The house was calm. Sunlight spilled across the living room floor, catching on the dust motes that danced lazily in the air. The curtains swayed softly in the morning breeze, and birds outside sang their early songs. For a few precious moments, everything felt ordinary, almost safe.
Then came a knock at the door.
"I'll get it," I said, rising.
Carefully, I turned the handle and peeked through the door to see a figure standing there, hooded, briefcase in hand.
Slowly, he stepped inside, eyes scanning the room, assessing, measuring.
"Master, everyone, this is Eric McCalsky," I said, gesturing toward him. "The man I told you about. He's here to help."
Eric nodded curtly at us before his gaze fell on Amanda, who sat across the room.
"You must be Andrew's daughter," he said, his voice calm, even. "Your father is alive."
Amanda's eyes widened in disbelief. She leapt to her feet, hands trembling slightly.
"Really? Thank goodness!" Her voice was bright with relief, almost shaking from the intensity of her emotions.
Eric's expression remained serious. "But he's not safe. He's testing the Commander's patience. He hasn't revealed anything, not a word. Time may be shorter than expected, and they see him as a major threat… he will definitely be made as an example for the entire town."
The room's newfound relief vanished, replaced by a tense silence.
He took a deep breath before continuing. "They plan to search his house—not just for information about you, but about magic itself. Your father's aura… it's strong. Very strong. I believe they are in search of new way to conquer magic."
"This is bad," Annabeth murmured, her hand stroking her chin thoughtfully. "The Vyre Stones might be there."
"We should get there before they do," Iris said calmly, already strategizing.
Eric shook his head. "Vyre Stones? I found no such thing in his house. I already went there. Cleared it. Everything that could have given them a hint—gone."
I guess Eric had an idea on what the Vyre Stones were.
Then he opened his briefcase. What spilled out left us in shock. Pebbles. Ordinary-looking stones.
"What… are those?" I whispered.
Eric's hand hovered above them, and as he channeled his aura, the stones glimmered faintly. Before our eyes, the harmless trinkets turned into books, gems, scrolls, and magical objects on the table . The items had been neutralized, hidden in plain sight, yet their essence remained.
Master Xavier immediately rose and approached the table, his gaze fixed on a small badge among the transformed items. He picked it up delicately, as if it might break.
"Andrew?" he asked softly, his voice almost reverent. "Amanda… is this your father's?"
Amanda blinked, confused. " I believe so, Sir."
I stepped closer, curiosity tugging at me. "Master… do you know it?"
He held it up, inspecting the insignia. "It belonged to Achlys' Kingdom. It was given to the head of the military forces back then. I didn't know who held it, but… your father may have been close to them."
The badge of Achlys' Kingdom was a striking emblem of authority and legacy. Shaped like an elongated hexagonal shield, its deep midnight-blue surface was framed by a thin band of polished gold, engraved with faint, cryptic runes that shimmered subtly in the light. At its center, a silver dragon coiled gracefully around a gleaming sword, its wings partially unfurled, hinting at both power and vigilance.
The badge radiated an aura of history and authority, a symbol that could command respect without a word.
Amanda's expression mirrored our surprise. My mind raced. If Andrew had been part of the kingdom's military forces, his skills, knowledge, and connections were far greater than we'd imagined. Questions about his past flooded my thoughts, but there was no time yet to ask.
Eric's voice cut through the silence. "Alright. That's all I need to say. I'll help you plan the escape. Once that's done, I'll head back."
Master Xavier returned to his seat, and the room shifted into focus, each of us moving into the rhythm of planning.
"Hunter," Jace's voice whispered, pulling me aside.
"Yeah?" I replied, moving closer to him.
"I don't mean to be a pest, but… do you really trust Eric?"
I understood. Doubt hung in the air like a thin veil, subtle but persistent. "Yes. I trust him. I know my judgment may not erase your doubts, but this one's on me."
Jace's brow furrowed. "He might be using this situation to draw us into the Purge Unit's trap."
"I understand," I said quietly. "But Eric has given me reasons to trust him. I'm giving him the benefit of the doubt—for now."
He sighed, a mixture of caution and reluctant acceptance. "I trust you, not him. But for your sake… fine."
"Thanks," I murmured. "Now, let's get to work."
The room fell silent, each of us focused, minds already running through contingencies. Outside, the sun climbed higher, ignorant of the danger approaching. But inside, we were ready—calm, strategized, and determined, even as the first shadows of conflict began to stir.
Soon enough, night fell, draping the town in shadows. We were ready to rescue one of our own. Every muscle tensed, every sense alert, as we waited for the streets to quiet and the last lights to flicker out.
Hooded cloaks covered our faces, disguising our identities in case anything went wrong. We moved into our predestined positions, each of us blending into the darkness, hearts beating in cautious anticipation. The town lay silent, unaware that a storm was about to descend upon it.
-----
Eric approached the prison under the cloak of night, every step measured, his senses alert. The building was quiet, the chaos of the day long gone, but as he drew near the holding cells, he froze.
There she was—Emma Adams, sitting across from Andrew, her tone sharp and insistent, papers and notes spread before her. She was asking questions, probing for answers, her eyes never leaving his. Any sudden movement on Eric's part would draw her attention immediately especially if Andrew happened to suddenly go after he had come to the cell.
Eric leaned against the shadowed wall, observing. Then, quietly, he searched the area and spotted a small ventilation hatch near the ceiling, a significant distance apart. A few whispered words, a subtle flick of his hand, and a faint shimmer in the vent suggested a minor disturbance—enough to draw her curiosity.
Emma's brow furrowed. "What was that?" she muttered, standing and moving toward the source. "I'll check it out."
Eric's pulse quickened as she walked away, leaving the cell momentarily empty. He slipped in immediately, closing the door softly behind him.
"Andrew," he whispered, low and urgent. "It's me. We don't have much time."