Anton stepped through the portal to Mezot’s room in the Graterian Royal Academy. She had not sent any further letters nor come through herself. As Anton quickly pushed away the headache he understood her reluctance to make the journey, it became easier with each subsequent trip but it was still unpleasant. In the room beyond Mezot paced back and forth, carving a path through freshly accumulated loose papers. Some were nothing more than shreds, and she wore soft slippers.

"Mezot," Anton spoke slightly louder than necessary. "Are you alright?"

Mezot instantly stopped her pacing, her normally emotionless face, except if magic was the discussion, was drenched with fear and trepidation.

"What's happening?"

Mezot sprung back into life, rifled through the papers smothering her desk until she produced a small scroll. The paper was exceedingly fine and adorned with small tassels of red embroidery. The roll had once been sealed, a broken wax seal lay stuck to the top, but Mezot clearly had only opened it once. She hurried to his side and passed it over. He glanced at her again, Mezot wasn’t about to explain and Anton didn’t expect her to as he unfurled the small paper. Behind him the portal flashed again, Verona and Cetina stepped through, but he was too focused on the paper to notice.

“Lady Mezot, you are cordially invited to the Imperial Palace for the debut of Prince Proculus’s wife, Lady Nepia.”

“Yes…” Mezot nervously picked at her nails.

“And this is a problem because…?”

“Because…” Mezot looked back to the desk then to the door, perhaps for her daughter. “Because I have to leave the Academy. And travel to the Imperial Palace…”

Mezot pulled on her robes just beneath her collar. They weren’t bad clothes but they were not something one wore when meeting a Prince of an Empire, doubly so when he was introducing his new wife to the other nobles and important dignitaries.

“Do you not have a dress? Or whatever formal wear is in Graterious?”

“What’s happening?” Verona asked, wrapping her arm around Anton’s and pushing her chest into his. He caught Mezot glare, for just an instant, at the folds in Verona’s armour.

“Mezot has been summoned to the Imperial Palace for…What would you call it?”

Cetina delicately took the scroll from Anton’s hand. She grumbled as her spare hand traced underneath the words, she had been trying to improve her reading comprehension. Unlike a certain silver-haired woman…

“Looks like you don’t have a choice.” Cetina passed it to the nerve-wracked Mage. “Do you?”

Mezot shook her head, more of a tremor than a deliberate shake. “No. I…I didn’t think this could happen when I became a lecturer.”

“So it’s not just you.” Anton nodded once. “At least you won’t be alone.”

“They still don’t talk to me. Much.” Mezot looked to the door again. “I…I was wondering, Axia told me to be more…Assertive?”

“Did you want us to come with you?” Anton turned to the other girls. “We don’t exactly have good clothes ourselves but it’s not like we don’t have the money.”

Mezot clasped her hands deathly tight and nodded furiously.

“Alright.” Anton smiled. “Perhaps it’ll be a great excuse for a shopping trip. Ah, you girls might not know what that means, at least what it does to me.”

“Finally, some fancy clothes.” Verona parted from Anton. “Not that these aren’t good. But…Does that mean a dress?”

“Women normally wear dresses,” Mezot said softly.

Verona turned to Cetina, she nodded too.

“Well…I suppose it’ll be alright.”

“You really hate dresses,” Anton pulled Verona underneath his free arm and gently stroked her side. “Don’t you?”

“It’s not the dress itself.” Verona played with a loose strand of hair. “It’s just that I like pants...No breeze or someone to flip it up so someone can see my ass.”

“Then wear something underneath?” Cetina raised a brow. “I’ve worn them when I was younger, there’s nothing wrong with them.”

“We’ll get you a good one.” Anton parted her silver hair. “One where you don’t have to worry about everyone seeing this and gawking like you’re some sort of freak, or a marauding despoiler.”

Verona buried her head into his chest, suppressing a tiny sniffle.

“So where would we go to get these good clothes?” Anton asked. “I’ll need to get something good for myself as well. Obviously not a dress.”

“If we’re leaving I’ll break the portal.” Cetina deactivated the portal. “Just in case someone walks in here and finds this. Can’t have them finding Atros.”

“I can’t feel the magic now. Strange…” Mezot’s’ face lit up. “How is it that stones infused with Glyph Magic, able to move people and objects across truly vast distances, immediately disappears the moment the circle is broken. How is that possible?”

Mezot returned to her desk and shuffled through the papers. Anton stepped forward and gently tapped her shoulder. Mezot’s excitement remained but it dimmed slowly as she realised she wasn’t going to have time today.

“When is this thing?”

“This afternoon,” Mezot spoke without emotion.

“It must be a surprise wedding then.” Cetina mused, holding her chin and looking at the ground. “There have been a few very quick weddings throughout history but I don’t think they would invite people, even from the nearby city, if it was organised today.”

Mezot took back the scroll. “I received this three days ago.”

“You know…” Anton gently rubbed his temple. “You know that you could step through and find someone. You don’t need to wait until we step through before telling us.”

Mezot looked away, unable to look at any of them. “Sorry…”

“It’s alright.” Anton gently squeezed her shoulder, Mezot relaxed slightly.

