“Easy now.” I said, holding up my hands. “No need to do anything rash.”

The footman cocked his head. “Like I said sirrah, as long as you do not resist you will not be harmed.”

The gaping muzzle of the musket was really quite large as I looked at it, and I suddenly felt a lot less sure of myself.

“Okay. Okay, I’ll be cool.”

“Excellent. Please come in sirrah.”

Stepping to the side, the footman invited me in, making sure I walked in front of him.

They’re not supposed to have guns!

That thought kept running through my mind as I was directed throughout the manor. We paused at one moment, the footman turning to talk quietly with another servant that I couldn’t quite pay my full attention to, what with the massive gun pointed at me.

They never had any guns in the stories and movies, and I had been so worried about accidentally introducing modern ideas to this world, I had never really stopped to consider if they had made any advancements themselves.

My shield could handle a low-powered magical attack from Ahn’Khareen, and I was almost certain that it could protect against an arrow or a sword attack. I had no idea how it would deal with a bullet, even one from a musket as opposed to a modern gun.

I was suddenly a lot less confident in my chances of escaping from the village if things turned bad.

While I was still processing the rather jarring idea that this world had apparently moved on in the timeline, the footman been walking me through the house.

I hadn’t really been expecting anything, but what I encountered did not fit with what I thought medieval houses would look like. Of course, now I was rapidly changing my concept of what time we were in, less medieval and more colonial. The floors were a nice dark wood, covered with plush carpets of all different sizes and colors, magnificently woven with woodland scenes and lumberjacks.

The walls were just as wonderful, made from a lighter wood than the floor, but carved with beautiful reliefs of deer, bears, and other animals. Around the reliefs there was a dark green wallpaper that almost seemed to absorb the light from mirror backed candles placed at regular intervals along the walls. It took me a second to realize why, the mirrors were just highly polished sheets of metal, but they reflected the light back into the room, making it surprisingly bright.

The waiting room I had been directed into was decently large, with an unlit fireplace, and four very nice padded armchairs positioned around the room. The footman looked at me and nodded at one of the chairs.

“Feel free to sit sirrah, it may be some moments before the Lord Esmaraldis may be able to meet with you.”

“What about my robes?”

They were filthy, covered with sweat and dirt from my exertions today, and the footman looked me up and down with only a little disgust.

“I appreciate your concern for the furniture, but the servants will ensure that they are cleaned later.”

Reluctantly I saw, wincing as if I could feel the nice cloth being dirtied, and - Oh my god.

The seats felt magnificent. They toed the line of being too plush, but somehow managed to stay firm enough where I wouldn’t feel drowned in fabric. I almost didn’t care for anything else at the moment, this was the most comfortable I had been in three months.

“What about Penelope?” I said, reluctantly dragging myself out of the seat of luxury.

The footman frowned. “The Lady Esmaraldis,“ He stressed. “Is waiting in the parlor. I have already sent a runner to fetch the local cleric, who should be able to tend to her wounds.”

“How long do you think it will be?”

“Several minutes at least. It is not a terribly long way to the church, but Cleric Arasta will have to gather his materials. His lordship will also likely not meet with you until he is assured that his daughter is safe.”

“And you’ll be here the whole time?”

“The whole time.” The footman assured, holding his musket comfortably.

“Can I at least get your name?”

“Karsil.”

“So, it’s going to be a while?”

Karsil cocked an eyebrow. “Indeed. Is that a problem?”

Frowning at the expression of aristocratic superiority half-veiled on his face, I purposefully slouched down a little more in the chair.

If it’s going to be a few minutes, I thought. I might as well take advantage of the situation.

Closing my mind, I ran through my breathing exercises, calming myself down. Then, blocking out my senses like Ahn’Khareen had taught me, I extended my consciousness down one of the two thin lines of magic that stretched back towards the forest, towards my home, and more importantly towards Wilbur.

Opening myself up to the mana around me, the crackling energy filled my veins and my consciousness, spiderwebbing from one nerve cell to another like lightning. I concentrated that lightning and sent it down the path of my consciousness.

I opened my eyes, looking around my room back in Ahn’Khareen’s home, and experienced the greatest feeling of vertigo I had ever had. The room was massive, with every piece of furniture hundreds of times larger than the last time I had seen them. Of course, Wilbur was much smaller than I was.

