“I don’t trust him, your majesty. I received word from the High Magi that they’re waiting to see how he is received by the Dungeon Spirits at the upcoming conclave before making any descisions.”

Zemena “The Hammer” Corvin, Strong Right Hand of the Queen, knelt in the throne room of the royal palace at the base of a set of wide stairs. She was flanked by a retinue of guards, all wearing the blue and gold colors that matched the carpet leading up to the throne. Sunlight illuminated the room, diffused by stained glass murals that lined the wide hall. The windows depicted stories and legends of the past. Great foes that the kingdom had bested, and nebulous threats they had quelled.

“Rise, Zemena. It matters not that the Arch-magus is trustworthy. He is bound by oath to do what must be done for the betterment of the kingdom, as all Magi are.”

Queen Melina Astravian sat upon the throne resplendent in robes and jewelry in the royal colors. Her son and Crown Prince, Rolaf, stood to her left. Zemena absent from her right side since she was the one seeking an audience today.

The Queen looked disinterested. She clearly didn’t see Amegnon as a threat of any kind.

“The oaths taken by the Magi upon their ascension are vague and loose. Aside from attacking the kingdom directly, they have a lot of freedom, your majesty.”

“Freedom that they need to keep doing their jobs! I understand your concern, Zemena, but from my perspective, Amegnon has done the kingdom a great service. We have delt a powerful blow to the Verenci brutes, and quickly ended what might have been a costly and drawn out campaign. I know you do love the battlefield, but rest assured there will be more in your future.”

Great, who are we going to start a war with next? Zemena thought. She was a powerful combatant and did get some enjoyment out of a contest and directing armies, but she didn’t relish the thought of going out and having to kill more people. It was her job to be a protector, not an instrument of conquest.

This was one of the things she had worried most about whenever Olivander decided to retire. Now that he had been forced out of his role, the Queen saw an opportunity. The stubborn Arch-magus had refused to engage in any offensive action against their enemies. He stood fast against the Queen’s insistence. His father had been just as powerful, perhaps moreso in combat, but the Queen, and just about everyone else, had been terrified of the man.

When Olivander’s father fell, the powers of the world around them had sought to press their apparent weakness. Surely, the Astrivan Kingdom wouldn’t have had anyone so powerful to defend them again? Olivander dissuaded them of that notion, and the Queen thought she finally had a suitable piece with which to begin her conquest. Despite winning decisive victories against many of their neighbors, Olivander never accepted orders to push into their territory.

Now that the Queen had a new Arch-magus? Zemena didn’t know the man particularly well, but from what she had seen, he would be eager to take the fight wherever the Queen pointed.

Zemena tried once more to restrict the Arch-magus, but the Queen refused, and she was dismissed.

She bowed deeply and departed immediately. As soon as she was out of the throne room, she was cornered by a half dozen messengers. Such was life when she returned to the Capital. She was quickly able to sort out some requisition orders that sent three of the messengers sprinting back with her orders. One messenger was simply to inform her that the first of the Dungeon Spirit council was due to arrive tomorrow, two days before the conclave began, to inspect the site. She was expected to attend the inspection alongside Amegnon.

The last two messengers were more personal, one simply handed her a folded note and said it had been sent anonymously, and the last had a message from her father, Zuris, who was requesting that she meet him at home for dinner this evening. She sighed. She hadn’t visited her father since she’d been back in the capital. She was always busy, but decided to make time for it. She sent the last messenger away. Now it was time to get back to work.

* * *

“Zemena! You know, I don’t even remember the last time we got together for a meal!”

“It’s not as though I’ve seen you make a trip to the castle either, father,” she said, wrapping him in a hug.

Her childhood home was in the inner circle of the city, a sprawling manor that was provided to her father for being the head of a department at the Academy. He’d been teaching young magicians about magic since before she was born.

“I suppose we should probably both try to do better on that count.”

They made polite small talk before dinner and were mostly quiet during dinner, enjoying the meal. Her father sent all the servants away as they were finishing up.

“I must confess, Zemena, that I didn’t invite you here purely out of a desire to spend time togther, though that is always a treat, and was long overdue.”

Zemena wasn’t surprised. Her father, a long time professor and powerful magician in his own right, looked more like a warrior than scholar, but what he had always really been was a schemer. If he didn’t have at least two reasons to do something, he wouldn’t.

“The meal was fine, father, but poor payment for the time of the Queen’s Right Hand.” If he was going to scheme and get something out of the meeting, then she might as well do the same.

Her father’s eyes twinkled. He always enjoyed when she played this game. “Too true. Very well then, what can I, a humble professor, do for the great and powerful Strong Right Hand of the Queen?”

The opportunity had fallen into her lap quite nicely. It could be hard to arrange, but if there was one person who could make it happen while keeping it quiet, it was Zuris.

“I want to set up a quiet meeting with Olivander Casumus. I know it’s a big ask, but I also know you might be the only person who can make it happen without half the Magi knowing about it.”

Her father barked a laugh. “Oh, fate smiles upon you, daughter. You’re going to love this.”

