The chill of late October was closing in on the Castle of Castles, where the icy wind hissed between the monumental towers that had dominated the landscape for centuries like guardians of ages past. The stone structures, solid and intimidating, were now covered in a fine cloak of snow, reflecting the pale light of the moon against the dark sky. The scarlet banners, symbols of the Red Way family, fluttered fiercely in the biting wind, each gust carrying the echo of a history marked by power and loss. Michelle Red Way walked through the ancient corridors of that place that had once been her home. But that castle, with all its grand walls, no longer seemed to offer warmth or refuge. On the contrary, the weight of each stone felt like it was crushing her soul.

The throne room opened before her, its heavy doors creaking as if protesting her arrival. The towering walls were adorned with ancestral tapestries, portraits of mages who had shaped the world, their stern faces staring at her with eyes that seemed alive. The red throne, raised as a symbol of absolute power, appeared desolate in the vastness of the hall. Michelle felt her heart race, a familiar sensation of discomfort with each step she took. Her long white hair, so characteristic of the Red Way lineage, swayed to the rhythm of the cold wind, while her eyes, red as embers, scanned the scene before her. She immediately noticed the other four seats occupied by the leaders of the arcanist families.

The figures present were not just powerful mages; they were rulers, manipulators of destinies. Ava Blue, the Saphire Arcanist with short blue hair and penetrating eyes like shards of glass, was there, but something about her posture felt different. Always proud, she seemed broken this time, her shoulders slightly slumped, the cold gleam in her gaze absent. Harvey Green, the Jade Arcanist, with his neatly trimmed light brown hair and youthful face, sat with the elegant calm that always characterized him. Patrick Black Garths, the Black Arcanist, rested in a chair beside him, his hefty body draped in heavy black velvet robes, his expression concealed behind a monocle, yet his eyes were deeply focused. And lastly, Nathan Gold, the Golden Arcanist, with his immense figure, arms crossed over his bare chest, displaying scars that told tales of secret battles.

Michelle adjusted her glasses, taking a deep breath. Each of those arcanists, no matter how powerful and feared they were, did not intimidate her. On the contrary, the silence in the air indicated something much worse. She observed the empty hall, except for the dark glances that fell upon her.

"The fact that I hate this place doesn’t stop you from calling me here... " Her words echoed in the vast stone hall, reverberating as if seeking a response. Her feet moved across the marble floor, each step audible in the silence that followed.

Ava was the first to speak. The Sapphire Arcanist, always firm and intense, now hesitated as she spoke. There was something different in her posture, an unusual weakness that made her even more tense.

" Michelle... " Ava said, her voice strangely uncomfortable. She, who never showed vulnerability, seemed to be sinking into a personal abyss.

" Where is my brother...? " Michelle interrupted, her eyes scanning every corner of the hall. " Is this a meeting of the Arcanists’ Council? You can’t proceed without Leon present! He is the Scarlet Arcanist! "

The depth of the silence that followed was suffocating. Each of the arcanists watched her with a mix of pity and resignation, as if the truth was a burden they avoided carrying, but could no longer hide.

Ava opened her mouth, but the voice that emerged sounded distant, as if each word was a blow.

" Michelle, your brother... " Her voice faltered.

" The Scarlet Arcanist, Leon Red Way, passed away this night."

The deep, hoarse voice of Patrick Black Garths shattered the silence of the hall like a muffled thunder, reverberating against the cold stone walls. The air around him seemed denser, as if the entire environment was suffering. He wore a long black velvet robe that trailed on the floor, embroidered with silver threads that faintly glimmered in the torchlight on the walls. His gold monocle sparkled as he regarded Michelle with cold, almost disdainful eyes. Patrick's presence, as a hefty man, reinforced his imposing aura. For a moment, it seemed he was about to make a cruel joke.

