Magister Traugott, wearing the gray robes given to him by the Order of the Gray Owl, sat atop a parapet on the walls of Dirracha, legs dangling over the side. He peered down at the first level of the multi-segmented city, eyes wandering its streets. It was dark out and the red moon above was barely visible at this time of month. Unless one shined a light upon him, he was all but invisible to all below.

“You,” a voice cut in, and Magister Traugott turned his head in surprise.

Orion of Vasquer stood there, looking worn and tired. His long black hair had lost its signature braid and devolved into a messy tangle atop his head, and his beard grew longer by the day. His gray eyes were firm, though, and they watched Traugott with every willingness to kill.

“Who are you?” Orion asked, voice cutting above the wind of the high altitude.

Traugott lifted his legs and slowly turned his body around. “Me? I am only a scholar with an interest that has revitalized me,” he answered.

“You are more. We both know this,” Orion responded, stepping forth. “If you cannot answer… you must leave.”

“For now, a scholar is all I am,” Traugott stubbornly refused. “I came here…” he jumped off the parapet he sat upon. “…because I heard the great serpent beneath this city has knowledge. She has answers to some of my questions.”

Orion did not look pleased, but neither did he rush to attack Traugott. “Who told you this?”

“Princess Elenore,” Traugott said, flashing a smile with white teeth.

“Elenore?” Orion repeated cautiously. “…my sister? What did she say to you?”

“That the reason the king knew what he did… of Gerechtigkeit, of the coming calamity… was because of Vasquer,” Traugott outlined earnestly, stepping towards Orion. “I could not find the king. He was absent. So… I came here, to another thing that has drawn my interest.”

Orion’s tension finally dispelled somewhat, and he told Traugott coldly, “Vasquer speaks only to her descendants. Even were that not the case… I am uneased having one who offers such dubious answers so close. Who are you?”

“Magister Traugott of the Order of the Gray Owl,” the man answered, almost begrudgingly.

“A Magister…” Orion acknowledged, his wariness returning. “I killed one of yours outside these city walls. I don’t trust your ilk, your political motivations…”

“Good prince…” Traugott shook his head. “You have forgotten one detail of this conversation. I know about Gerechtigkeit,” he said, spreading his arms out. “As do you. Why would I ever seek to do harm? That would be an unreasonable conclusion. The calamity is coming, and most wouldn’t dare risk strife in such… dire times.” Traugott smiled.

Orion gave a steady nod after a time. “Even still… what are you here for, then?”

Traugott stepped up to the parapets of the wall, then placed one foot atop it. Leaning an elbow on his knee, he said, “You claim I cannot communicate with Vasquer… which is sad if true,” Traugott admitted. “…but who says I cannot? We have not tried, my prince. And even then…” Traugott turned to Orion, his dark eyes lingering on him. “I have other reasons to stay in this city.”

“I see no reason to let you stay,” Orion decided. “I cannot risk any danger. You are a foreign element. I cannot allow myself to be swayed. I know the righteous path.”

Traugott pursed his lips. “Even if I can offer reprieve from the voices of the gods?”

Orion stepped forward, the power in his gait seeming to rock the great wall they stood upon. “Do you know the consequences of that statement?”

“I do, prince Orion. You are another interest of mine,” Traugott admitted, backing away a step. “Until you have tried it, you cannot deny the enticement, can you? I believe you suffer. From how I hear your royal knights speak, I believe that it is a reasonable conclusion. You have turned against the gods, haven’t you? But what is a god?”

Orion paused, staring down Traugott. Then, he clenched his fist. “Begone.”

“You are the prince,” Traugott conceded, holding his hands up. “But if your mind should sway… I’ll return soon.”

Traugott’s shadow whirled, and he fell into it, heading into the terrifying Shadowlands. Here, no sight, no sound, no sense existed—yet Traugott fumbled, seeking an exit like a man pounding against ice from below. Something told him of things lurking beyond, and the supposedly powerful Magister felt as though a great leviathan of this ocean of shadows sought to eat him alive.

And then… he reappeared on the mortal world, near the bottom of the wall of Dirracha. He spared a glance upwards.

“Your gods serve more than just you,” Traugott said, then stepped away from the wall.

#####

As Argrave’s brain was whirling, operating under the pretense that Hegazar and Vera might strut through the elevator any minute, Vasilisa asked a very reasonable question.

“When will these two be coming?” Vasilisa watched Ivan as he put the paper back in the drawer and slid it shut.