“I…” Mezot frowned lightly. “I don’t have much money either. I still haven’t been paid for my Lecturer position…”

“They’re not paying you?” Anton asked softly, he felt his hand grip tight.

“They are. It’s coming in the next few days so…”

“Again, we have cash. So, what’s the best place in Boreana?”

---[]---

Acquiring the clothing was a rather long and uneventful affair. After demonstrating they were very wealthy the attitude of the designers immediately changed and they were rushed through the process. It was somewhat costly but Anton didn’t mind, not that they had much of a choice if they wanted to attend. After rereading the letter it was quite clear not attending simply wasn't an option.

As the journey to the Imperial Palace was quite long, and the chance of something happening to their new clothes quite high, both accidental and deliberate, they chose to rent a carriage. The two large horses parted the crowds, even when the people didn't want to.

Anton shifted in his new clothes. He wore something very similar to a black suit, with a bright blue blazer. Thankfully his new boots were oversized and his shirt was slightly loose to accommodate his changes. The shop employees were very understanding and barely inquired once he mentioned a magical mistake, which wasn't exactly untrue. However, his were not as monstrous as what the poor young student had suffered. Overall he was very impressed by their work, so too were the three women alongside him who had said nothing when he first revealed himself. At first he thought they hated it, he could not have been more wrong, even Mezot thought it looked good. Of course, it wasn't just him that had an upgraded wardrobe.

"Should we get a carriage?" Verona asked, sitting next to Anton, holding his arm tight. "Look how comfortable it is. We could easily explore the whole Kar Kingdom in comfort and without having to exhaust ourselves walking or riding."

Verona sat next to Anton wearing a bright red dress that reached her ankles. The upper half lay sheer against her skin, showing the world that her curves were entirely natural. As the red dressing reached the middle of her breasts it changed to a thin silvery material that reached her neck and to her fingers. A small metal band on her middle-aged finger ensured the silver cloth did not rider up her arms and, more importantly, reveal the red tattoos that covered nearly every inch of her body. Her hair had been braided and pulled to one shoulder, at the end layer her red and silver barrette, the other side of her head a beautiful white flower nestled above her ear.

If I met you like you are now I wouldn't know what to say.

Anton smiled, Verona frowned and leant closer. As she did her arms pushed her breasts together, pulling the silver cloth in, forming a perfectly smooth and alluring crevice.

Yeah. There's no way I wouldn't fumble my words. Probably just make an arse of myself.

"I have something far more impressive than a carriage in my mind." Anton kisses Verona's forehead. "There aren't all these rattles and bumps either. All we need is to find some rubber. We have everything else thanks to the Dwarves. Have I told you about my vehicles?"

“No.” Verona leant closer. “Wait. No, you did.”

“Are those the metal…” Cetina rolled her hand. “Metal contraptions?”

“Yes.” Anton smiled. “In a sense.”

Cetina still wore her personally stylised Qaiviel armour. The owner had been adamant to get her into a dress, so she could make more money, but Cetina stated her duty as Anton’s bodyguard and that she couldn’t do that in a dress. She acquiesced to a small gold and blue bracelet, one she was very happy to receive. Verona had mentioned how he was using gold to seduce women, Anton replied that he already had, all out of hearing range of Cetina. There was also a white and green dress for Kal, similar to Verona's that Anton hoped Kal would love. It was just a matter of convincing her to wear it. She was a bit like Cetina in that regard.

“They’ll revolutionise the world.” Anton proclaimed, much to their surprise. “Surely, Cetina, you don’t think the rifles are the only thing that I have?”

Cetina smirked. “Of course not. I doubt that someone like you is going to be satisfied with just that.”

Verona chuckled and stretched out her back, raising her hands over her head and pushing out her chest. The silvery material was very thin and when stretched it was thin enough to let the red tattoos to peek through. When she dropped her hands down, her upper body bounced up and down, much to the silent fury of the person sitting next to Cetina.

Mezot’s green eyes burned with a murderous envy, something Verona only seemed to exacerbate with her movements. Anton was astonished by the woman now sitting opposite him, there was no other way to describe her. Her short blonde hair was swept back, using a type of gel to keep it in place, with a small yellow gold piece of jewellery over her right ear, a small yellow flower over her left. Asymmetry was the current fashion, apparently. Although Anton suspected Mezot lacked in the chest department he didn’t expect there to be absolutely nothing. A completely flat body, albeit with a very narrow waist and surprisingly wide hips. Nevertheless, the tight yellow dress looked extremely good on her body. Especially when she was walking away. As Mezot calmed she placed her hands, bare hands with some simple jewellery on her wrists, in her lap and took a deep breath. Any calm she had instantly evaporated.

“How much did this cost?” Mezot blurted out. She was hesitant to even move her hands, to wrinkle the yellow dress. “I…I…This is worth more than the village I grew up in.”

“It’s…” Anton hesitated. Simply saying it was fine, while Mezot was panicking over the wealth that was being thrown at her, would only make the situation worse. And considering Mezot it was best to be direct and honest.

Funnily enough that seems to be the best approach for everyone.

