Tianna Crownguard remained silent long after the ashen-haired man had finished recounting the tale of the devils from his homeland. The room was heavy with thought, even the faint echo of the torches along the marble walls seemed subdued.
Eldred Crownguard, her husband and the austere leader of the Mageseekers, was the first to speak. His sharp, calculating eyes fixed on Asta.
"So these… devils," he said slowly, the word tasting bitter on his tongue. "You're saying they were all eradicated? Every last one?"
Asta shook his head, his expression steady. "I doubt it. We took down a lot of them, sure, but we only hit specific regions of the underworld. Our main goal was to stop the Tree of Qliphoth from being completed. Once we destroyed it, we cut off their only stable way into our world. Without it, a large-scale invasion became impossible."
Eldred's brows furrowed. "And yet, one of those devils managed to cross through," he said, his tone edged with disapproval.
Asta shrugged lightly. "There'll always be exceptions. Sometimes a devil slips through. Sometimes a human ends up on their side instead. That's just how it works. It's not something that can be controlled. But another invasion like the one we faced? That's not happening. Not without the Tree."
The Mageseeker's lips pressed into a thin line. "Still, to allow creatures of such danger to remain unchecked..."
Asta cut him off, his tone firm but not hostile. "If they're not attacking anyone, then there's no reason to go after them."
The room went quiet again. Several nobles shifted uncomfortably in their seats at the implication, mercy toward monsters was not something Demacians were accustomed to hearing.
From across the table, Vayne leaned back in her chair, arms crossed and expression sharp as glass. "Of course you'd say that," she muttered under her breath, voice laced with contempt.
Tianna shot her a brief, warning glance but said nothing. Asta's gaze flicked toward Vayne for a moment, his eyes calm but unyielding.
He didn't bother responding.
Tianna's tone was calm but probing as she folded her hands on the table. "And how exactly did you and this devil end up in Castle Wrenwall?"
Asta scratched the back of his head, visibly uneasy. "Well… it's kind of a long story. My squad was sent by the current Wizard Queen to investigate some strange events near our kingdom's border. During the mission, we discovered that one of the devils had slipped through and made a contract with a grave robber."
Eldred's brow furrowed. "A grave robber?"
"Yeah," Asta said with a sigh. "When we confronted him, the guy panicked. He thought we were there to arrest him for robbing graves, not for consorting with devils. Things got messy. We could've handled it better, but it ended up in a fight. He wasn't much of a match for our squad, but when he realized he was losing, he tried to run."
He leaned forward slightly, his tone growing more serious. "The grave robber had spatial magic—he could open rifts to escape or sneak into places. When he tried to teleport, I used my anti-magic to stop him. But… I underestimated just how scared of me devils are now. Just how desperate the devil inside him was. The devil poured all of its power into the spell to escape me. The clash between our magics, spatial magic and anti magic, was disastrous."
He paused, his gaze distant for a moment. "Next thing I knew, we were somewhere else entirely."
A faint grimace crossed his face. "The grave robber didn't survive the jump. The magic tore him apart, leaving just the devil and me in a strange, unfamiliar place. That's when things got worse. The devil suddenly started laughing, said something about how the land itself was overflowing with magic, more than I could ever hope to erase. Before I could react, he used that power to freeze the entire castle solid."
Asta gave a small, sheepish smile. "I was still disoriented from the jump, so I couldn't stop him in time. I guess… I owe you all an apology for that."
Eldred paused at Asta's explanation, his expression tightening as he exchanged a glance with Prince Jarvan. The prince's brow furrowed slightly, the faintest grimace crossing his face.
'So just like Sylas, the devil was able to draw magic directly from the petricite foundations of Castle Wrenwall,' Jarvan thought grimly.
Tianna gave a slow nod. "That confirms several of the reports we received," she said thoughtfully. "So the ice was indeed the devil's handiwork. Most of it had already melted by the time the First Shield and the Dragon Guard arrived on scene."
Asta gave a faint, sheepish grin. "Yeah. I tried to help get the town back in order after that. It was my mess to clean up, after all."
Tianna acknowledged the remark with a small nod before folding her hands neatly atop the table. "I see. You've provided your account of how you came to arrive in Demacia, and for now, we will take your words as truth." Her eyes narrowed slightly, her tone shifting to one of measured authority. "However, that leaves us with a more pressing matter. What do you plan to do now?"
Her gaze fixed on Asta. "Sword-Captain Garen Crownguard informed us that you claimed the rights of an Emissary, that you are here as an official Ambassador of the Clover Kingdom to Demacia."
