For three hundred years, I walked the Path of Apathy, yet I fell in love with every man I met. The serene Hierophant, my stern Archmage mentor, my aloof senior knight, a roguish Warlock… But none of them wanted me. So, I decided to stop torturing myself and joined the Crimson Cabal, a coven dedicated to pleasure. But just as I was about to initiate my first carnal rite, the Hierophant himself dragged me from a bed draped in scarlet silk. A moment later, I found myself facing four pairs of eyes, all burning with a chilling frost. 1 The senior knight was the third man I’d fallen for. When I confessed my feelings to him, my Archmage mentor was standing right behind me. I shyly offered the knight an embroidered pouch I’d spent three days working on. His face remained a mask of cold indifference. "Sister, your focus should be on your training, not on matters of the heart." Hearing this, I snatched the pouch back. If you don't want it, I'll save it for the next one. This embroidery stuff is hard work. "I understand, Brother," I said, turning to leave. That’s when I saw my mentor, his face as dark as a thundercloud. His eyes were fixed on the pouch in my hand. I instinctively tried to hide it behind my back. Just two days ago, I had used this very same pouch to confess my feelings to him. Now, here I was, offering it to the knight, with my mentor as a witness. It was, to put it mildly, awkward. "Cora," my mentor's voice was quiet, but it sent a shiver down my spine. "If you continue this behavior, you will no longer have a place in this Order." If I were cast out, I wouldn't be able to see him or the knight every day. Even if I couldn't have them, just seeing them was something. My knees went weak, and I dropped to the ground, my voice catching in a sob. "Master, I won't do it again! Please don't send me away!" A flicker of emotion crossed his face. "This time, I will let it go. Give me the pouch." Reluctantly, I handed over the pouch that had now been offered to three different men. A faint pulse of magic emanated from his hand, and the product of my three days and nights of labor disintegrated into dust. Fine, I thought. I'll just make another one. The senior knight was the third man to reject me. The first had been the serene Hierophant from the neighboring Sanctum. I had walked the Path of Apathy for three hundred years, but the first sight of him shattered my resolve. My only desire was to claim him. But he was just an oblivious holy man. I tried to seduce him in the sacred springs, wearing nothing but a sheer, gossamer wrap. I could have sworn I saw a faint blush creep up his bare, tonsured head. But he just squeezed his eyes shut, pressed his palms together, and chanted, "Lady Cora, please, conduct yourself with dignity." His piety only fanned the flames of my desire. I moved closer, a dance of advance and retreat. I could feel his breath quicken, his eyelashes flutter. "Why not just surrender to me?" I whispered in his ear. "The Light guide me," he murmured, before practically fleeing the springs. His wet robes clung to his body, revealing the faint outline of a perfectly sculpted torso. The image haunted me for days. I told this story to the proprietress of the tavern at the foot of the mountain. She burst out laughing. "Little enchantress, with your inclinations, you should have joined my Crimson Cabal." I took a long swig of wine. "But I already have an Order." 2 After being rejected by the knight, I found myself back at the tavern. The proprietress greeted me at the door. "Rejected again, little one?" My face fell as I nodded. She shooed away the other patrons and brought a flagon of wine to my table. "If you were to join my Crimson Cabal," she said, her long, slender fingers, tipped with red lacquer, tilting my chin up, "no man in this world could refuse you." I looked into her eyes, and my heart skipped a beat. Oh no. I think I'm in love with the proprietress, too. A moment later, clarity returned. "You see," she purred, "that is the power of our secret arts." I was tempted. But I couldn't betray my mentor, my Order. When I first joined, I was just a child. He had told me I would be his only apprentice. I shook my head. The proprietress seemed to see my hesitation. She smiled. "Little enchantress, you'll be back." 3 When I returned to the Order, I saw my mentor standing before the Alchemist's Spire, his white robes stained with blood. My heart seized. He was injured? But he was an Archmage of the highest circle. There were few in the world who could harm him. "Master, you're hurt?" He glanced at me and shook his head, but his eyes were filled with worry. It was only then that I noticed that despite the blood, there were no wounds on his body. The injured person must be someone else. Just then, the head Alchemist emerged from the Spire. "It's a good thing you shielded her heart with your magic," the Alchemist said. "Otherwise, not even the Archons could have saved her." My mentor finally let out a breath of relief. "Cora, go back to your quarters. Don't cause trouble here." I stared at him, dumbfounded. I was just standing here. How was I causing trouble? As he hurried inside, I grabbed the Alchemist's arm. "Who is in there?" "A mortal woman. They say she saved Lord Kael's life. A benefactor of the Order." My mentor was an Archmage. How could a mortal woman have saved him? Filled with doubt, I returned to my chambers. My own training had been neglected for far too long. The Path of Apathy was not for me. I spent days in seclusion, trying to recapture the focus I once had, but it was gone. Finally, I stormed out of my chambers and went straight to my mentor's hall. "Master!" The hall was empty. I went out into the courtyard. There, under a pear tree, I saw him playing a game of stones with a woman. The look he gave her was one I had never seen before. When he looked at me, it was always with severity, with disappointment. Never with such tenderness. I broke the piercing silence. "Master, who is she?" He looked up at me. "Cora, do not be rude. This is my savior, Elara." So this was the mortal woman. She turned and smiled at me. "Cora thanks you for saving the Master's life," I said, giving a small bow. Then I rushed to my mentor's side. "This is my apprentice, Cora. She is also your senior sister," he said to Elara, his voice softer than I had ever heard it. