“Closer, but not quite there.” Sashro was exhausted, but he continued to assist his master. He was yawning and trying to keep himself propped up on his staff while the dragonkin cast “Arcane Disguise” on himself over… and over… and over.

Christoph currently appeared as a nearly two-meter tall (shorter than he actually was thanks to the illusion) hunchback that still had a tail, misshaped limbs, and a face that resembled a human’s stretched out with an animalistic muzzle. It was rather grotesque. Sashro truly wanted to assist his master, but the spell had been cast over and over again for almost two hours without rest, and he’d only slept a handful of hours in the last two days since his master’s resurrection.

“It’s awful, isn’t it?” Christoph turned toward a mirror that had been brought to the arena for his use. “Oh my.” He was not proud of what he saw. Most would run in terror at seeing him. He even flinched a bit when he found his drooping, too-large eyes staring back at him. “That’s not right at all. And this was closer?”

Sashro shrugged and tried to muster all of his energy toward staying awake. He doesn’t need to sleep. I need to be ever vigilant to assist when he needs me. “In honesty, it is far better than your last attempt.”

Christoph shuddered at the thought of what could be worse than this malformed monstrosity. He probably won’t be able to sleep thinking about this. “I need to learn this spell.”

Sashro understood what he must have meant. Learning a spell to disguise oneself was an arcane user’s best option when trying to remain out of the public eye. The question was more to do with where he intended to go.

“Might I inquire, Master, where you will be going that your glory must be hidden?”

“I do not intend to remain secluded in this mountain. We have men out in the cities as well, don’t we?” Recalling some of his discussions with Corallan, he played it as if he knew.

“Indeed, Sir.” Sashro smiled tiredly. “Some of my own men are working hard to gather supplies and information. The occasional problem that might arise from the cities and empire are quickly stomped out. We only send the best.”

“Indeed.” Christoph nodded, trying to stop from looking at the mirror. Just like some horrible accident, it is hard for a human to take their eyes off of it. “I’d like to walk among the humans as well. Pretending to be someone else would be easier than trying to speak with them as this.” He motioned to himself.

“Perhaps your marvelous person would be more welcomed than that.” Sashro tried to restrain himself as he mocked the outcome of the spell.

A low laugh growled out of the illusionary monster. “Ha! Yes, perhaps it would. I still believe an acceptable disguise would be the best option.”

“Of course, my Master. Where will you go?” Sashro inquired out of general curiosity. “We would gladly gather the best available to escort you.”

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“That won’t be necessary.” Christoph glanced back at the mirror in an attempt to distinguish what features looked somewhat acceptable and where he needed to focus on improvement—there wasn’t much that was acceptable.

“Lord Gohdin, please accept my apology, but we cannot simply let you go out alone. Even among your own people, we shall guard you.” Sashro bowed again, though it looked more like he was about to fall asleep against his staff. “We must protect our king against all dangers.”

Protection? What are they expecting to happen? “If there was any trouble, I’d just disguise myself as something like this. That should scare away any threat.” He tried to make light of it. Sashro did smile wearily, but he bowed his head again.

“Please, I do request you permit us to send a team with you.”

“How about one?”

“A group of four?”

“I will permit two.” Christoph had a feeling he was losing ground, so gave in a bit while using that deep voice. He probably lost some of his standing while trying to negotiate looking like a giant slowly melting away.

“Agreeable, my Master.”

Christoph waved his arm and the spell dissipated. The large dragonkin looked down at his servant with a sharp-toothed grin. “Are you always so difficult?”

Sashro could barely keep his eyes open. He wasn’t an old man, but he wasn’t young either. The hours were weighing on him, and the mental strain of serving while casting magic had caught up to him. “For your protection and elevation, yes.”

“Hm.” Christoph could see the lack of energy in the man. I really need to get a better grip on time. I can’t push him like that. “Then you are dismissed for now. Have two of your choice, passing as human, join me in the,” he had to think about the words, “Sanctum Mortem.” He waited for Sashro to nod slowly at his request. “I will be training throughout the night. Have them meet me in the morning.”

“It shall be done.” Sashro bowed as deeply as he could without feeling he’d fall. From there, he moved through the dummies of the arena toward an exit—now confident his master knew the best routes. Their master was left to his practice as he desired.

Gohdin waved back to the old man that never turned his back upon exiting. It wasn’t a wave for the King, but to the seven practitioners of magic hiding quietly in the shadows of the entrance.

“Arcane Disguise!” Gohdin cast the ability again, but the face hung off of him as if it were human flesh draped over his scales. Even knowing it to be an illusion, this sight was disturbing. Christoph flinched away from the mirror and cancelled the spell.

“Cancelling it is easy. Making it work, not so much.” He pulled his book up from his side and skimmed through the notes. He continued on throughout the night as the city worked, slept, or rested between shifts. None would use the arena while the master practiced… or rather, none were permitted.

Save one giggling creature who’d scaled the arena’s outer wall to watch. He’d been lucky he’d thought using the front door would get him caught. One set of goblin eyes watched from the shadows.

“Arcane Disguise!”