“So where should we go first?” Gregory asked Cooper as they walked out of the guild hall.

“I’m hungry. Back to the market?”

“Sure! What skill are you going to get next?”

They started walking down the street the way they had come. Cooper considered the question for a moment.

“I think I want to unlock some magic, so I’m not sure. I will probably use next my skill on a dog class ability. Advanced Search maybe? I need to practice using mana like you did with Olivander, so I can unlock a spell class.”

“That would definitely be useful. I kind of want the opposite. I unlocked the Magician’s Apprentice class, but I don’t want to be a straight spell caster. I think I will get another attack spell, but I intend to use it with my channeling sword. I want some cool melee magic!”

“That sounds like a good direction.”

When they arrived in the market square it wasn’t as busy as earlier, but there were more food stalls gearing up for dinner time.

Gregory’s coin pouch was still full from the dungeon, so he and Cooper did a tasting tour of the market. Kebabs were big back in Demering, but they didn’t spot many among the stalls. Instead, they saw a wide variety of meat pies and other rich, savory foods, like the volvin meat pies they had eaten that morning.

They were finishing their circuit of stalls at the market, when Cooper spotted something he simply couldn’t resist.

At the end of the line, there was a table that was stacked high with heads of lettuce. Gregory had been negotiating with the stall owners and paying for food as they went, but Cooper figured Gregory could buy one of the lettuces for him when he caught up. The man’s two legs were just so slow. Cooper ran ahead, slowing as he approached the magnificent display.

Ahh lettuce, he thought, it has been too long. I had those cabbages the other day, but it’s just not the same.

He eyed the big green heads. They were fresh and glistening. Without a second thought, he grabbed the closest head and pulled it out of the stack.

It was so crunchy. It was like a ball you could eat. He chomped it in half, some spilling out of his mouth onto the ground. That was no matter. Humans didn’t like eating off the ground, but it just added more texture.

Cooper failed to notice that the head of lettuce he grabbed had been a load bearing lettuce. As he ate, the huge pile of lettuce heads started to shift and roll.

Gregory saw what was happening in slow motion. He just shook his head at the dog’s antics at first. It was funny seeing him get so excited about lettuce. To him it was arguably one of the most boring foods. As he watched, the pile of lettuce shifted and started to collapse. He tried to shout, but it was too late.

By the time he arrived at the produce stand, there was an irate stall owner yelling about a dog, and Cooper sheepishly poking his head out of a pile of lettuce.

“Are you okay?”

“Fantastic.”

“No I am not okay!” the stall owner shouted at Gregory. “Your dog just ruined all of my lettuce!”

“I’m really sorry, sir. I’d be happy to pay for them.”

“You think you can just buy me off? Is that it? You rich folks, you come in here and just throw your money around, expecting us common folk to bend over backwards to please you! Well! I’m not going to do it!”

Gregory didn’t know what to say. He, and certainly Cooper, hadn’t meant to do anything besides buy some lettuce.

“I’m sorry, sir. It’s not like that, it was an accident.”

“An accident? An accident? You were just letting your dog run wild! How is it an accident? No, no, no! I won’t accept it. Marge? Marge! Get a constable over here. We have a rich boy who thinks he can walk all over us!”

Gregory grimaced and looked at Cooper. He was eyeing the lettuce all around him.

“Can I eat more of this?”

* * *

Olivander let his spells fall, revealing himself.

“Amegnon. I must confess, I did not anticipate you being here.”

Amegnon just smiled at him and gestured to a chair inside.

Olivander let out a breath and entered, sitting down in a chair across a coffee table from Giles. Amegnon sat on the same side as Giles. They were in a large study. There was a massive desk on the other side of the room, and bookshelves lining the walls. This half of the room had a sitting area and a tea service set up.

“Tea, Olivander?” Amegnon asked.

Giles gave the Arch-magus an incredulous look, but he schooled his expression quickly.

“That would be lovely. You still know how I like it?”

“How could I forget? All I did for an entire year was fetch you tea,” Amegnon said.

