Orion could see the question form on the girl’s lips, the demand to know who the hell they were, before her brain caught up with her eyes, and she swallowed it back.

  He wasn’t much better. There was a clear resemblance between them, though not as strong as with Antares, which couldn’t be chalked up to mere chance.

  They stayed frozen like that, locked in a staring contest for several long seconds, until Asteria’s footsteps grew closer, and she saw what he was seeing too.

  The girl’s expression changed then, going from wide-eyed shock to genuine confusion and finally to grim determination.

  “Witch!” she hissed, drawing a wand from her sleeve and pointing it at the older woman.

  “Yes, witch,” Asteria replied, seeming unconcerned about the dangerously red glow from its tip. Considering her recent rank-up, she was probably right to be so relaxed, since the girl couldn’t be more than a few years older than Orion. “Now put that down before you hurt yourself. Where is he?”

  Something about the casual way she spoke made Orion relax, as he could tell she wasn’t as shocked as he was.

  “Why would I tell you that?! You have infiltrated the Collegium and are probably here with nefarious intentions!” The girl replied, and Orion had to admit that she wasn’t wrong.

  It does look kind of bad… But that’s not what’s important now. Do I have a sister? Half-sister? Cousin?

  The thought wouldn’t leave him, and more followed it. He’d never really taken the time to consider his father’s side of the family tree, but he might have had siblings. Hell, he might still have parents around, for all he knew.

  “Even if we were, do you think you could stop us, since we’ve made it all the way here? Wouldn’t it be more reasonable to call on the man you know for a fact is much better suited to handling something like this?” Asteria pressed her.

  She’s acting way too calm. Either she already knew Antares had other children, which I doubt, since it was shocking to so many that he could have one in the first place, or she’s seeing something I can’t.

  Turning [Verification Principle] on the girl revealed the reason for her calm, and made his shoulders sag in relief. A thin layer of illusory magic cloaked her appearance so subtly that it was easily overlooked at first, yet it was powerful enough to subtly alter her features.

  It was impossible to tell what she looked like underneath, but he doubted it was the same face he was seeing, unless this was some kind of magic makeup he wasn’t aware of.

  “I am under no obligation to listen to you, witch! You have no power here!” the girl insisted, and the glow at the tip of her wand grew brighter, making the air start to feel warm.

  However, she didn’t unleash it, which told Orion that she was at least somewhat aware of the significant power gap between herself and Asteria.

  “Then how did I get in? Surely you don’t think your mentor’s work is so sloppy as to let in just anyone?” Cynical amusement seeped into Asteria’s tone, and Orion could see the girl struggling to respond in a way that wouldn’t insult either herself or Antares.

  “I believe that is quite enough,” a new voice interrupted, its bass rumbling enough to command everyone’s attention.

  There he is, Orion thought, his heart skipping a beat at the sudden entrance even before turning around. He was proven right, as the man he’d traveled all this way to meet was suddenly behind them.

  He should have known better than to be surprised, having already known his father’s penchant for dramatic entrances, but it took him a moment to calm his traitorous heart, and it wasn’t at all because of the familial connection.

  Asteria also turned, her face as cold as the ice of the Silverpeak mountains, seemingly unconcerned that there was now a [Fireball] charged at her back, ready to go off at any moment.

  “Naerys, these people are not intruders. Put the wand away,” Antares ordered, purple eyes glowing in the dim light. Though the girl was clearly reluctant, she obeyed without hesitation.

  Despite being filled with questions about who the girl was, what she actually looked like, and why she was presenting herself in a way that could have easily made her pass as Antares’ daughter, Orion held himself back.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Instead, he studied his father’s face, and although it was as still as a pond, he felt like he could sense something deeper going on behind the facade as he looked at them.

  It made him realize what the scene had to look like. He and the girl, both with shockingly white hair and glowing purple eyes, while Asteria, who had once been his lover, stood beside them, more beautiful than ever thanks to her recent rank-up.

  If someone walked in on them without any context, it would look like any other family reunion, just a bit more awkward.

  “Asteria,” Antares murmured, addressing her for the first time Orion could remember.

  “Antares,” she replied coolly, though not with hostility. Considering they were here to ask him for a huge favor, it wouldn’t have made sense for her to attack him, but it still surprised Orion that she was being so civil.

  Maybe she’s matured as well. Sometimes I forget she’s still in her thirties. Her power might be in the same realm as that of ancient witches like Yue and Morliana now, but she’s still very young.

  “Shall we take this somewhere else? I’ve been told by the wards that a few people are gathering, probably trying to stop this very talk,” Antares said casually, as if discussing the weather.

  Asteria closed her eyes for a moment, clearly seeking strength, before nodding shallowly.

  Next thing Orion knew, they were in a much warmer sitting room, with a fireplace crackling cheerfully nearby, and a cozy set of sofas that seemed to clash with the stern air Antares projected, but that were exactly what Orion would have chosen for his own apartment.