“I thought that we should look our best,” Anton said calmly. “And this is a gift from me. But, if you feel that it is too much for a gift, then you can pay it back through teaching. I’m sure that a personal Principle Mage tutour costs a lot. Yes?”

Mezot nodded. "Only nobles or wealthy merchants can afford to send their children to the Academy."

"Then it looks like we'll be in your tutelage for some time to come." Anton smiled. "Please treat us well."

Mezot bit her lip as she tried to hold back a smile. Verona held back her chuckle while Cetina shook her head and looked out the carriage window.

The carriage began to turn very suddenly, Verona leant on Anton to stay upright, as they began the ascent towards the Imperial Palace. Even through the small glass window of the carriage, cutting off most of the palace, Anton felt very small.

Mighty spires cut through the sky, all of their tips glowed with an unnatural light which Anton presumed to be powerful magic. As they passed through Anton was reminded of the city shield that had surrounded Cloussone though far more subtle. Hundreds of Graterious soldiers, near-identical to those protecting the Royal Academy, stood proud on the inner walls; great bows, catapults and trebuchets ready to fend off any attacker.

“I remember someone saying the Emperor had Dragons and Griffins at his disposal.” Anton leant close to the window of the carriage. “Or were they Drakes? Either way, I haven't seen either yet.”

Verona gently shuffled towards him. She too looked out the window too, resting her hand on his shoulder.

“There are some,” Mezot said softly. She had calmed but refused to move lest she damaged the dress in some manner. "But I don't think they're kept in the Imperial Palace. Probably the Bestiary."

"The what?" Verona tilted her head.

Mezot shrugged lightly. "The place where the Royal Army is stationed. I believe it's to the north of the Palace." Mezot looked at her clasped hands again. "But I haven't left the Academy that often...So I don't really know."

“Probably kept in a dingy, dirty pen.” Verona leant her weight against Anton. “Only brought out for war or some kind of parade. But I'm certain they're horrifying to meet in battle. That dead Griffon could easily tear open a Peryton’s stomach.” Verona sniggered, raising her hands and resting them on her head, spreading out her elbows. “Not that it fared much better.”

“I’m certain Dragons would need to be kept in cages.” Anton mused. “Thick Adamantium bars too. Unless they are completely tame. I wonder what they look like. Are they like the ones from my memories?”

“Some can use magic.” Mezot’s perked up slightly. “From what I’ve seen it looks very similar to your Glyph magic. They don’t have staves of charms…Unless part of their anatomy allows them to replicate it.” Mezot held a finger to her lips. "Perhaps part of their skeleton acts like one?"

“Definitely not something you’re going to get your hands on.” Verona laughed. “Definitely not to dissect them. Don’t think they’ll like you doing that.”

“Only hardened Chelium or Adamantium can cut through dragon scales,” Mezot said, her tone as a matter of fact. "Iron and even Bosicyium bounce off. They are extremely dangerous."

"Drake scales?" Anton asked. "I can't remember which one they had."

“Stronger than steel,” Mezot said calmly.

Anton held his chin. “Only the most elite soldiers could use Dragon or Drake scales. No wonder everyone uses gambeson.” Anton smiled. “But we have someone who can make something order of magnitude stronger than cloth.”

“Out of her butt too,” Verona whispered then laughed loudly, much to Cetina and Mezot’s confusion.

“But if they only have five Dragons, or Drakes, inbreeding will become a problem. Something we might have to worry about with our animals, especially the Chiroks. Do you know where they come from?”

“I…Don’t know.” Mezot frowned. “I think it’s somewhere to the east, maybe. Or perhaps the south. I honestly don’t know. They were not something I was interested in learning about.” Mezot looked out the window. “The people that did know about that don’t talk to me…”

Anton sighed softly as he turned back to the window. The carriage lurched to a halt as they began the ascent towards the Imperial Palace. Many carriages littered the impeccably laid white stone pathway. A small cadre of Graterian soldiers surrounded the carriage. One knocked on the window. Anton produced the scroll and presented it to the soldier before he could ask. The soldier’s eyes quickly scanned the paper, gave a quick nod and ushered them forward.

Their carriage began the slow ascent up the gently sloped pathway towards the front of the palace. Anton spied guards lining the road, some even looked like armoured Principle Mages, patrolling through an extensive garden and multiple pavilions.

Some sort of public garden but for the Emperor's family? Of course you’d want to keep the riff-raff away. It does look pretty good.

The carriage began to flatten out as they reached the entrance of the Imperial Palace. The giant wooden door was made from a dark and red marbled wood straight from The Shadow Isles, quite possibly from the era of the United Empire, lay nestled inside giant white stone columns, great banners of the Graterious Empire’s heraldry fluttered in the light breeze. They looked extremely new, no tears or frays or even degradation of the colour. It would be untoward for the Emperor to look cheap.

However, the door remained shut with only a line of heavily armoured soldiers standing in front. From his position in the carriage he could see more gardens and small pavilions filled with people dressed in bright and fashionable clothes.

