The first thing Aiden did when Ded came back was leave the inn. It was late in the evening with night creeping in from around the corner.

Ded returned with some snacks and was talking about ordering a proper meal when he walked into the room and found Aiden putting his torn shirt on. He argued that Aiden couldn’t leave in such tattered clothing and that he could step out and buy something more presentable for their departure.

Aiden’s response was a deep sigh and a quick stroll out of the room. His dress code had drawn a few eyes at the checkout point but nothing too serious. This was the capital city, practically infested with adventurers here and there. A man in bandages and tattered clothes wasn’t that big a deal.

Even if he was, he wouldn’t be a big deal for too long.

Instead of getting a jepat to ride to the castle, Aiden settled for a stroll. It wasn’t everyday he could just enjoy the outside air without worrying about what would happen next. He’d spent so long in his old life looking over his shoulders everyday. When he was a fugitive, he worried someone would try and capture him for the bounty on his head. When he was in the Order he had been worried that someone would realize he was from the Order and stab him in the back.

Unreasonable fears, but fears were rarely ever reasonable.

Ded walked beside him, competent as could be expected of any soldier. But Aiden could see the worry in the man’s eyes, the way they darted about frantically. Ded was making sure no one would jump them for one stupid reason or the other while also making sure they weren’t spotted by someone who shouldn’t spot them.

Aiden wondered at that. He doubted this far into their summoning that there was anyone that would spot him outside the palace and recognize him. After all, it would be a while before even the nobles found out about the summoning.

He always wondered how so many knights were present at their summoning and yet no rumors of him and the others had left the palace for so long. It said a lot about their control. For knights and soldiers and scribes, Aiden could understand, but there were maids and chefs so that didn’t make much sense.

“There’s a tailor just around the corner,” Ded said, interrupting Aiden’s thoughts. “I’m sure we can get you something befitting of your status before we get back to the palace, Lord Lacheart.”

Aiden held back a chuckle. It was funny having someone with a significantly higher level than his fidget over him so much.

Now that he thought about it, their level disparity wasn’t so much anymore. He was a level 11 now, which meant Ded was only eight levels above him.

In a matter of time I’ll be stronger than him.

“My Lord?” Ded asked when he got no answer.

Aiden turned his head, looked around. “Yes, Ded.”

He couldn’t see any sign that there could possibly be a tailor’s shop around. He did see a hair salon, though.

“I can find a tailor’s shop for you to get some clothes,” Ded told him.

“That will not be necessary.” Aiden touched his hair, checked its length. “Instead, what do you think about my hair?”

Ded took one quick look at it. “It is beautiful, my Lord. A little unkempt, but that is to be expected.”

Aiden laughed as they took a turn down another path and the number of passersby dwindled. “I’m not looking for compliments, Ded. I’m not some pompous lord that needs to be praised and complimented at all times. What I was asking is if you think it’s too long. Do you think I should cut it?”

Ded’s eyes continued darting around. “Depends, my lord.”

“On what?”

“On the look you are going for, my Lord. It is common amongst the nobles to keep long hairs that fall to their shoulders and wear it down. Though, it is also popular to pack it up in a neat tail.”

“Is that so,” Aiden mused. Perhaps he would leave the hair to grow out. “I have a question, Ded. Feel free to not answer.”

“I will answer any question, my Lord.”

Aiden sighed. It was eerily like talking to one of the AI chatbots back on earth.

“Our summoning,” he said. “What do the soldiers say about it back at the palace?”

“Ded paused. "I do not understand the question, my Lord.”

“Me and my companions that were summoned in the throne, how come I only hear about it in the palace? Is it that you guys are not allowed out of the palace or what?”

Ded looked confused. “I do not understand, my Lord.”

This time Aiden stopped walking. “What do you mean you don’t understand? What is the punishment for revealing the existence of the summons to outsiders?”

Ded shook his head. “I’m really sorry, Lord Lacheart, but I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Aiden frowned. Was he playing dumb?

He doubted it. Maybe there was another reason. It was unlikely but possible.

