As I departed my tower, I didn’t see the Prince and his entourage still on the cliffs. It was a mild relief to know that among the young man’s people was someone intelligent enough to see them down from such a minor height. A part of me had feared that the Prince surrounded himself with others of his intellect and they were in the midst of starving from a height that warrior classes should have been able to jump down from.

The Prince’s absence did remind me of the two missives the King sent that were in my bag of holding.

I hadn’t found the time to read them before I left, but the wedding was scheduled for tomorrow. As long as I wasn’t drawn into too many pre-wedding festivities, then I would have an opportunity to read them then.

It was a pleasant few hours of flight that took me to Goldcastle. The weather was warm and sunny, the clouds were big puffy things that held no threat of rain. A cool western breeze blew down from the western mountains, and I saw nothing of the wyverns that had flown by recently.

When I arrived, the town itself was in an uproar of preparation, as the townspeople prepared for the ceremony. For a Count to hold their wedding in such a far-flung area brought great prestige to their Barony, and the commonfolk seemed thrilled at the idea.

Young lads were fighting with wooden sticks and barrel tops in the street, and young ladies had taken to dressing in dark-colored shirts and pants as they snuck about in games of hide-and-seek.

Imitating the renowned rogue-turned-baroness that would soon be uplifted to countess was an exciting idea to them, as she had never made public mention of her noble upbringing. To these people, it was as if the Count were marrying a commoner. It wasn’t unheard of for such a thing to happen, but it was a rarity.

Streamers of bright colorful cloth hung from nails on roofs, and many men and women were singing bawdy songs. I could hear cheers rising as I flew over the town towards the castle, and couldn’t help but wonder if these folks would be cheering more or less if I hadn’t worn pants today. I chuckled at the thought, as I realized I was sharing the happy mood of the town.

The guards at the gate, bowed low when I landed before the building. It was odd to see, but there were three sets of guards there: two in service to Baron Aide, two in service to Baroness Nix, and two in service to Count Wilchrest. The runners and servants outside the manor all stopped to take note of my arrival, some with expressions of wonder I wished I hadn’t seen. Yet, there was little I could do, unless I wanted to address the growing crowd, so I nodded my head at the guards and waited for them to open the door.

It was two hours later, after an irritating welcome and an annoying ongoing feast that I found myself alone. While the feast had been one of exuberant joy and loud happiness, I simply sampled the wines long enough to be noticed before retiring to my assigned quarters. The only thing of note was that I had been approached by a mage named Stelk, an apprentice or disciple to Alred, to provide a missive from the man.

Thus, I found myself sitting on the bed, going through three scrolls. The first one I read, from Alred, was terse and unexpectedly morose. Moreover, it contained none of the wizard’s tricks I would have expected. It wasn’t even warded against another opening it. I recognized his writing, of course, otherwise I might have suspected a trap.

Nemon,

Natali is gone.

The invitation to visit remains, but I am not the same man I was.

Alred

I could see the tear stains that smudged some of the ink, and knew the feeling well. With pursed lips, I placed that scroll in my bag of holding and decided to visit the man soon. Not immediately, though. As familiar as I was with loss and grief, that didn’t mean I enjoyed seeing others as they went through that first week or two of madness. Three weeks would be enough time, especially as I had more towns to lift.

The two scrolls that had come from King had come at different times. My Seneschal had intelligently chosen to wrap a string around the first. In the King’s last missive, he accused me of treason with the Seafolk and summoned me to the capital to answer for it. That missive I had entirely ignored. The sheer absurdity of it didn’t leave me with expectations that any further communications would grow fruit.

If he had declared me an outlaw for not answering his summons, I should at least know of it before a cadre of greedy mages attacked my tower for the knowledge in my library. I pursed my lips, undid the string, and then checked for traps or poison. Finding neither, I unrolled the scroll and read an even more preposterous claim than the last. This missive accused me of creating an illusion that the Tervans had summoned their blood god and fomenting rebellion in Sena City.

