Gunmage
Chapter 105: The squirrel in the glass

Chapter 105: Chapter 105: The squirrel in the glass

"W-what are you two doing?!"

Lirienne stammered as she threw open the door. Behind it, seated inside the warmly lit room, her second elder sister was hunched over a carved oaken study desk, reading something under the gentle glow of a lamp.

"Mirelle?"

She also seemed surprised, lifting her eyes slowly from the parchment.

"What brings you here, Lirienne... at this time of day?"

Lirienne frowned. That last bit was unnecessary. It was bright and sunny outside, and she wasn’t sneaking around.

"Where is Lugh?"

She finally asked.

"I don’t know"

Mirelle answered, eyes narrowing slightly.

"I don’t think he went too far, though. He left his things here."

"Should we tell Mother?"

"What do you say when asked why you even know he’s missing? Have you forgotten? This area is off-limits."

Lirienne pursed her lips, biting back a sharp retort. Her hands curled into fists at her side.

"So what do we do?"

"Just leave it. He’ll come around soon enough. No need to panic."

He didn’t.

Night came, and Lugh was still nowhere to be found.

"Can we panic now?"

"...Yes... Let’s go tell Mother."

The reaction was instant.

Guards flooded the estate as they searched for "a boy with blonde hair." Lanterns swung in the dark, voices barked orders, dogs were loosed.

Meanwhile...

Lugh lay on the grass under the night sky, surrounded by a hush that no animal dared disturb.

Rodents, snakes, and all manner of nocturnal critters kept their distance, forming a wide, unnatural berth around him.

It didn’t matter much. He was already prepared to do something he had never done before.

Up ahead, dimly lit by scattered moonlight, a faint magic circle glowed around a small creature—a squirrel, frozen mid-step. Caught in one of his mystical traps.

Lugh crept forward with deliberate movements, eyeing the creature. It stared back at him with black, glossy eyes.

For now, no complications.

Then the Mawglass roared to life, its ominous red glow pulsing quietly. Shadows writhed and twisted across the ground like fleeing insects.

The squirrel stared into his eyes.

Then it lowered its head.

A moment of silence. Then it began to tremble—vibrating violently, as though possessed or seizing.

Seconds later, it vanished.

And suddenly, Lugh found himself staring at the forest floor from an unfamiliar, lower angle.

The circle dispersed into sparks.

The squirrel scurried up to him and perched itself neatly on his shoulder.

Turns out, he could control more than just humans.

Even stranger, he now remembered living as the squirrel. Its instincts, its knowledge, its life compressed into a tangle of primal impressions.

It was really weird. But not unexpected.

Needless to say, Lugh felt deeply conflicted about all this.

He turned his back to the clearing where hundreds of half-buried stones lay, and began walking toward the mansion.

Halfway there, he realized the squirrel was still on his shoulder.

It leapt down and scurried ahead.

Lugh watched it with interest. Just thinking about it, this skill had infinite potential—especially on a battlefield.

Had he tried this back in the sewers of Drakensmar, he could’ve taken control of countless rats.

Eyes everywhere. It would’ve been nauseating, yes, but he’d have adapted.

What about... insects? Could he control those too?

By the time he reached the mansion, the estate was alive with activity.

Searchlights, shouting. A perfect scenario.

Let’s begin the test.

He needed a name for his thrall. This wasn’t a human, so no identification applied.

Well... it was a squirrel.

He decided to call it Nut.

With subtle concentration, he puppeteered Nut forward, skirting through bushes and shadows.

He watched through its eyes, an alien but crystal-clear perspective, studying the guards’ movements in real time.

He could have simply used magic to sneak back into his room undetected, but tonight wasn’t about efficiency.

Tonight was about potential.

The results were stellar.

With precise movement and timing, he navigated the patrols and slipped into the mansion without alerting a single soul.

Soon, he stood before his bedroom door.

He brought the squirrel to rest on his shoulder and opened the door.

"Where the hell have you been?!"

It was Isolde. And she was livid.

...

The meeting room radiated quiet power. A crystal chandelier hung from a vaulted ceiling traced with gold-leaf etchings.

Burgundy drapes framed tall windows, casting warm light over darkwood paneling carved with noble crests.

A silver tea set rested atop a silk runner, its soft aroma masking the tension between its guests.

One, Lord Cedric, was old, his platinum blonde hair dulled by age yet still holding a regal sheen.

His robes were dark with sharp embroidery, gold stitching tracing the candle wax sigil of House Von Heim.

The other, Edrin, was younger, straw-brown hair, ambition burning behind steady eyes.

Cedric took a slow sip, his fingers tapping the porcelain. His eyes, sharp and weathered, studied Edrin over the rim of the cup.

"So"

Edrin began, his voice low and precise

"What do you make of the assassination attempt on Isolde?"

Cedric set the cup down with a soft clink, fingers brushing his trimmed white beard.

He didn’t answer right away.

"It’s a calculated move, no doubt,"

He said finally.

"But something else is far more important."

Edrin blinked.

"The Church?"

Cedric nodded, the lines on his face deepening.

"Exactly. The Church. We don’t yet know how, but they were caught in a skirmish with the royal guards. Two inquisitors were slain."

Edrin’s brow furrowed.

"Does that really concern us?"

Cedric’s voice sharpened, eyes narrowing.

"Of course it does."

The tone left no room for doubt.

"Don’t you know Isolde left the church mere moments before the attack?"

Edrin shifted in his chair, discomfort creasing his expression. Of course he knew, he wouldn’t have come here otherwise.

"But... Isolde. She was nearly killed"

Cedric scoffed, the sound dry as old parchment. A faint, bitter smile crept across his lips.

"That’s the story they’ll give. Don’t you find it odd that the church was keen on killing the assassins before they were interrogated. To the point of disregarding a royal decree. The frustrating part is that they succeeded"

A flicker of something crossed Edrin’s features.

"Isolde is in cahoots with the church"

The realisation hit him like a tidal wave. He continued

"If this is true things could get really bad"

Cedric interrupted.

"No need to get so hasty. This is just speculation on my part"

He paused before adding.

"But still, we must be prepared for anything. I think its high time you visited the capital."

"... Understood"