"You do not need to be here Young Master Rahm." Mandor sighs, leaning back in the covered, unmarked carriage as it makes its way down the cobbled streets of Deshawn City.

Mills sinks deeper into his seat, ignoring Mandor's disapproval, while fidgeting with a plain iron ring that adorns his middle finger. Mills finally decides to fold his arms and close his eyes, hoping that Mandor gets the message and stops with the nagging. Nothing is that easy of course.

"In fact, Young Master," Mandor powers on, heedless of Mills' growing irritation, "you should not be here at all. Its an unwarranted risk."

"I need to do this." Mills says grimly, "And you're not going to dissuade me."

"You're not going to be doing anything." Mandor grins, "Everything will be handled by yours truly."

"You know what I mean." Mills scowls, "I need to be here. Both for myself and for what is to come. This ring of invisibility works as you claimed right?"

"Naturally. We forged it using the logoo, didn't we?" Mandor smirks, waving away Mills' worries.

"Logos. The words of the Creator Gods are called the Logos." Mills grumbles, "And I'm sure you're deliberately getting the word wrong just to be funny with me."

"That ring of invisibility is the strongest magical artifact currently in Deshawn City." Mandor scoffs, "Such a simple thing to make, isn't it? Once you use the Logos of course."

Mills silently contemplates the cheap iron ring on his finger, reflecting on Mandor's words. Nobles and knights would bid fortunes for the right to own this ring of invisibility. The concealment it granted was perfect and immune to any kind of dispel magic. But Mandor was right. Forging the ring was a trivial, if rather costly, matter for the Order of Impartial Justice. For within the Logos they possessed was the power of Ea himself. Mills shuddered at the memory of how much magical energy was poured into the iron ring during the enchantment process to achieve a feat deemed impossible.

"That being said," Mandor continues, "you should not come into the Robeur Keep with me. Its for your own safety."

"And why not?" Mills demands unhappily.

"Does time wait for man?" Mandor asks rhetorically, "Or does it move on its own accord?"

Mills folds his arms defensively at Mandor's remark, knowing what the Order Sword Master is getting at.

"Young Master, did you attend school because you became of age," Mandor raises an eyebrow, "or did you grow older because you attended school?"

"The days keep passing, whether we want them to or not." Mills rebuts, a sheen of sweat building on his forehead.

"But do the days and nights matter to us?" Mandor presses, "Does it matter at all to time? Don't be foolish, you know this better than I do."

"Yes." Mills reluctantly admits, "Time waits for all of us, until we are ready to face it."

"And that's why you should not enter Robeur Keep with me." Mandor says, "We have kept time in abeyance for so long already. Your presence, whether or not it is detected, might be the trigger time needs to move forward once more."

"I know." Mills concedes despondently, "Its just ... difficult ... not to confront Henrik. The person who was created to be my doom."

"And as long as time does not move forward, Henrik is nothing." Mandor urges, "You are lucky Young Master Rahm, managing to extract the Logos that governs your life. Without it, the world cannot birth another you to take your place."

"I hate this." Mills clenches his fists hard, nails digging painfully into his palms, "Why would Ea do this? Create someone solely to be destroyed?"

"You know the answer to that question." Mandor shakes his head, "It won't change no matter how many times you ask it. And well, you also know what's going to happen eventually. To all of us."

"Can we manage it though?" Mills dabs the sweat of his brow with a sleeve, "Save ourselves before the Creator Gods lose patience and return?"

"We can only try." Mandor solemnly declares, "The Sage said it is possible. The Logos contain power that can be subverted to meet our needs. That's why we must extract as many Logos as possible, while we still can."

"And what do you plan to do with Mac?" Mills asks as the carriage stops before the great hall of House Robeur with a jolt, "I know you've been keeping track of him ever since that day."

"Funny story actually." Mandor smiles, "Our dear friend had actually squared off against his replacement. Right here in Deshawn City in fact."

"Is it going to be a problem?" Mills chews his lip nervously.

