On his way to his new office, Key made a stop at Castor's to pick up some of his things. He walked in to find an older woman sitting in the chair across from Castor.

"Ah, speaking of my new sergeant," Castor observed him. "It looks like you've already been to Gretta's."

"Yeah, and apparently, I owe her flowers for asking about her husband," Key set his hat on his old desk. "And I have to pick up the rest of my uniforms today."

"You better get her flowers then," Castor said seriously. "I had to learn that lesson the hard way. Sergeant Key, this is a good friend of mine, Delina Esereal. Delina, this is Sergeant Key."

Key walked over and took her hand. "The pleasure is mine, Miss Esereal."

"Please, you can call me Delina," she said, insisting. "Charles has kept me informed of your adventures and heroic rescues. You were quite the topic of conversation at court for a while."

"They talked about me in court?" Key was taken aback. "You work with the king?"

"Yes, and yes," she answered without further information.

"Delina, why don't you give him an example of what you do?" Castor said, sharing an indecipherable look with the noblewoman. "I really do love watching you work."

She gave the slightest look of frustration, and then it was gone. "Of course," she beckoned Key to hold out his hand. She dropped a silver talent in his palm. "The illusion of magic is often as powerful as magic itself. In war, for instance, if the enemy has a larger force, the favor of the battle is in their hands, much like this coin in yours. But with the right illusion," she held her hand in the air above his, "the perception of power might trade hands." The coin lifted from Key's hand and slowly hovered upward before finally settling into her own palm. "That's what I do. I'm part magician, part tactician, and part entertainer."

Key clapped his hands. "That was really good! How did you do it?"

"I don't reveal my secrets," she said sternly.

"It's the thread made from a certain spider web," Castor explained. "It's nearly invisible but very dangerous to come by; it is completely worth the risk if you ask me. She attaches it to the coin and then lifts it up."

"Are you quite done?" She slipped the coin back into her vest and glared at Castor.

"Everyone knows that; besides, you told us all last year," Castor said defiantly.

"I didn't tell him that or anyone else outside of our little dinner party," she said angrily. "From now on, if you're around, I'm only drinking water."

A thought blossomed in Key's mind. It was border-lining brilliance. "So, it was just a trick? Can you teach it to me? I have someone I would love to make think I could levitate coins."

Castor spoke first. "Who do you want to play a trick on?" Before the words left his mouth, a look of understanding dawned on his face. "Delina, I have a story to tell you and It might be better than anything you've heard at court."

Key tried to protest, but the captain held up his finger and began recounting the story of The Great Key and Jory Feud. Key sat horrified, hearing his story being told with the threat of it spreading through official channels. He didn't want everyone to hear about his secret feud but was nonetheless intrigued with the way it was being told.

The captain weaved a story from the strands of realism that was simultaneously true and false. The story made Jory out to be the brilliant mastermind and Key, the persevering protagonist. Whenever Jory gained the upper hand, Key would fight through each abysmal defeat to regain his honor and revenge.

Castor's voice glided through the air softly, causing the listener to lean forward to catch his words. Then, abruptly, he changed his tone, causing them to find their feet back on the ground. Parts of the story came from what Key had relayed to him, but other parts were from the raw facts found in each of the hero and villain's write-ups.

"So, I brought them to my team, and now they combine their powers for the sake of good, and The Great Key and Jory Feud has finally come to an end," Castor concluded his story.

"Except for one thing," Key added, caught up in the tale. "A number of months ago, I did a really big favor for Jory. In return, he thanked me by giving me a flask of spirits that I thought was a peace offering. When I was gathering my uniforms today, the flask came out of my storage chest, and my friend Alrick found it. I told him it was from Jory, but he drank it anyway. It turned his teeth black."

"Ground meoli seeds," Delina said absentmindedly.

Castor let out a roaring laugh. "So, the feud isn't over after all?"

"I thought it was over this whole time, but really, it was my move, so to speak," Key explained. "That's why I want to do something different. I want it to be big, but I don't necessarily want it to be a direct attack. I just want to gain an upper hand in my own way. If I can make him believe I can lift coins with my mind, I think I would be satisfied."

For the first time since the story started, Delina moved in her chair. "Did he really tie a scarf around the fish's neck?"

Key nodded gravely.

"That story is brilliant! Why haven't I heard this before?" Delina asked, slapping Castor on the arm.

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"The three of us in this room are the only ones who know it," he replied.

"My friends have all kept up with it as it was happening," Key corrected.

"-But no one in court," Castor added quickly. "I can't even imagine the implications of you joining forces with Key to put a final and glorious end to the feud. The next time I tell the story, it could be of a hopeless battle turned victorious when the Royal Magician lends her aid to the hero of the story. Also, I think we could all have a good laugh at the outcome."

"It would make a good story," The room went silent as Delina mulled it over. "Okay, I'll help, but if we're going to do this, we have to do it my way or not at all."

"Of course," Key conceded.

"This isn't going to be easy. You'll need to practice everything at least fifty times before I even consider doing it for real." Delina said seriously.

"No problem."

"I'll need time to prepare," she said, looking at both of them in sequence.

"Charles, I'll contact you when I'm ready to receive visitors. We're not going to just make him think you can levitate coins; we're going to make him think you're a wizard!

I have to go, but it has been my pleasure." She regarded both of them and left.

Key picked up the messenger satchel and began filling it with items from his desk. "You have interesting friends."

"You have no idea," Castor said, loading his pipe. "And don't mention thanking me. Really, don't mention it."

