Benn paused before the flowerbed, taking a moment to admire the neat rows of sunflowers, their heads bent toward the setting sun’s last rays of light. They made for a charming distraction from his upcoming meeting. Brilliant yellow petals that mimicked their namesake which was forever out of reach and a dizzying swirl of dark seeds within their core. The flowers were a fascinating dichotomy of light and dark. Much like the precarious situation he currently found himself in.

What had started as a campaign to help orphans of the endless war that waged on their borders, had become something far more… sinister. He’d been dragged from his comfortable existence as a simple advocate for the young, into a world of politics and corruption. And it was done all at the behest of the one he was here to meet. A shiver ran down Benn’s spine as he thought of the woman he was to meet that evening.

Aliera Yerasi was a powerful elf. Her position as Magister of Magical Affairs ensured that. The Mages’ Tower and the Alchemist Union both fell under her purview, making her the dominant figure in two of the most lucrative – and influential – organizations in the country. Rumors abounded about how she obtained her position. Some said that she seduced the Queen, while others claimed she was the Queen’s own, illegitimate daughter.

Benn knew better.

He drew his watch from his pocket, the gold glinting in the wisp lights that flickered to life as the sun finally sank below the horizon. It was almost time. Benn drew in a deep breath, steadying himself. He may have left his former life behind to seek a more altruistic path, but he hadn’t forgotten everything his masters had taught him: the first rule was Show No Fear.

First came the clicking of shoes on the paving stones, so soft that Benn briefly wondered if she’d had some form of training. Next came her scent on the wind, a heady, aromatic blend of spice and berries. The rustle of her skirts tickled at his pointed ears just moments before she appeared, her silhouette framed by the brilliant lights of the city skyline beyond the rooftop garden.

“Korbenn Trevellion,” Aliera said, her gaze sweeping over his faded waistcoat and dusty boots, “I’ve heard a lot about you.” Her crimson lips pulled up into a smile that didn’t quite reach her amethyst eyes.

“All good things I hope,” Benn said, smiling awkwardly and bowing deeply. “I’m so grateful for this opportunity, Lady Yerasi.”

“Yes, well, when my chief assistant speaks so highly of a provincial lawyer and his trivial charity, I can’t help but be intrigued.”

Benn couldn’t help but wince at her words. He knew his work meant little to those in the capital, but it still stung to hear it from the mouth of such a respected official. “We attended school together and we’ve remained in touch. Letters and the like.”

“Yes. He is the loyal sort,” Aliera said, turning away from Benn to gaze out over the garden.

“One still can’t help but wonder though, how the third son of a destitute baronet managed entrance to an institute typically reserved for high nobility.”

Benn’s eyes narrowed. He’d known the Magister would have him investigated, but it was still worrying that she all but admitted it. “The Royal College applauds excellence, even among the lower classes.”

“Just so,” she said, “Walk with me, Mr. Trevellion.” Without looking back at him, Aliera strode down the path deeper into the garden.

Schooling his face back into his practiced expression of the pleasant and unassuming lawyer, Benn hurried to catch up to the Magister, slowing as he matched her pace, just a half-step behind and to her left.

As if she had never even considered the possibility he wouldn’t follow, Aliera spoke, her gaze drifting to the plants along the path, “Do you know why this garden exists?”

“I believe it was built as part of the courtship between Prince Harivan and Queen Le’teria.”

Aliera turned to consider Benn for a moment, then shook her head, “That is only part of the story. During the reign of Queen Le’teria’s father, this rooftop was a dragon tower.”

Benn’s eyes widened, “Truly? I thought them decommissioned centuries ago?”

Aliera paused beside a striking wall of brilliant blue flowers, her fingers brushing against the petals, “That was the official decree, yes, but the monarchy still feared the dragons. If they broke the accords, without the protection of the towers, the city would crumble before the ire of even a handful of the beasts. Dragons are notoriously fickle, after all.”

Benn gulped silently, his eyes trained on Aliera’s back, “Then what changed his mind?”

