In the months that followed, Gerlyn found her place within the Elimination Company.
Of course, I knew this.
I have eyes and ears in every fog and mist of Ashwood Town and Sommerville City. It's effortless to slip through these veils when you've mastered the art of remaining unseen.
I watched the little light bug claw her way up from the bottom, starting with the menial tasks—the ones nobody else would touch. It's amusing. Most people don't realize how close they are to their destiny—just a few steps away.
Sure, she's been misunderstood and bullied there, but it's all necessary. Character building, some might call it.
Gerlyn still thinks she's just an orphan or a cursed mortal. But those very powers? They'll carry her straight to Sommerville Headquarters.
There, amidst the best agents, she'll fight—though not without my help.
She, my little Light Bug, will eventually stand beside Andrea, my white nightingale.
The critter needs a guide—even if she doesn't know it yet.
And I'll make sure of that.
From my lawyer's office window, I surveyed the city below. Perched at the highest point in Sommerville, it offered a panoramic view of every corner, every alley, every shadow. In one of those backstreets, I saw him—a figure cloaked in darkness, materializing from shadow, then flickering away like a wisp of black smoke.
Andrea had been right.
Devyn, the Destroyer, had just arrived in Sommerville.
But he wasn't going to ruin my plans that easily.
If he was truly after Gerlyn—the newly minted Light Guardian—he'd have to peel through the layers of the Elimination Company first.
Good luck to that.
And if you're wondering why I didn't just kill Devyn after all these years?
Firstly: he's a powerful wielder of unnatural magic. I don't even know if I could match him in a straight fight.
Secondly: just as Light has its guardian, so does Darkness. Devyn is the Dark Guardian itself. Destroying him would be futile—fate would simply appoint another.
And who knows? The next Dark Guardian might be crazier than him.
I mean, that's exactly what happened with the others.
No—I needed to be smarter than that.
I needed this Dark Guardian alive, contained, and far, far away from here.
It was well past office hours, and the weight of the day gnawed at me. Maybe a drink would clear my head.
I needed a change of scenery—something to shake this stagnant pressure pressing against my chest.
Just as I reached for my coat, Delancy stepped in. Her voice sliced through the still air.
"Mr. Gacanagh," she said, holding out an envelope. "A VIP ticket addressed to Mr. Spade. An auction at the outskirts of the city. A three-day event called The Lingering Afterglow."
The name struck a chord.
Was this the same auction Elis had been invited to? And… Mr. Spade?
Did they seriously not know who I was?
I am Gacanagh Spade, I thought. But no one ever used just my second name.
For tonight, I would let them call me Mr. Spade. Perhaps "Gacanagh" was too… terrifying to appear on a guest list.
I wouldn't bother correcting them.
"Thanks, Delancy. Head home—I'll see you tomorrow," I said, slipping the ticket into my coat pocket.
Well, since they wanted Mr. Spade and not Gacanagh… I would give them Mr. Spade.
Mr. Spade would wear glasses and a mask to conceal the lower half of his face.
Maybe an evening without scheming was exactly what I needed.
The Lingering Afterglow sat at the edge of the city, its sleek, dark stone walls absorbing light like secrets. The architecture whispered of wealth and silence. The only visible marker was the golden glow spilling from within—a subtle invitation for those who knew how to see it.
Above the entrance, a discreet silver-lettered sign read Lingering Afterglow, the cursive script shimmering faintly in the fading twilight.
Two imposing guards flanked the doors, dressed in black—shadows stitched into human form. Their eyes swept over me with practiced suspicion.
I cleared my throat, slipping into character.
"Sorry, gentlemen. Bit under the weather—hence the mask," I said, adjusting my glasses with a rehearsed smirk.
"It's alright, Mr. Spade," one replied after checking the VIP pass. He stepped aside.
I nodded and entered.
Inside, the room was steeped in gold and smoke—a haze of money, magic, and carefully veiled menace. I slipped into a seat, taking in the guests.
A pharmaceutical tycoon.
A hotel magnate.
A matriarch of a jewel dynasty.
And then… Elis.
My fox. Still playing nice in wolf dens, I see.
So Elis was already here.
A woman emerged from the crowd, commanding attention. She was of Asian descent, with sleek dark hair pulled into a high ponytail. Her deep brown eyes gleamed with intelligence and warmth—mesmerizing when the light caught them just right. Serpent-shaped silver earrings sparkled as she moved. Her full lips curled into a confident smile, and the scarlet leather dress and crimson boots she wore exuded boldness and elegance.
Every step she took was calculated. Impossible to ignore.
She had a magnetic presence—for a mortal. And that's coming from me.
A spotlight flared at her gesture, casting her in warm gold. She glided onto the stage, her dress rustling like whispered secrets.
She raised a hand with theatrical grace. The crowd fell silent.
"I am Roulette, your host for this evening's proceedings," she said, her voice smooth and decadent—like honey on warm bread. "Distinguished guests, please take your seats and prepare for the next three days."
The air thickened—perfume and anticipation mingling with barely restrained greed.
"We will now begin the auction," she said, her tone suddenly sharp as glass. "You all know the rules. Let us start with the first item."
She smiled—a sly, serpentine thing.
"We begin with a golden goose, carved by the late Vincent Dawnbringer nearly a century ago. This artifact symbolizes the promise of a golden tomorrow. Only one of its kind exists."
A golden goose?
This was the Light Guardian's great legacy?
How utterly… uninspired.
"The starting bid is three hundred thousand."
I wouldn't even pay two dollars for it.
"Four hundred thousand!" barked a man.
"Five hundred thousand!" snapped another.
Then, "Seven hundred thousand!"
Roulette's voice cut cleanly through the noise.
"Seven hundred thousand, going once… going twice… sold to the gentleman in the black hat!"
Applause thundered.
The man looked like he'd just won divinity in a bottle.
Fools. But amusing fools.
I leaned back, watching as Roulette's men brought out the next item. Her every movement—precise, commanding—held the room hostage.
The evening blurred into indulgence: flickering chandeliers, the soft clink of glasses, murmurs of fortunes shifting hands.
Just as I was preparing to leave, something flickered in the corner of my eye.
A shadow. Cloaked. Ethereal. Sliding through the crowd like a phantom.
My heart didn't race, but my mind sharpened.
If that was Devyn, then Roulette's little show had just become far more dangerous.
Her voice rang out again, slicing through the tension.
"Stay tuned for more priceless items—enchanted necklaces, rare magical creatures, and magical jewels!"
Magical jewels?
Was the emerald… here?
Was this a hoax?
Did this woman have any idea what she was meddling with?
Do I want to leave it to chance?
My fingers tightened around the edge of my seat.
My gaze swept the room.
If the emerald was truly here, I couldn't let it fall into the wrong hands.
Or worse—her hands.
A human who treats enchanted relics like trinkets in a boutique.
Ridiculous. And playing with fire.