Cornered

Unfortunately, Lysander wasn't at the library. It wasn't entirely unexpected, but it was the first place I thought to look. Feeling a bit disappointed, I dropped by the library's front desk and returned a few scrolls. The spellbooks fell into the basket with a thump, startling Thron, who was busy transcribing a work behind the counter.

"What seems to be the problem? Was that third-circle spell not to your liking?"

"Ah, no, it was fine. I already learned it, so I'm just returning it."

He stared at me for a second, then placed down his quill and sat back. "You already learned it? But it's been barely two days."

"It was an easy one, called Reflection. The runes are pretty straightforward, so it didn't take much to memorize." I quickly regretted saying as much. One thing I learned was to avoid drawing attention. A slave wasn't supposed to be threatening, after all.

"Even so," he said, shaking his head, "Two days is probably a new record or something. Care to show me?"

I hesitated but decided against it. "I'd rather not. I'm looking for an elderly man named Lysander. Do you know where I can find him?" I didn't hold much hope. There were likely thousands of visits every week, and even the head librarian would have a hard time keeping track.

"Lysander? Of course I know where to find him! Might as well ask where the king lives," Thron huffed.

"Oh, sorry. Is he someone important?"

"I guess you could say that," Thron chuckled. "He's one of the few ninth-circle casters at the Divine Throne. Kind of an odd fellow, though. Always obsessed with research and obscure magic. Then again, you can't expect someone of that talent to be normal. What makes you think he'll see you?"

From my short time among the mages here, I learned exactly how rare a ninth-level caster was. They were men and women who moved mountains. Each of their words held the weight of an emperor, and no one dared to offend them. With Lysander's identity, it was amazing he bothered speaking with me at all! Why indeed did I expect him to see me?

"I didn't know he was that incredible, but I still want to try. He helped me learn a few spells the first time I came here, after that other librarian ran off. He gave me some useful information, which I wanted to follow up with."

It must have sounded convincing enough, because Thron stroked his cheek, deep in thought. After a moment, he said, "Well, I suppose it won't hurt to try. But don't say I didn't warn you. He's not often kind to any who disrupt his work, or any visitors, for that matter."

I breathed a sigh of relief, waiting patiently as the librarian wrote a few instructions from me. The list of turns and stairs kept growing. There was no way I'd find that on my own.

As Thron finished, he blew on the paper to dry the ink. "By the way, you mentioned that priest left you?" he asked with a frown.

"Yeah. I don't remember his name, but he wasn't exactly friendly. As soon as we got to the third floor, he left and made it very clear I wasn't to ask anything."

"That guy…" Thron said with a sigh. "Sorry about that. He was supposed to show you around and help you make a few selections, but I guess Lysander took care of that anyway. I can't exactly blame him, as his father was one of the casualties of the war, but it seems we need to have a chat."

"It's okay. And thank you for the help." If I made a list of all the times people had treated me poorly since coming here, it might even be longer than the instructions to Lysander's quarters. From the look of things, he was at the top, where the upper echelon and important guests resided. Figures.

As I climbed higher within the Divine Throne, the priests seemed of a different quality, with finer clothes and an array of magic items like staffs and wands. Unused to the sight of a Demonkin, many stared at me with disgust and hostility. The more powerful they seemed, the greater the hatred, making it obvious my presence was unwelcome among the upper echelon.

Aside from the atmosphere, the structure itself became increasingly more lavish the higher I ascended. The lower levels were built like a Fortress, with arrow slits and reinforced walls and doors. Here, the windows were wide and spacious, overlooking the expansive complex and giving views outside the walls, to the city of Roann.

It was truly a magnificent sight, one that came close to taking my breath away. The city sprawled for miles in all directions, with streets like rivers, flowing with joyful throngs of people. Crowded markets and extravagant architecture gave a sense of the affluence of the kingdom.

From what I'd heard, the Divine Throne was the crowning jewel of the city. Even so, an enormous castle challenged the claim, rising to near-equal heights on the other side of Roann. It was the home of the King of Radia, where the royal family and their nobles lived. I'd seen little of their family, aside from the first and second princes. I felt a little affinity for the first prince, who had allowed Soltair to choose me that fateful day in the warehouse. By all reports, he was strong and noble, unchallenged by any of his generation. The second prince, Vorinc, was someone I knew a little too well. Ever since our first encounter at the mage training grounds, he had constantly protested and rallied the mages against me, using his influence and status to make it so even Selena was reluctant to train me for long. Just thinking of his arrogant face caused my mood to sour, and I soon lost interest in the city.

The sequence of instructions led me to an interior corridor, devoid of windows or passages. It was dark and narrow, ending in a door that supposedly turned into a flight of spiral staircases. I paused midway down the corridor as my mana, unbidden, rushed into my body. Instead of the usual seductive warmth, it was a bitter cold that sent shivers down my spine.

The sensation got my thoughts racing. Why would the entrance to the wealthiest and most influential level of the Divine Throne be shrouded in shadows? I looked down at the instructions, quickly reading over them until I found my error. Looking at the city distracted me, and I ended up taking a wrong turn.

Simple enough, but it still didn't explain the sudden rush of mana. I looked around, taking a few hesitant steps back to the exterior corridor. Before I got far, the sun was blotted out as a group of figures walked by. One looked in as the passed, and his eyes narrowed.

"There she is," he said loudly, drawing the attention of the rest of the group.

I backed away, reaching for my mana and drawing confidence from its strength. There was no reason a group of priests might be looking for me. None.

They piled into the corridor, smiling widely. They swaggered forward, stopping as they formed a semicircle around me. I counted nearly ten of them, but no continuity between their deities. Most wore the trappings of the Sun God, but I spotted disciples of Water and War, as well.

"You've led us on quite a chase, filthblood," one spat, leaning against the wall. The other priests moved respectfully around him, and I couldn't help but feel his face was familiar. My breath caught in my throat as I recalled the conversation with Thron, the priest's name coming to my lips.

"Davin."

His eyes widened, but his lips curved into a smile. "I'm surprised you remember me. I guess that makes this personal."

"Personal? You barely talked to me. What are you trying to do?" I asked, buying time as I looked around. The priests continued to spread out till I was fully surrounded. For some reason, I was sure which ones currently held their mana, a feeling completely new to me. They glowed with a faint light visible to my eyes alone.

Davin's smile disappeared, and he stood up, agitated. "You claim to have done nothing, yet you swagger along our halls, polluting this place with your mere presence. When they somehow allowed you into our holy library, filled with the faith of thousands, I could barely contain myself. Now, I don't have to."

I stiffened, his remarks bringing a surge of indignation. Even though I knew he wasn't here for words, I couldn't stop them from flowing out. "I'm not here because I want to! You think I asked to be a Demonkin? To be Reborn as a hero? I just wanted to die!" My voice fell to a whisper, but my words pierced the stunned silence. "To die and be forgotten."

The priests looked at each other, taken aback by my sudden outburst. They all looked at Davin, who shook his head, as though clearing his thoughts.

"If only that were true. I can't fathom the depth of your sins and wickedness, who made even the merciful gods condemn you and place you in the body of evil."

"Yeah, that's why we destroyed your county in the first place!" another priest chimed in.

"My country?" I asked, having regained control of myself. As far as I knew, I had no country. Perhaps he meant the beast kingdom, which my host supposedly was enslaved from.

"Enough chat," a burly priest in the back said. "Why talk when we can show her? I can't tolerate this abomination staining our halls any longer!"

Auras erupted from the priests in all directions, slamming against me as they all grabbed their mana and began to cast spells. I took a deep breath and steeled my will. It was about time I had my first fight.