Ahn’Khareen had explained once, after I had created Wilbur, that it was possible for a necromancer to personally control their creation. It was difficult for most mages because it required a lot of mana to pull off, to essentially play a first-person video game with the undead creature. Thankfully in this circumstance, I was not most mages, and I had the mana to spare.

Of course, I had already spent a lot of my mana just in getting Penelope to safety, and despite being in a rat’s body I could feel a migraine starting to form. I would have to do this fast if I wanted to avoid any more serious consequences.

It took some long seconds to pull together the college, but I threw myself - in Wilbur’s body - off the side table. Wilbur had done it dozens of times before, but it was a lot scarier when I was in the driver’s seat. The shock of the landing was almost physical, as if it was my own body landing on the ground.

Still the little guy made it to the floor in one piece and I had him scuttle his way throughout the lair, looking for Ahn’Khareen. After what felt like an hour of running through massive corridors, I finally found her in the throne room, sitting on her throne of bone with a black staff next to her that seemed to suck up the light around it.

Emerald green eyes turned to stare down at me, and Ahn’Khareen cocked her head.

“Is that you, my apprentice?”

I bobbed Wilbur’s head.

“Come here, little one.”

She bent down and extended a skeletal hand, which I had Wilbur run up. She placed him/me on her lap, and gently patted his/my head with a finger. It was the strangest sensation; I could almost feel her petting my own head. That wasn’t supposed to be possible, for feelings of touch to be transmitted back through the spell, but I chalked it up to the weird intelligence that Wilbur seemed to have and my own stronger-than-normal to him.

“I am guessing by your presence here you are not in immediate danger. Else you would not have the time to concentrate on this spell.”

I nodded again.

“That is good news. I saw that you were in the custody of several of the locals, and I was somewhat worried.”

She didn’t sound worried, instead she was talking as if we were discussing the weather. Worse, since we had never actually talked about the weather before.

“Do you need me to come to your aid?”

I shook Wilbur’s head, and she let out a soft sigh. “Now that is good. I would hate to expose myself to the world once again without being properly prepared. Take care, William Amsel, not to reveal too much. You handled yourself well in your first meeting with the others, but I expect that you may have to explain your magical abilities.”

The little rat under my command nodded, and I wished that I could explain the situation in more detail, but Wilbur’s form was just too limiting.

“But more than that… take care of yourself. As much as I would hate to lose my investment in your abilities, it would be a greater shame if you were to perish.”

It felt like a plank of wood had smacked me upside the head. It almost sounded like Ahn’Khareen had admitted that she cared about me. She had sometimes had a bit of a motherly air about her, but this was the would be the first time she had actually said something like this directly.

Before I could explore that any further, the migraine that had been lurking in the back of my mind finally struck, and two ice picks of pain stabbed themselves into my temples. The pain was so intense that my concentration shattered like a window into thousands of pieces. My connection with Wilbur dropped immediately, and I was suddenly aware of my own body again, aching, and tired in a ridiculously posh chair.

Within a few seconds of coming back to myself, I surrendered to the inevitable and passed out.

--##--

Ahn’Khareen liked ambushes. More specifically, I think she got a sick sense of pleasure in making sure somebody, namely me, was in the most vulnerable position before testing them. That meant on several occasions she had us engage in combat practice right as I was waking up, or even when I was sleeping. As such, I had learned how to sleep rather lightly as a defense mechanism against being attacked.

Thus, I was already awake when Karsil the footman came to stand over me.

“I’m up.” I grumbled, trying to ignore the migraine that was still burning my head.

“Of course.” Karsil said smoothly, and I eyed him cautiously.

He still had his musket handy, not pointing it directly at me but in my general direction.

“How long has it been?”

“About twenty minutes now sirrah.”

I looked around for a clock but couldn’t find one. I didn’t think there would be a wall mounted one, but if these people had guns, they might have a grandfather clock. Honestly, I had no idea what anything in this world looked like anymore.

“And how is Pene- Lady Penelope?”

Karsil inclined his head in a fractional nod of recognition. “She is doing well. The cleric has seen her, and while she did hurt her head it was fortunately only a minor wound. With sufficient herbs and rest, she shall be fine.”

I breathed out a sigh of relief. I still didn’t know the woman very well, but she had been kind to me.

“Your concern for the young lady does you credit, sirrah.”

“She’s…” Penelope wasn’t exactly my friend; I hadn’t spent enough time with her for that. “She’s a nice woman. I don’t want to see her be hurt.”

