The air in the private office became incredibly tense. Both men sitting there were incredibly confident in themselves, like two rams ready to... well, ram into each other. Each as confident as the other that their horns were stronger.
Alwyn had one minor disadvantage though—Malachai knew all about his abilities, but Alwyn knew nothing about Malachai's. Not to mention Alwyn's mana restrictions that would severely impede him in any fight. He hated to admit it, but it was very possible that Lord Drowsen would be able to best him in a fight at their current levels.
That was assuming Malachai had stumbled upon a power as strong as Alwyn was expecting. In truth, he could be incredibly weak. The wizard simply had no way to gauge his power without directly risking serious confrontation.
"Your father—"
"Let me stop you right there. He's not my father," Malachai laughed dismissively. "What's your loyalty for him even about, anyway? That old man's got nothing to offer you. Unless, he's pawning off poor little Marielle…"
"I assure you, he's not 'pawning off' anyone. That's… an interesting image you have of him, there. And for the loyalty—there's no such thing. This is only an exchange, for the many favors he's done for me throughout the years. I'm not one to leave a debt unpaid."
"…'this'? What is 'this' exactly? Surveillance? A threat? Oh, am I supposed to be scared into submission by the big bad wolf? Is that it? If that's the case, I'm afraid you better just leave now. I'm, quite frankly, not scared of you in the slightest, Alwyn. Maybe before… but now? Now, you're weak."
Alwyn flinched at his words, thinking for a moment that Lord Drowsen had somehow found out about his handicap. He shook it off—that was impossible, after all. Or was it? There were many talented fortune tellers in Corvailles…
"Weak? Weak! Wow, you must've gotten awfully strong since I last saw you to consider me weak." Alwyn laughed, leaning back in his chair.
Malachai stayed silent, wearing a humble grin, and just shrugged.
"Strong? I guess you could say that. It's more of an enlightenment, I'd say. I'm sure you understand?"
"I don't. Honestly, I don't understand anything you're doing. What's your goal? You would've definitely inherited the city once the duke retired. Why get all pissy and run against him now?"
"Is that what you think? That I was going to 'inherit the city'? You might want to have another talk with my fath—ha, with the duke before coming back here."
"Is that the case? Even so, you'd abandon what family you had left for… what? Political power? I'd say that was a stupid move, abandoning your only support here—but it seems to be working."
"You're quite the flatterer, Alwyn, but I can't take all the credit. I'm only the face, after all—I owe it all to my new family, my two running mates."
"Partners? Now that's a surprise, I haven't heard anything about that. I didn't take you for the type."
"I didn't either… but things fell into place. And they're great people, too. Real city folk—care about the city and all that. I'm lucky to have them on my side."
Alwyn took a deep breath. 'Guess it's time to pop the question.'
"They're religious, too, I presume?"
"Mmm, yes, but they aren't as passionate as I am. Frankly, I'm surprised you know that about me."
"Is it supposed to be a secret? It's not well kept."
"No, no, of course not! Saint Pischt is our blessed mother. I just don't see how that was relevant to the conversation."
"Oh, I was just curious. There's been strange rumors going about, after all. Of a… 'movement'? Very creepy stuff. Have you heard of it?"
'Aha! There it is! He definitely didn't like that!'
"…Was there such a thing? Wow, I've really got to get out there in the city more—that's definitely something."
"I'm surprised you didn't know!"
"Me too, me too. But, alas, I may know many things, but I cannot know everything!"
"Of course not!"
The two of them went silent, wearing false smiles. It became awkward very quickly.
"Is that my cue to leave?" Alwyn asked.
"Unless you've got something else to say?"
"See you, then. Good luck in the race, I'm sure the festival's an important time." Alwyn stood up, giving a polite nod.
"Oh? You didn't hear?"
"About what?" Alwyn asked, stopping right in front of the doors.
"The election this year falls on the final day of the festival. It's a big deal, you see. So, yes, it's an important time. I look forward to seeing you there to congratulate me, friend."
"We'll see! An arrogant dreamer makes a sore loser. Err, call that my advice."
"As if you're so humble, yourself," Lord Drowsen teased.
"No, I'm not. But I'm better than you, so I don't need to act like a saint just for other people's approval!"
He closed the door behind him, walking past the drowsy servant and leaving the manor with calm haste.
Lord Drowsen's smile held strong even when Alwyn was long gone, but his hand shook with rage.
'Doesn't he know what campaigning is!? It's not acting! It's appealing to their emotions!'
"Caw! Caw!"
Whatever anger the meeting with Alwyn and brought him was washed away as the letter dropped from the birds beak. It was from one of his two associates, Alore. And it was very good news. Very good indeed!
Though, maybe not so good for our brave heroes…
Linnie yelped in surprise, scurrying away from the mirror.
'Have I finally gone insane!? No, it's really that shadow girl!'
"###—Ah#m. C## #ou #nd##sta#d m#?"
"Uh… sorta? Wait, you can talk!?"
The shadow girl forced out a brutal cough, as if she were trying to spit out her own throat.
"Is this better?" she asked.
"It's you! You're back!" Linnie said, moving closer to the mirror. "But what're you doing in this mirror? Wait, don't look at me—it's embarrassing!"
"…Yes. I'm back. I never left, really… I've been watching you this whole time, Lin. I just haven't been able to communicate until now."