Prince Jarvan leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. His tone was calm, but his golden eyes gleamed with quiet challenge. "And what makes you so certain that such a title carries any weight here?" he asked. "You've admitted that your kingdom lies in another world, and you've yet to mention any means of returning there."
Asta only shrugged, unfazed by the prince's scrutiny. The casual motion made one of Jarvan's brows twitch in irritation.
"This isn't the first time I've ended up somewhere strange," Asta said with an easy grin. "Stranger things have happened to me before. I don't doubt that Finral will find a way here eventually. It might take some time, sure, but I trust my squad. They'll come for me."
He leaned back slightly, the grin softening into something more resolute. "And if it turns out they can't… then I'll find my way back myself. I'm not the type to give up. I still have to become the Wizard King, after all."
The word Wizard king seemed to draw murmurs from the nobles gathered in a wider circle around the centre table. Most of them discontent.
Across the table, Tianna Crownguard arched an eyebrow, a faint hint of disapproval flickering beneath her composed demeanor. "Yes," she said. "You've mentioned that title several times now. The Wizard King, he is the ruler of your kingdom, yes?"
Asta shook his head immediately. "Not exactly," he said. "The Wizard King isn't the monarch of the Clover Kingdom. He's the leader of the kingdom's military forces, the strongest mage in the entire realm. The title of wizard king is the designated leader of the Clover Kingdom's forces. It is a role of power and distinction. They are the most famous and influential figures in the entire nation, and their fame spreads around the world."
He paused for a moment, his tone steady but carrying a faint pride. "The king handles politics and domestic matters. But the Wizard King, he's the symbol of hope and strength. Every Magic Knight, every citizen looks up to him. His name echoes across nations, not because of birthright, but because of what he's done."
Asta's eyes hardened, determination glinting in the pale torchlight. "It is a title earned solely by merit. You have to be the strongest and greatest mage in the entire nation to earn the title."
The chamber fell silent again. Tianna studied him for a long moment, as if weighing his words.
Tianna's eyes lingered on Asta for a long moment, the flickering torchlight reflected faintly in her gaze. The tension in the chamber was palpable, quiet, but sharp as a drawn blade.
When she finally spoke, her tone was measured, deliberate. "A title earned by merit alone," she said. "An admirable system… though one built entirely around magic."
Her eyes narrowed slightly. "And you must understand, Sir Asta, Demacia is not like your Clover Kingdom. Here, magic is not a symbol of hope."
That single word, magic, seemed to weigh heavy in the air. Around the table, several of the nobles stiffened. Vayne's fingers drummed against the armrest of her chair; Eldred's jaw tightened ever so slightly.
Asta sighed, sensing the shift in atmosphere. "Yeah," he said quietly. "I picked up on that."
Eldred leaned forward, his tone cold and sharp. "Then you understand our concern. Magic is a poison that corrupts even the best of men. We've seen it destroy families, topple cities, and turn good people into monsters. And yet you..." his eyes narrowed.
Asta's eyes didn't waver. "You're wrong."
The words were soft but carried through the hall like steel against stone. Eldred's expression hardened instantly, but Asta continued before anyone could interrupt.
"Magic isn't good or bad," he said, his voice steady, unflinching. "It's what people do with it that matters. I've seen devils use it to destroy lives… but I've also seen people use it to save them. People without a single drop of malice in their hearts."
He looked straight at Eldred then, meeting the man's scorn head-on. "If you've only ever seen magic bring pain, then maybe you've just been looking at the wrong people."
A low murmur rippled through the room. It was the kind of thing no outsider would ever dare say in Demacia, especially not to the Mageseekers. Vayne's eyes narrowed to slits, and even Tianna's calm expression faltered for a brief second.
Eldred's voice came low and dangerous. "Careful, boy."
Asta simply shrugged. "I've fought things that could swallow whole countries. You don't scare me."
Prince Jarvan finally raised a hand, breaking the rising tension before it could explode. "That's enough," he said firmly. His gaze shifted to Asta, still intense but more analytical than angry. "You're not wrong that magic itself can be used for good or ill…" He glanced behind him, where Shyvana stood guard to protect him. "...but you're speaking to a nation built upon the suffering it caused. Do not expect words alone to change what centuries of scars have done."
Internally Jarvan continued. 'It didn't stop my father from being killed by magic.'
Asta nodded. "I don't. I'm not here to change your nation. I never even planned to stay at all. But I stayed to prove that not everyone who wields magic is your enemy."
That seemed to quiet the room, not entirely calm, but no longer teetering on the edge of hostility. Tianna regarded him with an unreadable expression, while Vayne's glare lingered, sharp and untrusting.