Aiden reached his hands into the soldier’s hair and Ded stiffened. His hands were raised halfway up as if he was fighting to stop himself from stopping Aiden.

Aiden ignored it. If his suspicions were correct, he had nothing to fear from Ded. He parted the man’s short hair from one side to the other, then scattered it.

He saw nothing but refused to accept it. This level of inability to understand what Ded was supposed to know could only come from one place.

“Turn around,” he commanded.

Ded obeyed and turned around. “Is everything alright, my Lord?”

Aiden reached into Ded's hair again and continued his search. It only took him a few seconds to find what he was looking for. Buried underneath the man’s brown hair was a black mark. Aiden traced it along his head gently, pushing hair aside as he did.

Once he was done, he released Ded and sucked in a deep breath to calm himself.

Someone had tattooed an enchantment onto Ded’s head.

“When did you cut your hair?” Aiden asked the soldier.

“Two months ago, maybe,” Ded answered. “Why, my Lord?”

Aiden shook his head then resumed their walk. “No reason. And forget about the tailor shop, we need to get back to the palace as soon as possible.”

“Yes, my Lord. But may I ask a question?”

“If it’s about how I know you cut your hair or why I asked, I cannot give you an answer.”

“It’s not that, Lord Lacheart,” Ded said, a little confused. “It’s something else.”

Aiden could see the castle gates now. They weren’t far away from it. Two soldiers stood guard with longswords at their hip and spears in hand. They were different from the ones that had been at the gate when he had left for his adventure and he didn't recognize them.

“What’s the question, Ded?” he asked.

From the way one of the guards leaned forward, it seemed they had spotted them as well.

Ded let out a steadying breath. “Why me, my Lord?”

“I don’t understand.”

“Why me?” Ded repeated. “Jord, friend of mine, said he was the one who’d passed the note to the Knight who was supposed to assign your escort. Dondi was the soldier assigned to you but I was the one summoned to be your escort for this quest. I don’t understand it. Dondi is a known soldier with an actual combat class. He is also of a higher level than me. I don’t understand why I was summoned despite the job being his.”

Aiden shrugged. “I needed a [Scout].”

“There are better scouts than myself, my Lord.”

“And yet I chose you.”

Ded looked worried and confused. “Yes, my Lord.”

He said no more as they passed through the gates.

The men standing guard asked questions. Ded provided them his ID and gave a few explanations. They wanted to know why he was bringing in someone that looked the way Aiden did—bandaged and in tattered clothes.

Ded gave a simple explanation about how Aiden was an adventurer and a bastard son of some noble somewhere here to make some report or the other to some official of some name or the other.

Aiden waited patiently while Ded cleared everything up, presenting Aiden’s ID as proof of verification that he was who he said he was.

While he waited, he wondered at something.

Someone had told Ded to shave his head a month ago and had proceeded to engrave an enchantment of secrecy on his head. The closer to the brain such enchantments were, the longer the effects. And judging by the fact that the ink was already fading, it seemed there had been no intentions of having the enchantment be permanent.

There was a chance the ink fading could’ve been a mistake, but Aiden doubted anyone with the knowledge, skill and level to engrave such an enchantment would make the mistake of using ink that wouldn’t be permanent if they didn’t want to.

Aiden wondered how many more soldiers had shaved their head at the same time Ded had shaved his. But this was more than just an enchantment. An enchantment of Secrecy was one of the highest known enchantments in Nastild.

Not just anyone could engrave it. At least not on this level.

The question of how the enchantment remained active for so long was answered simply. It was in a category of enchantments called adaptive enchantments. They tapped into the mana of the person they were inscribed on and activate each time the person thought about whatever subject was meant to be a secret.

As for the actual specifics of how it worked—the science, so to speak—Aiden had no idea. He had never been powerful enough to cast adaptive enchantments of this level.

If he asked Ded, would the man have the answers he was looking for?

He doubted it. There was a high chance that too was a part of the secret and might alert the enchanter to his awareness of it somehow.

