anything more... specific?” Dimitri asked.

Victor shook his head. ”That was all they said.”

Her father flashed his trademark relaxed smile.

”That’s welcome news, then...”

His gaze wandered across the table as he entered the room. It passed over Viola without slowing before returning to Victor.

Viola lowered her eyes.

Victor nodded, though his expression was far less carefree. ”Even so, we cannot slacken in our duty. I recommend sending an additional fleet to reinforce our forces at the border.”

Dimitri’s eyebrows rose.

”It would also serve as a useful training exercise,” Victor continued. ”A relatively safe opportunity for the men to familiarize themselves with the new ships.”

At that, her father’s expression grew more thoughtful. The room fell silent for a moment before the same easy smile returned to his face.

”Whatever you say, Father, is naturally the best course of action. Let us send another fleet, then. Do you already have someone in mind to lead the detachment?”

Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

”Melissa,” Victor answered without hesitation, glancing toward the woman seated not far from Viola.

The Patriarch’s gaze followed his, passing over Viola once more before settling on Melissa.

”Welcome back, Aunty Mel,” Dimitri greeted with a broad smile. ”I was glad to hear that you, at least, made it back alive.”

Melissa nodded, her face wholly impassive. ”Thank you, Patriarch.”

”Hmmm.”

Dimitri tilted his head from side to side as he regarded her. He appeared completely at ease, but the silence stretched just a little too long.

”I’ll be honest, Aunty,” he said at last. ”You are not my first choice. But since Father recommended you, I’ll still ask. Do you wish to command our new fleet?”

Melissa shot Victor a brief, grateful look before responding in a serene voice.

”I am prepared to serve the house in whatever capacity the Patriarch sees fit.”

”Excellent!” Dimitri clapped his hands. ”Truly excellent. I had hoped you would say that...”

Something about those words made Viola uneasy.

”Then I hereby announce that the detachment will be led by Reinold, with Melissa serving as his second in command.”

All gazes turned toward the same spot.

There, seated toward the back, was a relatively young man. It was the very person the Patraich had just mentioned, Reinold.

For all intents and purposes, he was a fairly accomplished Mage, having recently advanced to Archmage at the age of 103. It was hardly some stellar record, but it was still a respectable achievement.

The man shrank his neck under the combined weight of their gazes. He looked like a turtle trying to retreat into its shell, only to realize that it didn’t have one.

The reason for the sudden scrutiny was simple. Reinold hadn’t been born a Windtänzer. He was a member of the Luftschloss family who had only recently married into one of the lesser branches of their house. He might carry the Windtänzer name now, but his loyalties had yet to withstand the test of time.

Choosing him for command over someone like Melissa, who not only had centuries of loyal service under her belt but also held seniority over even the current Patriarch, was bound to raise questions.

”Dimitri...” Victor began, his expression darkening.

Melissa was not the only one whose standing had been challenged by the announcement. Victor had been the one to recommend her so directly.

Before he could say anything more, Dimitri raised both hands in surrender.

”Don’t look at me like that, Father. I know perfectly well how accomplished Aunty is. Isn’t that precisely why I appointed her as second in command?”

The Patriarch flashed Melissa an apologetic smile before returning his attention to Victor.

”...Explain,” the Elder demanded.

”Wouldn’t a mission like this be something Melissa could accomplish in her sleep?” Dimitri asked. ”What experience could she possibly hope to gain from such a trifle?”

Victor listened quietly, and his expression relaxed somewhat upon hearing the Patriarch’s reasoning.

Dimitri continued, ”But for the younger generation, this is exactly what they need. Experience commanding in the field under relatively safe conditions. And if anything truly dangerous happens, Melissa will be there to save his ass.”

Reinold sank a little deeper into his chair.

Victor’s expression relaxed further, though he did not yet agree.

”What are your thoughts, Melissa?”

”I don’t mind,” Melissa replied without any change in expression. ”It might even be a good opportunity to see how capable the next generation has become. Many of their faces are... still unfamiliar to me.”

Victor considered her response before finally nodding.

”Very well. We will send a fleet to the border under Reinold’s command, with Melissa as his second.”

Dimitri nodded, clearly pleased. Even as Patriarch, he couldn’t simply ignore Victor’s opinion.

Then his smiling gaze swept across the room and landed on Viola.

For the first time, he seemed to consciously recognize her.

”Oh...!” he exclaimed, as though something had just occurred to him. ”Viola will go as well.”

Viola froze.

Victor’s expression, which had only just relaxed, turned into a frown. ”That won’t do. I plan to have Viola work beside me for the time being.”

Dimitri gave a helpless shake of his head.

”It can’t be helped this time, Father. Dilina has been pestering me for years to approve one of her marriage candidates. You know as well as I do that it was only a matter of time before I had to agree to one of them...”

Viola felt a chill run down her spine.

Marriage candidates?

Someone her mother had chosen?

”Who?”

The question she most wanted to ask came not from her own throat, but from her grandfather’s.

Dimitri shook his head again. ”There isn’t a single candidate, but three. I plan to have all of them take part in this mission. That will give the children time to get to know one another before any decision is made.”

”...Who?” Victor repeated.

Dimitri’s smile remained in place, but something behind it changed.

”I will provide you with a list later, Father. You likely wouldn’t recognize any of their names.”

Victor opened his mouth, clearly intending to protest, but Dimitri continued before he could speak.

”There is one among them whom you will certainly recognize, however...”

His gaze traveled across the room and settled on a familiar spot.

Viola followed his line of sight, only to once again land on Reinold, the 103-year-old Archmage.

Reinold, who had married into the family. Married. Into. The family.

Viola’s expression turned ashen as she met the turtle-like man’s eyes.

She had always known, deep down, that her grandfather couldn’t protect her from this forever. She had known that a day would come when she would have to perform her duty to the family, when she would have to marry whomever her parents chose and produce the next generation of Windtänzers.

She had just hoped that... that it would be...

Viola shook her head.

She had hoped it would be somebody roughly her own age. Somebody she admired. Or, at the very least, somebody who wasn’t already married.

”...You’d have her become his second wife?” Victor protested, though Viola was barely listening to the conversation.

She couldn’t.

It felt as though something inside her was dying.

”Calm down, Elder,” Dimitri responded. ”Nothing is set in stone. If they don’t get along, it will simply be one of the others.”

He said it with the same lightness one might use when discussing which wine to serve with dinner.

The argument went back and forth, but Viola barely heard a word of it. A certain idea kept flashing through her mind, only to be pushed away the moment it took root.

She shouldn’t even think of it.

She couldn’t...

She...

”What is your answer, child?”

Her grandfather’s voice tore her from her thoughts.

To her shock, Viola noticed that every eye in the room was directed at her. She had completely tuned out the conversation and didn’t even know what was being asked of her.

”Will you follow the Patriarch’s wishes and join the reinforcements at the border?” Victor prompted upon noticing how lost she was.

Viola licked her dry lips, trying to moisten them, but her tongue was just as dry.

”I...” she began in a raspy voice.

The thought she had tried to bury deep inside her mind reared its head once again.

This time, she didn’t push it away.

She looked into her father’s eyes. Those jubilant, ever-smiling eyes.

He met her gaze without the slightest trace of anger or impatience. There was no command in his expression, no threat, not even any particular interest. Only that same warm, easy smile, as though whatever answer she gave would make no difference.

And in that smile, Viola found her resolve.

”I will go to the border...”