The wind blew from the sea and brought the smell of salt to Ehrir’s nose. Who could’ve thought that three weeks would pass so fast? The weather had already gotten colder and the once clear skies above Nalevas were now turned into a mosaic of steel-grey clouds and patches of blue. And the Undone One could finally go around the city’s streets without constantly sweating. There were fewer ships in the harbor now, as the approaching winter turned the captains’ attention to the southern shores. There was another sharp contrast in the vessels filling the bay, though. Most of them bore the Ashen Gaze’s symbol now.

Through the last weeks Ostrias had contacted his servants and subordinates and now the bigger part of them had already arrived on the archipelago. They were a remarkable bunch of people both in personal traits and appearance. Each of them brought at least one or two disciples, but some had ten or even more. The mansion’s rooms were occupied quickly and most of the arriving people had to sleep in the city’s inns. Ale Bay was turned into a huge gathering of sorcerers of all ages, nations and levels of talent. All of these dozens and dozens of people served the Ashen Gaze and this just reinforced the strong feeling of astonishment towards Ostrias that Ehrir had from the moment he met him.

The mage from the Inner Fantasy planned to lead all of his servants with him to the south, but to contact and get moving was quite slow and heavy task. Almost a month had passed and roughly a quarter (according to Ostrias) of his people still hadn’t even reached the Archipelago of Claws. And as every hour passed everyone’s patience ran lower and lower. The idea to leave someone behind waiting for the wizards still travelling towards Nalevas was getting more popular lately. Ehrir was supporting it himself, but the opinion of a mere sorcerer’s apprentice didn’t really matter.

The Undone One was currently standing on the seaside alley of the harbor and looking at the newest subordinate of Ostrias that was just arriving. It was an elderly man in a snow-white robe. “Nothing too interesting”, thought Ehrir. The amount of weird-looking people that he saw over the last couple of week was simply too great for him to be amazed at this old man, even with the immense amounts of warmth and power he could sense from him. He was only traversing these parts of town because the mansion became a giant swarm of people, full of too much noise and movement for a sane person.

Ehrir had spent most of the previous weeks engulfed in studies about the nature of magic. He also trained his abilities and managed to better them by a bit, although the best thing he could outside of Manipulation was a flame not much bigger than his fist. It was still enough of a progress, just too insignificant for anyone else besides the old man, Nalia and her brother. It was still something, though.

When it came to his Manipulation… Well, that was quite a different topic. His progression was fast and easy and everything in that field of study came naturally. He was still far from turning things into precious metals or passing the barrier that restricted him from transforming soft materials into hard ones, but his speed and the sheer size of the things that he was able to grew significantly. He had spent a considerable amount of time studying Emhaelic and was finally able to grasp some of the texts stored in the massive library of both old and new tomes in Ostrias’ manor. Because of his talents he focused mainly on alchemy and other branches of Manipulation. And there were a lot of them. Things like changing one’s own flesh, quickly transforming ordinary items into high-quality weapons or using the surroundings to defend or protect oneself were all in their separate categories, along with at least a dozen others. It was both fascinating and complex.

With a quick shrug of his shoulders the Undone One fended off the swarm of thoughts in his head and sharply inhaled. Time for lunch was quickly approaching and he didn't have even a single copper coin in his pockets. He had to return to the manor. Walking to there was a troublesome thing - since the gathering of mages began every subordinate of the Ashen Gaze had to wear his symbol as a patch on his or her clothing. Ehrir had it upon his coat and it was easily visible. That made going through the streets a task full of gasps and whispers from the commoners and useless greetings from fellow mages and disciples. The Undone One still felt contempt towards them - his hatred for sorcerers couldn't fade away for mere three weeks. The few good ones that he got to know weren't able to make this mix of hatred, disgust and fear simply go away.

The mansion itself was completely different from its calm and quiet self that Ehrir saw in the beginning of his stay there. The meadows and open spaces in the gardens were occupied by the tents of feral wizards, shamans, “stargazers” and other weird mages. The number of guards was tripled and yet they couldn't keep an eye on all of the non-stop movement going on in and around the building.