He could explain away a lot of the things he knew with his time in the library, but knowing this would not be anything he could explain away. Also, his library gig was practically a bust ever since the unique skill incident.

After a while, Ded turned and motioned Aiden in.

Aiden strolled through the gate, getting strange looks from both guards. I guess being a noble bastard turned adventurer raises a lot of brows.

“Ded,” Aiden said as they walked inside. “How many of you were asked to cut your hair two months ago?”

Ded took a moment to think about it. “All of us, I guess. I heard all the men serving in the palace apart from the knights cut their hair.”

“What of the ladies?”

“I don’t know, my Lord. I only heard about the guys because pretty much all of us were walking around bald for a while.”

And there hadn’t been questions about the blatantly obvious enchantments on their heads? Or conversations about why they shaved their heads?

Aiden frowned as they walked, not liking any of the things he was learning. If the women didn’t cut their hair it meant they had to have put the enchantment on some other part of the ladies.

But who would have enough authority to…

Aiden smacked his forehead. That was a stupid question. Only the royal family could give an instruction so wide spread in the palace.

The question he was supposed to be asking was who in the palace had an enchantment level so high that they could execute an enchantment of secrecy on all the guards working in the palace.

Also, and more importantly, this meant that the palace was aware of their arrival long before they arrived. Their arrival hadn’t been some coincidental thing worked around as they had been led to believe.

“Well any oaf could’ve figured that out,” Aiden muttered to himself. “We literally appeared with an array of Knights and the royal family waiting for us.”

The important question was why Brandis had gone the extra mile to bind everyone with a secrecy enchantments to make sure word of their summoning didn’t get out. Why go to such extremes?

“What did you say, my Lord?” Ded asked.

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“Nothing important,” Aiden answered. “I’ll just need you to run an errand for me in a few days, that’s all.”

“Beyond the castle walls, my Lord?”

Aiden looked at him. “You have really got to stop with the whole ‘my lord’ thing. It’s a bit stiff.”

Ded stopped walking to bow in apology. “Sorry about that, Lord Lacheart.”

Aiden sighed.

I guess that’s the best I’ll get.

…

King Brandis’ study was just as Aiden remembered it. Walls were lined with shelves filled with books. The double doors behind the chair Brandis sat on were covered in green curtains where they had been covered in beige the last time he’d been here. And the small section of the wall where the King had so carefully kicked the Knight, Derendoff, into was clean and pristine. Without Blemish.

“Told you I had people who maintain the building,” Brandis said, noting Aiden’s eyes on the wall.

Aiden said nothing. He remained on his knee and returned his eyes back to the ground. Today, unlike last time, he was alone with Brandis.

Brandis continued to eye him for a moment before he spoke again.

“I’m wondering if your attire is meant to be some kind of statement on what you’ve been through.”

Aiden didn’t have to wonder what was wrong with his attire. He’d come straight to the king’s study—presumptuous of him—after dismissing Ded, and had gotten the attendant at the door to announce him in. Unfortunately, Brandis had been preoccupied so he’d had to stand waiting for almost half an hour before he’d been granted entrance.

So he was here, bandaged and in tattered clothes. He had no sword on him as it had been left with the attendant. One did not have a private audience with the king with a weapon at their side.

“My apologies for my current fashion state, your grace,” Aiden apologized. “It has not been long since I concluded my quest.”

Brandis waved his apology aside. “It does not matter. How went the quest? What is the fruit of your labor?”

Aiden opened his mouth to speak when Brandis cut him off.

“My deepest apologies, Lord Lacheart. Where are my manners? You may rise. The gods know I have too many people bowing to me already. I don’t need you and your companions to be one of them. It is a rude thing to expect your saviors to bow to you.”

Aiden stood up as commanded.

“So,” Brandis gestured. “You were saying.”

“The quest was a success, fruitful. Although the bastard son of a noble might have to stop by to claim his share of his reward if not people will start asking questions.”

“Never mind that. I’m sure you can claim it here in the castle. We have a small room of sorts that has been designated as a financial institute by the commerce society. There are a lot of restrictions but the system still considers it a financial institute. I’m sure you can cash your rewards there.”

