"Headmaster Aurelius Dreymark… here at this hour?"
Minister Crassus's voice carried practiced surprise, but his sharp eyes revealed the truth—he had been expecting this visit.
Aurelius stood unmoved, his presence calm yet immovable, like a mountain carved by centuries of storms."You should not look so startled, Minister," he replied evenly. "If my judgment serves me right, you foresaw my arrival the moment today's events unfolded."
Crassus exhaled slowly, then allowed a thin, sardonic smile to curve his lips."Perhaps," he admitted. "Yes… I suspected you might come. But you must also know—as well as I—that your visit is pointless. What you seek cannot be granted."
Silence stretched between them, sharp and deliberate.
Then Aurelius smiled—just slightly.
"Well," he said softly, "what harm is there in attempting the impossible?"
Crassus leaned back in his chair, fingers adorned with enchanted rings tapping idly against the oak table."Very well, Headmaster. If you insist… tell me, what aid do you expect from the Ministry?"
Before Aurelius could answer, Crassus gestured lazily."But first—tea, perhaps? Or wine?"
"Neither," Aurelius replied without hesitation. His gaze never wavered. "I seek no comfort here. I came to speak—and then to leave."
Crassus chuckled. "Ah… the great Dreymark fears I might lace his drink with a charm. A loyalty potion, perhaps?"
Aurelius laughed—a low, dangerous sound."Do not confuse caution with fear, Minister. You know better than anyone—your charms rot before touching my blood. I have no reason to fear you."
His expression hardened.
"And spare me your pretenses. I did not come to argue over Theron Ravencrest's arrest. You and your Ministry have rehearsed that farce thoroughly enough. You will never move against him."
For the first time, Crassus's composure cracked.
"If not that," he asked sharply, "then why are you here? I assumed you came to force my hand."
Aurelius leaned forward.
The room felt smaller.
"I do not waste my time on lost battles," he said calmly. "Half your Ministry already bows to Theron. One man—no matter his title—cannot chain him."
He straightened.
"I came with a warning."
Crassus stiffened.
"Tomorrow," Aurelius continued, his voice firm as judgment, "when you summon Theron before the Ministry to absolve his crimes, you will deliver this message."
The air thickened.
"Tell him this: he may twist kingdoms, slaughter bloodlines, and bend the world to his will—but he will keep his hands far from Grimswald. One more step toward my school, and I will not forgive him again."
Crassus swallowed.
"And there is a second matter."
At those words, the great oak table trembled.
Bound in blackened leather, etched with runes glowing like dying embers, lay the Ancient Book of Magic.
The air vibrated.
A low hum seeped from its pages, a sound that bypassed the ears and clawed directly at the soul. Shadows stretched unnaturally across the chamber walls, drawn toward the book like moths to flame. The scent of burnt parchment lingered, sharp and intoxicating.
Crassus's eyes flickered—just once—toward it.
Power pressed against his chest, seductive and suffocating, promising greatness at a cost too terrible to name.
"I will be taking the Book," Aurelius said evenly. "Tonight. That knowledge is no longer safe here."
Crassus surged to his feet."You cannot! That Book must never leave this chamber! It endangers everything—the Ministry, the professors, even the balance of magic itself!"
"Enough."
Aurelius's voice rolled like distant thunder.
His eyes glowed faintly, and the pressure in the room doubled.
"Do not test me, Minister. I honor this Ministry out of respect—not fear. But tell me… does it still deserve that respect?"
His words cut deep.
"When it shelters murderers? When it closes its eyes to Theron Ravencrest's atrocities?"
Crassus opened his mouth—but Aurelius was not finished.
"You believe the Book is safe here?" His gaze burned. "Theron Ravencrest stood in these halls yesterday. He came for it. Had I not arrived when I did, this chamber—and everything you value—would already be ash. Just like the Valestra bloodline."
The room turned cold.
Crassus's breath caught.
After a long moment, he forced himself to speak."I cannot stop you, Dreymark," he said quietly. "But tell me—where will you take it? If you bring it to Grimswald, you endanger your students. Even your professors may not withstand its pull."
Aurelius turned toward the door.
"You waste breath," he said. "You think Theron still frightens me—but you forget something crucial."
He paused.
"He has lost his strength."
His voice dropped, heavy with certainty.
"And before he reclaims it, I will raise an army capable of crushing him."
His cloak swept behind him like the edge of a storm.
"This time, Crassus, when light and shadow clash again—the light will not falter."
With that, Aurelius Dreymark left the chamber.
Minister Crassus remained standing, fists clenched, heart pounding. The echoes of Dreymark's footsteps faded—but the chill he left behind did not.
For the first time in years, the Minister understood something terrifying.
Those were not threats.