“I take it you are aware why we are here?”

A truly curious crowd was gathered in his study. Though arguably, as it was the city council perhaps it was indeed less curious than it usually would be. On the left side the remaining three representatives of the dark faction and even those weren’t all that dark to begin with. The other nine were all more light oriented, another sign of the balance having become entirely too one-sided.

Directly in front of him was the chairman, as the council was usually made up of an uneven number. On first glance one might be left wondering how such a man had attained such a position as he was wearing a typical garb of healers. Alistair though could see enough. Yes, it might be a standard garb, but how and what magical gems had been sewn were told him of great mastery in exorcism and banning magic. His drawn face and general stance exuded a certain harshness and determination that often enough were important factors for a leader to have. Though Alistair knew his type, the guy was as agreeable to compromise as a lion was a vegetarian.

What was his name again? Something with Bi… Ba… Be… No, rather something with Bo…

“Indeed. What an exceptional shame it would have been, had I not already known what you would have wanted to do. Terribly embarrassing indeed, not having been ready despite that,” Alistair chided though it sounded rather amused.

“Spare me the theatrics, Chronomagus!” interrupted the chairman’s shrill falsetto harshly. “The boy is destined to become a mentor! Thanks to you that destiny is in pieces! You will rue…”

Alistair didn’t bother listening to the chairman’s escalating diatribe, growing more disinterested by each passing word. It was an old discussion with the faces spewing their idiocy at him the only thing changing. There were few who could follow his thoughts and arguments and even fewer of those even tried. Alas, some of these spawns of impudence really had a talent for purposefully sending him on the warpath.

“… leaving the question how you could overstep your competence like this!” sneered the chairman bitingly. Ah, Bodkins, now he remembered.

With the name Alistair was close to snorting. Yes, he knew the idiot and his ilk well. No nuance in anything and whatever ran contrary to his opinion was categorically false. Black and white thinking if there was thinking involved in the first place. Bedeveling what he regarded as bad and nothing else. Not even mentioning someone even slightly disagreeing with one such as him.

“You want to talk about competence?” pondered, raising an eyebrow. He kept right on, the question was a rhetorical after all. “Who do you think you are? I am quite tired of your presumptuousness. Day in and day out I am bringing together people with books, sometimes the other way around. A task I am taking very seriously, fulfilling it with great diligence and care.

“Unlike the one you called a mentor. Wasn’t he supposed to step into the boy’s life shortly after his birth? If not then at the latest by his fourth springtide, no? Or was he above the commonly agreed upon rules? Oh, silly me, forgetting you standing above such itty-bitty things.”

His aura gathered around him, so condensed it became visible to the naked eye. Many of his tools and knickknacks nearby began whirring and whistling, pulsing in unholy luminescence. Pale skin seemed transparent, bared teeth a sharp contrast to blue veins. The crystals on head and clothing shimmered with primordial energy, a muted crackling resounding.

“Destiny might be many things, but neither is it encompassing, nor universally valid. If it was you smart aleck wouldn’t be existing in the first place as this city would never have come into existence. What about that one you forced into this so-called destiny? Sent his first mentee into certain death, having to behead the second one with his own bare hands!” Alistair hissed accusatory, his voice a distorted reflection of his power.

“As if that has any bearing here!” Bodkins growled.

With a sly grin Alistair picked up one of the whirring apparatuses, seemingly randomly turning a cog here, fiddling with a crown there, pressing a pusher on that point. It flashed four times, the last bright as the sun for but a moment. “On the contrary. In my opinion it matters very much. Wasn’t it your so highly praised pupil, that you had sent on the path of being a mentor instead of his chosen profession? Inglaus was his name, wasn’t it?”

Sneering sardonically he put the now quiet gadget in a pocket. He turned around, taking another flickering chronometer down the wall. His continued mockingly, “A bright boy, quick and eager to learn, even more eager to please, with a good heart, wasn’t he? But certainly a bit...”

The small watch rattled, its hands first speeding up before erratically jumping from one place to another. Suddenly it turned dark, showing no movement at all.

“... naive. I had a book that was intended for him, you know.”