"Thank you for what?" Key asked, putting several red candles in the leather bag.

"How I just introduced you to the king's personal magician and then single-handedly convinced her to help you." Castor began mimicking him, "Us three in the room and every single one of my friends."

Key slung the satchel over his head. "Like all things, I'm sure you had ulterior motives."

"Ulterior motives? You injure me!" Castor put his hand over his heart. "How do I always have ulterior motives?"

Key snapped his fingers as he located memories. "My promotion, for one, was only because you wanted your office back."

"Granted, but what about the day off I gave everybody last week?"

"You wanted a day off."

"What about Corbin? The thief boy and his sister."

Key's confidence wavered. "I don't know. Why did you do all that for him?"

"Because, some things," Castor considered. "Some things can only be done by people with power. Not everything I do has an ulterior motive, and I am accepting gratitude for helping you."

"Then thank you."

"Thank me for what?" Castor prodded. "Make sure and let people know what you're thanking them for."

"Thank you for convincing the king's magician to make me a wizard."

"It's no problem at all, young Sergeant Key," Castor said. "Also, I'm pulling a favor to send Sergeant Thomas Allister to teach you how to act in your new position. Listen to him well. He's going to do his best to keep you from making any blunders. The sergeants live in a different world, and right now, you know nothing about it."

"Good to know," Key walked over to the door.

Castor stopped him from leaving. "How did the crucible go yesterday?"

"I slipped on some ice, and she beat me." Key admitted. "I called for a rematch, but she's refused because we already agreed that there would be no excuses."

"You slipped on a single patch of ice? And that's why she beat you?" Castor laughed and shook his head.

Key stared humorlessly at his captain. "We both finished it in under an hour. It's not like I had a whole lot of room for error."

"A bet is a bet," Castor stated. "Now you have to clear out the bathhouse and stand guard, huh?"

"It's not so bad," Key said. "She'll be in and out in no time."

"I'll bet you a talent she takes longer than an hour," Castor reached into his pocket and placed a silver coin on his desk.

Key hesitated. "No, but I'll bring an hourglass anyway and let you know how you would have lost."

"I can't wait." Castor put the coin back in his pocket. "Make sure you send someone later; I have errands for them."

"I will." Key opened the door and left.

The new office was a bustle of activity. Keebler and Lambro were helping kids haul everything from the discard pile out to several carts waiting outside. A man followed Trudie around, taking notes on where things should go on the wall. Jory and a dusty looking man worked together to restore the table that was set up on the left of the room. There were only two desks left in the office.

Key set his satchel on the desk, which he assumed was his, and began unpacking it.

"Hold on a moment," He heard Trudie say from behind him. "That's the reception desk. Yours is in the back."

"Why in the back?" Key started repacking his satchel.

"Have you ever noticed how small you feel standing in Colonel Chapman's office?" Trudie asked. "I'm recreating it." She pointed to the desk in the back right corner. "That's where the colonel sits."

He finally saw it. The desks, the chairs, the placement of the table, and even the weapons she was working to mount on the walls. The office was slightly smaller than the colonel's, but Trudie was recreating it from memory. She went back to talking with the man.

Key moved to the back desk to unload his things. There, he found a piece of paper and inspected it. It was a list of all the monetary acquisitions he would have to write for discard removal, wood renovations, masonry, and several other items. As soon as his satchel was unloaded, he sat down and started working on them.

Over the winter, Key had become proficient in writing formal letters. He stopped needing to copy reference letters over a month ago. In less than an hour, he checked off the last item on his list and began folding and sealing each acquisition.

When he was finished, he looked around the room. It was empty. He made one final acquisition for his uniforms, leaned back in his chair, and shook the tension out of his hand.

The door opened, and a man he recognized as Sergeant Allister walked in.

"Good afternoon, sergeant," Key greeted.

"Good afternoon, yourself," Allister replied as he approached Key's desk. "It's starting to come together in here. Have I reached you at a good time?"

"It's as good as it gets," Key dripped wax on his letter and then placed a wooden handle stamp over the top. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm here to help." The sergeant gave an earnest smile. He was probably in his mid-twenties and had the chiseled jaw of the archetypical sergeant.

"I'll be in and out of here over the next couple weeks to answer questions, give you pointers, and ultimately teach you the things I wish I would have learned when I first made sergeant. Do you have any questions so far?"

Key pulled the stamp off his letter and tucked it in a drawer. "When do I move out of the barracks?"

Allister smiled. "You'll receive an invitation soon enough. If you want, I can show you the sergeant's quarters and give introductions?"

Trudie walked in the door carrying a rolled-up carpet.

Key hesitated. "Okay, but we'll need to stop and pick up my uniforms first."

"Nonsense, just have one of your men take care of that," Allister suggested. "You're a sergeant now and have bigger problems to worry about. Ah, we'll ask her to do it."

Key stood up and walked over to help Trudie with the carpet. The two of them unrolled it, displaying a red and silver, triangular pattern.

"It's nice," Key complemented and then cleared his throat. "Trudie, I have to go with the sergeant, will you please pick up my uniforms from Gretta's?

"Yes, sergeant," she said mechanically. "Where do you want me to put them?"

"Just inside my barrack's room would be fine." Key dug through his coin pouch and handed her some coins. "Can you bring her flowers for me too?"

"Flowers?" Trudie eyed him and the coins suspiciously.

"Yeah, just a few roses or whatever you find will be okay. I don't really care," Key said, reading Trudie's expression. "It's not like that. It's just an inside joke and 'thank you' in a way. I'll tell you the story later."