The most curious part was that it described the mutated monsterization of snakes, something I had experienced with the bird Alred had gifted to me as a possible familiar, and then linked it to the snake pits I once had used for my experimentation. The missive ended with a second demand that I answer the summons and report to the capital.

While the accusations and demands didn’t irritate me like the last scroll, as I now found them a small bit humorous, I did feel somewhat alarmed. That experimental pit that contained monsterized snakes could have easily become an unholy terror released on the villagers around my tower if I hadn’t destroyed the things. It was easy to see how close I had come to unintentionally creating a disaster. There would have been no way to defend myself from the words of any survivors if that would have taken place. I only considered it for a moment, but, at that moment, I was relieved at my unintentional foresight.

I had decided to make light of any demands and accusations the King would have of me by the time I picked up the second scroll he sent. Unfortunately, it wasn’t what I expected. This one, while not apologizing for the previous two missives, alerted me to the arrival of Pestilence coming across the border in the southern parts of Sena. While there were no outright demands or requests for action on my part, the tone and specifically chosen wording, implied apology and requested aid.

Even if the King never apologized or recognized my contribution, I felt the need to send word back to Loralie not to continue the preparations for the Unending Agony spell. I had no use for apologies or recognition. I cared little for the man, but he was in the best position to orchestrate the defense of the kingdom against the Pestilence until a solution could be found.

The next day, I stood through the long ceremony that constituted the couple’s wedding. For whatever reason, the two nobles had decided to walk the entire way from the town’s gates to the manor leading a procession of nobles, knights, adventurers, and anyone of even potential note. I, of course, stood at the manor and waited.

When they arrived at the manor, dressed in the most fashionable of ways, mages around me began to cast illusions of birds made of light flying upwards into the air. This was normally done so that the commonfolk would see the illusions and assume the blessing of Elora was being given to the couple, but I couldn’t help but imagine a swarm of wyvern seeing the illusions as a midday snack and attacking the town. Those wyverns had headed Northeast and not directly North, but I wasn’t certain how far they had traveled.

Rather than take the risk, I used my magic to create an enormous bird made from bright light and had it fly circles around the town. Its wingspread was at least triple that of the ancient wyvern I had seen, and I held little back in detailing its beak and claws. It was all I could do not to roll my eyes when the Priestesses of Elora throughout the town began giving sermons, and folks randomly fell into fervent prayer.

When the ceremony was finally finished, and after the celebration had begun, I found myself sitting at a table with Count Wilchrest and his new Countess. Both were in extremely high spirits, and I was happy for them. That didn’t mean I wanted to sit at their table and partake in their current conversations over local politics, though. Without hesitation, I withdrew the gift I had prepared for them and slid it across the food-laden table. However, when neither one immediately reached to open it, I became wary.

“Honored Wizard, I wanted to thank you on behalf of the Shieldings for restoring our title, the people of Eiston for saving them from slavery, and on my behalf for your part in introducing me to my new wife,” Count Wilchrest said with an earnestness that surprised me. Beside him, Countess Nix nodded along with a serious expression.

I waved a hand, “Think nothing of it.” I then took a sip of my wine and used my eyes to try to tell the couple to open their gift. As soon as they did so, I could officially excuse myself from the celebration and continue on my travels. I know I was letting my impatience get to me, but the King’s missive regarding the Pestilence’s arrival had worried me more than I realized. Each moment spent here could be an entire village or town I could have saved with a single spell. I would not have people accuse me of drinking and being merry when hydra ate their children.

Despite my growing sense of urgency, the couple didn’t relent. They tried a variety of topics that I continued to brush away, until they seemed to reach some conclusion of their own. “Wizard Fargus, my mages tell me you cast the illusion of the Dove of Elora that has the townspeople in awe. The priestesses have already performed a hundred and thirty weddings today, and count more than double that in engagements.”

This time, I did roll my eyes, “There’s always a reason. Now, if you will excuse me, there are many matters to attend to.” I gave a formal bow, the kind given to equals, to the new couple and departed. I had observed enough merriment for one day, and the anxiousness I felt regarding the Pestilence was only growing.