  The teleportation was so smooth that only a few seconds later, Orion realized he should have been feeling nauseous. His past experiences with that kind of magic had been terrible, to say the least, and everyone had told him there was no way to make such a violent form of transportation comfortable.

  They haven’t met this man, then, he thought as he eyed his father, who pointed toward the open sofas and settled into the single seater, linking his fingers and giving them a look. “Well? I doubt this is a friendly visit, given its timing.”

  Once again, even though his face stayed perfectly stoic, matching Asteria’s in lack of emotion, Orion sensed a subtle undertone he couldn’t quite identify and realized, for the first time, that this might actually not be a completely pointless attempt.

  His mother hesitated, clearly unsure how to approach the matter now that they had gotten here, so Orion did what he was meant to do and took it into his hands.

  “It’s about the Senate vote,” he said, drawing everyone’s attention to him. “Apparently, a Venerable Archmage has entered the race and is likely to win the vote if things remain as they are.”

  Antares nodded slowly, “Yes, I am aware of that. I try to stay away from gossip, but even ensconced in my tower, it’s hard to ignore the buzz.”

  For the first time that night, Orion felt the full weight of his father’s attention on him, and it was a struggle not to react. Having been around his mother often enough to have at least gotten used to what tier four felt like, he could immediately tell Antares was stronger than that.

  The pressure he emitted was lower, in a strange way, but what little managed to get through made it very hard to focus on anything but him.

  “Well, apparently, the Venerable Archmage has announced that he plans to use the power of the Speakership to bring the hammer down on the other factions,” Orion pressed on, too stubborn to show it was affecting him. “Mallon has yet to take action to stop him, and all the others who could oppose him are happy to ignore the consequences.”

  He doubted Antares hadn’t realized where this was heading, but based on his thoughtful silence, he wasn’t quite ready to express his opinion.

  "We need someone who could pull his support apart and be acknowledged by the majority of the Senate. This person must be universally recognized and respected, possessing power so great that even a Venerable Archmage cannot intimidate him,” he continued, his tone distinctly conveying a plea.

  However, it wasn’t his father who answered him, but Naerys, whom he had almost forgotten about. “Why would Master take on such a role, when all it would lead to is managing squabbling ambassadors and putting out fires across the Magocracy?”

  Orion might have growled at her if he wasn’t already sure Antares was thinking about those same problems. Instead, he seized on her leading question and turned it against her.

  “If he simply wants to ignore the world and focus on his research, isolated in this tower, then he’s free to do so. But anyone with even a basic understanding of logic could see that the world won’t let him do that without interference. He’s too strong, too much of a rallying point for any resistance.”

  The argument seemed logical. Ulysses coming out of retirement as soon as Mallon stepped down clearly indicated deep-seated ambition, and any man with such desires wouldn’t let a point of failure like Antares stay neutral, regardless of his actual disposition.

  But that was why he brought it up. No, what Orion wanted to create was a spark of defiance. He needed something to work with, and if his father was truly as similar to him as he had observed, then only one thing would make him change course.

  It's a desperate attempt, but then again, we are desperate. Three tier four powerhouses relying on me couldn’t be explained any other way.

  “You are saying that I would be just as responsible for the chaos Ulysses will create as he is. That my decision to shut my eyes now is just as momentous as the Senate’s vote.” Antares finally answered, voice taking on a surprisingly amused note. “Very sophistically apt of you, son. I should have expected a philosophical argument when a logical one isn’t going to cut it.”

  That was the first direct acknowledgment from the man that he was his progeny, and Orion wasn’t the only one to notice, as both women around him twitched at that, but Antares had eyes only for him, and Orion wouldn’t let the opportunity being offered pass him by.

  “Just because it is crafted with a goal in mind doesn’t make it any less true,” Orion replied. “I won’t try to pressure you with compassion. We both know you care nothing for the mundanes whose lives will be destroyed by your inaction,” he said, slipping in assumptions as if they were certain. He didn’t particularly enjoy having to express himself this much, but he could see it was working better than any other approach he might have taken, and that was enough to forge on. “But you must know the consequences won’t stop there. And indeed, all those lives might be a mere footnote, considering what Ulysses is likely to do.”

  More than any of the words he was saying, which, while perfectly logical, wouldn’t be enough to move someone like Antares, it was the pathos in his voice, the clear desperation with which he was practically begging him to do something, that he hoped would work.

  He’s letting me speak. That’s something, at least.

  “He was alive long before Cyril was separated from the rest of the continent. Can you honestly say he will not do something about that? That he’d be willing to let nations that let our land fall into total chaos go unpunished?”

  This was a long shot. Just speculation, really, but the argument itself didn’t matter. It was who was making it, and how, that could have any chance of convincing Antares, and Orion fell silent, hoping he’d done enough.

  He represents war, chaos, and the destruction of the world as we know it, and not for good reasons. Are you willing to let that happen? Was I wrong about you?