“The young Lady Penelope is the flower of the valley.” Karsil nodded a little deeper this time. “If anything was to happen to her, the full wrath of the village would come down on whomever was responsible.”

I could read the warning in his words and his tone. If I was telling the truth about what had happened, I would probably be fine, but if I had lied and had been the one to hurt Penelope…

“So, what happens now?”

“Now sirrah, you shall meet with the Lord Esmaraldis, and after hearing your story he shall pass judgement.”

Taking a deep breath, I nodded. I didn’t have anything to worry about, I had only been telling the truth. Well, most of the truth anyways.

Karsil gestured at one of the doors out of the room, and I nodded at him before opening it. The room next door came into view, and I was amazed at the beauty of the house once again. The closest word I could think of was “cozy,” there was a rich carpet on the floor, more wood paneled walls, and an elegant chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Fine chairs were placed around a round table in the center, with small couches placed against the walls. Heavy velvet drapes were pulled aside from windows, which let in a pleasant amount of natural light into the room.

The man sitting in one of those chairs, however, was not nearly so cozy to look at. His face looked like it had been carved from stone, and deep lines etched his forehead and the corners of his eyes. His hair, once either blond or red like his daughter’s, was now silver and receding from his forehead. Brown eyes were like hardened amber however and assured me that his mind was just as sharp as his cheekbones.

He was also clad in a similar way to the footman, although in much more restrained colors. Grey stockings covered his lower legs, while his breeches were a rich brown that matched his coat. His vest was green with elegant yellow embroidery, and I beginning to get the picture that green and yellow were probably his family’s colors. A gold tree was embroidered onto his brown coat, and he idly wiped his hands on a handkerchief as we walked in.

“So, this is the mysterious vagabond I have been told of.” The man, Lord Esmaraldis, said, turning to look me up and down.

“Yes, My Lord.” Karsil responded for me. “He claims his name is William Amsel, and that he lives in your forests.”

The amber eyes hardened even further. “You know sirrah that those lands are mine, and by admitting that you have been living in the forest means that you have admitted to breaking the law?”

“I didn’t know that when I settled down there.” I said honestly.

“Ignorance of the law is not a valid excuse for breaking it. If that were the case, then any simpleton who doesn’t have the ability to read would be untouchable.”

I took a deep breath in to protest, but he cut me off with a flat slash of his hand.

“I do not care for your reasons nor your excuses at this moment. What I am interested in at this moment is the series of events that led my beloved daughter to being wounded, with a mysterious stranger carrying her to safety?”

I wondered how much I should tell him. Obviously, I wouldn’t tell him anything that would get me hanged, but if he wasn’t satisfied with my answers I might get hanged anyways. Operating under the assumption that if I told him mostly the truth, I took a deep breath in.

“It began when I was bathing…”

--##--

“And then I saw her being attacked, so I stepped in to help her. As simple as that.” I finished my story and shrugged.

Lord Esmaraldis hummed quietly to himself in thought. “So, a naturalist living in the woods manages to fight off several goblins?”

“I… well, I caught them by surprise.”

“You caught them by surprise.” Lord Esmaraldis didn’t sound very impressed.

“I had to do something.”

“Indeed.” He said quietly. “Karsil?”

I head a rustle and a heavy click behind me, and I acted without thinking. I summoned a shield directly on my back, and just in time. A heavy coughing bark echoed through the small room, and I clapped my hands over my ears at the noise as Karsil’s musket fired.

My Shield spell did its job, and the musket ball careened off the hard invisible surface to bury itself in one of the wooden walls. The force of the blow was enough to shatter the shield however and combined with my already exhausted mana supply I dropped to the ground; my legs unable to support my weight.

“What the hell!” I yelled, bringing my hand up towards Karsil to cast a Force Bolt, but hesitated.

I had killed several goblins just earlier today. I had barely even thought about it since then, but I had consciously taken the lives of at least three living beings. But they had been goblins and had been about to kill Penelope. Could I take the life of an actual human?

Thankfully, I was spared the difficulty of having to deal with the consequences of that kind of decision, as my migraine flared again, and the spell matrix I was holding in my mind’s eye shattered as I lost focus.

“Hold!” Lord Esmaraldis shouted, and I looked to the older man with fire in my eyes.

He was standing now, his amber eyes frightfully intent as he stared down at me in triumph.

“Do not take your fury out on Karsil.” Esmaraldis continued. “He was only doing as I instructed.”

“Why the hell would you tell him to shoot me?” I snarled.