Zuris pulled out a small glowing blue rod, and then cracked it.

A portal opened next to him, and Olivander Casumus walked out, holding a plate with pie on it.

“Zemena! Always a pleasure. Have you two had dessert yet? Come, you have to try this pie.”

Zemena’s mouth was hanging open with surprise as the former Arch-magus departed, and her father laughed.

“Olivander wanted me to set up a meeting with you, as it happens. I’m glad I didn’t refuse. I guess we should go through the portal?”

Zemena composed herself and took a deep, steadying breath. It had been several months since she last had to interact with Olivander. The experience could be a lot, and she never quite knew what she would get herself into when she did decide to visit the man or ask for his council. Standing up, she shrugged at her father, a non-committal gesture that she would only use in front of family. For everyone else, she had a mask of hard confidence.

She stepped through the portal.

She found herself inside a raucous dinning room with several people. Olivander chatted with a goblin, both enjoying their pie, and a group of clearly related people sat farther down the table, arguing about something. The people were tall, even taller than she was, and the big man at the end of the table would even dwarf her father. Zuris passed through the portal behind her, and it winked shut. Following Olivander through a portal was never a safe proposition.

“Ah-hem! Excuse me!” Olivander said, but the group of people were still shouting at one another. He gave Zemena a helpless shrug and a floating book manifested in the air next to him. With a few flicks of his finger and some movement of power, a loud clap of air interrupted the family.

“Sorry, everyone. We have guests! May I present Professor Zuris Corvin, a man who teaches idiots how to turn things into other things at a place that people insist on calling a school, but I’m pretty sure is just a front for money laundering. And the woman with the angry expression next to him is his daughter, Zemena Corvin, also known as ‘The Hammer,’ Strong Right Hand of the Queen. I’m not entirely sure what her job is. Picking up stuff for the Queen? Punching people? Definitely punching people.”

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“Olivander,” the tall, older woman at the end of the table scolded him. “Don’t be rude to our guests. It’s lovely to meet you, Zuris and Zemena. We were just having some pie, please do sit and have some! I’m Helena, this is Burtrum, Helga, Zeke, and Timothy. The little ones here are Rebecca and Annebell. You already know Olivander, and that’s Fezzic.”

Zemena’s head swam with all the names and people. The family turned back to their argument, though they were talking in must lowered voices, and without so much passion. Olivander gestured for them to sit, and then passed them a couple plates when they did.

Zemena ignored the pie, but her father dug in.

“Oh, that is a good pie.”

“Timothy there is really a top tier cook. He’s still searching for his advanced specialization, but what he can do in the meantime is, frankly, remarkable.”

A small floating figure drifted in from the kitchen. “I’ve been analyzing all his recipes, but I haven’t figured out how he can improvise so well without a skill.”

“This is Sous, my personal assistant.”

Sous swept a tiny bow at both of them and sat down at the table to watch them eat. It was a little unnerving.

“Are you not going to eat that?” the golem asked her.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not hungry.”

Sous turned to Olivander with a shocked expression. “You never told me that people could be not hungry!”

“Well, with Gregory and Cooper around, it honestly never came up.”

Zemena pushed the pate toward the golem. “Do you want it?”

“I don’t eat. It’s a shame, really. A feast golem that can’t actually feast. Hey, boss, do you think you can modify me so I can eat stuff?”

Olivander considered the question for far longer than Zemena thought was neccessary.

“I don’t think so. It just introduces a whole host of other problems.”

Sous deflated slightly, starring with a forlorn expression at the uneaten pie.

Zemena took another calming breath. She wanted to meet with Olivander, so she could put up with a little of his nonsense.

“So, you’re a professor?” the goblin asked her father.

“Indeed. Despite what Olivander says, the Academy is a fine institue for higher education in both magical and mundane arts. I run the Transmutation department.”

“Oh nice. I’m an alchemist, but Transmutation would be pretty useful for a lot of things I do.”

“Do you have an alchemist class? There are combat and non-combat Transmutation classes, but the non-combat variety does have some crossover with Alchemy. There’s a chance you could unlock it with the right focus.”

“Really? That would be amazing.”

Zemena tuned out the conversation, and Olivander met her eye and pointed to another room. She nodded and they left the conversations behind.

The room was a small study with an unorganized desk full of paperwork and some minor trophies and nic-nacs from hunts. Someone who lived here was an adventurer.

They sat in a corner of the room away from the desk at two comfortable chairs.

“Thank you for meeting with me, Zemena. I honestly wasn’t sure if you would.”

“I am curious what it is you want from me.”

“Did your father not paint the broad strokes? I thought he would have needed to before you agreed.”

She wasn’t particularly good at keeping her cards close to her chest. It just wasn’t her strong suit. She decided to opt for basic honesty.

“I was actually hoping to meet with you and wanted my father to set something up. I was a little surprised when he seemed to be able to immidiately summon you.”

“Ahh, that explains the face! Er. Ahem. Nothing to worry about. You have a fine face. One I’m sure any…man?...would love.”

She gave him a flat look.