It was true. Amegnon had been a ward of the castle. He was raised by the magicians and the nobility who called the castle home, Olivander included. When Amegnon was first learning magic, Olivander had taken him on as an apprentice. That was right before Olivander became Arch-magus.

Amegnon returned and gave Olivander his tea. It was, of course, correct.

“So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” Olivander asked.

That got a vein in Giles’ head standing out.

“To what do you owe the pleasure? What are you doing in my home, Olivander?” Giles asked with obvious hostility.

“So it’s Olivander now? No longer putting on a show for the crowd, High Magus?” Olivander said with disgust.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

“Please, gentlemen, Peace” Amegnon said, and a pulse of calming power radiated from him.

The force of Amegnon’s power started suppressing Olivander’s emotions, but that only diminished his disgust towards Giles and stoked his buried rage at Amegnon. He loved this man, and he hated him in equal measure. Drawing on his own power, Olivander broke the spell.

“Amegnon, I will not sit quietly by and be lectured by you. I didn’t come here to do this, but I guess here we are,” Olivander said. He set his tea down and started pacing.

“Olivander. What happened between us is something we’ll need to get past. We have more important matters to attend to today. I didn’t come here just to check on you.”

Olivander felt heat rise in him as he clenched his fists. He tried not to scream at the man as he spoke.

“How dare you! How dare you try to pretend that we can just ‘get past’ this. How dare you try to suppress my anger, my pain. I raised you like a son. You left the castle and the capital both in your quest to pursue Magus. I waved you off—”

He choked back something between a snarl and a sob. This had been stewing for the better part of a month now, and the flood gates had been broken.

“I sent you off, proud. I wanted you to follow your dreams. Follow in my footsteps. Only to have you return years later after getting no communication, no letters, no nothing. You return, and the first thing you say to me? The first thing?”

Olivander was red with a mixture of entangled feelings that he would need hours to unravel. He waited. He wanted Amegnon to squirm. It was petulant, but he didn’t care. Giles was the one squirming instead, and he looked like he wanted to bolt out of the room. But, steady as ever, Amegnon watched Olivander.

Olivander thought he could see some sadness, some glimmer of regret in the man’s eyes, but he might have only been fooling himself.

Finally, Amegnon spoke, “I challenged you to a duel, for the position of Arch-magus.”

“You challenged me,” Olivander repeated. He lifted his arms slightly in a helpless kind of shrug and let them fall.

“I didn't even care about the position, you know? I was Arch-magus for fifteen years and it was hard. I don’t regret it, but I didn’t have an iron grip on it. You could have spoken to me. Instead, you let your power do the talking.”

“I didn’t have a choice, Olivander.”

“That’s bullshit. Don’t talk to me about choice. I taught you about choice. I taught you that the most important thing — a magician, a magus, a person, it doesn’t matter — the most important thing anyone can do is make good choices. I don’t understand the choice you made.”

Amegnon looked away. His jaw was set.

“And then, to make it worse? You threw me out. Literally had me tossed out the door on my face. Humiliated me and made me a pariah. ‘What could Olivander have done to make Amegnon, the man he practically raised, throw him out of the palace like some particularly foul trash.’ That’s what everyone thought. Amegnon the Just. You built quite the reputation for yourself in the years you were away! So tell me, Amegnon the Just. What is it that I did to make you treat me like a stranger — no, less than a stranger, a man deserving of no decency? Tell me, because for the life of me, I can’t figure it out!”

Olivander’s throat ached and he realized he had been shouting, his face red and eyes filled with anger and betrayal.

“I never wanted any of this to happen, Olivander. Certainly not like this.”

“You didn’t? Because from where I’m standing, it was you who caused all this to happen. I know the Queen was tired of me, and she had every right to ask you to do what you did. But you? You could have handled things so much better.”

“For that, I am truly sorry.”

Olivander scoffed and walked back around the chair, sitting down and trying to calm himself. He forced himself to take another sip of his tea. It tasted sour. He had been waiting to yell at Amegnon, to tell him about the pain he caused and to hurt him in turn. When it came down to it, when his rage boiled away, all he felt was empty.

“So why are you here?”

