"— What is the reason you are here, in this remote region?"
I could ask you the same, Foskir replies to them telepathically, smiling. The young mage felt that their communication was taking place in almost the same manner as when he spoke mentally with the shadow spirits of Eskeinthos and Skogisa.
"— You do not look like an elf, from what we can see."
"— So elves truly exist… I thought their existence was nothing but a myth…"
"— This is the first time your kind has sent only a single human to locate the elven kingdom. Still, despite your young age, I must acknowledge that you are a rather powerful mage."
"— I thank you for your kind words, but I would like to know whether you intend to let me leave alive, or whether you plan to kill me as well, just as you have done with all those you have encountered so far."
"— We told you that we will not harm you. You must know that we, the Vyrsonians, keep our word—so do not fear without reason. I am the leader of this order, and my name is Tarichel. It would be an honor if you revealed your own name as well, young and talented mage."
"— My name is Foskar, though most people call me Nofeivos."
"— Foskar, you are free to leave. However, you are not permitted to remain in this region, and you must convey the same message to the rest of your kind, if they wish to avoid further casualties in the future."
"— Understood. I will pass the message along."
"— Consider today's battle a draw. But remember—next time we meet, I will be prepared, and I will not show you mercy as I did today."
All the Vyrsonians bid him farewell and immediately transform into colorful, radiant spheres of light, swiftly moving away from him. Relieved that they allowed him to leave alive, Foskir turns back and, using the magic of the ring, flies swiftly once more toward Thessaloniki. Eventually, he reaches Greece's second-largest city, and from there, through a magical gate, he is transported to Athens—and then again through another portal to the island of Thora.
It was the final day of his leave, and after everything he had experienced, he decided to return to his camp that very same day, so that he could unpack his belongings and avoid rushing at the last moment. After all, everything he had set out to accomplish during his vacation had already been achieved. He was now in possession of the precious magical ring of Asovi—along with the discovery of a remarkable summoning ability.
The young Foskir now knew that if he summoned a demon of sufficient power and intelligence, he could communicate with it telepathically and command it to summon magical spirits in his stead.
When Nofeivos finally arrives at the camp, he reports to his captain, Ketaras, who is surprised to see that he has returned one day earlier than expected.
"— What happened, my young man, that you returned early? Did you miss your comrades—or perhaps the battles with demons?"
"— Neither of the two," the young mage replies with a smile.
"— I simply visited all the destinations I had planned and took care of everything I needed to do, so I decided to return earlier in order not to be rushing at the last moment…"
"— Yes, I heard something… you went to London… and visited their magnificent library… correct?"
"— Yes, you heard correctly. I wanted to search for information about the magical veil of the island of Thora, but nothing particularly noteworthy. I only managed to find myths and legends…"
"— Indeed, my young man. The Ministry of Magic has been searching for information on this matter across the globe as well, yet they have not discovered anything new or useful either. So far, we do not even know what this rift truly is, nor why it appeared here on this island. And of course, we have no idea what kind of beings these are—the ones with such varied forms—that have been invading our world for so many years."
"— As for me, Captain, I managed to find a new name for these beings. The text referred to them as Vyrsonians… do you have any idea regarding this designation?"
"— Vyrso… what?!"
"— Vyrsonians is the name a text used to refer to fairies, in myths concerning fairy folk."
"— I have absolutely no idea. This is the first time I have heard that name."
The dark-haired mage runs a hand through his messy hair and tells the captain that perhaps he read something about a different mythical creature and simply got confused.
"— I will inform the rest of the officers of our unit, in case they know anything about the name 'Vyrsonians.' If I learn anything, I will let you know. You are dismissed—free to go!"
As he leaves Captain Ketaras' office, he encounters the captain's wife, the beautiful Sthenanteia, with her long dark hair. She was on her way to her husband's office when, surprised to see Nofeivos, she smiles and says:
"— Weren't you supposed to return tomorrow, handsome?"
"— Uh… yes… indeed, my leave officially ends tomorrow, but I had nothing else to do, so I decided to return today and avoid rushing at the last moment…"
"— At least you had a good time with your girl during your leave?"
Foskir smiled, about to tell Sthenanteia that he did not have a girlfriend yet, but before he could answer, the beautiful Sthenanteia continued.
