Page 19 of Cerulean Truth (Sapere #1)

EIGHT

JAMES

I was exhausted. I’d managed only two hours of sleep and by the time I stepped through the portal again?my bed finally in sight?it was half past five in the morning, marking the start of another grueling day. I cursed the limitations of translation, longing for the ability to refill my own stamina.

Not even bothering with a change of clothes, I collapsed on my bed, completely dressed. My head hadn’t fully touched the pillow yet, when my Nexus activated again, generating a massive sense of worry, combined with Maurice’s very concerned face. I groaned; what now?

His usual calm and composed demeanor was replaced by clear panic.

Maurice was one half of the inseparable elders in our Collective, husband of our Leader Maria. Dubbed the Maumars by the younger generation, they were renowned for their wisdom, level-headedness, and practicality.

Having already crossed their third cycles, inching close to 240 years on Earth, they opted against rejuvenation, claiming it lent them the authority their position required. Their resolve on the matter influenced my own choice to stick with a more mature appearance as well.

Maria, shouldering the responsibility of leading one of the largest Collectives in the world, dealt with continual stress and pressure.

She also voiced a lot of opinions. Often.

And loudly. I spent a great deal of time with her, being expected to follow in her footsteps once I completed my education under her guidance.

In a sharp contrast, Maurice was her polar opposite in terms of temperament; the very embodiment of calm, serenity, a sense of proportion, and subtlety. So, stumbling upon a panicked Maurice was nothing short of alarming.

I raised my eyes, ignoring the sleepiness tugging at the edges of my mind. “How can I help you?” I nearly growled, irritated at being pulled from one drama into another.

“I can’t discuss it through the Nexus. Can you please come to the Basilica as soon as possible? I’ll be waiting for you there.” He hurried his words, overflowing me with all shades of anxiety.

I was exhausted, having been on my feet all night while grumbling about the lack of magical podiatry. But Maurice’s panic pumped so much adrenaline into me that I quickly powered through it.

After getting some caffeine in my system, I portaled into the Basilica, which took me no more than a second.

Though being in one of the most beautiful and secluded buildings we had, the exhaustion paired with the residual and oncoming adrenaline made it impossible to enjoy its clear oriental influences, nor its shining resemblance to the Washington capitol.

Usually, when the sun or the moonlight beamed through the dome, decked out with murals and mosaics, it drenched the interior in a golden or silvery glow.

The drawings and paintings were a nod to those found in the Basilica di San Pietro in Vatican City, and an indescribable warmth bathed the whole Basilica, making it impossible not to feel at home within its walls.

But, on that specific night, I really couldn’t give a shit.

“James!”

An ordinary person might've jumped ten feet high at the sudden voice reverberating through the dim corridors. But I was a seasoned Offensive, conditioned not to yield to surprise, trained to foresee all external variables, and molded to be the best of the best of the best. Which I was.

Which is why I jumped only two feet off the ground and spent the next few seconds pretending like that didn’t happen.

“Maurice.” I frowned while he approached me, his expression haunted, “What happened?”

“She left for Coastal last night.” Maurice’s voice quivered with unease. “George called us so she portaled out immediately. She should’ve returned by now but she hasn’t and no one has heard from her. And I can’t reach her nor George…”

Maurice was nervously wringing his hands while I was trying to make sense of his rambling. At five thirty in the morning.

“Maria has gone to Coastal?” I repeated warily. Coastal was the Western Collective of Europe, which held all magi of Spain and Portugal.

Maurice nodded, his anxiety palpable. “Yes! To visit George!”

“Who the f— Who is George?” I asked impatiently, quickly reminding myself of the respect required to address the one I was talking to.

“He’s a friend; we fought side by side during the Battle of '59..." he started, and I felt a rush of humility at the mention of their status as war heroes from the bloodiest conflict magi had ever seen.

Our kind was usually peaceful, preferring to settle differences without resorting to bloodshed. While we'd sometimes lend a hand to humans, like during the Second World War when we joined forces with the Allied side, internal conflicts were rare.

But there was one exception: the Battle of '59.

