Someone in the hall started to scream.

  The theater plunged into panic. Every so often, flickers of light appeared, likely spells cast by some of the mages among the crowd.

  From up here, they looked like a swarm of agitated fireflies.

  The only thing breaking through the terrified cries of the audience was the loud clangs of doors refusing to budge. Not even the emergency exits would open.

  We’ve been trapped inside the theater, I noticed, feeling my heart beating wilder any passing second.

  “What’s going on?” Bianca asked, frightened by the rapid succession of events.

  “Is this all part of the show?” I wondered aloud, but my words didn’t carry any particular intention with them.

  It wasn’t the first time I had seen ‘The Fall of a King’, and I was fairly certain this had never happened before.

  Even actors on stage looked just as confused as we were; their puzzled voices made their way up to the imperial balcony.

  “Protect the Imperial Family!” One of the three Imperial Guards shouted. It was the mage, Boelong.

  Immediately, the other two moved into position; one guarded the opening that led to the stage, the other stood just behind the curtains leading outside.

  Both sharpened their gaze, scanning for potential attackers.

  “What’s going on, Father?” I asked, growing worried seeing the Imperial Guard snapping into motion.

  The more it became clear that this wasn’t part of the performance, the more anxiety deepened its grasp.

  “I fear we’ve been caught right in a terrorist attack, Arda,” Father said, trying to keep his voice steady and calm so as not to frighten us too much.

  “Young Arda, do not despair more than necessary. You are in the presence of some of the finest swords in the Empire, as well as some of the most skilled mages on the continent,” the Emperor reassured me in his gentle voice. “The likelihood of something going wrong is rather low.”

  He sounded surprisingly calm for one who was likely to be the target of an attack aimed at murdering him.

  If I were in his place, I wouldn’t be so composed.

  “Baryon. My sword,” my father ordered to my master.

  “I’m sorry, Lord Damyon, but that’s not possible,” Baryon replied reluctantly.

  “Are you refusing me?” He asked, cocking a brow that stressed the hint of anger in his voice.

  “No, nothing of the sort. I am unable to do so,” he explained.

  Father was just about to insist, but an unexpected voice interrupted him.

  “The mage is correct, Lord Velya,” Boelong said.

  “Spatial transportation magic has been sealed. Using it is impossible. Even dimension rings are not working.

  “It would take a long time to decipher the magical signature of the spell blocking them. Especially if we don’t find out how they’re doing it.”

  “And we still would have to formulate an appropriate countermeasure,” Baryon grimly added in.

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  Father exhaled sharply, regaining his composure. “I’m sorry, Baryon.”

  My master shrugged shortly, putting on a thin-lipped smile. “Don’t be. You had no way of knowing. And even then, there was little to be done.”

  “So, there’s no way for me to get a sword?” Father asked for confirmation.

  “Oh, I never said that,” Baryon replied, a sardonic edge to his voice. Though I couldn’t see him from this angle, I was certain he had a devilish grin on his face.

  “Greater Creation,” he softly chanted.

  Accompanied by thousands of tiny flickering lights, a sword materialized out of thin air in my master’s free hand, gradually assembling itself particle by particle.

  He offered it to my father. “It may not be exactly like the one you’re used to, but it should serve you well enough,” he added.

  “Impressive spell,” Emperor Areyon let out a quiet whistle.

  “Indeed. Truly a first-rate enchantment,” Boelong agreed, visibly impressed by my master.

  “It’s rare to meet someone capable of Summoning magic of such a high level and able to cast it in such a brief time, too.”

  “I find Summoning magic to be far more versatile than most spells. It allows me greater creativity in situations like this,” Baryon explained curtly.

  “Um… gentlemen, I apologize for the interruption,” Mother cut in. “But… what is that?”

  She pointed at the theater’s ceiling, which had suddenly begun to glow.

  “Something that shouldn’t be there,” Father muttered, squinting as he tried to focus on the shapeless, luminous mass.

  Meanwhile, Mother tinkered with a gem of the bracelet around her wrist. Popping free of the bracelet, it rose a few feet above our heads and started emitting a dim yellow light.

  It wasn’t much in terms of illumination, but for now we could work with it.

  I leaned forward to get a better look at the strange lights on the ceiling. It seemed to be bubbling, almost as if it were trying to settle into a definite shape.

  “That, that is not a good sign,” Baryon observed, his grip still firm on his staff.

  “It appears to be the embryonic stage of some magical effect,” he added. “I don’t think I’d be too far off if I said someone’s trying to cast a spell through an artifact of some kind.”

  Boelong seemed to share the same opinion. “I’ve often seen magical objects behave this way when used to cast a complex spell.”

  “Is there any way to determine what spell has been cast?” The Emperor said, joining the conversation between the two mages.

  “I’m afraid not, Your Grace. Not yet, at least. Until the very moment it stabilizes, we can’t be certain of its effects,” Baryon replied.

  “And even then, we’ll have little time to implement countermeasures. Let’s just hope we can at least contain its effects in time,” Boelong grumbled, his grip tightening on his long, azure staff.

  “Today, we’ll have a quick field lesson, Arda,” Baryon said, now turning to me, apparently disregarding the matter at hand.

  “As the wise Boelong pointed out just now, when one attempts to activate a magical effect through an object infused with mana, two phenomena can occur.”

  He raised a finger. “The first is what we’re seeing now. The spell being cast or the effect being produced is highly complex.

  “This requires time to gather the necessary mana and a great deal of concentration to control it. In other circumstances, both of these issues could be mitigated by properly preparing the magical object, but that does not seem to be the case here.”

  I nodded. “And what’s the second?”

  “The spell is well within the object’s capacity and is cast instantly. This usually happens when using extremely refined artifacts or when casting particularly simple spells.”

  “Can’t we interrupt the spell’s effect before it stabilizes?” I asked.

  Boelong shook his head. “Not even considering it would require an extremely precise magical interference—which is impossible—it is generally a bad idea to tamper with unstable spells from the outside.”

  “Why?” That sounded like an idiotic rule to me.

  “They have the unfortunate tendency to become even more unstable and be released unpredictably. All that mana could condense into something other than the intended spell, potentially causing serious problems.”

  Better not gamble then, I decided. There are too many people trapped here.

  “So, is there anything we can do?” I asked.

  “Aside from waiting, I don’t think there’s much else—” Boelong started, but Baryon cut him off with a raised hand.

  “It seems today is our lucky day. The spell is stabilizing. Stay on guard!”