"Don't tell me that such a handsome young man like you doesn't have a girl?"
"Unfortunately, I'm still single…"
"Don't worry, you'll surely find someone soon! A handsome boy like you will set hearts on fire!"
Foskir smiled, greeted Sthenanteia, and walked away, while she winked at him mischievously and then opened the captain's door to enter his office. Meanwhile, Nofoivos went to his locker to leave some things and unpack his belongings. He placed a few personal items inside the locker and then took out his shower gel and towel from his magical backpack to head to the showers. He undressed, wrapped the towel around his waist, and went to the laundry area to drop off his dirty clothes.
Leaving the laundry room with the towel around his waist, he continued down the corridor toward the unit's showers. There he encountered Sthenanteia, who was just coming out of Captain Ketaras' office. She stared at him intensely and smiled with a sly expression, while the young mage returned the smile as he headed for the showers.
He entered the shower stall, hung the towel on the hook, and began washing himself. About five to ten minutes passed, and while he was rinsing the foam from his hair, he suddenly heard the door of his shower opening.
"Occupied! I'm showering!" the young mage shouted, quickly rinsing his face to see who was trying to enter.
Foskir saw the dark-haired Sthenanteia, who was wearing only a bathrobe.
"What do you want here?!"
Sthenanteia ignored him, removed her bathrobe, and hung it beside his towel.
The young mage was left speechless by her naked body, with its beautiful curves and perfect proportions. At the same time, Sthenanteia, with her sensual blue eyes, loosened her long dark hair, letting it fall freely with grace. Then she knelt down and kissed him low on the abdomen, slowly moving even lower.
Nofoivos, shocked, didn't know what to do. When Sthenanteia had already gone quite low while kissing him, he finally tried to stop her.
"Stop! Stop, Sthenanteia—if the captain finds out—"
"No one will find out…"
"No, stop! We shouldn't—it's not right…"
Foskir pulled back, blocking her. Sthenanteia, clearly disappointed and angry, stood up, took her bathrobe from the hook, put it on, and left, saying only, "Your loss!"
Foskir quickly rinsed himself as well, tied the towel around his waist, and exited the shower, shaken. Outside the showers, at the sinks, stood a fellow soldier, Manolis, who shared the same barracks with Foskir. Manolis looked at him with a sly grin as Foskir came out, his towel visibly tented.
"Looks like you really enjoyed your shower, huh?"
Foskir avoided Manolis' gaze and didn't answer. He hurried back to his barracks to get dressed, trying to forget the entire incident with Sthenanteia.
The next morning, Captain Ketaras summoned Foskir to his office. The young mage didn't know the reason, but anxiously suspected that the previous night's incident in the showers might have been discovered.
"Nofoivos, you are leaving our unit. The Ministry of Magic has requested your transfer. You must be in Italy—at the headquarters in Rome—by tomorrow."
"Yes, sir."
"Prepare your belongings. When you arrive, the officers there will brief you and integrate you into their special forces. The Ministry believes your skills will be extremely useful in assisting with special operations against those demons—you called them Vyrsonians."
"Yes, Captain. No problem. I'll prepare immediately."
"Be ready by morning… and good luck, kid. You'll need it."
"Thank you, Captain."
The sharp-minded Nofoivos realized that this transfer was hardly a coincidence and was likely connected to the incident involving the captain's wife in the showers. He reasonably concluded that the special magical forces in Rome must be dangerous and demanding. He could tell from the captain's eyes that the "good luck" sounded more like a curse than a blessing.
Still, Foskir thought it was probably for the best. Otherwise, something far worse might have happened if he had remained in the same camp with Sthenanteia, who might have tried again to approach him romantically.
Lost in these thoughts, Foskir went to take up his patrol duty. The day eventually passed, and after packing all his belongings, the young mage was ready to depart from the island of Thoros. A mage from the Ministry arrived to escort Nofoivos to Rome.
Using mainly magical portals through major cities, they eventually reached Rome. There, they met another mage waiting in front of an ancient, massive temple. After introductions, they followed him inside.
The young mage followed the two mages with curiosity as they led him into catacombs beneath the temple. After descending, they arrived before a stone gate that opened magically—a portal that teleported them to the secret headquarters of Rome's special magical forces.
Inside, Nofoivos saw many humans and mostly goblins, rather than shadow creatures.