After a moment, Tianna spoke again, her voice softer but still edged with authority. "And yet, despite that claim, you brought chaos to our borders and devastation to Wrenwall, however unintentionally. You must understand that to many in this room, you are still a threat."
Asta didn't flinch. "I get that," he said. "But if I really wanted to harm this place, I wouldn't be standing here talking to you."
"Speaking of chaos," Eldred said, as he glanced at the boy who stood behind Asta yet hadn't spoken a word since. "Would you explain what is going on with that child behind you."
Darryl felt the weight of the room crash onto his shoulders all at once. The stares of nobles, Mageseekers, and soldiers pressed down on him harder than any physical force ever could. He froze, his small hands tightening around the edges of the Black Bull cloak that hung loosely from his frame, the insignia swaying faintly as though trying to shield him.
Asta took a subtle step forward, positioning himself between the boy and the scrutiny of the council. "He's under my protection," he said firmly.
Eldred's eyes narrowed. "That isn't what I asked, foreigner. I asked what he is."
The words sent a shiver through the chamber. Tianna's frown deepened, but she didn't interrupt.
Asta's jaw tightened. "He's a kid," he said, voice even but carrying a quiet defiance. "A Demacian, just like you. The only difference is that he was born with magic."
Murmurs rippled through the gathered nobles, sharp whispers, laced with disbelief and disgust. Vayne scoffed openly, her fingers tightening against her armrest. "And you took him under your wing? How noble," she said coldly. "You're harboring a danger to our people."
Asta's gaze flicked to her, calm yet cutting.
Vayne's lips parted, but Tianna raised a hand before the argument could spiral. Her tone was cool, controlled. "Sir Asta, you understand how such an act can be perceived in Demacia. Harboring a magic-born, even a child, is a direct violation of the Crown's edicts."
"I understand," Asta said, his voice steady. "But I wasn't about to let your soldiers drag a crying boy into chains. I've seen what happens to people when they're treated like monsters for something they never chose. I won't stand by and let that happen again."
For a long moment, Tianna simply studied him, this foreigner who spoke with the conviction of someone who had already carried a thousand battles on his back.
Then her gaze shifted to Darryl. "Child," she said softly, though her voice still held the authority of a noble. "Is this true? You possess magic?"
Darryl hesitated, his breath trembling. He looked up at Asta, who gave him a small, encouraging nod. The boy swallowed hard and took a timid step forward.
"Y-Yes," he admitted quietly. "It's true. But I don't hurt people! I, I never want to."
Vayne's brow arched, unimpressed. "That's what they all say."
"Enough," Tianna said sharply. Then, softer, "What kind of magic?"
"Asta said it's earth magic," Darryl answered honestly, shaking his head. "Sometimes… i help my mom make the ground softer so she doesn't have to hurt herself digging. It's easier to till the fields."
The boy's voice cracked at the end, and for a fleeting moment, even Tianna's expression softened.
Eldred, however, was unmoved. His gaze was cold, his voice sharper than a blade. "You expect us to simply let him walk freely under the protection of a man who refuses to acknowledge the laws of this land?"
Asta met that gaze head-on. "Yeah," he said simply. "Because locking him up won't make him any safer, for you or for himself."
The Mageseeker's chair scraped faintly against the marble floor as he leaned forward. "You speak as though you understand the consequences of magic better than Demacia itself."
"I've lived them," Asta replied. His tone wasn't boastful, just matter-of-fact. "I've fought people who thought magic made them gods, and I've fought devils who thought they could rule the world. I've seen what real danger looks like. This kid?" He glanced back at Darryl. "He's not it."
The silence that followed was thick, the kind that carried the weight of judgment. The nobles exchanged looks, Tianna's eyes lowered briefly, while Jarvan tapped a finger against the table, thoughtful.
Finally, the prince broke the quiet. "You do realize," he said, his tone measured, "that by protecting him, you are also placing yourself under Demacia's scrutiny. If he loses control, even once, the fault will rest entirely on your shoulders. Even as an ambassador, your position won't save you."
Asta didn't blink. "Then I'll take that risk."
Tianna's lips parted, but she found no immediate retort. His words hung in the air like an unshakable vow.
After a long pause, she sighed softly. "Very well. Until a proper ruling is made, the boy will remain under your guardianship. But understand this, Sir Asta, any harm that comes to Demacian citizens by his hand, or by yours, will be answered with the full weight of our law."
Asta nodded once. "Fair enough."
Eldred scowled, clearly displeased. "You're allowing sentiment to cloud judgment, my lady," he muttered.
Tianna's tone cooled instantly. "And you're allowing fear to replace reason, Lord Eldred. Demacia does not strike children in chains while they still have a chance to be guided."
Her husband's mouth tightened, but he said nothing further.