The carriage began a slow turn and stopped some distance before the main entrance. Verona looked forward before gaining Anton’s attention and tapping her cleavage. A small vial of fresh blood lay nestled within. Unless someone was actively trying to reach into her breasts they wouldn’t know it was there. Anton briefly remembered something very similar occurring at night but a knock at the door stopped such errant thoughts.

Cetina opened the door, the metal hinges barely made a sound, and a young male servant smiled through the door.

“Hello, esteemed guests.” The servant bowed low. “If you would please exit the carriage we will escort you towards the pavilion while Prince Proculus and Lady Nepia prepare for her debut.”

“It sounds like you already know that we’re supposed to be here,” Anton said.

Cetina tried to step out first but Anton stopped her. Her confusion was understandable, even the servant was slightly bemused. Anton wanted to take advantage of a very rare opportunity. Anton stepped to the side of the door, the servant took a step back and offered his hand. Cetina shook her head as he took hers. Despite the metal gauntlet her hold was gentle and warm.

“Should be the other way around.” Cetina murmured, but the barely hidden smile told him the truth.

Verona stepped out next. She took a moment and laughed as she took his hand.

“Thank you, Duke Anton.” Verona tried her best to curtsy but her dress was somewhat restrictive. “Though soon I’m certain you’ll be standing alongside the Emperor.” Verona gently touched the ground. “Perhaps he’ll bow to you?”

Anton pulled Verona close and glanced at the servant. His face was unchanged. Anton hoped he would think it was Verona’s attempt to butter up Anton, flatter him with something that was clearly above his ability. At least to an outsider, someone that didn’t know what he had planned for Atros. And even if word did reach his employers they would surely dismiss it. Had Verona mentioned the Beast-kin…

“Now, now.” Anton kissed Verona, giving her rear a gentle squeeze. “You need to behave yourself.”

“Can’t help myself.” Verona gently pushed him away. “I wonder what the Qaiviel women will wear when they throw themselves at you?”

Anton held out his hand for Mezot. “I do not think about that. And worry about the present.”

Mezot waited at the door, unwilling to move forward. Her feet nervously ground at the edge of the door, she held herself hunched forward in an attempt to reduce her presence.

“Mezot,” Anton said. He waited until Mezot looked at him in the eye. “Come on. We’re not going anywhere without you.”

Mezot gave one final glance either side before she stepped out. She took Anton’s hand, her hand was soft and extremely warm but lacked any significant strength, and refused to let go.

“Thank you.” Mezot almost smiled. “This…This is incredibly stressful for me.”

“It’s just a quick debut,” Anton said. “Basically a chance for the lords and nobles to mingle, maybe even try and arrange for their children to marry to strengthen their alliances and business ventures.” Anton turned to the servant. “About how long is this expected to take? Not that we’re trying to leave, of course.”

The servant smiled. “Similar events have not finished until well after dark. And, while there are debuts of lesser nobles, the Emperor and the other members of the royal family speak with everyone, from the highest born.” The servant’s smile deepened. “Even to a newly promoted Ice Mage.”

Mezot’s pulse quickened. Anton gently squeezed her hand to reassure her.

“Glad to know that the Imperial family keeps up to date on every little going’s on,” Anton said, the servant smiled. “How early are we exactly?”

“If you would please follow me, there is still some time before the main event.” The servant smiled. “We have many places where you can get out of the sun and the heat. It would be terrible for your clothes to be ruined by something as detestable as sweat.”

“That would be fantastic.” Verona chuckled nervously, pulling on the thin fabric covering her chest. “This stuff doesn’t have the cooling enchantment like my normal armour…As you can see I’m…”

Anton agreed, a slight amount of sweat had already caused it to stick directly to her skin. It made the see-through silvery material even more transparent.

“It’s not so bad.” Cetina flexed her arms. “You just need to get used to it.”

“You’ve had it pretty easy until now.” Anton squeezed Verona’s cheek.

Verona pouted before swatting him away.

“I’m afraid that you’ll have to surrender your weapons.” The servant bowed his head. “For obvious reasons, we cannot have weapons near the Emperor.”

“But armour isn’t a problem?” Anton asked. The servant raised a brow. “Not that I’m questioning your decision.”

The servant smiled. “Even with armour such as yours, it would do little to impede the Guards. You would barely make two steps before you were cut down.”

Well, that’s a warning.

Cetina looked to Anton. She really didn’t want to surrender her father’s sword.

“If we’re going to get in we’re going to have to obey their rules. It is their house, after all.”

Cetina reluctantly surrendered her sword, she made it clear to the servant that she would get receive it completely untouched. “Please take good care of them. They are very important to us.”

The servant nodded once. He requested the scroll invitation, just to double-check, and returned it.

“We would like some mild privacy before this event,” Anton said. “If at all possible.”

“Of course. Please follow me.” The servant said something to the carriage driver as he drove away.

Verona pulled close, wrapping her arm around his while Cetina and Mezot walked just behind. They turned some heads, Anton couldn’t tell who they were focusing on specifically but several were staring at Verona’s and Mezot’s rears, not that he didn’t understand their wandering eyes. The servant led them to a small garden pavilion, overflowing with immaculately maintained plants and flowers alongside some rock pools filled with fish. Anton almost skipped a heartbeat upon seeing the fish, memories of the White Realm came flooding back. With a bow the servant left, telling them they would be collected when it was time. Until then they could wait here, a different servant remained at the far end of the pavilion in case they required something.

