The emissary from The Eternal Court waited in Avalon's makeshift meeting hall, a structure that had once been an elven temple before Task Force Valkyrie repurposed it for military briefings. Captain Alastair Reid studied the figure from the doorway, taking his time before making his presence known. The emissary stood with perfect stillness, examining the maps of Aeltheria pinned to the walls with the casual interest of a predator surveying potential hunting grounds.
Lord Caedmon cut an imposing figure even without his armor. Tall and lean, with aristocratic features that seemed carved from marble rather than flesh, he exuded the confidence of someone who had navigated centuries of court intrigue and survived. His silver-white hair was pulled back in an elaborate braid adorned with small gemstones that pulsed with ley-line energy, and his eyes—an unnatural violet that seemed to shift in the light—missed nothing.
"I know you're there, Captain Reid," Caedmon said without turning. "Your heartbeat gives you away. So distinctly human—quick, anxious, mortal."
Reid stepped into the room, keeping his expression neutral despite his irritation at being detected. "Forgive me for not rolling out the welcome wagon, Lord Caedmon. The last representatives of The Eternal Court we encountered tried to kill us. Makes one a bit cautious about diplomatic overtures."
Caedmon turned, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Understandable. Though I assure you, if I wished you harm, we wouldn't be having this conversation." He gestured to the maps on the wall. "Your understanding of Aeltheria's geography is impressive for outsiders. Though I notice several... creative interpretations."
"We work with what we have," Reid replied dryly. "Accurate maps are hard to come by when the locals keep trying to turn you into undead servants."
"A problem I sympathize with more than you might imagine," Caedmon said, his expression growing serious. "Which brings me to why I'm here."
Williams entered the room, positioning himself casually by the door—casual if one ignored the way his hand never strayed far from his sidearm. Dr. Whitaker followed, her eyes immediately drawn to the gemstones in Caedmon's braid, her academic curiosity momentarily overriding her caution. Lance Corporal Singh took up position near Reid, her expression carefully neutral but her posture alert.
"Lord Caedmon claims to represent a faction within The Eternal Court opposed to Seraphine," Reid explained to his team. "He's offered information about her plans in exchange for our cooperation."
"How convenient," Williams muttered. "And I suppose next he'll be selling us beachfront property in the Bone Wastes."
Caedmon's lips twitched in what might have been genuine amusement. "Your sergeant has a refreshing directness. Rare in any court, eternal or otherwise." He turned his attention back to Reid. "I understand your skepticism, Captain. The Eternal Court has not been... kind to your world since the Gate opened. But you must understand that Seraphine represents a faction within our ranks—powerful, yes, but not unopposed."
"And you represent the opposition?" Whitaker asked, studying him with academic intensity.
"I represent those who recognize that awakening The Weaver would be catastrophic for both our worlds," Caedmon replied. "Seraphine believes she can control it—harness its power to reshape reality according to her vision. She is mistaken, and that mistake will destroy everything if she isn't stopped."
Reid crossed his arms. "Gareth warned us never to trust anyone from The Eternal Court. Said deception was as natural to you as breathing."
"Ah, Gareth ap Llewellyn," Caedmon's expression softened slightly. "My former student. His betrayal of Seraphine was... unexpected. His survival even more so." He sighed. "He was right to warn you. The Court is built on layers of deception and manipulation. It's how we've survived for centuries."
"Not exactly building confidence here," Williams remarked.
"I'm not here to build confidence, Sergeant. I'm here because necessity makes for strange alliances." Caedmon's violet eyes fixed on Reid. "Seraphine is preparing to corrupt a major ley-line convergence near the Bone Wastes. If she succeeds, the resulting energy surge will destabilize ley-lines across both Aeltheria and Earth, weakening the barriers that keep The Weaver contained."
Whitaker stepped forward, her academic caution momentarily forgotten. "That aligns with my findings. The ley-line disruptions we've been tracking suggest a pattern of deliberate corruption spreading outward from Seraphine's territory."
"Indeed, Doctor," Caedmon nodded approvingly. "Your understanding of ley-line energy is impressive for a human. The convergence point is ancient—one of the original nexuses created during the Sundering when Excalibur severed our worlds. If corrupted, it could create a cascade effect that would essentially unlock The Weaver's prison door."
The door opened again, and Maeve entered silently, her face pale but composed. The ley-line markings on her skin pulsed faintly as she approached, her eyes never leaving Caedmon's face.
"Maeve of the Silver Branch," Caedmon said softly. "The last time I saw you, you were being dragged before Seraphine in chains."
"The last time I saw you," Maeve replied, her voice steady despite her obvious discomfort, "you were standing at Seraphine's right hand while she tore my memories from my mind."
A heavy silence fell over the room. Reid's hand drifted closer to his sidearm, and Williams tensed visibly.
"I did many things in Seraphine's service that I regret," Caedmon said finally. "Including standing aside while she tortured you. I cannot change the past, Daughter of the Grove. I can only try to prevent a future where both our worlds fall to The Weaver's hunger."
Maeve studied him, her expression unreadable. "There is deception in your words," she said after a moment. "Not entirely false, but not entirely true either. You hide something."
Caedmon inclined his head slightly. "Everyone hides something, Maeve. Even you. The question is whether what I offer outweighs what I conceal."
Reid had heard enough. "Let's cut to the chase. What exactly are you offering, and what do you want in return?"
