Page 78 of Cerulean Truth (Sapere #1)

He hesitated for a moment too long before responding. "No, I didn't. You never translated when you were near me."

Well, that much was true. But still...

"You're telling me this is all a coincidence?" I frowned, my usual skepticism taking hold of my thoughts.

Martin, Julian, the Elder—whatever his name was—answered vaguely, skillfully sidestepping the actual question. "You'd be surprised how often we find other magi in the Human World." He shrugged.

"Yeah, but you didn't find... anyway," I decided to drop it for now. "I can't believe you're here! And you're the Elder! How's that possible?" I exclaimed. "Sorry, I'm simply trying to wrap my mind around it."

He laughed. "Glad to see you missed me," he said, prompting me to turn and hug him again. Our reunion was abruptly interrupted by James’s startling entrance.

His eyes darted from Martin to me, settling into a deathly stare. "Anyone wanna fill me in?" he asked dryly, narrowing his eyes.

"James!" I exclaimed, observing his icy tone but wisely choosing to ignore it. "This is Martin! As in my childhood friend I told you about, remember?"

He shot me a dark look, clearly unamused by the memory. Martin offered his hand to James, who regarded it as if it were laced with poison. Apparently, James’s admiration for his lifelong hero turned out to be rather short-lived.

"This is James Walker," I said, making a face at James to reprimand his rudeness.

"Ah, of course. Dennis Dale’s savior and the hero of Cyclos in the flesh. I've heard many wonderful things about you." Martin smiled broadly, but his sentiment wasn't reciprocated. What the heck was James’s problem?

“And you’re the Elder,” James remarked dryly, his tone sharp. “The oldest magus alive, who just happens to know the newest one, and just happens to visit right when she's found… Are you trying to make us believe that you and her meeting here right now is entirely coincidental?"

I stilled. James's voice was almost unrecognizable—harsh, cold, icy even. It wasn’t my friend (or whatever we were) standing there, but the cold calculated First Offensive. I tried to catch his eyes, but he was too busy staring down Martin and ignoring me.

"Well, I did hear about the oldest maga ever found in the Human World, which intrigued me enough to arrive a little sooner than necessary, but I had no idea it would be my childhood friend.

How could I have known?" Martin flashed me a smile. Which I reciprocated. Could’ve been my imagination, but I could swear I heard James let out a growl .

"Then why are you here exactly?" James interrogated further. I shot him a dark look in return; he was pushing the boundaries of decorum to new levels of disrespect.

However, Martin remained remarkably calm and civilized. "I'm here to discuss the recent uproar concerning the international consensus. You, as the next leader of Cyclos, are well-placed to imagine the catastrophe that would follow if magi start waging war with each other."

James clenched his jaw. Of course he could imagine that, but he obviously didn't care, and was clearly still objecting to Martin’s presence.

"I still can't believe you're really here," I whispered softly. "I'm so glad to finally have some form of a touchstone to my own reality."

"What do you mean by that?" Martin and James asked in unison.

I hesitated, berating myself internally for the verbal stumble.

"Well uhm, it's been quite challenging for me," I admitted, "leaving everything behind, starting anew without anything resembling my former life.

It's been tougher than I expected, and the adjustment has been harder than I anticipated.

" I glanced at my oldest friend, who offered a sympathetic smile, then turned my gaze to James, who seemed to have figurative smoke coming out of his ears.

Perhaps that wasn't my most diplomatic moment.

James had made an effort to facilitate my transition smoothly, and my candid comment seemed to hit a nerve.

But I was only being honest; the struggle persisted, even six months into the transition.

However, I should have expressed my sentiments more gracefully. Then, I got nervous.

“I’ve been struggling with basically everything since I’ve gotten here but I’ve been lucky to have James as my trainer,” I attempted to temper my idiotic blab. But it only got worse. “He’s been very patient with me, and I can be quite challenging as you know.”

Stop talking .

“But James turned out to have the patience of ten very patient people.”

What the hell am I saying?

“Or magi. Not that magi aren’t people. Of course they are people. But not always patient.”

Please, for the love of the gods stop talking .

I coughed. "Anyway, what brings you here exactly?" I shifted the conversation, catching a glimpse of James's hand trembling with anger in my peripheral vision. Seriously? He’s that furious? Why?

"I am here to contribute in every possible way to solidify an international consensus and ensure that every maga or magus feels heard. My objective is to prevent war and maintain peace," he declared.

James snorted. "That sounds a bit dramatic, don't you think?"

I frowned. Dramatic or not, it sounded mainly rehearsed.

"I don't believe so. There's nothing worse than magi fighting other magi. Have you forgotten about the Battle of '59?" Martin countered.

"No, I haven't forgotten, but considering no one really knows what transpired during that battle, I fail to see how it supports your point," James retorted.

"Well, I fought that battle, and I can assure you, there's nothing worse than fighting your own people," Martin began to lose his patience.

Curious, I interjected, "So what happened?" My question was met with another low growl from James. I was sure I heard it now. He, literally, growled . Like an animal.

"I'm not at liberty to disclose the details.

Most survivors had their memories wiped to erase the horrors of that battle, and out of respect for their choice, those few who kept their memories are bound by strict confidentiality.

However, what you may be aware of is magi fought against each other for the first and only time in history.

There were no winners. Even individuals like Stephen Stone, who singlehandedly rectified more than one could fathom during the war, chose to forget their own stories.

Stephen is a war hero who doesn't even recall why.”

Martin paused.

“But this is precisely why this consensus is paramount. We cannot afford another war among magi. The only certainty that would ensure is mutual destruction," Martin concluded.

I looked expectantly at James, surely that made enough sense for him to simmer down a notch.

“Well, who are we to stand in your way toward political greatness?” James queried sarcastically. "So, may I guide you toward our headquarters? The Council would be thrilled to hear all your suggestions on how to prevent another magi war."

Ignoring James entirely, Martin turned to me, saying, "I will find you later, my dear Emma.

I can't fathom how grown up you are now!

I'm eager to hear all about your life!" He winked at me, then nodded to James who drew a portal without another word, and in a microsecond, I found myself alone in the gardens of Oasis.