The walls of the spiral staircases were carved with illustrious scenes from the life of the Guild's founder, as Jerius followed Mirayoung up to the second highest floor of the tower. One showed him standing atop a cliff summoning spells that shaped the storm and sea. Another saw him overseeing the construction of the Guild's concentric walls as he was surrounded by other figures whom Jerius guessed to be mages who followed him.

Before the final flight of stairs, Mirayoung made an abrupt turn to the right through a door into the working room of the administration branch. Jerius always had the impression that in every other nation, city, hamlet and village, there would be a group of invisible and hardworking crews toiling in a compact, cluttered workspace to run the operations. And the people in the room Jerius walked into fit the mold to a tee.

Jerius counted ten people. Within they were speaking to each other in raised, hurried voices as one or two scrambled about, parchments in hand. In the middle was a long ebony table where more parchments and scrolls were placed, and enchanted stamps and pens danced over. From the magical scents on them, Jerius could make up more than two manipulators among the ten.

He could also pick up bits and pieces of the conversations.

"Has Eqia paid for the assignment we did for them? Aleria, the Master of Curse, is hounding us for her share of the gold for helping to break the difficult Curse of the Northern Ice. Six months' wait is six months too long."

"I will put in the chaser mail that it's impertinent that they learn how close Princess Lilea was to death from the curse."

"Send Ecia down. We can also threaten to stop work on Northern Shield if the promised gold doesn't reach us by the week's end. "

"Clever. Their fear of the Northern Barbarians will make them cough out the requisite gold by sundown. They did want the defences to be ready before the barbarians choose a new Alpha to lead the pack."

"For Elaria's sake, can someone manage that bratty lord of Tahoa‒damn it‒what was his name again? He's waiting again at the western gate and Gallyn is asking if we should send him to the inner sanctum as per the usual dictation."

"That buffoon is here to propose. Propose, of all things? Can you believe that?"

"Who's the luckless one this time? By Fermand's order, no lady-mages are to take up that assignment."

"He's persistent about the wrong things."

"We had another Treaty of Sefa's violation. A rogue mage among some brigands self-destructed with a fourth-rank spell, killing everyone in his group."

"Well, at least he would no longer pose any trouble to us like the last incident."

"Shush!" The red-haired man from Mirayoung's scrying silenced them as he saw Mirayoung and Jerius by the door looking in; the archmagus had a slight smile on her face, amused by how far the conversations went without realising their presence. They both did keep their magical presence low and hard to notice.

Mirayoung said, "Kas, good to meet you again. I see you've a problem with the lordling of Tahoa. Rainme Ulatoris, grandson of Martar Ulatoris, the uncle to King Lamdil of Tahoa. Am I right?"

"Yes indeed. Your sharp memory never fails you, Lady White Rose," he said. "Are you well acquainted with King Lamdil or Lord Martar?"

"Lord Martar," Mirayoung said. "He owes me a particular favour that I can evoke at will. Never had a use of it, but I see reining in his grandson may just cut it."

"How incredibly fortunate we are," Kas said. "He's a difficult man to deal with, and Tahoa is an important customer of the Guild. Fermand repeatedly reminds us to be prudent. Pardon my curiosity. How did you become so well acquainted with him? Was it from the days you did assignments for Tahoa?"

Jerius could see the rest of the people in the room straining a little to listen, obviously piqued by the turn of the conversation.

"Passion runs in his bloodline," Mirayoung said. "He once pursued me for close to a decade before age tempered him. Of little doubt, he's very much out of that lovemaking phase but that favour is still one owed to me."

"We certainly can talk more," Kas said, his eyes glancing over at the rest who hurried with their work.

"See to his grandson but leave this to me," Mirayoung said.

"Shucks! Where are my manners? Pardon me, lady. Come with me, you and your guest," Kas said, waving for the rest to continue their work, albeit at a lower volume. He gestured to them to follow him to the end of the room, where they rounded a corner into a smaller room with two desks and several padded chairs for comfort.