“I’m not sure. They might not come at all…” Ivan said, walking back to them. “Considering Traugott didn’t, that might even be the expected outcome. All I need is for you to come by when they do. If you stay close at hand, it won’t be a problem. Perhaps you can stay in my tower? Certainly, there is ample lodging. This place is ridiculously large…” the blonde Magister said, his tone verging on bragging.

Argrave very nearly breathed a loud sigh of relief. The Magisters’ arrival wasn’t imminent. That gave them some breathing room to figure out what, exactly, they could do about the arrival of Vera and Hegazar. Wait it out, perhaps? No, Argrave reasoned. Castro had sent Traugott to inform the other Magisters about Gerechtigkeit and have them return to the Tower to confirm support of Argrave’s claim to the throne. That meant that after they talked to Ivan, they would come to Vasilisa.

It seemed a confrontation was inevitable. Everyone else could be easily fooled… but Hegazar and Vera both would surely recognized Argrave by face alone—if not him, then the two others alongside him. To say the least, they didn’t have forgettable faces or statures.

“Can you give me some time to think about it?” Vasilisa responded amicably. “I’ll return to my inn.”

“Inn? Come now…” Ivan held his arms out. “It’s truly no trouble for you to stay here. Your friends are welcome just as well,” he said, for the first time looking upon Argrave and the rest of them. “Separate quarters can be arranged for them.”

“My things are in the inn,” Vasilisa said.

“So bring them,” Ivan insisted. “Come now… you can’t insult me,” he said, tone somewhat low.

Vasilisa stared at Ivan, expression tense. Argrave finally contributed, “She’s hesitant to agree because of us. We agreed to meet someone at the inn. They’re expecting us to be there,” he explained. “Vasilisa simply doesn’t wish to leave us behind to meet with this man alone.”

Ivan pursed his lip, then tapped one finger against his leg as he stared down Argrave. “Well, fine. But once that’s done?”

“Of course we’ll accept your offer,” Vasilisa seized the opportunity Argrave offered. “You’ve made a lovely home for yourself here. I would be remiss to lodge here.”

Ivan smiled brightly. “Wonderful. I’m looking forward to it.”

#####

I’m indebted to Hegazar, but Vera is surely going to want to eat my spleen. What exactly does this mean? Why are they coming together? Argrave’s brain asked a lot of questions, but few answers were given. Though Argrave wished to immediately return to privacy with Anneliese and Galamon and discuss what, exactly, they were going to do about the two coming…

“Good gods,” Vasilisa fumed as they walked the streets. “Now that I know… every word that comes out of that slug’s mouth is like poison. I want to crush him like a bug.”

Though Argrave was amply distracted, he still managed, “I thought you said it wasn’t proven.”

“I don’t need proof,” she said. “Just looking at him… just the reasoning of it all, it all makes sense.” She crossed her arms as they walked. “Everything he does, everything he says: it’s all measured for personal benefit. He wants me to show proof of debt to two Magisters, wants me to stay in his home to show relations between his house and Quadreign are strong… it’s all calculated. For the flame to be in his hands makes too much sense.”

“Still…” Anneliese said. “Finding proof would be the best way to go about things.”

“But how?” Vasilisa said, frustrated.

“The Flame of the Tenebrous Star has to be stored somewhere,” Argrave pointed out. “I know a few methods I might utilize to find out where it could be hiding away. Problem is…” he stopped on the street, just ahead of Vasilisa. “It seems he’s going to be keeping a close eye on you. He wants you for this meeting.”

Vasilisa considered that, and then nodded. “I know. But it isn’t as though you two can go about snooping on your own—that’s just as eye-catching. And… we’re losing the plot. I don’t see any avenue of attack,” she said, somewhat hopelessly.

“Don’t you?” Argrave raised a brow. “Two Magisters come to the city… evidently, Magisters that concern Ivan.”

Vasilisa narrowed her eyes. “What are you suggesting?”

“Maybe it’s best that we get ahead of this meeting,” Argrave clasped his hands together. “We have time. I’m not sure how much, but it’s time—time that can be spent planning, looking for opportunities. Maybe, just maybe, these Magisters will be more a windfall than a hindrance.”

Argrave felt he might be going mad… but if there was a way to swing this in their favor, a way to meet with Hegazar and Vera before Vasilisa? Presumably, they came because of Gerechtigkeit—that was why Traugott had been sent. Well… Argrave already owed Hegazar. He had a debt to Vera, too, though that was one of revenge. What could entice them?

“Alright,” Vasilisa said. “Let’s see how this plays out.”