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Sister," Elara's voice was gentle and melodic, but it grated on my ears. I looked at my mentor and, for the first time, threw a tantrum. "Why didn't you tell me? You said I would be your only apprentice." "Do not be insolent," he snapped, his eyes filled with disapproval. I knelt before him. "Master, please, take back your decree." "My decisions are final." "Master…" Elara chimed in. "If Sister Cora is unwilling, I can go to another Spire. It's just… without you nearby, I would be frightened." I ignored her saccharine words, stubbornly remaining on my knees. "She is simply undisciplined," my mentor said, taking Elara's arm. "That is why she has grown so wild." And with that, he led her away. I knelt on the cold stone, a single tear tracing a path down my cheek. 4 I was just a child when he saved me from a beast's maw. I clung to him for three years before he finally relented and took me as his apprentice, promising that I would be his only one. I had cherished that promise for three hundred years. I shed my magical protections, letting my mortal body bear the full weight of my vigil on the cold, hard flagstones. That night, snow began to fall. The flakes melted the moment they touched my skin. I knelt there for three days. He never came to see me. In those three days, he held a grand initiation ceremony for Elara. It was an honor I had never received. On the third night, I used my sword to pull myself to my feet. The senior knight was standing behind me. "Sister, don't be willful." He reached out to help me, but I dodged his hand. He was the one who broke his promise first. I limped down the mountain into the blizzard, letting the skills and spells he had taught me dissipate one by one. Just before I lost consciousness, I knocked on the proprietress's door. When I awoke, the chill was gone, replaced by the sweet, cloying fragrance of a woman's chambers. I tried to sit up, but a sharp pain shot through my body. The proprietress's voice came from behind the bed hangings. "Don't move yet. Your legs were nearly crippled. You need to rest." I looked down at my numb legs as the memories flooded back. "Mistress," I said, "I want to learn the arts of the Crimson Cabal." She laughed. "To cast aside three hundred years of magic just like that… you are a cruel one, little enchantress, even to yourself." For three hundred years, I had trained day and night, just to avoid seeing disappointment in his eyes. The hardships I had endured were far worse than this. The image of his gaze on Elara flashed in my mind, and a bitter smile touched my lips. My three hundred years meant less than her few days. Once I recovered, I stayed at the tavern. I helped the proprietress with the guests and practiced my new arts. Within three months, my power had already surpassed the level I had reached after three hundred years on the Path of Apathy. Even the proprietress praised me as a once-in-a-millennium talent. Whenever she did, I would smile shyly and ask, "So, when can I perform my first rite?" "Have you found someone who stirs your heart?" I shook my head. In my time at the tavern, I had seen many handsome and powerful men, but none had moved me. "Then wait a little longer." I was confused. Why did I have to wait for someone I desired? Was that a requirement for the Cabal's rites? The proprietress beckoned me closer and whispered in my ear, "A carnal rite, at its core, is a matter of passion. Naturally, you should choose someone you desire. That is where the pleasure lies." I nodded, not quite understanding. It was a pity. I hadn't felt that spark in a long time. Until the day I saw the Warlock, Zephyr, dressed in crimson robes. And following him was none other than the Hierophant, Lyren. My heart, after a long silence, began to beat again. 5 When he saw me, Lyren looked away, pretending not to know me. "Wine!" the man in red called out. I brought over two flagons of the tavern's strongest brew. Lyren looked incredibly uncomfortable as I approached, his eyes darting away. He made it seem as if there was some sordid secret between us, when all I had done was confess my feelings to him in the sacred springs. He had refused, and I had let it go. My target today was the man in red sitting across from him. I placed the wine on the table and filled a cup for him. My new skills were still untested, and as I poured, I unconsciously used the same subtle enchantment the proprietress had used on me. I saw his gaze grow hazy with fascination, and a sense of triumph swelled within me. The arts of the Crimson Cabal were indeed effective. The next moment, a strong hand pulled me away, and I let out a small cry. Lyren dragged me into the back courtyard before releasing me. "You are a disciple of the Order of Light. How can you practice these seductive, dark arts?" I was baffled. You can sit and drink with a Warlock, but you condemn my magic as dark? "I am no longer a disciple of the Order of Light," I said coldly. It had been three months since I left. My mentor had never once tried to contact me. Instead, he had announced to the world that he was taking Elara as his final apprentice. I no longer wanted to be his disciple. It was a position I had begged for, and now, I no longer wanted it. Lyren's eyes widened. "Do you know that desertion is a grave crime?" I shrugged. There was no one left in the Order for me to care about. If Kael ever came for me with his sword drawn, I would meet him with my own, and I would fight with all my strength. "Don't tell the Order you saw me here. Otherwise, I'll tell the world you saw me naked in the springs." Lyren's face flushed again. "I am not a gossip. But your presence here will not remain a secret for long, with or without my help." Seeing that blush on his usually serene face sparked a wicked thought, but I suppressed it, mentally chanting a few prayers. A strange sense of morality surfaced. It was probably best not to mess with a holy man. But the thought of pulling the serene Hierophant from his pedestal was so tempting. I swallowed hard. Lyren seemed to notice and immediately adopted a posture of someone trying to avoid a venomous snake. Just then, the man in red, Zephyr, came looking for him. His tone was lazy, teasing. "Master Lyren, you were gone for so long. Were you having a secret tryst with a lover?" A new target. I shifted my attention from Lyren. "Don't be ridiculous. This is a disciple of the Order of…" Lyren's words trailed off as he remembered I had left. "Oh? The lady is of the Order of Light?" I walked over to him, my smile sultry. "I am no 'lady' of the Order." Zephyr caught the hand I had placed on his chest. I feigned a cry of pain. "You're hurting me." "Your mannerisms," he said with a faint smile, "are quite similar to those of my own kind." To my eyes, he only grew more alluring. I realized, with a start, that I had fallen into his trap. When he looked at me, he had been using the same enchantment I had used on him. His earlier look of fascination had been a performance to fool me. Outplayed, I felt a surge of anger and stormed away.
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