28: Tangled Threads

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"Don't you dare lose consciousness on me now, damn it!" Blayre said, lightly flicking the sorcerer's face as his eyes began to close. She suspected he was concussed, and she needed to get him to a medic before he fell asleep and did any more damage to himself. And she needed to know more. Was he just being delusional? She doubted Caval would admit to being part of a rebel cause if it weren't true - head injury or no.

She was torn between staying with Caval and tracking down the rebel-mage-assassin. Moon and Sun, there were a lot of titles being tacked onto that filth. And though she itched to give chase, Blayre reasoned that finding out information from Caval while she could was most important.

And what would she do with that information once she had it?

"Fool!" She cursed Caval. She was tired of being put in compromised positions. Bloody mages.

"You know, I can still hear you." Caval mumbled.

"You can? Good!" She snapped. "What is this rebel group? What do they want?" She kept her voice low and as level as possible.

Caval smiled weakly. "They're not as bad as you might think. People are too quick to associate 'rebel' with a negative connotation. We want no ill to befall Rory, but I suspect that someone else does."

"No kidding." Blayre's tone was sarcastic. "He's had too many close calls."

Caval nodded and then winced from the movement.

"I think you have a head injury." She explained to him, her sympathy returning. "You need to stay alert. I'm hoping someone comes across us so I can send for a medic, but for now just keep talking."

"Ok," Was all Caval said. It seemed he would need more prompting.

"This rebel group that you're a part of. What is it they want?" Blayre inquired. "What is their purpose?"

"They want to remove the requirement that mages be marked upon magical development. And they want a leader who is sympathetic to the cause."

It didn't make sense though. Caval was next in line to be crown sorcerer. He was a marked mage who had it all. He'd come from nothing, and worked his way up. Caval had received the best training and mentoring that Emares had to offer. Why risk giving all that up for some illegal mages?

"Why are you of all people joining a rebel cause?" It was the next logical question. Though Blayre didn't know if it was more for her own knowledge or if it would actually add to the information she was filing away in her head.

"Why do you keep your ability a secret?" He emphasized the word "ability" in a way that made her freeze. He knew too? Twelve hells... her list of people who had knowledge of her power was growing more rapidly than she would have liked.

She responded with a silent glare.

"Because you don't want to be controlled. You're afraid that if the wrong person finds out, you'll be forced into a role that you don't want to play. We are one and the same Blayre. I never asked to be the next Crown Sorcerer. I had no choice."

Blayre didn't know what to say, so she chose to maintain her silence on the matter. It turned out to be a wise choice as footsteps rounded the corner and a group of guards came into view.

Blayre stood and wiped her hands on her pants - she hadn't realized she'd been sweating.

"The suspect got away. Sorcerer Caval is in need of medical attention. I believe he has a concussion."

She refused to look at her friend as she walked away, feeling confused, betrayed, and useless. Nothing was ever as it seemed.

The ballroom now looked more like it was housing a funeral. More than of the guests had departed, and some of the decor had been disrupted by the eruption that had occurred less than an hour earlier. It felt like a lifetime ago.

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