"I don't think so." Mandor denies, "At least not for us. Mac Nair's replacement is unstable. The gendarme is claiming that he's the Midnight Stabber."

"That's not right." Mills exclaims, "The scrolls say nothing about the Sword Master becoming an insane killer."

"I've a theory." Mandor muses, "And the Logos seem to back it up as well."

"So what is it?" Mills replies, "Things are already complicated enough as they are. Mac becoming an unknown factor is now what we need."

"The raid on the King of the Mountain." Mandor explains, "I think that's what caused Mac's replacement to break."

"Oh gods." Mills breathes, "We extracted the Logos there, didn't we? So Mac's double would have went to the bandit fort to perform the destined rescue of his childhood friend -"

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

"And without the Logos triggering as it was supposed to," Mandor concludes, "Mac's replacement broke. The rescue would have been utterly impossible, not without the power the Logos was meant to grant him."

"He's grinding." Mills gushes as everything starts to come together, "Mac's replacement is grinding. Like how the old scrolls described."

"And its not going to help." Mandor declares, "The King of the Mountain is impossible to defeat without the power of the Logos. Our raid only succeeded because the Order brought its own Logos to even the odds."

"So, you plan to just leave Mac be?" Mills quizzes, "We should make contact again, bring him in. Mac's one of us now."

"Mac needs to understand things for himself first." Mandor demurs, "The same way you only accepted the truth after you saw it with your own eyes."

"And how long will that take?" Mills presses his companion, "Time might wait for us, but the gods exist outside of it."

"We can't rush this." Mandor insists, "Mac would not accept what we say now anyway. At any rate, our plans don't exactly need him. Though Mac's presence certainly would not hurt."

"Alright." Mills settles down, nodding his agreement, "We'll do it your way then."

"And the other thing?" Mandor asks, giving the Young Master a meaningful look.

"Fine. I'll stay here in the carriage. Like a good boy." Mills throws up both arms in distress.

"A good boy." Mandor guffaws as he opens the door of the carriage, "How old are you actually, Young Master Rahm?"

"You know the answer." Mills remarks sourly, "You mock me all the time with 'young master this' and 'young master that'."

"If we count the days and nights, yes, I do know your real age." Mandor grins mirthfully, "Though I suspect that you stopped maturing when time stopped."

"I'm young at heart." Mills cracks back with a lopsided smirk, "Regret not knowing the truth until you became old, Mandor?"

"Yes." the old man admits, "Like I said before, you've been lucky Young Master Rahm, all things considered."

The Order sword master shuts the door of the carriage with a click and turns to the open double doors of the great hall of House Robeur. Several carriages have been parked side by side, with the last of the guests making their way into the building. House Robeur Knights line the grounds, backed up by a contingent of mundane guards dispatched by House Rahm.

A line of lavishly dressed men and women trail through the cavernous maw of the doors that lead into the great hall. Mandor unconstructively joins the end of the line, his simple garb of a leather battle jacket and long trousers immediately drawing attention of both the guests and the guards. But it is the pouch hanging from Mandor's back that raises the hackles of the Robeur knights.

"What is the Order doing here?" one of the knights demands, holding up an arm to bar Mandor's progress.

"Business." the old man shrugs and shows Mills' seal to the knight, "Here on behalf of my employer."

"Fine. Go in then." the knight says threateningly, "But cause no trouble. We know all about the Order and your antics."

Mandor merely waves at the glowering guard and makes his way into the hall itself, several rows of seats already occupied by the various dignitaries in attendance. And on the stage of the hall, stands a powerfully built elderly man, close to Mandor's age, his snowy white hair swept back and a well groomed mustache accessorizing the man's chin. A military uniform, heavy with medals, is all Mandor needs to identify the host of today's event.

Knight Commander Robeur of House Robeur.

The Knight Commander steps forward and coughs, getting the attention of all the guests. Mandor leans against the wall , making himself comfortable and waiting for the show to start.

