CHAPTER 29: SERENYA’S CHOICE

Serenya’s POV

The message arrived at dawn, delivered by water magic that condensed from the morning mist into words that hung in the air before Serenya’s eyes.

...They’re going to execute him. Today. Sunset. - J...

Serenya sat in her garden, a cup of tea cooling in her hands as she read Joanna’s urgent message. Around her, roses climbed the walls of her sanctuary, their petals still damp with dew. The morning was peaceful, beautiful even. The kind of morning that made you forget the world was full of injustice and suffering.

But Joanna’s message shattered that illusion completely.

She set down her tea and stood, her movements unhurried despite the urgency of the situation. Twenty years of careful neutrality. Twenty years of watching events unfold from the shadows, never interfering, never taking sides. Twenty years of telling herself that the world’s problems were not her responsibility.

All of that was about to end.

Serenya walked through her house, her bare feet silent on the wooden floors. She passed shelves lined with ancient texts, artifacts that hummed with dormant power, and windows that looked out onto a garden that shouldn’t exist in the middle of Luminis. This place was her sanctuary, built with magic so old that even the Conclave had forgotten it existed.

She had been content here. Safe and aone.

But something about Kaelen Valerius had changed that contentment into restlessness.

Serenya had seen it before. Too many times. Talented young people with real power crushed by systems that feared what they couldn’t control. She had watched it happen, over and over, telling herself it wasn’t her place to interfere.

But this time felt different.

Maybe it was because Kaelen’s Aether magic reminded her of older, better times. Maybe it was because she saw in him a chance to finally challenge the Conclave’s stranglehold on magical knowledge. Or maybe...and this was the thought that made her pause...maybe she was just tired of being a coward.

Three women. Against the entire Conclave. Against the city guard. Against centuries of established law and order.

The smart thing would be to do nothing. To stay hidden, stay safe, stay neutral.

Serenya smiled at her reflection in the mirror. When had she ever been smart about these things?

She began to prepare.

First, the protective wards around her sanctuary. She would need to strengthen them, make them capable of hiding not just herself but four people and a rather large wolf. Her fingers traced patterns in the air, weaving layers of concealment magic that would make this place invisible to any scrying or tracking spells the Conclave might use.

Next, she gathered supplies. Healing herbs for the inevitable injuries. Food and water, since they would need to lie low for a while. A few artifacts that might prove useful in a fight, though she hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

Finally, she changed her clothes. The simple dress she’d been wearing was replaced by more practical traveling gear...sturdy pants, a fitted tunic, boots designed for running. She braided her silver hair back from her face and checked the small knives hidden in her belt.

Just in case.

A shimmer in the air announced Joanna’s arrival. The water mage appeared in Serenya’s garden, slightly out of breath from whatever method she’d used to travel so quickly.

"You got my message," Joanna said. It wasn’t a question.

"I did." Serenya gestured for her to come inside. "Tiara?"

"Meeting us at the hall. She’s creating a distraction at the eastern gate to draw some guards away." Joanna followed her into the house, her eyes scanning the interior with professional interest. "This place is remarkable. I’ve walked past this location a hundred times and never noticed it."

"That’s the point," Serenya replied.

"They’ll try to stop us."

"Let them try." Serenya’s smile was sharp. "I didn’t spend twenty years mastering old magic just to be intimidated by council magisters."

Joanna studied her for a long moment. "You know what this means, don’t you? Helping him, attacking a council session, harboring a fugitive... they’ll mark you for execution too."

"I know."

"You’ll lose everything. This sanctuary, your safety, your neutrality. Everything you’ve built here."

"I know," Serenya repeated. She met Joanna’s eyes steadily. "Are you trying to talk me out of it?"

"No," Joanna said softly. "I’m trying to make sure you understand the cost. That you’re not acting on impulse."

Serenya thought about that. Was this an impulse? Twenty years of watching and waiting, and now suddenly throwing it all away for a boy she barely knew?

But she did know him. She’d seen the way he fought...not for glory or power, but to protect others. She’d heard his declaration about wanting to heal the Blight, to restore the wasteland. She’d watched him struggle with his abilities, trying to understand them rather than simply exploit them for personal gain.

Kaelen Valerius was either the most dangerous idealist she’d ever met, or he was exactly the kind of person the world needed.

Either way, he deserved a chance to find out which.

"I understand the cost," Serenya said finally. "And I’m willing to pay it."

Joanna nodded slowly. "Then we should go. The trial starts in less than an hour."

They left through a door that opened directly into the space between spaces, a form of travel so old that most modern mages didn’t even know it existed. One step took them from Serenya’s garden to a hidden alcove near the Great Hall.

