I arrived a few days later at the western gate to Sena City. While I may have made an entrance landing before the gates from the air, that was not my intention. The guards in their fanciful armor and orange cloaks were quick to allow me entry after I told them my name. My first stop was at the Scholars’ Delight, an inn that was a refuge for scholars and academics, teachers and mages. With walls lined with bookcases displaying a great volume of random literature in no particular order, it presented a delightful atmosphere I enjoyed. I didn’t have the opportunity to spend much time enjoying that during my last stay, so I checked into the inn early, and sent a messenger to the king’s court to let them know I had arrived and would be available to be presented tomorrow or the day after. After a decent meal of mushroom cakes and lager, I perused the different tomes and scrolls shelved throughout the inn. While a guest could take and read any book during their stay, there was an unspoken rule that any who took one to keep should replace it with another. It was a good rule that was surprisingly well adhered to. So, I took advantage of it, to choose six different tomes that sounded interesting to me. A book describing the creatures and plants of Ice Vale. An autobiography of a retired general. A book on the wine varieties of Mirktal. A religious study written by a merchant describing their various trades with different orders. An account of a woman who barely escaped sacrifice to Tervan’s bloody jungle god. Each one, gathered from different parts of the inn, I replaced with copies of the tome my assistants transcribed. A way to further spread the spells that needed to slow the Pestilence. When I finished, I retired to one of the many small alcoves to nurse another lager and read one of the tomes that had partly interested me, but not enough to take. It was there that the messenger returning from the King’s court found me and informed me that my summons would be tomorrow afternoon. With a tip of two silvers to the girl, I continued reading and planned my day for tomorrow. The next morning, I arose feeling rested. The travel from my tower must have taken more from me than I had suspected. After a breakfast of oatmeal with chunks of chicken and a side of grapes, a fare I considered mediocre at best, I began preparing for court. The robe I had brought with me for the occasion was a soft burgundy with yellow stripe, the formal wear issued to warmage officers when I served. I hadn’t the occasion to wear it in a long while, and though it almost certainly was no longer in use, I thought it perfect to the occasion. Several awarded medallions of honor I had earned were next. The golden squares hung from thin purple ribbons, each with a different emblem. Several armbands followed, six in total. Though I had more than twelve, the others were lower honors. These six represented six historic battles that I once fought in, achievements hard-earned with killing and grief. The next preparation I made was a more delicate matter. While my wards would protect me from poison and attack, I had to cast multiple spells upon myself to protect against charm and charisma-based skills. This was trickier than most suspect, as many believe a skill like [Beautiful] affected only the user, making them more beautiful. My research had proven that incorrect, as when such skills were disabled, the user reverted to prior appearance. I ascertained that this meant the skill affected how the skill-user was perceived and not how they actually were. To make matters worse, there were several higher-level skills that contained aspects of such skills while also having other effects. A skill like [Etiquette Erudite] for example was a combination of active behavior change, an elevated chance to teach others, and a subtle charming effect. I’m more than certain that the nobles I would be near today had similar skills. The wards I wove to protect myself from these effects had several nuances that took more than an hour to complete. When I was finally done, I made one last change. The illusion of an older human that I wore for decades now, I modified. It might be petty of me, but I took Loralie’s example and made a small hunch in my back so that the illusion’s eyes were at the level of my real chin. I brought with me my finest staff, a thing of mithril and gems that caught the eye like nothing else I had created and intended to feign using it for support. With little else to do and most of the morning spent, I departed to take a carriage to the castle. The ride was peaceful, but I felt surprised that I found myself looking forward to the event. When I arrived at the gates, an [Administrator] and several [King’s Guards] met me at the entrance. The [Administrator] looked to be of the normal weaselly fellow that took up that class, even if he dressed in more elaborate robes. The guards, though, stood and walked with a stoic discipline that was quite refreshing. So great was their discipline that not even their eyes moved. While the administrator tried to rush me along the long hallway to the king’s hall, I knew I was early enough to maintain a slow and stately pace through the castle. I could count on two hands the number of times I had been inside, and I was eager to view the expensive and tasteful décor. I paused to take in tapestries of battles, some I had fought in, paintings of historical figures painted to be more handsome or beautiful than I recalled. One particular painting caught my eye, that of the last Queen of Sena, a dignified and rigid woman. She had held her lands in a firm grip, tolerating no bribery in her kingdom and implemented severe penalties for the crime. I had quite admired the woman at the time, as it was her leadership that led to the war that grew Sena to include the northern