I stood at the entrance to the dungeon doing my best to contain the urge to stare in amazement.

I had seen a lot of things in my long life, but this was a reminder that I had not seen it all. Of course, I couldn’t let the emotion show on my face.

Beside me, Philipe stood as well.

Every few seconds he’d glance nervously at me and then return his gaze to the sight that captivated us both.

Past the barrier into the dungeon, in its main circular room, two forces battled. The growing Asrid Flowers appeared like a forest surrounding their battleground. The two opposing sides, each comprised of shin-high mushroom men, looked identical. I could see no weapons or magic being used, rather they uselessly beat against one another. The soft bodies of these people seemed to spring back from any strike without issue.

Every once in a while, one of the bodies would fly across the room to bounce against the wall or the floor. A victim of another who had used his mushroom cap head to flip his enemy away. Not that it did any harm either, as the victim would stand and charge back into the fray. The only sound heard was the soft patter of mushroom violence.

“Hmmm,” I knelt to get a better view of the combat, though it didn’t help. There were too many tiny arms and legs bouncing back and forth for me to find a difference between them. I could imagine that if I were under attack by either army, that their strikes would feel no different than someone tapping a finger on my shoulder.

“They’ve been doing this all day, master,” Phillipe spoke softly, his words came as his eyes tracked yet another flying mushroom man. This one flew back into a wall and bounced twice on the floor. After a moment, it stood to shake its head before quickly waddling back towards the fight.

“I… see,” I stroked my hand through my beard. One mushroom man fell to the ground and pretended to die.

Its arm reaching upward in an imitation of a fallen soldier asking for help before shuddering and falling still.

When none of its comrades came to its aide, it rolled away, leaped up, and resumed its attack.

This would be an interesting study. What had inspired them to violence? I had seen them use tiny weapons and fight against insects in their arena. What was stopping them from using an insect to fight with? Was this some kind of mating ritual? Was this a game? An act? Did it have to do with Lilly’s sudden departure? I shook away my thoughts, now was not the time.

“Very well. Continue to monitor them without interfering, and write a report for me when I return. Also, should any actually fall in this,” I paused. The word was on the tips of my tongue, but I felt hesitant to say it. I did say it, but couldn’t keep the mirth from my voice, “battle.” I coughed once into my fist so that I could maintain a sense of decorum before continuing, “then please obtain the corpse. I haven’t yet had the opportunity to dissect one.”

Philipe’s eyes were filled with contained laughter as he answered, “Yes, master.”

The day I had departed my tower had been tumultuous, and I only felt ready an hour after sunrise. It was a cool morning, with light sprinkles falling from thundering clouds. The weather had promised a heavier rain later in the day, but I wouldn’t be here for it, which was a pity. Afternoon thunderstorms provided an excellent atmosphere for napping. This weather continued for nearly the entirety of my weeklong trip, making it a dreary journey indeed. A journey made worse by the need to wear pants the whole time.

When I had left, my self-given mission was fourfold. I had used the entirety of the more than two hundred prepared totems. Even warded them with defensive magics to prevent the items from being damaged, though I didn’t know how well that would hold against the Pestilence.

I intended to learn what I could of the ongoings of Tervan from the border, as the redness in the skies hadn’t yet abated, but aside from a smattering of refugees struggling north, I couldn’t see far into their lands.

I also raised any smaller towns and villages along the way, lifting them onto plateaus. I hadn’t heard back from Baron Froom yet regarding the gateways he had claimed his apprentices were building. I didn’t doubt the man at all, yet I feared the efforts might not be quick enough.

Between plateaus and warded totems, I hoped that would be enough of a delay. I also located several vineyards that I would ensure were raised on plateaus. I doubted that whoever remained after the end of the age would forget how to make wine, but wanted to ensure that I always had access to a good vintage just in case. I hoped the elevation didn’t ruin the stock.

While the mundanity of this work left me feeling as though I were only putting up a futile resistance to an inevitable outcome, I did it nonetheless. It was on my return trip north that I stopped in Eiston to meet with the Duchess. I planned to personally thank her for her gift of couches. I had changed garments from my normal traveling attire to a courtlier robe, and my lower half was once again happy to be freed from the confines of pants.

