Bound by Duty

[19] The Unyielding Guardian

The cold, metallic office didn't seem to absorb the sunny cheer that was there outside. The blinds were drawn and the windows were closed. No sound from outside was able to creep into the room. Across one wall was a long desk - as long as a table which could seat thirty-odd people.

On it, papers and files were arranged in a neat, organised manner. Poring over one of those files and bending over the desk was a man. He was about six feet tall and extremely thin. He was teetering towards being dangerously unhealthy.

However, that sickly, pale face contrasted with those dark, hypnotic eyes had a strange effect on a viewer. They would either be afraid of him or mesmerised to the point of worship. That had nothing to do with his powers; it was all his charisma, his body language and his aura.

But right then, he was frowning, reading the contents of those files intensely. With a wave of his hand, a pen and a notepad flew towards him. He muttered an incantation and the pen hovered over the notepad, waiting for his dictation.

"Seventy-two for her, sixty-eight for him this month. Twenty-six of ours. They're speeding up. I admire their impatience," he murmured. "It might be the only factor for our win."

He ran his hand through his hair, letting out a frustrated grunt. With another wave, the notepad and pen went back to their places. Everything was converging. The point of convergence was going to appear before them in no time. How much were they really prepared? How much did they really know?

Being in the dark was something he hated the most.

After a while, he straightened. He looked at his bleached hands and his pale face in the mirror. He had been locked up in his room for far too long this time. It was high time he looked out at the outside world. His isolation had lasted two months. It really hadn't helped his skin's texture, not that he cared one way or the other. He slid out his phone from his pocket and switched it on.

He had more than six hundred notifications. He blinked, taken aback. People spoke to him often and respected him, but that didn't mean that they dared to disturb him by sending that many messages.

When he scrolled through them absently, his expression slowly turned strange, then grave, then extremely complicated. There was only one thought running in his mind.

She was mated.

He swore, gripping the phone tighter. Scrolling down further, he saw the missed calls. He immediately dialled back one of the numbers. When the other person answered, he didn't even give them an opportunity to speak. "Why do I only know this now?" He growled.

"Because," the other man drawled, "you switched on your phone only now."

"Juda," he warned. "Don't act smart with me."

"What was I supposed to do?" Juda snapped. "When you go into your hibernation, no one can penetrate your magical defences. Was I supposed to risk my life to deliver the news?"

"You could've done something!" he shouted unreasonably. "A matter as important as this, it's not something I should have missed!" With a frustrated growl, he extended his hand and from its end, a zap of electricity shot out, burning a pile of papers.

"Now, now, chief," Juda said calmly, unperturbed by his superior's wrath. "I think there's still time for you to go. We don't want you throwing a tantrum in the Magus Tower, do we?"

"You know exactly how important she is to me, Juda. Don't make jokes about her, now. Or my hand might accidentally slip."

"You would be the one to suffer, chief," Juda replied in a deadpan tone, "because you wouldn't be able to replace me."

The man growled tossing his phone aside. Rubbing his face frustratedly, he grunted as he kicked a chair aside. One would have thought that such a frail-looking man wouldn't have that kind of strength.

"I have to see her," he murmured to himself. Extending his hand again, he pointed at empty air. A few seconds later, the air shimmered and a hole started appearing in the middle of the room, in space. The hole grew wider and on the other side, one could see the dark woods. As the hole maintained itself, the man stepped through it as it closed behind him.