That answer drew silence again.
Then Tianna exhaled slowly and leaned back in her chair. "We will take your explanation under advisement. For now, you remain under Demacian custody, as a guest, though your movements will be restricted until further notice."
Asta smiled faintly, nodding. "Fair enough. I can work with that."
The casual tone earned him another round of wary looks, but Tianna ignored them. "Very well. The council will adjourn for now. Sir Asta, we will summon you again once the council has deliberated."
As the nobles began to rise from their seats, their hushed whispers filled the chamber, the words mage, monster, and devilspawn echoing faintly under their breath.
Through it all, Asta simply stood, calm and steady. The weight of their mistrust was nothing new to him. He'd lived with it his entire life.
Asta waited until most of them had left before glancing back at Darryl, who still looked uncertain.
"Hey," Asta said, resting a hand on his shoulder. "You did great in there."
Darryl looked up, nervous but relieved. "Are… are we in trouble?"
Asta grinned. "Probably. But don't worry, that's kind of my specialty."
---
- MageSeekers Master's Office -
Within a vast, white-clad chamber that resembled a cathedral more than an office, the air was filled with the deep, resonant tones of a white and gold pipe organ. Sunlight streamed through the tall stained-glass windows, scattering soft rays across polished marble floors and gilded pillars.
Seated before the instrument was Eldred Crownguard, the stoic and calculating leader of the MageSeekers. His expression was calm, almost meditative, as his fingers glided across the keys in precise, deliberate motion. It had only been a few hours since the mage from another world had stood before the Council of Demacia, yet Eldred's mind still lingered on that meeting.
The rhythmic echo of footsteps approached from behind him. Without turning, Eldred's voice broke the stillness, smooth and cold. "So now you know how it feels, Wisteria, when a prisoner escapes."
The music did not falter as he spoke, though there was an edge of disappointment woven into the melody.
The woman who entered, a MageSeeker with violet hair and a half-golden mask covering the left side of her face, bowed her head in shame.
"He defeated me in combat, sir," she said softly. "Please… punish me as you see fit."
The organ's final note lingered, then faded. Eldred rose from his seat, his long coat shifting with the motion, and turned to face her fully. "Don't let this become personal, Wisteria," he warned, his tone firm but not unkind. "If you do, your judgment will be clouded."
Wisteria's hands clenched at her sides. "Sylas has betrayed everything we were taught. I still have control over my magic, but he… he's become a monster."
Eldred regarded her quietly for a moment before giving a slow nod. "You have the strength that he does not. And we will need that strength. With the king dead, the kingdom teeters on the edge of instability. Jarvan IV is still young, his rule fragile." His gaze drifted toward the tall window, where the banners of Demacia hung heavy in the light. "This rebellion endangers more than our order. And now, with a mage from another world taking residence within our borders…"
He paused, the faintest frown forming. "The balance grows ever more uncertain."
Wisteria's eyes widened beneath the glint of her half-golden mask. "Sir? A mage from another world? What do you mean?"
Eldred turned away from her, his hands clasped neatly behind his back as he gazed out through the tall, arched window. The afternoon light painted the white walls in soft gold. "You've been away on assignment, Wisteria. It seems you've missed quite a few developments."
His tone was calm but deliberate as he recounted the events of the past few days, the mysterious arrival of the foreign mage, the disturbance at Castle Wrenwall, and the subsequent council meeting that had left half the court unsettled and the other half silent.
When he finished, Wisteria's brows furrowed in disbelief. "And the council allowed this to happen? I don't understand. He's a mage, a foreign one at that! A threat who openly flaunts his magic before our very eyes. Why has he not been accosted?" Her voice grew sharper, frustration edging her tone. "Forgive me, Lord Eldred, but that trial was a sham!"
Eldred let out a quiet chuckle, a dry sound that carried little warmth. "No need to apologize. I am well aware of how much of a 'sham' it was." He turned slightly, his expression unreadable. "It seems my wife was… persuaded by the accounts given by her nephew and the stories spun by this young mage. They are cautious, afraid, even. If even a fraction of his claims hold truth, then he is incredibly powerful. To provoke him recklessly would be unwise, and costly."
Wisteria took a step forward, fists tightening at her sides. "What are you going to do, Lord Eldred? Surely you don't intend to let him wander freely? I doubt he's as powerful as he pretends to be. We can't allow a mage to roam Demacia unchecked."
Eldred smiled faintly, though the gesture never reached his eyes. He turned from the window, walking back toward the organ as his gloved fingers brushed across its gilded frame.
"What will I do indeed…" he murmured, the quiet hum of his voice carrying a hint of amusement, and something far more dangerous beneath.