Aliera straightened and turned toward Benn, a wistful smile on her face, “He died. His successor did not inherit his fears and trusted in the accords. As a symbol of his faith in her decision, Prince Harivan – then still a general – chose to tear down the last remaining dragon tower, a symbol of slaughter and blood, and replace it with a monument of hope, dedicated to the woman he loved.” Aliera turned and gestured toward a clearing in the center of the garden.  

Benn turned, his eyes growing large as he saw the statue in the center of a marble fountain. A small girl dressed in finery beamed, arms outstretched, at a massive dragon encircling the little girl. The wyrm’s head peered down at the girl, a bemused and affectionate expression softened the creature’s sharp features.

Few had ever seen a dragon in person. They were rare beings who preferred their solitude, but Benn knew the statue before him wasn’t just a random depiction of the creatures, but a specific individual. He couldn’t help glancing at Aliera, why she would share that particular story.

“I can see what you’re thinking, little spy,” the Magister’s eyes now trained on his, the softness from a moment ago as she gazed at the fountain gone, replaced by an edge of cruelty. “You want to know why I brought you here. Why I would tell you these things.”

Benn took a step back, panic flooding him. She knew. How did she know? No one should be able to trace him back to who he once was. He cut ties with that world as completely as anyone could. He even faked his own death!

“Who sent you here? What fool thought to use compassion for orphaned children against me?!”

“N-no one, my Lady,” Benn’s mouth grew dry, his silver tongue numb, “I swear to you, I’m no spy!”

The Magister laughed, “If not a spy, then what? An assassin? Do you think that little thorn you have hidden up your sleeve could actually harm me?”

Benn’s hand drifted to the opposite wrist, touching the hilt of the dagger hidden there. He no longer chose to wield it in service to others, but he felt naked without it, so even now he kept it close. The world was not a safe place, his home near the eastern front even more so.

Protection was necessary.

“Neither,” Benn said, his composure returning at the touch of the hard metal beneath his hand. He had been in tougher situations… well maybe not this bad, but he knew how to handle himself in a crisis. He just needed to stay calm and keep his head. If she really thought he was a threat, he would already be dead. He still had time to fix this. “I really am here as an advocate for the war orphans. That’s not a lie. The rest of it…” Benn paused for a moment, eyes drifting down to watch Aliera’s hands. If the Magister wanted to kill him, she would use magic, and that meant using her hands. For the moment, they were blessedly still. “I’m not that man anymore. You investigated, you have to know! The man known as Wraith is dead. He died in a fire forty years ago.”

Aliera stared at him, allowing the silence to grow oppressive. The muscles in Benn’s legs tensed, preparing to run even as he knew it wouldn’t matter. There was no way he could survive the woman before him.

The Magister turned away, facing back toward the dragon monument, “As you said. Wraith died in a fire. The man I’m speaking to today has proven himself a man of morals and compassion.” Aliera smiled faintly, “His teachers and colleagues speak highly of him. The children he cares for call him Uncle and look forward to his visits. Even the stray dogs know him an easy target to beg for food.”

Benn let out a heavy breath, the tension in his body fading just a fraction.

“Children are creatures of joy. They harbor none of the judgment nor disdain of their elders. They deserve to be protected.” Aliera faced Benn. “The Alchemist Union and Mages’ Tower would be honored to fund your orphanages, until such time as the war ends and there are no more who are left bereft of their parents because of the greed of fools a hundred miles away.”

“Thank you Lady Yer-.”

BOOM!

The ground shuddered under Benn’s feet. Dust clogged the air and the quiet garden was suddenly filled with the rattle of metal as blades were drawn and armor creaked, now stripped of the spell that had muffled the sound, as a dozen men appeared out of thin air and surrounded the pair of them. The air crackled with mana and a trio of mages stood behind the protective line of armed men, their voices hushed as they chanted in unison.

“Ignore the male, kill the Magister!” a human man cried out. Though none of their armor carried symbols or ranks, it was obvious he was the commander of the troupe.