A few minutes later, they met the commander of the magical agents' headquarters—an elderly mage with a long white beard and long white hair.
"Welcome, my young friend," the old mage said calmly.
"I am the commander of this magical unit. My name is Giovatori Depate."
Nofoivos, of course, didn't understand Italian, but since mages from many nations worked at the headquarters, they had provided strange earpieces for those from other countries. Almost all the mages wore them, allowing everyone to communicate regardless of origin or race.
Foskir was seeing these devices for the first time, and when he asked how they worked magically, he was told they were a useful tool borrowed from the world of ordinary humans—one that had proven invaluable now that all nations had to cooperate to confront the fairies.
Thus, the young mage replied to the commander, introducing himself as Nofoivos Foskir.
Later, some mages explained that their primary mission was to locate the hidden strongholds where the fairies organized themselves and to intervene in time to repel their incursions into Earth's major cities.
"We must intervene early and stop the attacks of the fairies—or as you call them, the Vyrsonians—before they cause devastating damage and casualties in the great cities of our world."
"Yes," Nofoivos replied, "it's an ancient name I read in a book of myths and legends…"
After they talked for a while and he introduced himself to everyone at the headquarters, they finally led him to his personal quarters so he could leave his belongings there. Afterwards, they handed him his daily schedule, which included extensive studying and exhausting training in advanced forms of magic and combat spells. In the end, they informed him that the mess hall would soon be open, so he went to eat together with his fellow soldiers, most of whom were already there.
Thus, the days passed, and with the help of the other agents, the young mage gradually began to adapt to the demanding routine of the special forces. Everyone treated him kindly and was eager to guide him, since he was by far the youngest member of their order. Their unit was called the Order of the Cyans, or simply the Cyans, as all his superiors told him—those who trained him and tested his magical abilities during exercises.
After a few weeks, Giovatori Depate judged him ready and assigned him his first mission, along with five Cyans to assist him.
"We are detecting an incursion by a Vyrsonian near the region of Naples. Your mission is to locate it and prevent it from entering the city. If possible, and only if there is no mortal danger, capture it and bring it back here for interrogation—but only if this can be accomplished without risking your lives."
The magical headquarters of Rome had established enchanted grids around every major city in Italy, allowing them to detect early any approach by the fair folk into these areas. As a result, the Cyans frequently received alerts about Vyrsonian breaches across Italy. This was also the reason their headquarters was considered one of the most dangerous and demanding fronts in this war.
Thus, Foskir's team was immediately teleported to Naples through a magical gate, and they began flying across the sky, searching for traces of the Vyrsonians.
After several minutes of flying on their enchanted broomsticks and using the spell "Roverio," the Cyans managed to locate the intruder. The Oni had the form of a dark and terrifying humanoid demon, flying within a black, smoky aura. It approached them rapidly and menacingly, unleashing various curses at them with its magical staff. The Cyans evaded the attacks with skillful maneuvers while spreading out in the sky, attempting to surround the fairy.
Seeing their maneuver, the Vyrsonian called for aid, summoning a dreadful beast—a chimera. The Cyans split into two groups of three, with Foskir's team tasked with eliminating the chimera. His group quickly overwhelmed the monstrous creature, as the young mage summoned Eskinthos, and together they defeated it in short order.
However, while Foskir's team was dealing with the chimera, the Oni had already killed one of their comrades in the other group and managed to knock another mage off his broomstick. Realizing this, Foskir's team rushed to assist the remaining mage, who was barely holding on against the powerful demon's relentless attacks.
Meanwhile, Xodeinos informed Nofoivos that he had news about his sister.
"Your sister, Nofoivos, is absolutely fine—do not worry at all. About two hours ago, I saw her in the forest of Thonidos with her team, fighting Oni during their patrol."
"Was she all right? Did they win?!"
"There were far more elves than Vyrsonians, so with some effort they prevailed. An elf summoned me during the battle, and that is how I saw your sister among them, fighting at their side."
"Thank the gods," Foskir thought, feeling a wave of relief.
"You're certain she made it through the battle?"
"Absolutely. Your instructor, Elanor, was also there and played a decisive role in their victory against the Oni. He was truly impressive."
"Yes, my teacher is indeed a powerful and talented mage. I have been fortunate enough to fight at his side."