lands of Freetoni. Now that I had the effects of my tea contained, though it squirmed inside me the closer we came to the throne, I realized I didn’t care for the woman. Bitter at the loss of her husband and first child to Mirtallean assassins, she waged a war that cost the kingdom so many lives and never even received the vengeance she desired. With a slight shake of my head, I kept walking until we reached the foyer to wait for the court to announce us. I marveled at the room, a heady display of opulence. The walls were lined with matching couches that promised a more comfortable seat than any I had seen. A great tapestry covered the entirety of a wall, one that displayed a map of the entire kingdom. Ten servants waited to either side of the room, standing between couches and holding trays of expensive fruits and wine. Several other courtiers of various standing waited in the room as well, though we ignored each other with equal distaste. I sampled some of the delicacies as I waited, though I forewent any of the tea in favor of the wine. The wine, a fragrant coastal vintage made from oranges and blackberries, tasted wonderful. I made sure to ask the name of the vintner so that I could see if anyone sold it later. I was sipping at the wine and nibbling at a sweetened strawberry pastry when the doors to the hall were opened by the guards. From within I heard a crowd laughing, and I saw a well-dressed dwarven woman stomp her way out. Metal boots sounded against the floor, even through the plush carpet. Her face was so flushed with anger, I feared she would start a brawl then and there. She glared all around her as she walked, as if looking for someone to relieve her anger. Her eyes flew past me and came right back for just a moment before she kept going. I hadn’t heard the dwarven language in a few years, and I considered myself grateful that I only recognized half of the foul language she was muttering on the way out. I spent the next hour or so lounging on a couch and nibbling on the king’s fruit and wine before a courtier found me to let me know I would be next. I used a quick cleaning spell to rid myself of crumbs and moved to my place beside the man to wait for the doors to open. As they opened, the man beside me called out, “Presenting Nemon Fargus, fifth-tier wizard!” That was it? After all I had done, this was how I was presented to the court? I snorted in distaste and walked slowly into the room. As decorated as the rest of the castle had been, the room that held the king’s throne was even moreso. The pathway I walked wasn’t carpeted, but rather a collection of pearls that shifted underfoot. On either side of the pathway, ran thin ponds filled with beautiful tube-shaped flowers and schools of small colorful fish of red and white. Beyond that stood courtiers and nobles, merchants and priests standing on rising polished wood benches. A gathered crowd of the kingdom’s most influential, all oozing with condescending arrogance masked within tasteful garments. The styles had changed since my last visit, and most wore loose silk pants and tight vests with no undershirt. Berets of multiple bright colors topped heads, some with ornamental feathers and jewels. Not that it was easy to notice the jeweled hats over all the other jewelry these men and women wore. I ignored their ridiculous murmurs as I walked down the path. Instead, I gazed at the ornately carved pillars and the stained-glass picture placed on the ceiling. It was an ambitious picture of knights riding down a rolling hill and slaying their panicked enemies constructed entirely from thousands of tiny crystals. With enough gems, I could do something similar in my tower, though my bedroom was the only room I could put one in the ceiling. I wouldn’t be doing that. Perhaps windows? That seemed a better use and would be easier to accomplish. I would need to decide on what I would want the image to be, as I was certainly not planning to replicate knights charging or something else so mundane. When I finally reached the throne, a garish thing of polished white stone with red velvet cushions, I offered the customary bow for the situation and waited. “Rise,” the king called, a young man of maybe thirty summers. Wearing a suit of mithril armor with more decorations and minor enchantments than I thought necessary, I had to admit he dressed the part of a king. His face bore all the noble features I would expect, the angular cheeks, the cleft chin, the upturned nose, the regal unibrow, and eyes with metallic irises that looked on with excitement. As was customary, the more important courtiers gathered at this end of the hall, and I could see the ducal houses stood closest to the throne, but I didn’t look closer at the moment as I was waiting on the king’s words. The king didn’t even speak, though, he simply waved a hand at one of the attendants that stood next to him, a fat and sweaty man, who unrolled a scroll to read from. “Wizard Nemon Fargus, you are hereby recalled from your retirement to be reinstated to your prior rank and privilege. You are to report to the garrison at Fort Freetoni for immediate commission.” I had listened and waited for him to finish. The magical remnants from the tea squirmed desperately inside me, but the cage was strong. Yet, I had not just been idly gazing at the decorations as I had walked through the crowd, I had also been looking for all those who held the effects of the tea within themselves. I was not surprised to see it in nearly every person present. I was surprised to see it within the king himself. I had hoped and planned for this. I’d planned for many other possibilities as well, but this was one of the ones I looked forward to the most. “Respectfully, I refuse,” I answered. Of course, my answer sent a tizzy of anger and cursing through the crowded room.