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Wizard's Tower - Arc 3 - Chapter 13
🕑 Added 2021-09-14 16:30:59 +0000 UTCThe tables were laden with all sorts of delectable treats that I hadn’t seen since I moved from Sena City. I directed the servant stationed there to load my platter with such joys as boiled Birktoni snails, candied yams, and fried clams fished from Laxton Bay. The aromas mixed together in a way that made my mouth water, and each was presented in such a fashion as if the cook were not just making food but art.
I also had four different rare vintages to choose from, each with its own merits and pairings. A very astute servant had appeared at my side, and her sole purpose was simply to hold a plate with my four wine glasses for me.
I stood not far from the tables as I ate, and it was as I slurped on my third snail that some of the nobility began to approach me. First were two gentlemen, aldermen or poorer barons by their clothing, that stood nearby speaking of the ongoings in their lands. A harmless conversation, but one I could tell felt forced as they positioned themselves to include me at a moment’s notice.
“…this sheep followed his wife to their neighbor’s house, it for some reason decided to stay there. Both families were clear that it wasn’t theft.
Yet the owner of the calf demanded restitution. Claimed the animal had betrayed him. The other farmer said it wasn’t his fault the sheep liked him better, and that it should be allowed to stay if he wanted.” One of the men spoke in an aminated fashion.
“So, to which side did you judge?” the other asked, though it was clear he lacked any real interest.
“Well, I put the calf on trial and declared it a traitor. Had it served for supper, and compensated the first for his loss,” the noblemen said with a loud laugh.
I lost any interest and picked at the clams. I couldn’t help but hope they had been transported live, as the batter they were fried in prevented me from determining if the clam itself might have been spoiled.
“Wizard Fargus?”
The young woman’s voice attracted my attention, and I looked up to see a young lady of maybe sixteen with the lighter skin tones and facial features more often seen among the Mirktallean.
She had delicate skin and long dark hair with blue eyes. Certainly, many others would find it attractive.
“I have a very particular issue, and I was wondering if you might be willing to help me resolve it,” she said and bit her lip. While she appeared slightly nervous, I doubted it was more than an act.
I gestured at her with a piece of crawfish I had speared with a fork, “Go on.”
“I am Lady Bushwah, Calleri Bushwah. My father was a baron before he… passed. Count Lahal now administers our lands until I marry,” She began and stopped to look at me as if I should know about what she spoke of. When I didn’t do more than continue to look at her and wait, she continued.
“However, I find myself in a difficult place. I cannot marry, for I find myself with a rare and unusual affliction,” she spoke as she moved closer, her voice growing to a whisper.
I had already discounted her a potential assassin, so her moving closer hadn’t bothered me. I also carried in my bag a wand of [Cure Disease], so any affliction would be easy enough to resolve. Yet, any priest could also cast the spell, so there was no needed to seek me out for that. I curse or a hex, maybe, but I would need the details to be able to resolve it. “An affliction, you say?”
She leaned in even closer and stood on her toes so that her cupped hand would be closer to my ear. Her words were whispered now, as though giving the world’s greatest secret, “Yes, Lord Wizard, I find myself attracted to other maidens, more so than gentlemen.
In fact, I hold no place in my heart for any man other than my father. It makes courting them ever so difficult. As I am, I could never find happiness in romance with a man. Do you think that your magic could help me?”
I sighed. Certainly, there were humans of one gender that only felt romantic emotions to that same gender. I had even captured one once to test if there were a magical reason for the occurrence. Once I found there wasn’t, I further examined the anatomy to see if there were an extra organ or such, but found none either. After that, I lost all interest. It wasn’t the most unusual of human proclivities, and without a magical cause, it wasn’t for me to study.
Yet, her question did lead to an interesting idea. I handed my platter to a nearby servant to hold and withdrew a tome I used to track my various ideas for future spellworks. With a pen I had magicked to hold ink, I scribbled furiously. I didn’t want to forget the idea when the next noble-born idiot came to take up my time.
There existed a curse that would cause everything a person ate to taste like ash. It was a second-tier spell that I had remade from a witch’s hex. Even though I didn’t know the reasoning, that it existed at all proved there may be a way to cast a spell that alters the very perception of the people around me. If I developed such a spell, then I could possibly rid the world of carrots. I never understood how others could enjoy eating those things.
When I finished writing, I took back my platter and saw the lady still awaited an answer from me. I gave her a look I hoped contained sympathy and answered, “I’m sorry, my dear, but marriage isn’t about romance and happiness.”
“You will do nothing?”
“There is nothing I can do and no magical solution can change who you are.”
Her previous demeanor of pleasantry disappeared in an instant and her face clouded with scorn. She hissed her words at me, “You are only an alderman, I could order you to do so.”
I used my fork to spear another bit of crawfish and then gestured at her with it, “And you, young lady, I could turn into a fish in a blink of your eye.”
Her eyes widened, and without a good response, she turned around abruptly to walk away. Certainly, it was a threat I wouldn’t have kept. A fish would suffocate quickly on land. A squirrel would be too difficult to catch without using a subsequent sleeping spell. No, if I changed to her anything, it would have been a sheep. I hadn’t yet had the opportunity to see if a sheep’s brain could hold a human’s mind, and that would be interesting to learn.
The irony of telling the young lady that there was no magical way to change who she was and then threatening to turn her into a fish was not lost on me. I did wait a few good moments to chortle about it before I resumed my meal. Or tried to.
Over the next few hours, I was approached by many nobles. Sometimes alone and sometimes in groups. While I had feared they would try to bring similar concerns as that young woman did, that didn’t turn out to be the case. Instead, they offered me thanks for my part in the battle and inquired as to the cost of raising their towns and villages onto plateaus.
I negotiated some, but not with any real emotion. I had already planned to raise towns and villages throughout Sena to save who I could from the threat of the pestilence. That the nobility offered me payment for my services was only proper, of course, but I would not deny any who could not afford it.
It was only after I had finished my meal, that a servant came to touch my arm, “The duchess would like a word with you Wizard Fargus.”
I raised an eyebrow in response.
“This way, if you please,” he said with a bow.
Soon we were weaving in and around guests towards the doorway the duchess had made her entrance from a few hours ago. As we approached, the door opened and Baron Froom came out of the room.
“Nemon,” he said with a nod as we walked back into the ball.
“Alred,” I answered him with the same nod. The servant stopped outside the heavy oaken door and nodded three times on it before opening it for me. As I entered, I saw a sitting room that had been prepared away from the noise and activity of the ball. A light blue plaster and several ornate tapestries were on the walls. A plush red carpet covered the floor. Several fine chairs were placed around a low table, but I could see the indentations left on the carpet where a couch used to sit.
The table had a tea set prepared, and in one chair sat Duchess Eiston in all her glory. The woman looked much better without tearstains on her face, and the golden-colored gown she wore complimented her face. Several guards stood at attention along the walls, but none of these things were what drew my eyes. Rather, my focus was instantly on the man sitting in a chair opposite of the duchess.
His dark skin tones, shaved head, and clothing made from large, flat leaves immediately gave him away as Tervan.
When he saw me and his eyes grew wide and his face panicked, it revealed the teeth filed to sharp points. The sign of a Tervan Bloodmage.
“The—the Harbinger!
You brought this villain here!” He hissed in a terror. His chair fell backward to the ground as leaped from his seat to flee.
Comments
Baby sheep is a lamb, not a calf.
Knocked three time (not nodded three times)