The first thing that attracted Jerius's attention was the brown birthmark on the right side of his face when he turned to face them. It did not look like an ordinary birthmark since it never looked the same whenever Jerius pulled away and glanced at it again.

What made it stranger was it did not appear in Mirayoung's memory as shown in her scrying spell. Perhaps, he thought. She was being nice, erasing that from her memory. It was unlovely most certainly, and he might almost be considered handsome if not for it. Jerius was surprised too that the Guild, much like the outside world, had not had magic that could remove the birthstain and beautify the face. Perhaps there were rules around that, or perhaps the peculiarity of the birthmark meant there was more than met the eye.

"You must be Jerius Lyvia of Nox," said Kas, directing at Jerius. "Disciple to Lady Camellia. It's a pleasure."

The politeness and benign affability surprised him. And he was not just acting the part, unlike other high-ranking personages he met from the other city-nations, or the court conjurors in the Gathering, a yearly event that saw mages from the Cities congregating to discuss worldly and magical affairs. He also expected a more authoritative figure who frowned upon or feared his silly theatrics at Mondeus Village, or a mix of both; instead he received neither and he appreciated that.

"Indeed. The pleasure is mine...Lord Kas," Jerius said.

Kas had a loud hollow laugh that was infectious as Mirayoung shook with mirth too, saying, "I have to apologise I have not taught her well."

It was the first time Jerius heard Mirayoung's laughter, and it was a silvery sound that pleased the ears.

"Nor did Lady Camellia," Kas said. "Only archmagi are called lords and ladies in the Guild. That will suffice." Turning from Jerius to Mirayoung, he said, "Now what brings you here, Lady White Rose?"

Mirayoung began, sharing about the destruction of Nox tying into the Ritual of Keys. She included her own findings when she tapped into the Cabal Network. Kas paused her for a moment, snapping his fingers for the pens at the other desk to sway and twirl over an empty parchment. At this distance, he thought he saw wispy trails indicative of a spirit moving those pens.

Jerius said nothing, deferring to her as the accuracy of her recount and observations had demonstrated a keen awareness of the danger Aderis posed. When she finished, Kas sat back against his padded chair with a grave look on his face. Along with the birthmark and the now-deep wrinkles on his forehead from his frown, he looked like he had aged a decade.

"The Ritual of Keys was one of those possibilities we submitted as our findings to Administrator Fermand and the Cabal when Qosh'rah was destroyed," Kas said. "It was one of the Keys, and its destruction by a plague did seem a little strange. The Cabal themselves reviewed the investigation and identified no anomaly. We concluded on that verdict. The Cabal never errs."

Then the Cabal isn't as powerful as they thought themselves to be, Jerius thought.

"Perhaps given the information we had then, it was the best-drawn conclusion," Mirayoung said. "The destruction of Nox with an exceedingly malicious spell, made possible by a demonic contract, should raise significant concern."

Kas said, his tone changing to one of graveness. "I was going that direction. We didn't find any demonic scent in the initial exploration, led by Ferfin. As per protocol, he did a four-day Quifir expedition around Nox and Bliaton, concluding it as an anomalous war that took the lives of both nations. But demonic involvement or scent? Absolutely zilch."

Quifir stood for discovery in the arcane tongue, describing one of the three explorative methods and the most widely applied of them to be carried out by the Guild's task forces to investigate an anomaly. This method needed mages of four specific specialisations, hailing from the Order of War, Order of Curse, Order of Black Guard and Order of Sensors.

The war-order mage would identify and document signs of battle, war or bloodshed as these were often consequences or by-products of the anomalies. The curse-order mage would scout for curse arrays, artifacts and remnants of curses, as were used or inadvertently created in the aftermath. The black-guard-order mage, unlike his peers from the Order of Demonology or Necromancy, focused more on the defence against the black arts. Mages in this order studied not to understand black arts like demoncraft but to counter them. The sensor-order mage was a constant in any task force, no matter the explorative methods. He would sense for the remainders of any enemies in the region, alerting the task force early for a timely defence or retreat, and also trace for the deaths of any prominent or important figures in the anomaly.