The fact that a simple apprentice such as Ehrir could keep living in the mansion was surprising to most of Ostrias’ subordinates. All except the strongest among the Undone One’s equals had moved to Nalevas’ inns, Nalia and Varhel included. All of the building’s rooms were currently occupied by mages of at least Sevrian’s level of capabilities. Nobody but a handful of people knew the real reason behind Ehrir’s stay.

After the Clairvoyance the Ashen Gaze started putting his attention on him and the ancient mage’s opinion of him quickly grew. Ostrias also held a few sessions of Clairvoyance with him, but they were in vain, as all the memories of Farnaraen left in the Undone One’s mind (except those already revealed) were too vague and short to be made sense of. It was a disappointment, but the old mage was happy with that already seen by him so he stopped doing the rituals. Still, he kept Ehrir by his side, just in case.

However, during most of the time the Undone One was free to do as he pleased, although the bigger chunk of his days was still spent in the library or with Sevrian. But now his master was nowhere to be seen. On the other hand, the chance to read or practice in the filled with ghostly-looking old people athenaeum didn’t sound very enjoyable. He could always stay in his room, of course, but that could be more than just boring. The place was cozy, but not interesting in any way.

Well, it was going to be an uneventful afternoon…

“Hey, you! Are you Ehrir, master Sevrian’s apprentice?” a voice suddenly rang from the opposite side of the hall where the Undone One was standing.

***

The lunches and breakfasts at the mansion were far less massive in scope compared to the grandiose dinners held almost every evening. The chandeliers weren't lit and sunrays flooded the main hall with subtle light. The big table wasn't covered in food, however. Instead those who came were served right away according to their own liking. There wasn't an exact time for lunch or breakfast so it was crowded only at noon. Sadly, noon was now. Even so, there was only one man besides Ehrir - middle-aged and black-haired, with sharp facial features, greenish blue eyes and a short, well-shaped beard in addition. His appetite was astonishing and he was already on his third plate of beef with potatoes.

“So, that mercenary… Oros, was it? He told you about me?” Ehrir wasn’t merciful to the food before him, too, and was munching on a piece of pork stew.

“Yeah… He mentioned you must be pretty important for master Ostrias”, answered the man with mouth half-full of meat. He had taken him here and started a very friendly chat while offering him good things to eat. His name was Lantor and he introduced himself as the son of one of the mages residing in the manor. He was of the same power as Ehrir, but the position of his father made him a full-on independent sorcerer. Well, independent was quite a bold term when all of the magicians here served under one particular man.

“Important is… probably not the right word. However, why did you seek me out? It’s probably not just because I’m… important.”

“You are right. See, it’s really not my right to ask you this… But I heard you are good with Manipulation. And it took a damned long time to hear that! I had just a name and the idea you are important… Eh, all of this doesn’t matter. Look…” Lantor exhaled, “I’m looking for someone like you. The reason is simple: I want to create a weapon.”

Ehrir threw a confused glance at the man.

“A weapon? But I’m not so good with Manipulation to create usable swords or axes or…”

“No, no, I don’t mean this! I have the weapon already. But I want to imbue it with a passive Destruction magic… Basically I want to make a flaming sword, more or less. However, the normal metals won’t allow for magic to stay in them. Your Manipulation… it may change this without me having to sell my soul for a bit of riantum. I don’t exactly know how to make steel or iron magically durable, but you should be able to. Somehow. And after that we can repeat the process with a weapon of your choice and then you can have it… The result can be pretty deadly, to say the least. You’ll be glad to have such a thing in your arsenal. So… are you up for it?”

Ehrir sank in thought immediately. There really weren’t any disadvantages about this deal. And he still remembered the fight against the pirates and the situation with the three bandits back in Borhael. His Changing was not nearly enough to protect him properly and only the luck (or the will of the gods) spared him from death. He was in need of a weapon and a magical one at that.

But there was another reason. And it was forming deep inside of him, in the black seas of hidden hatred for the Changelings and his own creator. It was a faraway dream. Pretty much absurd and childish, but it was still a dream…

After all, how could he kill Farnaraen without a proper blade in his hands?