“I had to test whether my suspicions were true. You are, in fact, a mage.”

“What gives you the right to try and shoot me? You could have just asked!”

“I am the lord of these lands. That is my right. And would you really have told me if I had asked? As simply as that?”

I simmered with restrained rage, but also grudgingly recognized that he did have a point. After all, wasn’t I the one who had been reluctant to tell any of these people about my magic?

“My point exactly. Can you stand, or do you need assistance?”

I waved off Karsil’s hand and managed to grab the edge of the table and drag myself to my feet.

“And what if I hadn’t been a mage? Or had been too slow?” I said, glaring at the both of them.

“Then a vagabond who had admitted in front of witnesses that he had been illegally living in a Lord’s forest would be dead. It is perfectly within my rights to execute criminals as I see fit, after all. I also would have ruined my clothes, which would have been the bigger shame.”

My rage was starting to calm down, but it was being replaced with a growing sense of dread. I licked my lips nervously and put words to my next thoughts.

“If that is the case, then why haven’t you killed me already?”

Lord Esmaraldis rolled his eyes, leaning forwards in his chair. “Because despite your crimes, and I do see your presence in my woods as a crime, I must grudgingly admit that you have saved my daughter’s life. Yeoman Richard showed me the arrow you gave to him, and I’ve seen enough of the goblin’s arrows to identify whether one is fake or not. That one was, unfortunately, not a fake at all.”

“So, am I free to go?”

“Not quite. First you must answer a few more questions.”

I sighed, but for the first time in the conversation Lord Esmaraldis indicated that I could finally sit in one of the chairs. I practically melted into the chair, despite the lord’s look of brief disgust at my apparent lack of decorum.

“Most importantly,” He continued. “Are you a registered mage?”

I froze, and it was obvious enough to serve as my answer. A grin spread over the lord’s face, perhaps the first one I had seen during the entire conversation.

“Well now, it looks like the gods do give gifts after all. An unregistered mage, living illegally in my forests. You know, according to the law I am technically required to send a message to Royal Cabal of Somaris, and they would send a team of Reclaimers to bring you back to the tower? I hear the punishment for unregistered magic is quite high.”

There had been a miscommunication here, I realized. Lord Esmaraldis believed that my nervousness was because I apparently wasn’t registered with this “Royal Cabal,” and that he would send the authorities after me. In reality, I was nervous because I hadn’t realized there was such a thing as a registry for mages.

There was still so much that I just simply didn’t know about this world and the country I was in, and it seemed the more time I spent in it, the more dangerous it was becoming.

But my brain caught onto some of the specific wording that he had used, and my brow furrowed in thought.

“According to the law,” I began. “You would be required to do that. Technically.”

Lord Esmaraldis’ grin turned positively shark-like. “Technically. However, I do recognize that there are several extenuating circumstances. Bandits on the roads. Goblins in the forests. A courier can easily be waylaid on their way to deliver a message, and it might never be delivered. And there a great many things I can think of that a mage might be handy to have around, especially one that isn’t beholden to the Cabal.”

“So, if I help you with what you need, you won’t rat me out?” I said, not liking how the situation had developed.

“Something like that. Besides, you did save my daughter after all. I have not forgotten about that. If things had turned out differently, that fact might have gotten you a head start. But if you’re smart about this…”

He trailed off, allowing me to finish putting the pieces together. I closed my eyes, running through an abbreviated version of my breathing exercises. This time however I wasn’t doing it to stop my anxiety, instead I was trying to hold back on my rage that had come back in full force.

This whole situation stank, and Lord Esmaraldis’ attitude was somehow managing to get under my skin more than most other people I had met. Talking with Penelope had been pleasant enough, and while she could act superior at times, she seemed genuinely kind. This Lord Esmaraldis however, there was something about him that just triggered something deep and ugly inside me.

The longer I focused on my breathing and tried to cool down however, the clearer the situation became. He could have reported me to the authorities, and he from what he was saying if I played ball, he wouldn’t do that. It still wasn’t pretty, and I very much didn’t like it, but if I didn’t get hurt and Ahn’Khareen didn’t go on a rampage or be found out by the locals…

“I suppose.” I said slowly, reluctantly. “That I can find it in my heart to help out this lovely town as much as I can.”

“That,” Lord Esmaraldis showed his toothy smile one more time, and another flash of resentment shot through my heart. “Was exactly the answer I was looking for.”