"Honored guests of House Robeur and House Rahm," the Knight Commander booms from the stage, "We are here today to bear witness!"

Applause resounds across the great hall, with all the guests clapping enthusiastically. Mandor stifles a smile, his time to shine has not come just yet.

"Majordomo of House Rahm, please." the Knight Commander invites and a bespectacled balding man dressed in a suit climbs up to the stage as well. The majordomo smiles, causing the wrinkles on his face to crease and clasps both hands together expectantly.

"Battle Mage Henrik!" the Knight Commander orders, "Attend to us!"

A hush falls over the hall as a young man with delicate, educated features rises from his seat and walks to the side of the Knight Commander. Henrik bows formally to the Knight Commander and the majordomo, his formal robe gracefully sweeping around his body.

"Henrik, a grave injustice was done to you and your mother." the majordomo rasps in his aged voice, "But the patriarch's order stands, neither of you were to see the light of day again."

"Henrik is here as a knight of Robeur." the Knight Commander replies, as Henrik maintains his bow, awaiting judgment, "I took him as my ward. And no knight of Robeur is bound by the order of another noble house."

"Indeed." the majordomo confirms, "Honor demands that a knight defend his prestige."

"I am willing to defend myself," Henrik declares strongly, "through trial by combat. My life will prove my mother's innocence."

"A concubine's adultery is a serious charge. Even more so the birth of a child from that adultery." the majordomo agrees, "But a knight has the right to face his accuser."

"So be it!" the Knight Commander cries out and the guards begin thumping their feet in unison.

"But my mother's accuser is dead." Henrik says, his gaze sharp.

"Her son still lives." the majordomo answers, "He took your place in House Rahm after your exile. So he will answer your challenge."

"I have no objection." Henrik replies with a thin smile.

"Mills Rahm!" the majordomo shouts, "Attend to us!"

A low rumble passes through the spectators, but no one responds to the call. The three men on stage all nod, as if expecting this result.

"As Mills has chosen to be absent, despite being summoned," the Knight Commander continues, "I declare that he has forfeited his -"

"WAIT!" Mandor shouts and swaggers up the stage, pushing aside the guard that tried to block his way.

"And you are?" the Knight Commander frowns.

"Mandor, of the Order of Impartial Justice." the order sword master smiles, "Mills Rahm is my client."

"The Order has no business here." the majordomo sniffs, "Unless they are willing to formally declare war against House Robeur, of course."

"Nothing of that sort." Mandor chuckles, "I'm not here for the challenge, or duel, or whatever this is. I'm just here to pass a message from the Order."

"Which is?" Henrik asks guardedly.

"We had been hired to provide security for a dig site in the Beyond where Mills Rahm worked." Mandor begins, "Unfortunately the site was attacked by monsters."

"We know about the attack." the Knight Commander confirms, "House Robeur received an urgent request for aid."

"Yes. But the attack seems to have succeeded." Mandor shakes his head regretfully, "The entire site was burned down. I've good news though. We did not find Mills Rahm's corpse in the wreckage."

"I see ..." Henrik responds, shifting uneasily.

"So the Order would like to confirm that Mills Rahm is presumed to be alive." Mandor stands at ease, radiating smugness, "We will spare no effort in finding our client out there in the Beyond."

"This challenge will proceed!" the Knight Commander snaps.

"And it will. Once the Order has located Mills Rahm." Mandor smirks, "Or after ten years from now when he is declared legally dead. Whichever comes first."

"Are you trying to make a fool out of us, sirrah?" the majordomo demands.

"Are you calling me a liar?" Mandor shoots back with a shocked expression, "Is the honor of the Order of Impartial Justice being called into question?"

"I ... no ... certainly not." the Knight Commander says cautiously, "We should adjourn for now and discuss the matter further."

"No. I've said my piece." Mandor rebuffs, "There's nothing else for us to discuss. Any challenges can be sent to Temple."

With that Mandor strides down the stage, head held high as the guests watch on in shocked silence.

.....

GENERATING LOG ...

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