Sylvar ordered the gaurds to find out who had been in the kings room. Every single person had to be rounded up and accounted for. He called on an inquisitor to interview every single one of them. Inquisitors could pull the truth from any mind in painful ways. Inquisitors were the most feared among the realm and were often recruited to courts right across the world. It didn't matter what race they were. They had a special power to look inside your mind and, depending on how strong their power was, could make you see and feel dreadful things. Usually the mere threat of one was enough to cause any citizen to confess to just about anything.

After pacing his room for hours late into the night, Adam finally lay down on his bed. His eyes lifted to the note on his bedside table and he reached out to take it, reading it for the hundredth time. How was he supposed to communicate with this person? How was he suppose to find out who this was? His face twisted in frustration and he put the note back on his bedside table then rested his arm over his forehead. He sighed. He tried to fall asleep. It was late. He was tired of pacing. Tired of worrying. He just wanted to rest. The thoughts racing through his mind wouldn't let him. He'd been made painfully aware of how weak he was as a human. If his chronicles, his diary fell into the wrong hands he'd end up dead.

His eyes snapped open. He got up, gathered the note and moved to his writing desk. He didn't bother sitting down.

Please tell me who you are. I need to know. Please!

Only then, with no hope of a response, did Adam move back to his bed and collapse. When he fell asleep was unclear. It happened automatically. It had been a difficult day to endure.

The doors were thrown open with a bang and Adam woke up with an unpleasant jerk. At first he thought he was being attacked. The black hoods had finally come for him. They'd invaded the castle but then he heard Sylvar shouting orders. Several servants moved about the room gathering clothing and other artifacts to put into large chests and carry bags. Adam sat up, confused, still in the clothes he wore the day before. He was due a shower and a shave.

"What's going on?" He asked in a sleepy voice.

"Get up. We're moving you to a more secure location." Sylvar flitted about the room, pulling open the heavy curtains and ordering servants to do this and that.

"What? Why?" Adam looked about the room at the hub of activity. He wasn't in the mood for this. He flopped back down squinting at the note.

"Get dressed, showered and fed and then we go." Sylvar ordered. He narrowed his eyes. One line. Two lines... Adam gasped and scrambled up then rushed to his desk. A third line. He stared down at the small neat writing. But how was this possible. There was gaurds stationed around him at all times. He took up the piece of paper and read the response.

I am the one who knows. Do you want to know?

Adam slowly grabbed his quill.

"We don't have time for that. Shower Adam! Shower!" He ignored his councelor and began writing.

Yes, but

That was all he could get out before two arms wrapped around his shoulders pulling him from his writing desk and turning him to the bathroom. The first humans were to thank for running water. They'd brought it to this world. They had invented another thing that improved the lives of thousands of people. The weak and fragile gods. Adam had no time to be grateful and think about his family. His mind was occupied by his secret penpal.