They followed Dame Arden towards the Citadel on horseback, as it was quite late to call a carriage. Soon enough, they arrived at a large, heavily reinforced wooden gate. Beyond the gate was a wide, winding and inclined road leading to a great fortress.
The Citadel rose above its surroundings like a carved monument of stone and iron. Trails of bougainvillaea flowers climbed and sprawled over its round watchtowers, softening its appearance and giving a touch of delicate beauty to the stern and domineering structure.
Nodding at the guards who saluted her, Dame Arden led the group inside. The Citadel was quiet, understandably so, as it was past midnight. They were taken to a wing that housed accommodations for guests.
At the entrance, Dame Arden stopped and saluted them. "This is where we part. I'll see you in the morning."
"Thank you, Dame."
As she retreated, a couple of servants on night shift immediately took their belongings and led them to their respective bedrooms. Although it was deep into the night, they showed no sign of impatience.
"Would you like to clean up first? We have the finest thermal baths in all of the Dominions." One of the maids politely asked, noticing their dishevelled appearances.
Flint groaned. "I'm exhausted. I'll go in the morning."
Hearing that, Armand chuckled. "You're covered in dust from head to toe. Aren't you afraid the Magistrate will charge us a cleaning fee tomorrow?"
Flint grumbled, but did not move.
Armand turned towards the maid and smiled. "I would love to. Darryl, will you come with me?"
"Ah, yes!"
"I'm coming too," Seraphine said, seemingly excited at the prospect of a bath.
The maid, caught in the full force of Armand's smile, blushed and said in a fluster, "Uh... of course, please let me show you the way."
She was not exaggerating when she said the baths were the best across all Dominions. In the men's section only, five separate pools sprawled across the grand space. Each pool was fed by steaming mineral water and set at different temperatures. Above them stretched a vast, domed ceiling covered in elaborate frescoes and small perforations that would allow natural light in during the day.
"Ahh..." Flint sighed in satisfaction as he lowered himself into the steaming pool after washing himself clean. "Well, aren't you glad I insisted on going here, Armand?"
Armand just rolled his eyes.
He turned towards Darryl, who seemed to be hesitating. "What's wrong, Darryl? Do you need help washing up?"
"No, no!" Darryl hurriedly shook his head. He looked uncertain as he clenched the towel that covered his body. "I've washed up. I just... I don't know if it's okay for me to go in."
"What do you mean?" Then, as realisation dawned on him, Armand smiled kindly and put his arm around the boy's shoulder, leading him towards the bath. "Don't be silly, of course it's okay."
The boy still looked downcast as he removed his towel and slowly submerged himself, until only his head was barely above water. He spoke softly. "I don't even know why I'm here. I'm practically useless. I'm just a burden to you guys."
Armand and Flint exchanged looks. To be fair, they still were not sure why Seraphine had brought Darryl along, even though he had shown potential as a mage with a rare nullification ability. But the boy had proven himself to be loyal, brave, and good at reading situations.
Flint grunted. "Don't be too disheartened, boy. There's a long road ahead of you, but it's never too late to learn." He went quiet for a bit before proposing, "If you want, I can teach you some swordsmanship. It's never a bad idea to learn how to defend yourself."
Excitement sparked in Darryl's eyes, his expression immediately brightened. "Is that...are you sure, Mr. Blackthorn?"
"Just call me Flint, will you."
"Ah, yes!"
"And yes, I don't mind as long as it doesn't interfere with our mission." Flint stretched lazily. "But keep in mind, I'm not a generous or patient teacher."
"That's fine! I'll do my best!"
Armand smiled as the boy became energised. Between the two of them, Flint would be the better choice as a teacher. Holy knights tended to be chosen from children around the age of 5 who demonstrated an ability to hold divine power. Their swordsmanship style also tended to be unique to the Temple, with the use of divine power in mind, which would not be suitable for everyone.
"In that case..." Armand mulled over. "Darryl, can you read and write?"
The boy's face flushed slightly, perhaps from both the heat and shyness. "A-a little bit, from Anya. I'm not great at it, though."
"That's fine, a little is good. How about calculation?"
"Ah, yes, I helped a bit with the calculations when the uncles needed to buy or sell something."
"Very good. Then, after you practice with Flint in the morning, come to me, and I will teach you other stuff."
Darryl's face, flushed red, looked like it could almost explode from excitement.
"Thank you! Thank you very much!" He tried to bow, but being in water, he had to dunk his entire head. Armand and Flint chuckled.
*****
In the women's section of the thermal bath, the place was serene and calm. Seraphine gently stepped into one of the pools, enjoying the rising heat. Although she could shape Mizan's environment to her liking, nothing could beat natural thermal baths.
With her long, dark hair tied up in a bun, she leaned back at the edge of the bath and closed her eyes, reflecting on the events that had transpired.
While she had suspected that 'he' had been the one behind the children's kidnapping, she did not expect to encounter Freya.
The memory of the blonde-haired mage lying on the ground, her lower body partially blown off, rushed back to her vividly. There was no way she would have mistaken her death. After all, it was Istaroth herself who put an end to her.
So now the question was, was that really Freya? If yes, how did 'he' manage to resurrect her? If no, how could 'he' replicate not only her exact physical features, but also her mana trace?
For mages, who manipulated mana as naturally as breathing, the mana they absorbed and then emitted was as unique to them as their fingerprints. Visually, these were represented in colours, but they could be deceiving. Instead, high-level mages like Seraphine identified each other by 'mana trace', a particular, signature magic residue that mages naturally produced just by existing.
"Nonsense. If he could bring back the dead, then he'd be a god by now." She muttered to herself. So the likely answer was that 'he' was able to create or transform a body to an exact clone of Freya, put her memories in it, and end up with a being so close to the original it could replicate her mana trace?
Seraphine sighed. Quietly, she extracted her mirror shard from her sub-space and lifted it up in the air.
"Nyra."
The broken mirror piece glinted as it caught light from the arcane ember hung on the walls, then slowly reflected an image of a pair of golden eyes belonging to a snow leopard.
"Seraphine. How are you?"
"I'm fine, Nyra. Sorry for calling you so late at night."
"Time hardly matters in here, my dear, as you already know. Speak your worry."
"Mm." She sighed. It had been less than a week, and she was already reaching out to Nyra. Deep inside, Seraphine felt a bit embarrassed. "Nyra, I met Freya today. Do you remember her?"
"The previous Archmage of the Scarlet Tower?"
"Her in the flesh."
"That's impossible. Istaroth killed her that day."
"So did my memory tell me." Seraphine cast a floating spell on the mirror shard so she did not have to hold it. "But it was her, or a very good replica of her. Even her mana trace was the same - there was no way I would forget that crazy woman's mana."
"Hmm..."
A silence fell between the two of them. Then Nyra spoke. "Did you tell Istaroth?"
"I'm hoping to see her tomorrow morning... I guess that's actually today, considering how late it is."
Seraphine fell silent again.
"Freya... she called me a traitor."
"Hmph." The snow leopard snorted. "How audacious. Seraphine, you know better than to listen to that nonsense. But this means that she's still working for that person?"
"I assume so."
"Then it's even more urgent for you to talk to Istaroth. I didn't expect him to find out about your involvement this soon, or for him to recover this fast. Oh well, it's probably unavoidable." Nyra sighed. "Speaking of which, how are your companions?"
"...better than I expected."
"Oh? Then that's good." Nyra yawned. "I should go. If you keep using your power to awaken me, it'd be too hard on your body."
Seraphine's downcast eyes softened the snow leopard's heart. "I'll always be here, you know. Get some sleep, you'll need it."
"...okay."