"He grows stronger with time. You see, you are not the only one who can communicate with magical spirits…"
"What do you mean?"
"Your instructor, Elanor Eithamon, possesses the same gift as you—but he never revealed it to you. And that is not the only thing he has kept hidden…"
"What do you mean exactly?"
"There are many things he has not told you about summoning magical beings, and about the ancient magic of the veil on the island of Thoras."
At the same time, the battle with the Vyrsonian was unfolding at a rapid pace, with intense exchanges of spells on both sides. The Cyans were struggling, as they could not attack and fly on broomsticks with equal effectiveness. As a result, another Cyan fell victim to the skilled Vyrsonian.
Realizing they would not succeed while remaining airborne, the Cyans decided to descend rapidly to the ground and confront the demon from there.
They dove toward the earth as the Oni pursued them, hurling curses after them. One spell would have killed Nofoivos, but Eskinthos intervened in time, magically swapping his master's position with that of another comrade. The Oni's curse struck the shocked goblin Degamuk, who fell dead from his broomstick.
Now only the team leader, Jonathan, and the young mage remained, having barely reached the ground.
Jonathan cast the powerful spell "Proteliga" to defend them from the bloodthirsty Oni.
"Enough! Every time I call upon you, one of my comrades ends up dead because of you! This was the last time I made that mistake!"
"If we are not in communication, you will collapse under the mental strain—and you will not perform at your best. This does not benefit you."
Nevertheless, Nofoivos did not continue the mental dialogue. Instead, he shut Eskinthos out of his thoughts and brought him under full control. Eskinthos tried to speak to him telepathically, but the sixteen-year-old Foskir now knew exactly what he had to do.
The cunning mage commanded Xodeinos to summon the dark entity Skogissa. Now Eskinthos was forced to focus on controlling Skogissa instead. In this way, the young mage reduced his mental strain while controlling Xodeinos—and at the same time, he doubled his summoned magical entities.
Meanwhile, the fairy has also landed and taken on a human form with the head of a stag. The Vyrsonian attacks the two mages while simultaneously summoning a massive fire spirit in the shape of a serpent, which causes serious trouble for the two Blues cyans. The battle begins to escalate between the two sides, and the demons play a leading role, unleashing dreadful attacks on both fronts. Nevertheless, after a few minutes, the two mages and Foskar's two shadow spirits manage to destroy the fire demon without suffering any losses.
The Vyrsonian, on the other hand, remains unconcerned and immediately summons two more magical entities: a fearsome dragon and a warrior spirit wielding a sword shrouded in a dark aura. And then, suddenly, Foskar sees a massive Troll appear on his side of the battlefield.
"Jonathan, did you summon that magical beast?""No—what do you mean? Isn't that spirit yours as well?""Nothing… it's just… I thought you had made the same summoning before me…"
At that moment, Foskyr begins to feel intense spiritual pressure once more, and he understands exactly what has happened.
"So you forced Skogisa to summon a beast instead of you, to reduce the pressure and try to focus on me—so that you could attempt to communicate with me…""I knew you were clever enough. I'm not surprised you realized it so quickly.""It doesn't matter. I simply command you now to summon the demon Egni under your control!"
Their leader, Jonathan, now sees four beasts standing before Foskyr at the same time and asks him in astonishment:"But how?! Aren't you being spiritually exhausted by so many summonings at once?!"
Nofeivos smiles and answers calmly, "Don't worry—I have my ways…"
At the same time, Foskar's magical creatures have cornered the fairy's two beasts. Seeing that he is losing the battle, Onio attempts a powerful ancient spell, Esinou, merging his two spirits into a single, stronger monster. The resulting magical beast is a dreadful dragon with a rider. With a single fiery assault, this terrifying spirit annihilates both the exhausted Skogisa and the Troll simultaneously.
Now Jonathan also takes action, summoning a demon that takes the form of a flaming knight. He orders his magical creature to attack the Vyrsonian. Meanwhile, the cunning Nofeivos gives orders to Eskeinthos to summon a creature of high intelligence. The spirit summoned by Xodeinos is Vent, a being of air with the form of an angel. And just as Foskar had foreseen, Xodeinos commands Vent to summon a beast of earth as well—the fearsome wolf Tholi.