Wordlessly, Aliera lifted her hands, energy already coalescing around her fingertips as she prepared to hurl a spell at their attackers. Her eyes blazed, lips twisted in a snarl. Lightning burst from her outstretched hands, slamming into the closest ambusher. He collapsed, body spasming as smoke rose from his charred flesh.

Benn’s focus drifted away from the jerking corpse, back to the mages. There was something familiar about the chant. Something he had seen before, back in his former life. Then it clicked. Benn’s eyes widened in horror. “No!” he screamed, drawing his dagger and rushing toward the mages, “Stop!”

A pair of soldiers broke from the rest of the formation, meeting his charge head-on. They smirked, unafraid of a bureaucrat wielding a little knife. Benn was rusty, it had been a long time since he’d lifted a blade, but the hilt felt like an old friend finally come home to stay.

The first soldier’s sword lashed out, narrowly missing Benn as he skidded to a stop just out of reach. He eyed the two men before him warily, but his attention was split as he could hear the mages still chanting behind them. If they finished their spell, things were going to get messy. The kind of messy no one survived.

Benn grit his teeth. He couldn’t hesitate any longer. While he was at his best when striking unseen, he was still a capable fighter. He twisted his grip on his dagger, blade pointed out. A dagger versus two men armed with longswords, on a strict time limit. This was going to be a challenge.

A wave of heated air blasted across Benn’s back, as Aliera eliminated another enemy with a fireball. The two men in front of Benn glanced away, horror and rage in their eyes as another of their comrades fell before the unstoppable Magister. Benn took advantage of their distraction, darting forward into the first soldier’s guard. Before he could react, Benn’s dagger was already parting his throat, blood gushing from his newly acquired second smile.

Before the soldier’s body hit the ground, Benn was running at the second. This one was ready for him. Bellowing, he swung at Benn, grazing his shoulder as he tried to deflect the blow. Benn flinched back, putting space between them, as he eyed his new opponent. Benn frowned, briefly wishing he’d come prepared for a fight. A dagger was a weapon of surprise, but in an open conflict, it paled in comparison to a proper sword.

Rolling his shoulders, Benn flipped the dagger, and pinching the blade between his fingers, hurled it at the soldier. His opponent easily swiped the small blade from the air with his sword, but it gave Benn the opening he needed. He rushed forward, leaning down to scoop up the fallen soldier’s sword, and bringing it up in a sweeping arc. The blade sliced across the enemy’s arm. Without slowing, Benn slammed his shoulder into the soldier’s gut, bringing them both to the ground.

Benn straddled the man, pinning his sword arm to the ground. The soldier swung with his free hand, landing a solid strike to Benn’s temple. Benn’s vision blurred and he growled, bent back, and slammed his forehead down into the soldier’s face. Cartilage crunched as it shattered beneath the blow. Adjusting the grip of his sword, Benn slammed the pommel of the longsword into the soldier’s throat. Once. Twice. After the third, the armored man lay still, his throat crushed.

Benn gasped, catching his breath atop the dead soldier. Shaking his head to clear the fog, he stumbled to his feet, desperate to stop the mages before they could finish their spell. He turned, trying to find them through blurred vision. His pointed ears twitched, listening for their chanting. That’s when he realized he could no longer hear them.

The air around him felt stifling. Heavy and oppressive, like a muggy summer day, but the air was cool and dry. With growing horror, Benn slowly turned to where the Magister had been moments before and came face to face with exactly what he’d fought to stop.

Gone was the beautiful, if somewhat haughty elven woman. In her place was a massive creature, its wings stretched far beyond the length of the rooftop. The beast’s face was eerily familiar, just like that of the marble monument that now lay shattered in the center of the garden, but its visage was twisted into shock and rage.

The enemies trembled in fear, as the dragon towered over them. Surprise apparent in their eyes. The mages scrambled to flee, not understanding what had happened. How their spell had gone so terribly wrong.