“I suppose it would be rude to ask for something to eat.” Verona brushed the white stone seat that encompassed most of the perimeter of the pavilion. She frowned as she looked at fingers, a slight stain of dust on her fingertips. “I’m starving.”

“Something will be provided during this debut. If this thing is supposed to take the whole afternoon I’m certain they will.” Anton looked out of their pavilion to the people waiting. “If they don’t there’s going to be a riot.”

Verona laughed as she took her seat next to Anton. Cetina remained standing as Mezot stared intently at the selection of flowers and plants on display. Anton found it rather difficult to focus on her face, especially when her rear was so proudly displayed.

“And you said you were nervous,” Anton said. Mezot stopped studying the plants and looked at him, her face blank. “So far you’ve done extremely well. You didn’t really need us here.”

Mezot chuckled, something he rarely saw. “I’m not that good.” Mezot moved to take a seat next to Anton but looked at Cetina, standing before them with her arms folded. Cetina motioned for her to take the seat, which Mezot gladly took. “I still feel…Overwhelmed. But, after meeting you, all of you, it’s not so bad.” Mezot smiled nervously. “Without Axia it’s really bad. She keeps…Me calm.”

“She’s an incredible daughter,” Verona said. “I wish that my children are anything like her.”

Mezot blushed. Axia was likely the only reason that Mezot was still in the Royal Academy, perhaps even that was still alive.

“Do you think this is a good chance to get some more allies?” Verona asked.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Cetina said. She looked towards the servant, standing perfectly still but listening intently for the slightest hint their attention was required. “I doubt there would be any sympathetic to our cause. Especially anyone from the north.”

“Mezot,” Anton said softly. “Can you keep what you saw in our home a secret? Someone might try and pry it out of you, either by using clever questions over outright flattery. You’d be surprised what people might say when they’re speaking to a friend.”

Mezot nodded fiercely. “I understand, Anton. But…Do you think someone would try that with me?”

“Absolutely. You’re a new guest, very beautiful and a powerful Principle Mage at that.” Anton laughed. “If anything we’re going to have to fend them off.”

Mezot smiled, unsure of how to take such a blatant compliment. Verona and Cetina shook their heads, suppressing their own desire to laugh at Mezot’s embarrassment.

“Do-”

“This is a surprise.” A distantly familiar voice spoke loudly from the pavilion entrance. “I didn’t know where you’d gone after leaving Graterious for the second time.”

Anton looked past Cetina, who stepped to the side and instinctively reached for her sword, silently cursing that it was gone. Lord Cassius stood at the end of the pavilion, the servant standing in between, though it wouldn’t take much to simply push them aside. Cassius looked remarkably younger and healthier than before. No longer being influenced by Strega Magic was probably the root cause. A woman stood beside him, a young, thin and extremely beautiful with an exceeding revealing dress hugging her form. However, something about her expression bothered Anton, it was an expression Anton had seen innumerable times. She had almost no interest in what she was doing, only going through the motions for the money. Anton didn’t know if Cassius was married but he doubted that it would be appropriate to attend such an important function alone.

“How did you manage to get an invitation?” Cassius glanced down to the servant. The backs of his legs were shaking, Cassius was one of the three most powerful people in the empire.

“An interesting tale.” Anton smiled and waved him through, the servant respectfully bowed out of the way. The woman accompanying Cassius immediately moved to the nearest stone seat and ordered a wine.

It can’t be that bad, surely? Just act nice and smile…

“Does it have anything to do with this fair maiden?” Cassius nodded to Mezot. “I remember you, Verona, and Cetina, but not you.”

Mezot remained completely unphased by Cassius’s compliment.

“This is Mezot." Anton began, when it became clear Mezot was not going to speak first. Her body had turned completely rigid. Anton wondered if she knew what Lord Cassius looked like. "A recent addition to the Lecturers of the Royal Academy. She was invited to this…event, and had no one to go with.”

“So you just bought two, no,” Cassius smirked, snapping his finger at the servant. “Three incredibly expensive outfits just for this? Not to mention a complete set of Qaiviel armour. Did you even need me for a ship?”

“Absolutely. But we needed something better than just armour for our future outings.”

“I suppose,” Cassius whispered something to the servant who ran away with great speed. “But it does give off a certain…idea. To those that know you and those that watch your passing with great interest. Like you aren't interested in gold or prestige but rather something else. Something that might just turn out to be harmful to the empire.”

The servant returned with a large white wooden chair for Cassius. Cassius thanked the young man and took his seat.

“And what about you?” Verona asked, pointedly ignoring Cassius's last words. “Porswea is a long way from here.”

Cassius's lip twitched. “Of course I must attend this accursed gathering. I cannot reject a direct summons from the Emperor. Well, not without causing major issues.”

“I must ask.” Anton leant forward slightly. “But this is the same Prince that was involved with your…”

Cassius glumly nodded. “Indeed.” His hands gripped tight. “Every time I even think about that man my blood boils.”