"I offer intelligence on Seraphine's forces at the convergence point—their numbers, their positions, their weaknesses. I offer guidance through territories you would find... challenging to navigate alone. And I offer my own not-inconsiderable power against her corrupted servants." Caedmon's voice was smooth, reasonable. "In exchange, I ask for your support against Seraphine's faction within The Eternal Court once she is defeated."
"Political maneuvering," Reid said flatly. "You want us to help you take her place."
"I want to restore balance," Caedmon corrected. "The Eternal Court has ruled Aeltheria for millennia, Captain. Its sudden collapse would create a power vacuum that would devastate this world far more thoroughly than Seraphine's ambitions. What I propose is... reformation, not revolution."
Singh, who had remained silent until now, stepped forward. "And what guarantees do we have that you won't turn on us once Seraphine is dealt with?"
"None whatsoever," Caedmon replied with surprising candor. "Just as I have no guarantee that you humans won't exploit Aeltheria's resources once you've 'saved' it. Trust is a luxury neither of us can afford. But mutual interest? That's something we can work with."
Reid exchanged glances with his team. Whitaker looked torn between academic excitement and caution. Williams radiated skepticism from every pore. Singh's expression was thoughtful, calculating. And Maeve... Maeve's eyes were distant, as if seeing beyond the present moment into possibilities that only she could perceive.
"We need to discuss this privately," Reid said finally.
Caedmon nodded graciously. "Of course. I'll await your decision." He moved toward the door, then paused. "One more thing, Captain. Seraphine plans to begin her ritual at the convergence point in three days, when Aeltheria's twin moons align. After that, it will be too late for either of us to stop what comes next."
After Caedmon had been escorted to a secure area of the base, Reid gathered his team for a hasty council of war.
"I don't trust him as far as I could throw him," Williams said immediately. "And considering he's probably got some magical weight-altering trick up his sleeve, that's not far at all."
"His information about the ley-line convergence matches my findings," Whitaker countered. "And the timeline with the moon alignment makes sense from a magical perspective. Ley-line energy would be at its peak during such an event."
Singh tapped her fingers thoughtfully on the table. "Even if he's telling the truth about Seraphine, his motives are clearly political. He wants to use us to eliminate a rival."
"He was there," Maeve said quietly, drawing everyone's attention. "When Seraphine took my memories. He didn't participate, but he didn't stop it either. He watched with... curiosity. Like it was an experiment."
Reid felt a chill at her words. "Can we trust anything he says?"
Maeve's eyes met his. "There is truth in his warnings about The Weaver and the convergence point. That much I can sense. But there are layers beneath his words—plans within plans. The Eternal Court does not think in days or weeks, Captain. They think in decades, centuries. Whatever Caedmon wants, it's more complex than simply replacing Seraphine."
"So we're damned if we do, damned if we don't," Reid summarized grimly. "If we refuse his help, we might miss our chance to stop Seraphine before she destabilizes the ley-lines further. If we accept, we're potentially walking into another trap."
"There is a third option," Whitaker suggested. "We accept his help but remain vigilant. Use his intelligence but verify it independently. Keep him close enough to benefit from his knowledge but not so close that he can stab us in the back."
"Keep your friends close and your enemies closer?" Williams snorted. "Bit cliché, isn't it?"
"Clichés become clichés because they work, Sergeant," Whitaker replied primly.
Reid considered their options, weighing the risks against the potential benefits. They needed every advantage they could get against Seraphine, especially with Crowe's spies watching their every move and the fragments of Excalibur still not fully understood.
"We accept his offer," he decided finally. "But with conditions. He provides his intelligence first, and we verify it before committing to any joint action. He remains under guard at all times. And we make no promises about supporting his political ambitions after Seraphine is dealt with."
"He won't like that," Singh warned.
"He doesn't have to like it," Reid replied. "He just has to accept it if he wants our help."
When Caedmon was brought back to the meeting hall, Reid laid out their terms without preamble. The sorcerer listened with an expression of mild amusement, as if he had expected nothing less.
"Cautious, but reasonable," he said when Reid had finished. "I accept your terms, Captain. Though I should warn you—Seraphine's forces at the convergence point are formidable. Even with my intelligence and your... impressive adaptability, this will not be an easy battle."
"Nothing in Aeltheria has been easy so far," Reid replied dryly. "Why start now?"
Caedmon's lips curved in a smile that was almost genuine. "Indeed. Then we have an agreement—a bargain between The Eternal Court and Task Force Valkyrie." He extended his hand in a surprisingly human gesture.
Reid hesitated only briefly before shaking it, feeling the unnatural coolness of Caedmon's skin against his own. As their hands clasped, he couldn't shake the feeling that he had just made a deal with a devil he didn't fully understand.
But with The Weaver stirring and Seraphine moving to awaken it fully, what choice did they have?
"To unlikely alliances," Caedmon said softly, his violet eyes gleaming with something that might have been triumph or might have been simple satisfaction. "May they serve both our interests, Captain Reid."
"To mutual survival," Reid corrected, withdrawing his hand. "Nothing more, nothing less."
As Caedmon began outlining Seraphine's forces on the maps of the Bone Wastes, Reid caught Maeve's eye across the room. Her expression was troubled, her ley-line markings pulsing with agitation. Whatever game The Eternal Court was playing, they were now pieces on its board—whether they liked it or not.
Just another day in Aeltheria, where even the allies might be enemies in disguise.