Free Royal Institute of Magic: Elizabeth's Legacy by Victor Kloss

mural of a world map. Light spilled in from the
window as if the sun had parked itself just outside the Institute,
giving the room a bright, airy feel.
    “Natalie, could you make
tea for three please – plus yourself if you want a cup?”
Wren said. She had popped her head in an adjacent room Ben hadn’t
noticed.
    Charlie walked over to the sofa
and was staring at the map on the wall. “Oh my,” he said.
    Ben couldn’t see what the
fuss was about. It was a map – albeit a big one at least ten
feet wide.
    “Look, Ben,” Charlie
said. He leant on the sofa and pointed up at different
countries.“These countries don’t exist on our maps.”
    He pointed to a dozen countries –
some small, some as big as France – scattered across the map.
    “You know your geography,
Charlie,” Wren said. She sat down on the sofa. Charlie took a
step back and half fell into a luxurious, brown chair. Ben sat down
on the remaining chair.
    “I can only imagine the
questions you must have,” Wren said, giving them both a lengthy
look. “So, you tell me, where would you like to start?”
    “My parents,” Ben
replied instantly. Questions buzzed round his head, but he chose his
first one carefully. There was one thing he needed to be absolutely
certain of. “Are they okay?”
    It was clear Wren saw Ben’s
concern. “They are alive. We’d know if they weren’t.
As to their well-being, that is harder to say as we don’t know
where they are.”
    Ben’s elation at their
safety was tempered by their unknown whereabouts.
    “Why are they being accused
of treason?”
    Her grey eyes held his and Ben
had a feeling she was considering withholding the truth. He was about
to demand it when she broke the little stand-off.
    “There is a dark elf king
by the name of Suktar. It would take hours to recount the long and
bloody history of his empire. Suffice it to say that over the
centuries it is not the French or the Spanish who have been England’s
greatest threat, but Erellia, King Suktar’s kingdom.”
    “What does he have to do
with my parents?”
    “Suktar is accusing your
parents of murdering his son, Prince Ictid. He is threatening to
break a truce we have worked hard to establish unless they are
brought to justice.”
    Ben was grateful he was sitting
down. Head spinning, he grabbed the armrests.
    “Murder?”
    Wren’s kind eyes found his
and their warmth soothed his rising panic. “I am convinced it’s
nonsense,” she said, “as is the majority of the
Institute. Your dad can be unruly at times and a terrible influence
on your mother, but they are two of the most honest people I know.”
    Ben was struck by how well Wren
seemed to know his mum and dad. “Did my parents work here?”
    “They do work here,”
Wren replied. “In fact, they are two of my best Spellswords.”
    “What is a Spellsword?”
    “Sorry, how would you know
that?” Wren said, admonishing herself. “Spellswords are
the Institute’s armed forces. As the name suggests, they are
trained in both spell and sword to combat everything the Unseen
Kingdoms can offer.”
    Ben turned away, staring into
light coming from the window, trying to take everything in.
    “I thought my parents
worked for Greenpeace. I thought they had a normal life – you
know, drive to work, do normal work stuff, pick me up, bug me about
homework.” He smiled sadly. “Turns out I didn’t
know them as well as I thought.”
    “That’s not true,”
Wren said softly. “Yes, they didn’t reveal their true
occupation, but you knew them in every other sense.”
    Ben knew he should be delighted
to discover their exciting profession, but he felt slightly empty.
Why had they never told him about it? Why conceal something as
incredible as this?
    “Not everyone seems as
convinced as you that my parents are innocent,” Ben said,
thinking of Draven’s remarks. Our position weakens every minute we waste in bringing the Greenwoods to
justice.
    “There is little evidence
of their guilt and