Tiara was waiting for them, looking more vibrant than she had in years. The prospect of finally confronting the Conclave that had exiled her seemed to have restored some of her youth.

"Ready?" the old Archmage asked.

"As we’ll ever be," Joanna replied.

Serenya said nothing. She closed her eyes and centered herself, feeling the flow of magic around her. The old magic, the kind that existed before the Conclave tried to systematize and control everything. It sang in her blood, wild and free.

They waited in the alcove, listening to the sounds of the trial through the stone walls. They heard Corvain’s accusations, the false testimony, the witnesses lying to save their own positions. They heard Idran try to defend Kaelen, only to be shouted down.

And finally, they heard the sentence.

He was proclaimed guilty.

Serenya looked at her companions. Tiara’s face was set with grim determination. Joanna’s hands were already gathering water from the air around them. Both women had made their choices and accepted the consequences.

Now it was time to act.

They moved to the doors of the Great Hall. Serenya could feel the wards protecting it, designed to prevent magical attacks from outside. Powerful wards, reinforced over centuries.

But not as powerful as what she was about to do.

She placed both hands on the doors and reached deep into her magic. Not the refined, controlled magic the Conclave taught. The raw, primal force that existed before anyone tried to cage it with rules and restrictions.

The wards shattered like glass.

The doors exploded inward with a sound like thunder.

And Serenya walked through the smoke and debris into the stunned silence of the council chamber, power radiating from her like heat from a forge.

"The trial," she heard Tiara announce behind her, "is over."

Guards rushed toward them, but Serenya was already moving. Her magic reached out, not violently but precisely, touching pressure points in the very fabric of space around them. The guards’ weapons suddenly weighed too much to lift. The magisters found their spells fizzling before they could fully form.

She reached Kaelen’s side in seconds, her hand finding his shoulder. He looked up at her with surprise and hope and confusion all mixed together.

"Can you stand?" she asked.

He nodded, rising on shaky legs. She could sense the suppression magic still working on him, blocking his Aether channels.

"We need to move," Tiara said, wind already swirling around them protectively.

Kaelen tried to summon his power, and Serenya saw him gasp with pain.

She stepped closer, supporting his weight. "I’ve got you... we will handle whatever they did later."

More guards poured in. Spells began flying. Joanna’s water shield deflected most of them, but they couldn’t stay here. Already, she could feel more powerful magic gathering as the council magisters overcame their initial shock.

Time to go.

Serenya pulled Kaelen close, gesturing for the others to grab hold of her. Tiara and Joanna didn’t hesitate, their trust absolute in this moment of crisis.

Then Serenya opened a door in space itself, and they fell through it.

The journey was disorienting, uncomfortable, like being pulled through a tunnel too small for your body. But it was fast, and it took them far from the Great Hall in an instant.

They emerged in her garden, stumbling slightly from the transition. Kaelen fell to his knees, clearly suffering from both the suppression magic and the strain of the spatial jump.

"Inside," Serenya commanded, already moving to help him up. "We need to get him comfortable and let his magic recover."

They got him into the house, onto her couch. Echo appeared from somewhere...the wolf must have found his own way here...and immediately pressed close to his master’s side.

Joanna and Tiara were talking about pursuit, about the Conclave’s likely response, about their next moves. But Serenya was focused on Kaelen, on the way pain was written across his face, on the vulnerability of someone who had relied on power suddenly finding himself without it.

She mixed her healing remedy, the one she’d prepared that morning, and brought it to him.

"Drink this," she said gently. "It will help."

He took the cup with trembling hands, sipping the hot liquid. Some of the tension began to ease from his face.

"Thank you," he said quietly. "All of you. You didn’t have to..."

"Yes, we did," Joanna interrupted.

"You’re worth saving," Tiara added.

Kaelen looked at Serenya last, questions in his eyes. "Why help me? You barely know me. Why risk everything?"

She could have given him several answers. Strategic reasons. Practical considerations. But in this moment, after burning down twenty years of careful neutrality, Serenya decided on honesty.

"Because I’m tired of watching potential die before it can bloom," she said. "Because the world needs people like you, whether it knows it or not." She paused, then smiled slightly. "And because I have my own reasons for wanting to see the council’s power challenged."

Joanna turned to look at her then, a slight smile on her lips. "You know what you just did makes you a fugitive too, right? There’s no going back from this."

Serenya met her gaze steadily, her smile widening. "I know."

And strangely, she felt lighter than she had in years. Twenty years of hiding, of staying neutral, of telling herself she was being wise when she was really just being afraid.

All gone now. Burned away in the moment she chose to act instead of watch.

She was a fugitive. A traitor to the Conclave. Marked for execution alongside the young man she’d just saved.

And she had never felt more free.