Chapter  24– The Spiritcaller Continued

 As Curtis ’s quiet words settled over the table like a winter mist, a beat of silence passed among them. It took the others—Terty, Freeman, and Saker—a moment to truly register what he’d just said.

A moment too long.

The woman in the doorway let out a soft, amused laugh. It was the kind of sound that danced at the edge of mockery, the purr of a predator curious about its prey.

“So you’re the mage, then? Curtis , was it?”

“That’s right,” Curtis  replied calmly. “And you?”

“Redna,” she said, lips curling. “And yes, I’m exactly what you said—a Spiritcaller. Curious, though… you didn’t seem to know me. So how did you guess?”

“You seemed… warmhearted,” Curtis  said dryly, his eyes steady.

Redna raised her brows, then chuckled—genuinely this time.

“Sharp eyes. That’s good. I was starting to feel a little overheated anyway.”

With a fluid, unhurried grace, she reached up and undid the clasps of her heavy robe. The thick outerwear slid open, revealing a slender, sculpted form beneath. What had been hidden beneath her flowing garb was now unmistakable: the silhouette of a woman both beautiful and dangerous.

But no one was looking at her for that.

Where a necklace’s pendant might rest between collarbones, there floated a flame—not drawn, not summoned, simply resting in the air above her chest.

It burned bright and alive, no larger than a child’s fist, and yet not a wisp of heat touched her skin. Her robes, light and soft, showed not a hint of singe or scorch. Not even a mark of soot.

This was no mortal fire.

Freeman and Saker both swallowed dryly, their mouths suddenly parched.

Terty’s voice dropped to a murmur.

“How did you see it, Curtis ?”

“Let’s call it a mage’s intuition.”

Curtis  gave a short answer—true, if incomplete.
He couldn’t explain it all, not here. But it wasn’t a lie.

His control over water extended beyond sight or sound. He felt the moisture in the air, the subtle dance of dew and vapor, even in silence. And now, he had felt something else—a force pushing that moisture away, rippling the currents of the world itself.

There had been no visible flame, but the fire’s heat had parted the water’s presence around it like a hand in still water.

It was like watching a ripple spread across glass.

“I’ve never been able to tell a fellow magic-user on sight,” Redna said, gently placing her hand over the flame. “I suppose we all have our tricks.”

Her fingers caressed the fire with the same ease a bard might strum a harp. The flame obeyed—flowing into her palm, like a loyal creature, and resting there.

She looked at Curtis  with mischief in her eyes.

“Now it’s your turn.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Magic. You’ve seen mine. Seems only fair I see yours, don’t you think?”

“That’s an odd definition of ‘fair.’”

“Don’t want to?”

“And why should I?”

“Because something very bad might happen if you don’t.”

Her tone was playful, but her eyes were not.

Redna lifted the flame toward her lips. With the tenderness of someone blowing out a birthday candle, she gave it the gentlest puff of breath.

And the world ignited.

FWOOOOOM.

What had been a small, ember-sized flame exploded—no, unleashed—into a roaring stream of fire that surged forward like a dragon’s breath. The very air howled in protest.

“Are you out of your damned mind?!”

Freeman and Saker threw themselves to the ground, cursing and scrambling.

Terty sprang up, hand already reaching for his sword.

But Curtis  had moved before anyone else.

His hand was already on the large water goblet they had brought earlier, untouched since he’d drowned his thirst in beer. It was full—blessedly full.

As the firestorm surged, Curtis  swung the goblet wide. The water, arcing through the air, caught his will mid-flight.

With a flick of unseen power, it stretched and unfolded, forming a glistening curtain in the air. Vapor gathered from every corner of the tavern—moisture called to arms—and thickened the watery shield until it was nearly opaque.

Then—

SSHHHHHHHAAAAAA—!

Flame and water collided.

Steam screamed into the air like a thousand snakes hissing at once. The tavern was swallowed in mist. The shockwave rattled mugs and trembled tables.

Redna’s flame died back—but Curtis ’s shield had evaporated completely.

A win, if one counted first blood. But for Curtis , it was little more than a warm-up.

He could reform the barrier in seconds. He could counter, strike back, punish the flame that dared test him.

He was ready.

Until—

“…!”

Something shimmered before his eyes.

His mind screamed a dozen conclusions in an instant.

But in the end, Curtis  did nothing.

He chose to wait—to understand.

And just like that, the fire retreated. The roaring tide of flame flowed backward, like a serpent slithering into its master’s palm. Within moments, the inferno was no more than a flicker—gone before the second hand could fall.

“What in all hells do you think you’re doing?!”

Terty exploded, voice like thunder cracking against stone. He grabbed for the sword resting at his hip.

“You cast a spell in the middle of a Rulers-damned tavern?! Are you insane?!”

“Did I?” Redna said, tilting her head. “I don’t recall doing anything.”

“You—what?!”

“Nothing happened, did it?”

Terty sputtered. He looked around the room, pointing furiously.

And yet… the tables still stood. The chairs were upright. The wooden floor remained unburnt. Not a trace of soot. Not a whisper of ash.

Impossible.

“W-What sorcery—?”

Redna smiled sweetly.

“The flame of a spirit burns only what I ask it to. I had no quarrel with the tavern. I only wanted to see your friend’s magic. If he’d refused, well… things might have been different.”

“You—!”

“But he didn’t,” she said cheerfully. “So all is well.”

Terty growled, fingers tightening around his hilt.

Curtis  raised a hand.

“Enough, Terty. We’ve seen her strength. Let it end.”

He turned to Redna, voice calm.

“You’ve withdrawn your flame. I take it you don’t intend to escalate this further. If that’s so, I’d ask you to leave. Let this nonsense end.”

Redna’s smile widened—a victor’s smirk, touched with quiet cruelty.

“Of course. I was merely curious what kind of mage you were. And now I know.”

She turned, letting her robe flutter as she made her way toward the door.

“House Gaude sent you an invitation, didn’t they? I’m sure Narok did as well. Are you planning to involve yourself in this little war?”

“I’ve yet to decide.”

Redna looked over her shoulder.

“Don’t choose Gaude. There’s no seat left at the table.”

Curtis  frowned.

“What do you mean?”

“Gaude sent their invitation to keep you from siding with Narok. But after tonight? They don’t need you anymore.”

“You arrogant—!”

Terty’s patience finally broke. His blade hissed free of its sheath, silver in the firelight.