As I made my way through the city, those present bowed and stepped out of my way. The murmurs on the street were loud as I passed, though the people sounded more excited than disturbed. I hadn’t thought that my presence would have been as noticeable as it was, but I didn’t stop to question why as I made my way to her castle.

The castle itself was smaller than one would think should be for a city of this size, and had seen better days. The building was mostly built from hay-colored stone, though the two towers on the right side were of newer construction. Long cracks were apparent along the foundation, though the cracks were too thin for anything beyond an insect to crawl inside.

As I approached the entrance, the heavily-armored guards saluted and stood aside. Their leader, a woman whose helmet had a long plume on top stepped forward and greet me. Her cloak rustled behind her with her movement.

“Good day to you, hero!

The duchess was concerned her invitation wouldn’t reach you while you were away, but will be glad to know her guest of honor has arrived.”

I answered with a smile, though I didn’t give away my surprise. Whatever invitation I hadn’t received was no doubt back at my tower awaiting me.

I hoped it wasn’t to a ball. My legs might feel free now that the pants were put away, but that didn’t mean that I enjoyed such formal wastes of time.

“I will escort you,” she said after my smile, before proceeding to turn about and march through the entrance.

I followed at a stately pace behind her, though it was nice not to be rushed this time. When we entered the courtyard, where archers and men-at-arms practiced, their trainer called them to a halt and ordered a salute.

I responded with a nod, though I was starting to fear what might await me.

I was led inside, through the nacre pillars in the entrance, and down a different hallway than the one that led to the Duchess’s audience hall. This hallway was to the right of the entrance, and I could see further hallways leading off to guest chambers. Servants hurried up and down those chambers, cleaning with an air of urgency.

The hallway ended into an open room that was as big as the courtyard. Several tall, round tables were placed along the edges, and the entire right side contained long tables with a feast laid atop. Noblemen and women of various ages and attributes mingled and ate. Their words echoed off the ceiling in a way that made the room feel as loud as a river.

I couldn’t help but give a resigned sigh as I saw the center and back of the room. The back of the room held a stage with musicians playing music that could only barely be heard over the chatter. The center was cleared of tables and food but made up for it with dancers. I mentally cursed myself for not going to my tower first. Of all the events the Duchess could be holding, why did it have to be a ball? I had thought my attire entirely presentable for court. Had I known it was a ball, I wouldn’t have come at all.

Yet, as I looked about, I noticed several familiar faces. Baron Llal was surrounded by three noblewomen as he told some story of adventure or battle. Count Wilchrest, with Baroness Nix at his side, was standing with two other men and their wives, likely the other two counts in the Duchy. Several noblemen and women of various ages surrounded Baron Froom and his wife as his wife talked. His eyes met me from across the hall, a look that pleaded for me to assist his escape from where he stood. I returned his gaze with a conspirator’s wink that promised I would try if the opportunity presented itself.

I considered turning about and getting a room at an inn to wait for this to pass, but before I could the guard beside me shouted, “Now presenting, Alderman Nemon Fargus, Wizard of Lark, Hero of the Battle of Four Couches, and guest of honor!”

I froze. While I paid no mind to the name the soldiery had given to the battle, I loathed the idea that the nobility would follow suit. No doubt my name would be written in history books now with that detail included. Future scholars would read it and wonder ‘Why did this wizard fight four couches? He must have been as mad as the king claimed!’ It certainly wouldn’t do me any justice. By the dead sea gods, I fought against a fifth-tier mage with a holy artifact while defending an entire town against magic!

The music died down.

Many of those sitting stood, and then a round of clapping began. Slow at first until soon all were putting their hands together in appreciation. While the nobles here smiled and clapped, I could see the mirth on my former assistant, Baron Froom’s, face. No doubt he had something to do with the naming of the battle, and I would have my vengeance.

Wizard tricks should never be taken to this level. It was—It was barbaric!

Yet I smiled and nodded, as appropriate, waiting for my chance to make my way to the man and let him know my thoughts. Before I could do so, another loud voice called out from a doorway toward the rear. “Now presenting Duchess Eiston!” The heads quickly turned, and the matronly woman walked out from the side door, followed by several handmaidens and guards. Then, the clapping began anew. I took that moment to head towards the tables holding the food. If I was forced to attend a ball, I would sample every type of wine they had.