It was a brutal chapter in our history, where magi squared off against their own.

Survivors like Maurice, George, and Stephen saw horrors that made them collectively decide to wipe their memories clean.

"One round of that hell was more than enough," Stephen had grumbled, the only time I dared ask about it.

“George called us last night with crucial news,” he whispered again, his voice heavy with dread.

“Which was?” I frowned.

“There’s talk of resistance in Europe.”

I must’ve looked confused.

“Against the consensus James, there’s resistance against the consensus for our Great Exposure.”

I snorted in disbelief. "That's insane. Europe was practically a lock for the consensus, except maybe a couple of outlier Collectives."

Maurice didn't bother responding. Instead, he started pacing the hallway like I wasn't even there.

Oh for fuck’s sake.

“Maria went over there, to Coastal, to see if she could talk to George about it.”

“George joined the resistance?” I struggled to keep up.

“James… George is leading them! At least at Coastal he is. I don’t know how far this thing has gone already. He gave us a head’s up, and Maria felt she should talk to him in person so she left and now she’s missing!”

My eyes widened, finally catching on. “Okay, don’t worry. I’ll go after her, I’ll portal into Coastal right now and bring her back.”

“You can’t, you don’t have clearance. Plus, you won’t find her there, they went to the City of Diamonds to go see the United Chiefs.”

“Why?” I frowned, omitting to correct Maurice on his mistake about my clearance.

Maurice waved his arms in frustration. “Hell if I know!”

“Fine, then I’ll portal into Antwerp directly. I’ll find her, nex you, and portal us back in no time.” I tried to calm him down but failed.

"How are you going to get clearance in time?" he practically shouted, his desperation apparent. The guy was on the verge of losing it.

I let out a weary sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Don't worry about it. I've still got clearance from when the United Chiefs appointed me as the next Leader for Cyclos." It wasn't a complete lie, simply bending the truth a bit.

Maurice nodded, visibly relieved.

“Thank you, James, I was hoping you’d say that. With your Offensive training, it’ll be a piece of cake to find her, I’m sure. I would’ve gone myself but I’m pretty certain my Healer’s training would turn out rather useless.”

I gave his arm a reassuring squeeze, opting for actions over words. Then I conjured a green portal, landing in Antwerp thirty seconds later.

Leaving Cyclos right before sunrise meant arriving in Antwerp right before sunset.

Known as the City of Diamonds, it held a special place in my heart as one of my favorite destinations.

I was drawn to its usually vibrant energy and captivating architecture.

However, on this particular night, a sense of unease prickled at my senses. Something felt...off.

For example, Antwerp boasted one of the most stunning railway stations in the world. The Antwerp Central Station, which resembled more a cathedral than a typical terminal, was always brilliantly illuminated at night to enhance safety in the area.

However, as I arrived at my favorite building, I found it cloaked in darkness and entirely abandoned. As if all the people from Antwerp had been lifted out of this specific area. I frowned, readying myself for unexpected danger.

Walking for a few blocks, I tried to familiarize myself with these new conditions, and by the time I turned the third block, the rest of the city was swallowed by the same all-encompassing darkness.

Even though it was still early in the evening, there was an unnatural lack of light which made my skin crawl.

I translated lenses directly into my eyes, custom-made for Offensives, granting me clear night vision.

Yet, as soon as they touched my eyes, I nearly scratched them out.

“What the hell?” I muttered, letting out a less than dignified growl, followed by a string of expletives that would have made the devil blush.

Vigorously rubbing my eyes until the burning sensation gradually faded, I translated some bottled water to try to clean them out more thoroughly.

However, when the water made contact with my eyes, it was like pouring burning oil over them.

I roared like a wounded animal, ready to lash out at anyone daring to come near me.

I sucked in a sharp breath, the pain finally subsiding, only to be replaced by a surge of anger.

Most of it directed at myself for failing to recognize sooner what I had stumbled into.

It appeared that whoever was behind this, had translated a bubble around the city, effectively blocking any magus from using translation.

And if translation was out, that meant portaling out was also off the table.

It was a miracle portaling in hadn’t outright killed me.