Miguela slept for almost twenty-four hours straight before waking up to eat dinner and sleeping again. She woke after nearly two days of sleep, feeling refreshed and clear-headed. After brushing the knots out of her hair, she got dressed and left her chambers. Today, Miguela decided she would go to the Archmage instead of waiting for him to find her as usual. She had questions that needed to be answered.

Miguela walked the halls of the compound, making her way to the Archmage’s office. She bumped into a few fellow Scryers, forcing her to stop for greetings and small talk before she could continue her mission. Miguela was able to keep her encounter short and returned to her march to the Archmage.

She arrived at the doors of his office and, before she lost her nerve, she used the knocker, rapping on the door loudly.

“Enter,” a voice from within said.

Miguela entered the room to find the Archmage sitting behind a simple desk, scratching away at a parchment. Archmage Belvi looked up as she walked through the door and smiled.

“Scryer Miguela, what a pleasant surprise. I was going to invite you to tea later to speak about your latest scrying,” he said, standing and gesturing to a seat in front of his desk.

The Archmage’s office was about the same size as the scryer chambers. She noticed that despite his taste in fine clothes and teas, the Archmage did not flaunt his status in his office. Except for a lone painting of some Arzan landscape with the twin suns just hovering near the horizon on the wall, the room did not have any other decor. Miguela was no art aficionado but had a decent eye for finer pieces, and without a doubt in her mind, the painting hanging on the wall was a fine piece.

“It is the view from my ancestral home. I had it commissioned to keep me company whenever I missed the simpler times of my life,” Archmage Belvi commented, noticing her admiring the piece.

“It is lovely,” she replied, deciding there would be no reason to deny gawking at his painting.

They both took a moment to settle into their seats. The Archmage opened a bottom drawer in the desk and produced a crystal bottle with an amber-colored liquid. He also pulled out two matching crystal jiggers.

“I know it is early, but considering your last assignment, I figured you could use something stronger than tea,” he explained, uncorking the bottle and pouring the jiggers almost to the top.

“Apple brandy from Rame. Do not let the sweetness fool you. It is quite potent,” Archmage Belvi said, taking a small sip as if he was showing her how to drink the brandy. Miguela nodded and took her polite sip. The brandy was sweet but left a burning sensation in her chest.

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“I read your report. You did fine work. The Five Kingdoms will be in your debt before this is all over,” the Archmage said after enjoying another small sip of the brandy.

“Do you know who those people were?” She asked. He frowned and shook his head.

“I do not, but they should be looked at as a serious threat. The Nawahl woman died ten days ago, making the intel fresh. So hopefully, the Warlord of Warlords can use the information to fend off the attacks they were planning,” Archmage Belvi answered.

“Have any other scryers reported such things?” Miguela asked.

“Fortunately or unfortunately, they have not,” he answered. Miguela nodded, satisfied with his answers.

“During my last scrying, I noticed something strange and wondered if you could shed some light on it,” she said.

“I will do my best,” Archmage Belvi replied, leaning forward in his seat.

“I noticed that I could not see the finer details. In the scrying for Philo, the details were sharp and complete. During Kloy’s scry, the important details were there, but I could not make out what the buildings were made of or even if they were homes or some other structures,” she explained the best she could.

“Ah, yes. I do not have a definite answer, but I have some theories. The theory I believe to be true is the person’s connection with the item. Philo’s medallion, for example, was probably a gift from his father, something that he treasured, therefore creating a strong bond with his identity,” he paused, allowing her time to digest his explanation.

“There are a few other things of note. A person’s natural affinity for an item could change the quality of a scry. If it is an item that a person is smitten with a new dress, boots, or whatever, the quality appears to become clearer. It also works in reverse if the person dislikes the item for whatever reason. The other thing is the item needs to be nearby at the time of death. The closer, the better. However, items with especially strong connections to their owner can be scried after death, even if they are leagues away and often with clear results. But it is best to remember that what we are doing is groundbreaking work, so I do not have answers for everything. However, hopefully with your help, perhaps we can find answers to more of them.”

Miguela’s head was swimming from the revelations of people’s souls connecting with inanimate objects. She wondered if one’s body seeped ley into the items, making the connection.

“I have not been to the Academy in years, but I recognize the look of a theory forming in a pupil’s head. Please share it with me,” Archmage Belvi said suddenly, breaking Miguela from her thoughts.

Miguela explained her theory, and the Archmage nodded along with her words.

“Brilliant. I came to the same conclusion myself, but hearing another mage come to the same conclusion helps confirm the possibility of it being true. You seem to have taken to this field of magik quite well, Scryer Miguela,” Archmage Belvi responded. Miguela felt her chest swell with pride that she came to the same conclusion as an Archmage.

“Have I answered your questions for the moment?” Archmage Belvi asked.

“Yes, thank you for indulging me,” Miguela replied.

“No, I am pleased to have someone who has committed themselves to understand this field of magik as well as you have. If you have any other questions or theories, make sure you come to me with them. Together we can make a mark on this world.”

Miguela did not know what to say. She was grateful for the confidence the Archmage was showing her, but she never thought of herself as the savior of the world.

Archmage Belvi laughed.

“I am not asking for your hand in marriage, Scryer Miguela. But I am asking that you continue to take your duties seriously, and hopefully, one day, you will realize what a gift you possess.”

Miguela was not so dense that she could not tell when she was being dismissed. She quickly stood, excusing herself. The Archmage also stood, walking her to the door. He opened the door for her, and just as she walked by him, he spoke.

“I noticed you have a scheduled visit, coming soon again. I think it would be best if you took the next two weeks off until your visitor comes. Use that time to relax,” he purposefully paused, looking her directly in the eyes before continuing.

“Scrying takes a toll on one’s soul.”