Radiance - The Alight Archives Book #1

59. Glyph Forest

Orion fumbled with the locket watch inside his gloved hand, catching a glimpse of his despondent expression on its reflective surface. This watch, it was a tiny little thing made of a metal that was silver in color but shared not the same name, originating farther than Ekenthall, Rymevar, and even the mysterious Urista, in lands he still knew very little about.

But despite it all, Orion ascertained that the watch was always with him. It wasn't that the item was imbued with magical properties, nor was it in any way, shape, or fashion an arcanetech device. In fact, Orion was more than positive that it didn't even function anymore, its two pairs of hands—one shorter than the other three—ticking around and around in a sequence that failed to align with the natural flow of time.

Orion's fingers turned stiff as he held it tightly in his grasp, and the characterless ambiance of his office accentuated the ancient contraption's frequent ticking. As a child, he'd watch his father spend hours and hours and hours on end trapped within his study room, his head buried in his books, and the mounds of crumpled papers littered at his feet were so tall that they easily reached to his calves.

Back then, he would have done anything to escape such an utterly boring fate. He would be a sorcerer! Ironically, however, chasing that fascination landed him right here, doing exactly what his father had done day after day: sitting behind a desk, too tired to fall asleep. 

He was widely recognized as one of the most capable Professional Sorcerers in the entire nation, possessing remarkable mystical abilities that few could match. Yet, it had been a while since he had felt compelled to utilize his wand for anything beyond mere entertainment or minor conjuring tricks.

Orion was a sorcerer of great skill and prestige. He had spent decades mastering the art of magic and acquiring knowledge that spanned centuries. Yet in spite of his mastery, Orion still felt a spark of excitement whenever he encountered a new magical spell. It reminded him of that reckless child he'd once been in his younger days, when the world was filled with wonder and possibility. Now look at him.

The older he became, the stronger that tinge of jealousy stung when a swarm of novices flocked to his academy, eager to learn the secrets of magic. He had worked hard to reach his level of expertise, and it was difficult to watch others chase that same dream. 

Contrary to these conflicting emotions, Orion would continue to guide his students with fairness and patience, hoping to inspire a new generation of sorcerers to carry on Faye Theodora's ideals of honor. For now, though, what was he to do to combat his creeping boredom?

A distraction! He needed a distraction! And not just any kind, one that would work. One that he could use to camouflage his dissatisfaction and trick an outsider's gaze, causing them to judge that he was indeed acting on an urge of responsibility or obligation. Surely, a sorcerer like him could pull something like that off. Surely...

No, there was no point, he reckoned. A swift glance to his right revealed the figure dressed in his pitch-black cloak appraising a textbook with narrowed, lifeless eyes. Raze would see through his deception in a matter of seconds. "Does it have to be me?" Orion inquired solemnly. He sat straight in his seat and dispelled a sigh out his nostrils, loud enough to pull Raze's scowl off his book.

"Yes, yes, it does, sir." Raze's yellowish eyes scrolled from one side of his head to the next as he continued reading the text. "This isn't just your run-of-the-mill meeting or a simple school assembly. It's an official audience with the Sorcery High Commission. Your attendance is expected, as is the Sorceress Supereme's demands."

Orion rolled his eyes. "But they all start and end the exact same way. Every. Single. Time. It's exhausting!" he grunted, more annoyed than angry. "There's so much more I could be doing right now. Like, I don't know, running Glyph Academy."