“Right you are, back to the topic at hand. I’m worried about my successor. I traveled to the battlefield near Verenci where that dungeon breached. I could tell you were there.”

Olivander was one of the few who knew some of her combat secrets, so she wasn’t surprised he had known she was there.

“I was there. Maybe five days after Amegnon created the dungeon.”

“So he did definitely create it.”

She nodded. “I gave him a stern lecture and made him return to the capital. He seemed to know roughly about balance and how dungeons work, but he was woefully ignorant of the consequences of his actions.”

Olivander grimaced. “Bah, I’ve handled this all so badly. I never taught him any of it before he became a Magus. I always thought that he might, someday, want to replace me, but I was planning on waiting until after he had become a Magus to start with any of it. So much is related to the Realm of Madness that it almost doesn’t make sense to start learning about it until you’ve been tempered by madness yourself.”

Zemena had never been to the Realm of Madness, but a brief trip to the pits had been enough to know she would never willingly go inside. The name was well earned.

“Surely the High Magi can teach him.”

“They can, though only Lucindre and Tocks know the deeper secrets. Lucindre would probably refuse after the dungeon breach incident, and Tocks is one page shy of needing to be committed, so I wouldn’t trust her to do it.”

“Will you do it then? Teach him what he needs to know?”

She was curious about his answer. She didn’t want Amegnon to be taught. Honestly, she wanted to remove him but worried about taking unilateral action. But if Olivander thought teaching him was the right thing to do, she wouldn’t protest.

“What happened when the dungeon breached on the Verenci battlefield?”

“Why, what suspicions do you have?”

“I’m all too happy to share once I know all the facts.”

It was all too like Olivander to make some kind of inference and then tell no one else. He wouldn’t be able to act on his own here though. She wouldn’t allow it. Either they worked together, or did nothing.

She told him about how the dungeon breached after she lectured Amegnon. She told him of the battle and the creatures that emerged from the dungeon. Finally she came to the part she had the most concerns about. The corrupted dungeon spirit.

“Amegnon somehow sealed all the rifts to the dungeon. He claimed there would be one more powerful opponent. It was indeed strong, but between the two of us it was a small challenge. ”

“Effandrial…” Olivander whispered.

“What’s that?”

“The Dungeon Spirit that was sent to get the dungeon under control, Effandrial. He was young for a dungeon spirit, and his power hadn’t yet matured. He would be the one who you fought. Amegnon closed all the open rifts? How?”

“He didn’t elaborate, but he said he was able to bleed off some power to make it happen.”

Olivander scoffed. “If Amegnon bled off enough power to close all the rifts of a dungeon breach then the entire region would be nothing more than a screaming hole into the void, and everyone there would have been dead. It’s not possible.”

“So what did he do?”

“I have no idea.”

Zemena had rarely, if ever, heard those words from the Magus. He wasn’t that much older than she was, but he always seemed to have an air of wisdom and knowledge about himself. Olivander stood up and began pacing.

“I suspected he might have gone mad. Courting madness is a dangerous path, but there are safeguards…although.”

“Although?”

“When we Magi travel to the Realm of Madness for the Eyes of power we use, we’re tested. Those who are unfit to handle the strain it puts on the mind are rejected. It ordinarily wouldn’t be possible for Amegnon to have been corrupted by madness so quickly.”

“And this testing method is that foolproof?”

“Normally? Yes. It’s still possible to go mad, of course, but it requires dangerous expenditures of power over years.”

Olivander stared at nothing, lost in thought.

“But something has changed?”

“The being responsible for testing might be losing it’s own grip on sanity, tenuous as it was. It might have given Amegnon an Eye regardless.”

“And what’s the alternative? He’s not mad and has some kind of plan?”

“Indeed. I didn’t speak with him for long last we met, but he seemed rational enough. As rational as he’s always been.”

Zemena could agree with that. Amegnon was an eel, but he didn’t seem to be a madman.

“I haven’t seen any signs of madness.”

“Damn. That was my hope.”

“You wanted your apprentice to be mad?”

“Sure. Mad, we can fix. Break his connection to his Grimoire. It’s not easy, but it’s been done many times. If he’s not mad then I don’t know what he’s doing or why. That is a much more dangerous possibility.”

It was time to get the man to commit to something.

“He’s clearly up to something. Where do you stand? Should we remove him?”

Olivander looked pained but nodded once.

“I worry about acting so directly. I’m not looking to lose my head, but something must be done.”

“You think the Queen would act against you if I support your actions and even take part in it?”

“I’m not willing to take the risk. No, we need to do this by the book. If I use the same trick Amegnon did, he won’t have a choice, and the Queen will be unable to refute my claim. Not without changing the rules. Do you know how the council feels?”

“Their vote on him was pretty split after his dungeon stunt, with three very strong dissenters.”

“So it’s unlikely they would move to keep him over me.”

“Do you think you can win? I didn’t see your last duel, but from what I heard you didn’t make a good showing.”

“I'm reasonably sure I can win, but I have one big unknown.”

“And that is?”

“I don’t know what his Eye can do.”