“You’re,” Verona coughed lightly, pulling Anton up and herself closer. “You’re still wearing the little ward that we gave you?”

Cassius gently tapped the simple amulet on his arm, partially hidden underneath a far more expensive golden band.

“I have yet to take it off. I've never felt better. Actual sleep and no more nightmares.” Cassius tapped the amulet again. “I spoke to my mages. They didn’t know anything…They wanted to have a look at this amulet but I wasn’t about to let this thing leave my wrist for even a single moment. Can you check me again? See if something’s still lingering inside my head?”

“Can I use magic within the Imperial Palace grounds without getting into trouble?" Anton asked. "I’m sure they'd love to know why a Mage, and not a Principle Mage at that, is using potentially destructive magic so flippantly so close to the Emperor."

Cassius rose up and moved to the edge of the small ring of plants surrounding the white pavilion. He searched the lower gardens for something, snapping his finger at whatever had caught his attention.

"You see that?"

Cassius pointed to a small group in a nearby pavilion. Anton recognized one of the people from Mezot's test, he wore his best robes while he put on a display of simple magic. The smaller children looked thoroughly impressed, the adults were clearly discussing something but Anton couldn't make out what.

"Probably want to see if their child will become the next Battle Mage." Cassius laughed. "Striding into battle with magic and sword. Have you seen one in action?"

"No." Anton held Mezot's shoulder. "But our Mages tend to hang back, where it's safer. And for the safety of our own people. You should see just how powerful Mezot actually is."

Mezot flushed, Cassius raised a brow at Verona and Cetina but said nothing, even though they were both smiling in their own way.

"But my magic is slightly different," Anton said. "I'm sure they'll detect it the moment I use it."

Mezot nodded, the first sign of life from her since Cassius arrived. Anton wasn't surprised that it was only regarding magic, nonetheless in as glad that she wasn't frozen stiff.

"It'll be fine." Cassius smiled. "I'll just tell them you're with me, and my lovely..." Cassius raised his hand towards his disinterested companion, quickly letting drop against his side. "Person wanted to know."

Anton quickly searched through Cassius and found no trace of the green smoke. “Nothing. But there might be some inside your female companion. I should check her too."

“What…Oh, right.” Cassius dismissively waved his hand. “Go for your life.”

Verona frowned lightly as Anton approached the woman. She drank heavily from the glass goblet of wine, only sparing him a glance when it was clear he wished to speak with her.

“Excuse me but I just need to check something.”

She grunted and continued drinking. Anton mentally sighed and held her shoulder. She kept a firm eye on his hand as he searched and found nothing.

“Thank you.”

“Whatever.” The woman shrugged his hand off and returned to drinking.

Anton quickly returned to his seat, Verona gently patted his hand. “She doesn’t have anything, thankfully, but could you explain what’s happening with her? She…”

“I think it's pretty obvious." Cassius folded his arms. "My wife died just after my daughter. I have no desire or compulsion to be married again, but attending this event on my own is not good form."

“Since we have some time to wait.” Anton leant forward, there was no sign anything was progressing. More carriages were arriving and dropping off people, very few people were dressed as well as they were but the line of carriages was not stopping. “How are things in your land? Is Fort Acidava repaired and ready for the Clansmen?”

“It is.” Cassius smiled. “Those creatures were a surprise. Still no idea of what they are, people have been searching the oldest archives and found nothing.”

Well, we know what they are…Do we really? I’m certain the Wood Elves would know more.

“You still have the bodies?”

“Of course.” Cassius nodded. “Apparently their internals are very interesting. But…That doesn’t change much. Other than that…My lands are doing well, the Clansmen haven’t attacked and trade is doing extremely well.”

“And Virgil?” Anton asked. Cassius caught the servant’s attention and ordered some drinks. “An upturn in trade and increased traffic on the roads means better pickings for bandits. Did you get any further with Tullas Mad-Eye?”

“Annoyingly no.” Cassius folded his arms. “He gave us the information you did, I’d like for you to do that again if possible, but not little else. We disrupted their activities, overall they’ve been very quiet, but we’re no closer to discovering who Tullas is.”

“Could be anyone.” Cetina scratched her chin. “Man, woman, or a group of people pretending to be one person.”

“All are a distinct possibility.” Cassius glumly nodded. “No idea who it is. But I can’t have them harrying me much longer. Sending out soldiers and hunters costs a small fortune and saps my strength. But…I suppose it could be worse.”

“It would be terrible if it was someone in the royal faction leading these people,” Cetina said softly.

“I have often thought that.” Cassius rubbed his chin. “With one of their largest bases right here in the capital, I do believe that someone is sheltering them. I can't order a strike on-”

“There you are!” A new voice shouted from outside the pavilion.

Cassius rolled his eyes, forcing a smile as he looked over his shoulder. Standing before the servant, now slightly annoyed rather than nervous, was a short and stocky man, built more like a Dwarf than a human, smiling wildly behind a bright red thick beard.

He too wore clothing similar to Cassius but designed to show off his impressive muscles rather than Cassius's more humble design. His entire arms were exposed with his clearly defined muscles rippling with raw strength, the short man was truly built like a Dwarf.