Folding her arms, Mirayoung said. "Ferfin, deputy leader of the Order of War?"

"Semi-archmagus," Kas said, describing him with an unofficial title of those who rode the trajectory of an archmagus but were not quite there yet. "He snubbed out demonic cultists, along with their summoned demons, in a hamlet south of Ohai a year ago. He is very familiar with demons. Some would say...too familiar."

Ferfin looked like a madman. Short and stocky, he had a constant craziness glittering in his brown eyes, and a religious mania for battles that reflected in the many scars over his face and body. While Holz the Warper, the Master of War, shared a similar passion for battles, he was far more charming and fitted the archetype of a battle-mage. But Mirayoung knew him beyond his lunatic facade. Ferfin was a sharp man, with incredible wits and acumen. Even then he was too peculiar for her to fully trust him if such a demand were to come.

"You know what I'm thinking?" Mirayoung said. "This Aderis is a bigger concern than I expected. He might very well have masked the demonic scent long enough to elude the Guild's initial investigation. Demoncraft usually warrants a higher priority and quick responses."

Jerius followed up. "Won't this potentially tie to an insider within the Guild? Someone who knows the modus operandi of the Guild and plans ahead to circumvent that."

The pens above the parchment stopped writing as Kas pondered for a while. He then said, "Let me submit what you shared to Fermand with the highest priority, so she'll go through them before dusk. She has a window of free time tomorrow morning. Let me arrange a meeting with her for you."

⧪⧪⧪

When Mirayoung and Jerius left the tower, the Noxarian mage was pleased with the outcome of the meeting. Despite some earlier hiccups, it had gone smoother than he expected. He made the right judgment, identifying Mirayoung as the lynchpin of his plan. It was Mistress Lyvia after all who preempted that one day I might need help from the Guild in her absence, and that I could seek that from Mirayoung, her oldest friend.

With his immediate concern satisfied, Jerius felt he could indulge in other things that had caught his curiosity, and for which he needed answers. He scratched his chin lightly to emulate a more thoughtful look. "Your memory of Kas didn't have a birthmark."

"I thought you might ask," Mirayoung said, with a self-pleasing tone as if she had anticipated it. "The answer is simple. I can't see the birthmark. No lady can see it. Well, the fact you can see it means you are without a doubt now a man behind those beautiful features."

"You mean to say you doubted?" Jerius said, slightly peeved but then it took on a more mischievous note. "I might have to prove myself that I bear certain physical characteristics not found among those of the fairer sex."

"Now, now it was just an old archmagus' strange jest," Mirayoung said. "Let's not stoop to absurdities, shall we?"

"Well, it was already absurd when my manhood was questioned. Now, was that a curse? That birthmark," Jerius asked, his curiosity steering the conversation again.

"The aftereffect of a poorly wrought ritual by his mother to acquire unnatural beauty but failed, ending up cursing the fetus‒that was him‒in her with that strange birthmark. Just like the beauty she failed to seek would charm only men, the birthmark Kas wore for life would only be seen by men," Mirayoung said. "For all our knowledge and command of magic, morphing the physical body to fit a specific beauty standard is still elusive to us. It sometimes works, but is never ever worth the risk as it can as easily go wrong. This is why the Guild never accepts requests to enhance their physical attractiveness. Aphrodisiacs, pheromone scents and mood enhancers are where we draw the line if they want to be more desirable to others. But if you ask my honest opinion, for the love of Elaria, alcohol is more than enough. A life-changing ritual often has too many aftereffects."

"Indeed," Jerius said, ruminating.

Mirayoung deferred to silence, deciding not to ask. She did not need a lot of guesswork to know the aftereffects of the Maker's Ritual were more than skin-deep, the worst of which Jerius remained tight-lipped around.