Michelle froze, her body tensing as if it were about to shatter. Her feet, which until then seemed glued to the polished marble floor, could not move. Her gaze, once fixed on the ground covered in luxurious red carpets, abruptly lifted to confront Patrick. Her heart pounded as if trying to escape the pain rising within her. The vastness of the hall, with its majestic columns and vaulted ceilings, felt like it was suffocating the air around her. The echo of his words still vibrated through the walls, intensifying the impact.

" What did you say? " The words slipped from her lips before she could regain control. Disbelief tinged her voice, tearing through the silence with the urgency of someone clinging to a last hope. Speaking this way to an Arcanist was sacrilege, especially to Patrick, whose power and influence surpassed many. But caution had been swallowed by the need to understand.

Patrick tilted his head slightly, his monocle gleaming in the light of the flames. His eyes, dark as the abyss, met Michelle’s with a coldness of steel. The ensuing silence felt eternal. Each second dragged on, laden with mounting tension. The details of the room around her—the richly decorated tapestries, the ancestral statues of the ancient arcanists—faded as the entire world condensed into that gaze.

" Leon... used the Sacrificium Animarum Sigillum... " Ava added, her voice wavering with pain. The words emerged like a bitter lament.

Those words, forbidden to be uttered among the arcanists, now echoed through the hall with the force of a mortal decree. All mages knew that spell. Everyone knew what it meant. They knew the price. They knew it should never, under any circumstances, be used. The sacrifice of a soul to seal others, a power that no mage, however desperate, should dare to conjure.

" Why? " Michelle whispered brokenly, barely escaping her lips. " Why would he do that? It’s suicide... it’s forbidden!"

Before the echo of her words faded, a new voice made its presence known, soft and treacherous like the whisper of a serpent. Harvey Green, the Jade Arcanist, opened his mouth, his words carefully crafted to inflict pain with subtlety. He was the youngest among the arcanists, but his youth was a mask that concealed a sharp and dangerous mind. With a subtle smile, his green eyes shone with veiled malice, as his jade-green tunic swayed lightly around him.

" Our families have been at war for centuries, Michelle " Harvey said, savoring each syllable as if it were a feast. He seemed to delight in her suffering, like a predator relishing the fragility of its prey before delivering the final blow. " The Lunatics have reaped more lives than we can count. "

The name "Lunatics" danced in Michelle's mind like poison, provoking a feeling of nausea. They were a group of renegade mages, cruel rebels, challengers of the order established by the arcanists, but none of that justified Leon's decision. It didn't explain why he had sacrificed himself.

" Leon put an end to this, once and for all " Ava's voice, with its soothing tone, seemed an attempt to calm the hurricane within Michelle. Ava was a tall, slender woman with short sapphire-blue hair, maintaining a lofty posture despite what her words carried. She sat still, but her presence dominated the hall.

Michelle looked down, Ava's words echoing, trying to fit together, but something didn’t make sense. The brother she knew, the one she always protected, the silly boy who grew up by her side, the Leon who was passionate about the family he had built would never make such a desperate decision. Her heart cried that something was wrong.

" He had children! " Michelle's voice broke again, this time more fragile, control slipping away with each syllable. Tears were already forming in her eyes, threatening to overflow. " He would never leave them like this..."

Ava lifted her chin, as if she had been mourning for a long time.

" He saved them... saved all of us. " Her words sounded mechanical, devoid of any real emotion, as if she were merely repeating a rehearsed speech.

Michelle felt a chill run down her spine. She looked around, hoping that the imposing walls of the hall could offer some comfort, but everything felt more oppressive than before.

" Neither Tyler nor Hyan are old enough to succeed their father... " Michelle murmured, feeling the weight of her words. The fate of her nephews loomed over her like a shadow. " It’s not safe... it won't be safe for them... to grow up here."

Suddenly, a new voice broke through, deep and authoritative. Nathan Gold, the Golden Arcanist, finally shattered the silence, his voice resonating through the hall like distant thunder. He stood, arms crossed over his broad chest, a deep scar running across his face where his right eye should have been.