"Lord Umbris." Cassius smiled and waved him in, the servant quickly moved out of his way. Umbris winked at the boy and slipped him a silver plate. "I thought they would have put you on the opposite side. You know what they say when we meet in public."

"That trouble is afoot." Umbris's voice was deep, rich and almost holding back a constant need to laugh. "Not that it isn't true."

Both laughed but a pain lay underneath, Anton saw it the moment they laid eyes upon each other. Their mere presence reminded each other of what they had lost.

"Can't wait for this mess to be over," Umbris grumbled before clapping his hands. "And who have you decided to harass today, dear friend? You didn't just happen to lay eyes on three beautiful women and decided to go for it? Even though they are clearly being escorted."

Umbris's eyes flicked to Cetina. "And one of those women looks pretty tough."

Cassius explained who they were, to the best of his knowledge. Umbris listened intently, not speaking a word while resting a hand on Cassius's chair.

When Cassius was finished Umbris nodded appreciatively whilst stroking his beard.

"So you were the one with the Dark Elves." Umbris chuckled, signalling the servant to bring another chair. "I didn't believe it at first when I heard they were travelling up the coast to Seocuria. The Dark Elves never leave, well almost never, leave their Isle. Except for that one group travelling through Bebbezzar. That was strange..."

"You have contacts there?" Cetina asked.

Umbris's eyes raked Cetina's armour. "That armour isn't from Bebbezzar but those colours sure are. I regret to inform you that Bebbezzar is now in a state of total collapse."

"How bad is bad?" Verona asked. They all knew it was bad but it would be strange for them to know everything, especially since they were supposedly travellers on some sort of mad quest.

"Very. My sources say that only one member of the Royal family still lives and she is on very borrowed time. The Merchant Lords in the centre and south bicker and war amongst themselves, some have tried to invade Qaiviel, which looked like it was about to follow in their footsteps but miraculously didn't."

Verona glanced at Anton, the slightest hint of a smile. It instantly evaporated, she remembered what type of people these Lords were. Anton had no idea if they suspected anything but descriptions of a strange group of mercenaries involved in the few major battles would eventually trickle back to Graterious. It appeared they did not know or were simply keeping quiet.

"So it’s essentially a colossal mess." Umbris continued. "The coastal port cities still stand defiant, though they've formed some sort of alliance to keep themselves safe. So trade still functions, for now at least. But the border with Seocuria is no better. That looks like it's about to implode as well, but I have no idea who's going to win that one. Probably the Seocurians. At least they’re a cohesive empire."

"And the cities and forts near the Clansmen. What about them?"

Umbris smiled. "They are the most heavily fortified and militarized places in Bebbezzar. Everyone’s going to give them a wide berth, unless they want to fight people that regularly stare down Clansmen and win. No point in widening your fronts, right?"

"Such a mess." Cetina grimaced and shook her head. "So many people dead for nothing."

Neither lord responded. If they had their way Graterious would have drowned in civil war already.

"Lord Umbris." Anton began, immediately cut off by a raised hand.

"Just Umbris, please. Like Cassius here we have enough people trying to grovel and heap titles and empty platitudes upon us to gain our favour. Just a few moments without that would be nice."

"Can't be easy in a place like this." Anton waved to the surrounding garden. "So many powerful people and yet you're both in one spot. I'm surprised a crowd hasn't gathered around you already."

Umbris gave a hearty laugh. "They had. By all the gods they tried to swarm me. So I gave them and my wife the slip. I know they'll be furious, my wife because I left her with such people, but I just had to get away."

"Umbris." Anton stood up. "I'd like to check you for something."

Cassius instinctively reached for his wooden bracelet.

"Don't think we have time for a full inspection." Umbris patted his large belly. "And I'm in fine health. Also, I'm not the kind of person that desires others men."

"Not that." Anton held his shoulder. "But I just want to make sure of something."

Anton slowly searched through Umbris's body. The man giggled and shuddered playfully but stopped from a stern look from Cassius. He found nothing until he reached Umbris's head. The green smoke was very weak but unmistakable. With a gentle brush the smoke disappeared.

"Do you feel any better?" Anton asked.

Umbris pursed his lips. "Maybe. Some mornings I feel extremely groggy, even when I haven't been drinking."

"He has it too?” Cassius's grip tightened on his wrist.

Anton nodded. “Yes. Not much though, but I have no idea what it was doing. It might have been a lingering aftereffect, I honestly have no idea.”

I wonder if Ferula would tell us exactly how Strega Magic works.

“But it’s gone now. I’d like to make something that can keep it at bay. Perhaps. I’m not sure if they’ve tried to get Cassius again. But I need something that you’ll wear constantly, so long as it’s not already enchanted with some sort of magic.”

“Really?”

Umbris received a nod from Cassius. Umbris passed over a small ring from his finger. Anton clasped it in his hand and stopped.

"Creating this is a little bit different compared to what I've just done. They might be even more upset." Anton looked out of the pavilion, guards patrolled the area but none were heading towards them. "I don't want to be shot by a guard with something to prove."