“Foolish mortals! What have you done?!” the dragon roared; her voice sounded nothing like it had in her elven guise. It was rough and deep, rumbling through the bones.

“Anti-magic,” Benn whispered then flinched as a pair of amethyst eyes settled on him, the slit pupils contracting into slits.

“You know of this? Betrayer!” the dragon snarled, fangs bared and flames flickering within her mouth.

“N-NO!” Benn yelled, raising his hands and dropping the sword. “I can explain but first…” he pointed a single finger at the remaining soldiers, never daring to turn his eyes away from the dragon still glaring down at him.

A taloned foot lashed out at the remaining group, still frozen in horror. The swipe sent them flying, bodies crashing through the greenery like a child’s ragdolls. The Magister-turned-dragon lifted her head, nostrils flaring, as she searched for the runaway mages. Her neck snapped to the left, maw gaping, and a wave of fire erupted, bathing a full quarter of the garden in flames. Benn could barely hear brief screams of agony, over the crackle of the inferno the dragon easily summoned.

“Now…,” Aliera said, her attention back on Benn, her massive head looming over him, maw just slightly agape, ready to swallow him in a single bite. “What am I to do with you?”

“L-Lady Yerasi,” Benn pleaded, sweat beading on his forehead as he struggled to match her gaze.

“It is imperative my secret remain so,” the dragon said, looking down at the nervous assassin with something akin to the amusement of a cat eyeing a mouse, “But it would seem you have a secret of your own. One far more interesting than I initially thought, little spy.”

“Lady Yerasi,” Benn started before being interrupted.

“Come now, no need to keep up with the charade. You obviously know who I am. What, I am. You knew even before those humans did… what did you call it? Anti-magic?”

Benn swallowed, steeling himself. Straightening his back, he tugged at his shredded waistcoat, wincing as the gesture reminded him of his injured shoulder. “Ala’valtix. The Golden Wyrm. Bringer of Flames.” Benn paused for a moment before continuing, “The Immortal Nemesis.”

The grin on the dragon’s reptilian face was disconcerting, her golden scales glinting in the light of the fire that still smoldered in the garden. “Only a handful of people in this kingdom knew who I was. You were not one of them.” The question in her tone was obvious.

“As you keep calling me, I was a spy. An excellent one,” Benn gave the dragon a wane smile. “I learned a great many things before I decided an early and very final retirement was in my best interest.”

“And just who held your leash, I wonder. Who else knows of these many things?”

Benn shook his head, “No one you need to be concerned with. But I cannot say more. If you worry about your mortal identity, I can swear to you that I have told no one who did not already know the truth.”

Ala’valtix’s eyes glimmered, mana rippling through them as she stared down at Benn. A moment later a thoughtful expression appeared on her face. “You speak the truth, little spy. Then we will set that aside for the moment, though do not think I am satisfied with your evasions.

Benn sighed but slowly nodded his head. That was going to be a problem. He couldn’t risk saying more, but if he didn’t he knew he’d end up a pile of ash.

“What is this Anti-magic, you spoke of?”

“Something the humans were developing, based on recovered remains of the ancient empire. The humans called it Anti-magic, but in the ancient runes, it was referred to by a different term. Null.”

Ala’valtix’s eyes went wide, “Null? You’re certain?”

Benn nodded, “That’s all I know. My cover was compromised before I could discover anything more.”

“They cannot be permitted to further delve into such dangerous research. There is a reason Null was left to rot with the remains of that putrid empire.”

Benn was taken aback by the venom in Ala’valtix’s voice. “You know what it is?”

The dragon glared at him, then lifted her head, glancing across the devasted rooftop. “Perhaps we ought to finish this elsewhere, before more witnesses arrive. I already have one I have not yet determined what to do with.”

Benn gulped.

Without warning, Ala’valtix snatched Benn up in a claw. Beating her powerful wings, she leapt into the air. Magic shimmered over the pair as they drew away from the garden, the anti-magic aura no longer engulfing them, and they both vanished from sight. The only indication they even remained were the now muffled screams of a terrified elf.