" There will be no succession " he said, each word like hammer blows, firm and irrevocable.

Michelle stared at Nathan, perplexity etched on her face.

" I am next in line... " Michelle murmured, her voice almost a whisper, barely audible in the vast hall. Her eyes, which had once seemed drowned in indecision, now reflected wavering determination. The long deep scarlet dress felt heavier than ever on her slender shoulders.

" Michelle, listen! " Ava shouted, her voice cutting through the air with the force of a sharp blade. Her face was chiseled with the grace of a matriarch, but her eyes revealed something darker, like an abyss on the verge of crumbling.

Michelle, immersed in her thoughts, barely noticed the warning.

Nathan, the Golden Arcanist, remained still until that moment. His figure, that of a veteran warrior, seemed chiseled by battle, every muscle in his wide and robust body. When he spoke, it was as if the very stones beneath his feet trembled.

" There will be no other Scarlet Arcanist " he declared.

Michelle's breath became shallow, and the cold air seemed to penetrate her very bones.

Slowly, as if time had slowed around her, Michelle turned her body. The scarlet dress swept the ground in a solemn dance. Her eyes, once cloudy, now sought an explanation, a justification, anything that could ease her burden. But what she found were only impassive faces. The figures present — the Arcanists, ancient and powerful — seemed distant, like stone statues watching her with cruel indifference.

" We share your pain, Michelle " Harvey said, his words coming from his mouth with the softness of a slow poison. He leaned slightly forward, as if offering sincere condolences, but the malicious gleam in his green eyes revealed his true nature. " But you know what happened in the past. What your father did..."

The mention of her father was like a lit fuse igniting within her. Michelle's blood boiled, and the rage that had always coursed through the veins of the Red Way lineage finally erupted. It was an ancient, primal fury, the same madness that had consumed her father and now, perhaps, was beginning to swallow her own soul. She felt every fiber of her being constrict, the air in her lungs insufficient to contain the storm growing within her.

" Don’t you dare speak of him! " Michelle roared, her voice resonating through the hall like the sound of a beast unleashed. She raised her hand, and in the blink of an eye, red circles of energy swirled around her slender fingers, drawing arcane seals in the air. Like glowing embers, the runes intertwined, and a slender sword, with a scarlet and gleaming blade, appeared in her hand. It was as if the very blood of her fury had shaped the weapon. She pointed the blade directly at Harvey's chest, who, for a brief moment, lost the arrogant gleam in his gaze.

" My father... " Michelle hissed, her once hesitant eyes now burning like living embers, red as the fire coursing through her blood. " It was this boy who killed him. And now, with my brother dead, do you think you can just decide what to do? "

All eyes turned to Harvey, who remained motionless but composed. Only Ava moved, or rather, didn’t move — but her presence seemed to grow even colder. She remained like a statue of ice, unyielding, but her eyes, two windows to a deep sorrow, spoke more than her words. When she spoke, her voice emerged with an unsettling serenity.

" Michelle... " Ava began, her voice low, almost like a lament. " Think of your children... your nephews... " There was a contained pain in her words, one Michelle recognized but refused to accept. " It was a unanimous choice. "

The hall, with its white marble walls, tapestries depicting the ancient battles of the Arcanists, and the soft flames flickering in the wrought-iron lamps, now felt like a courtroom. And in the center, Patrick, the Black Arcanist, slowly rose. He was like a mountain moving for the first time in ages, his bulky body covered in black robes adorned with ancient runes of power.

" Gather your belongings and your children. " His voice, deep and hoarse, cut through the air like distant thunder. " Leave the Castle of Castles tonight. Live as common men. The reign of the Scarlet Arcanists has ended."

Those words echoed, and Michelle felt a cold emptiness consume her. Her vision darkened, and for the first time in a long time, the future seemed to crumble before her. Everything she knew had come to an end.