“It’ll be fine.” Cassius smiled. “You are demonstrating magic to Umbris. Just like those Mages down below.”

Anton muttered an enchantment on the ring to ward off Strega magic. Umbris warily took the ring back and onto his finger.

“So long as it keeps the headaches away…”

Someone having potentially complete control over your thoughts and actions isn’t a big issue for you?

“Strega Witches don’t operate in the open.” Anton glanced to Cetina. “It’s doubtful you’d know if you met one. We certainly didn’t.”

“Wretched things,” Umbris grumbled. “Strega Witches have long been a thorn in the side of the Graterious Empire and lands across the world. The sooner they are wiped out the better.”

“Any idea where they might be hiding?” Cetina asked.

“None. During my lifetime we’ve only ever caught one. And he killed himself before we could get much out of him.” Umbris laughed. “I don’t know if it’s even in this world or some sort of magical realm, hidden in plain sight.”

Like Ferula’s swamp…

“For all we know it could be through a disused door in the Imperial Palace.”

“Don’t say that.” Cassius weakly smiled. “They’ll start another search if they hear you.”

Cetina stood up, a hand reaching for her empty scabbard. “We have company.”

The servant, now thoroughly regretting being given them to look after, now stood before a small detachment of Graterious soldiers standing behind a young man, wearing Graterian Principle Mage clothes.

“Look like you did gather attention.” Verona shuffled upright. “I don’t think I’ll be much use here.”

“You can use magic too?” Umbris asked. “Wow. Two mages…Of course, three, but three in one place. What’s your speciality?”

The soldiers and mage pushed past the servant with a single swing of their hands.

Verona smirked. “Blood.”

Umbris blinked twice before he began to understand.

“Which individual just used magic within the Imperial Palace grounds?” The Principle Mage asked. His orange robes were unknown to Anton. Not fire…But what could it be?

“I asked him to do it.” Cassius dismissively waved his hand at the mage. “Umbris didn’t believe me and the easiest way is to simply show it. Or do you have a better idea?”

The Principle Mage fumed lightly. “Lord Cassius, you know it is forbidden-”

“Yes. Yes.” Cassius grumbled with genuine annoyance. “I will simply beg the Emperor for forgiveness when I see him. Is that good enough for you?”

“The type of magic used was not Principle Magic…”

Shit. They’re really good.

Cassius shrugged. “And? That in itself is not forbidden. Unlike Bebbezzar and Qaiviel we aren’t bound by their foolish superstition against older styles of magic. Or did you forget the previous Emperor could manipulate the earth without a Charm or any professional teaching?”

“I…” The Principle Mage straightened his clothes. “I have not.”

He looked directly in Anton’s eyes. “If you use your magic again within the Imperial Palace grounds there will be severe consequences.”

The Mages' last words was incredibly forced, like an attempt at intimidation. Anton had no desire to engage in a posturing match with someone with actual authority, playing nice was the safest option.

“I understand.” Anton bowed his head. “I meant no disrespect or wish to waste your time.”

“See?” Cassius raised a brow. “Enough with your idle and empty threats. Don’t you have something to be busy with elsewhere? Or do you actually wish to murder one of the Emperor's guests simply because you have not achieved anything in your service?”

The Principle Mage huffed and walked away, the soldiers right behind. The poor servant stepped from behind a pillar, now extremely apprehensive about anyone approaching their pavilion.

“Is it wise to be so…aggressive to them?” Anton asked. Verona and Cetina agreed. Mezot had remained calm during the entire debacle. Not exactly calm, rather she had been overwhelmed by so many people from positions of power and coupled with her own anxiety she had simply shut down. Perhaps that was for the best.

“I can’t help it.” Cassius sighed loudly. “There is nothing illegal with using your type of magic, I've checked, so they're just full of bluster."

"Piss and wind," Umbris added with a laugh. “Piss and wind. That’s all they are.”

"But we tolerate the petty actions of those far beneath us. Especially when there is a much larger game afoot.”

“What’s an orange mage?” Verona asked Mezot.

Mezot didn’t respond. Anton bumped her side, bringing her back to reality and repeated the question.

“An orange robe?" Mezot almost sounded excited to be speaking about magic again, the reality of her current circumstances quickly dampened her jubilation. "I think he might have been a Fire Mage that knows Wind Magic as well." Mezot frowned. "The colour of the robes doesn't always have to be right. I've known Earth Mages to wear red or blue. So I don't know."

"A clever way to trick your foes," Anton said, Mezot frowned lightly. "Trick them into thinking they're fighting something they're not. Or that there are many more than there actually are. It's not too difficult to get someone to wear a robe and hold a stick."

"It's not a stick." Mezot's voice was like ice. "It a Charm, one of our most important possessions. It is not a stick."

Everyone fell quiet as Mezot continued to stare at Anton. He guessed it had something to do with her former husband, an insult perhaps, but it was still very surprising to see her face filled with a silent rage.

"I'm sorry that I called it a stick," Anton said. "When it is obviously a staff."

Mezot's face softened. Slowly she realised what she had said and done. Before she could utter a word another servant approached theirs, red-faced and puffing loudly. Their shoulder’s dropped in relief. It was time to go.