“Because Giles,” Amegnon gestured to the shellshocked man sitting to his right, “mentioned that he saw you. I portaled in immediately to confirm. I need to speak with you, Olivander.”

“Well I’m trying to talk to you, and all you’re giving me is a steaming pile of horse excrement.”

“Not about how I handled things, or about why I did what I did. I have reasons, and would like to share them with you, but my time is shorter than I’d like. The diviners in the capital have seen a massive mana imbalance coming. When I heard you were here I thought it would be prudent to get your input on the matter. You may no longer be Arch-magus, but your input would be valuable. Do you know anything about the imbalance?”

Olivander just stared at the man. Eventually he sighed and rubbed his face.

“Thorgar’mirous mentioned there was something along those lines happening.”

“You’ve been in contact with a dungeon spirit?” Giles asked. “You should report such things. They are not meant to meddle in our affairs directly.”

“And yet, that’s kind of their whole job. Thorgar is a friend, and we just had a chat while my two young companions were challenging a dungeon of his. I did not seek him out.”

“What did he tell you?” Amegnon prompted, trying to keep the conversation away from contentious topics.

“Not much, to be honest. He asked that I keep my eyes open, and correct any minor mana imbalances that I am able to address myself.”

“He asked that of you? What did he pay?” Giles asked. Any High Magus would know about the rules binding the dungeon spirits. They were powerful, but their power came at a cost. One of the things they couldn’t do was ask a mortal to act without giving up some power in exchange. It was a delicate balance that had worked well enough, with the dungeon spirits generally more concerned about the welfare of the world than the accumulation of power. That traded power could be dangerous in the wrong hands, however.

Olivander considered the question. When Thorgar’mirous said that he had already paid for Olivander's help, he assumed that there would be payment waiting for him back at his home in Mardareth —it was a place people knew he could receive things. But he was reconsidering that. When a new idea popped into his head, he knew it was what the dungeon spirit had actually meant –The Eye of the Dark Magus. Of course that was it, he had given the payment to one of his students.

“Nothing that concerns you or the council, High Magus,” Olivander said. They didn’t actually need to know what it was, and he wasn’t required to tell them. If Thorgar had asked him to do something that threatened the kingdom, or the people in it, then things might be different.

“So he had no idea why the imbalance was occurring?” Amegnon asked.

“I’m afraid not. As you may have read in my notes. This happens from time-to-time. As Arch-magus, it’s your responsibility to ensure the mana becomes rebalanced as soon as possible.”

“And how do I do that?”

“You know, this would have been just the sort of thing an outgoing Arch-magus would tell his successor, if he wasn’t thrown out of the castle immediately after losing a duel for the position. You know, I didn't even get a chance to grab any of my things from my study! I was in such a rush after being rudely awakened by a child coming to my door, demanding a duel, that I didn't even bring my dimensional token with me!”

“Olivander, please just tell me. I will make it up to you eventually. I promise.”

“Be careful what you promise. That is a tall order. Fortunately for you, the safety of the world at large outweighs my desire for petty vengeance. There are notes in my study. Check my bookshelf for a volume labeled ‘Mana Structures.’ Near the end I talk a little about mana imbalance, and indicate the correct rituals for manually balancing.

“Be very careful when balancing by pulling in magic from other Realms. More things can be pulled through than mana.”

“Thank you. Olivander, that is exactly what I was hoping to hear. Giles, I must take my leave. It was good to see you Olivander, I hope we get a chance to talk more soon.”

Amegnon pulled out his black grimoire and started drawing a long distance portal ritual, but Olivander waved it away.

“Allow me. Going back to the capital?” Olivander asked, waving open a portal.

“Yes, thank you, Olivander. Get in touch with me when you get to Mardareth…and I really am sorry.”

Amegnon stepped through the portal, and it winked shut.

* * *

Amegnon stepped out of a portal, and it closed behind him. He looked around, finding himself on top of a particularly tall mountain, on a rocky outcropping that dropped several hundred feet.

He looked down, and was pretty sure he could see several bodies on ground far below.

“Still an ass. I probably deserved that though.”

He started drawing his teleportation ritual again.