The phrasing here was a bit of an important thing, not that the idiot would even understand. Yes, he had had that book. It was well on his way to his intended target, as he had seen fit to put it in Nics care for the time being, as he had known the boy would be meeting him sooner or later. It wasn’t the first time he would have been doing things this way and it certainly wouldn’t be he last time.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Bodkins was obviously wanting to retort something inane but finally seemed to notice himself being unable to as much as twitch even the tiniest muscle. Though besides those arguably needed for breathing that is. Cold sweat appeared on his brow, the whole group seemed to be suffering the same thing.

“Pretty – ah, how did you call them? – toys, no? At least you will be able to listen to my speech without disruption. Let’s hope at least something will stick, yes?” Alistair pointed out coldly. He started pacing slowly, seemingly deep in thought, before he abruptly faced Bodkins.

“So, where was I? Ah, yes. Inglaus. I had been waiting for him for quite some time back then already you have to know. But – we never met. And now you want to what? You want to repeat the same mistake and screw the boy over? I really am wondering where the usual brilliance has gone to that normally is associated with magicians with you lot. Coincidentally, I am keenly interested what kind of stupidity has afflicted you to believe being able to break the pact without killing the lad.”

Carefully Alistair regarded his guests. Bodkins seemed aware what he was implying but seemed cocksure to have a solution. The few dark magicians did not seem overly surprised, but the light ones did exude horrified fear underneath the magically induced stillness.

Snorting contemptuously he got back to pacing. He could deal with a lot, but such blatant ignorance was unforgivable. He hated such with every fiber of his being. “A pact of this nature, sealed in one’s own blood, can just be broken by death. And if even one of you believe to be able to kill such a being you will realize soon enough how mistaken that notion is, and I really despair when thinking about the wisdom our so-called council is supposed to possess. Interference in such old magic is often connected to a price nobody wants to pay quite readily. In your stead I would leave well enough alone.”

All of a sudden Alistair threw the device appearing readily in his hand. Whirring it sailed through the air, narrowly missing Bodkins’ head. Crashing on the wall it burst, sending parts and sparks flying, followed by shrill shrieking sound. Irritated the council members noticed that they were able to move again. Bodkins signaled them to hold their horses though, lest they invited trouble on the wrong place. It would be foolhardy to challenge one as this particular Chronomagus, especially in his own home. Not without a plan at least and they had none that could be executed on the spot like that.

“Mark my words, you will pay for this,” Bodkins sneered, just about ready to spit fire and brimstone.

Alistair kept a close eye on his leaving guests. In the moment the last of them had exited the borders of his shields he stepped to his desk and opened a slim compartment beneath the desktop. Inside were several different disks made out of a variety of materials. Metal, porcelain, stone and other more outlandish things. They were inscribed with runes that many regarded as lost or exotic at best if they even recognized them, stylized zodiac signs and other symbols, some carved, some branded or added with other material. With flying fingers he turned that one, then tweaked the next, it went click or wrrr, there it started to gleam, here it started humming. As he finished a secret compartment appeared, raising a switch to the surface. He turned it over and just nary a moment later a loud clack rang through the whole building.

At that point Deva appeared, seemingly stepping out of the wall. She had brought a bottle and a chalice. “Was that really a good idea, master? We won’t be able to have any visitors with this setting.”

Calmly Alistair sat down, the desk having returned to its former pristine state, as if nothing had happened at all. Sighing he beckoned the girl over. Deva filled the chalice with practiced ease and handed it to the languished Chronomagus.

“Under normal circumstances I would not have wanted to have taken these steps, but alas, normally I wouldn’t have had to anticipate the council having been wanting to regard the matter as so grave either. That harebrained doggedness regarding things that have never been that assured at any time given...” he openly conceded. “Well, visitors will be visiting, they just will have to have found another way.”

Deva nodded, suddenly frowning. In the corner she noticed a forgotten lonesome parchment. She picked it up deftly and opened it. Blinking she took another look. Still holding it in her hands she turned to Alistair, showing him the thing. “Master, didn’t you intend to hand this map over to the boy?”

“Oh, dear me. So that was what I already knew days ago what I would have forgotten.”