Aiden turned thoughtful. He hadn’t known that.

“Are you surprised that I’m not shocked?” Brandis asked.

Aiden blinked. “I don’t understand, your grace.”

“The palace aids you with any amount of funds you require. I felt you would’ve been expecting me to protest at your request to get more funds from a quest you didn’t have to do.”

Aiden shook his head. “Not at all, your grace.”

“Oh.” Brandis expression fell. “Well, I came up with a whole speech on the fly, just in case you were. You don’t mind indulging this old man, do you?”

Aiden wasn’t sure what was happening, but as long as it was just listening to Brandis talk, he didn’t see a problem with it. Or was the man stalling, trying to buy time for something to happen?

He probably wasn’t.

“Not at all, your grace,” Aiden replied.

“Thank you.” Brandis cleared his throat like he was about to give a speech. “If you had been surprised at the absence of any push back on your request, I would’ve told you of how I understand the need to claim your own victories. Some of your peers—I have been told—have treated the funds we have presented you with as if it were their due. Do not get me wrong, there is a portion of those funds given as a continued apology for being taken from your world without your consent. Then there is a portion that exists as a simple show of hospitality.”

If only Brandis knew that there were people like Sam who saw no need for an apology for being here. Aiden had a feeling there were a few people who, if they had been asked, would’ve been more than happy to come here.

Take away the violence and once upon a time I might’ve been one of them.

“…What I’m saying,” Brandis continued, “is that I know what it means to want to collect money that you deserve.”

Aiden nodded, not sure what else was expected of him as a response.

“So… you said there were fruits of your labor,” Brandis said. “What have you gained.”

“Quite a few things,” Aiden answered.

“Don’t tell me you already have a class,” Brandis chuckled in good nature.

Aiden said nothing.

Brandis’ chuckle turned awkward, then worried, then confused. “Right?... You didn’t get a class, Lord Lacheart, right?”

Aiden held his silence.

Brandis’ confusion deepened. “It was a goblin subjugation quest. What happened that you went from Level 2 to level 10 in just two days?”

“Level 11, your grace.” Aiden saw no need to explain that it was actually level 14 that dropped down to 11 for special reasons.

“11?” Brandis opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. He pressed the heel of his palm into his forehead in sudden fatigue. “If Sir Valdan had not already vouched for how quickly you grow your skills and how disciplined you are, I would be worried right now. I know you all want to level up quickly—the gods know I’ve received more than a fair share of such petitions from your companions—but learning the basics before getting a class is more important than you know.”

Aiden nodded.

Willing to alleviate some of Brandis’ worries, he said, “I assure you, your grace, I know all the basics.”

“And the fact that I believe you is why I am not panicking.”

Personally, the man looked like he was panicking in Aiden’s eyes, but Aiden didn’t point that out.

Brandis adjusted his shirt and leaned forward on his table. It was a simple brown shirt that made him look like a simple man out and about in his own house. “If you are level 11, then surely you have been offered a class. What class did you choose?”

Here was the tricky part.

First, there was no lying to be had. Any competent town had devices and people capable of seeing a person’s details with their permission and, in some cases, without. And as the king of his own kingdom, Brandis had such a skill. There were as many perks as there were sacrifices to the title of [King].

What was tricky was how to present his skill and still hold some level of autonomy over his actions.

“Weaver, your grace,” Aiden answered.

Brandis grimaced. “Weaver?”

“Yes, your grace.”

“Like those that do baskets or mend clothes?” Brandis was confused. “There are some that are into building and architecture. That Weaver?”

“Yes... and no.”

“Forgive me, Lord Lacheart,” Brandis said in a tired voice, “but you might need to explain more.”

Aiden nodded. But rather than speak immediately, he checked his mana.

[Mana 52%]

That had to be more than enough for a demonstration.

“Rather than explain, your grace,” he said, “why don’t I show you?”

Brandis’ eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Alright.”

Aiden brought his hands together and weaved a very slow sign. In his mind he saw the enchantment clear as day, but his body had a difficult time interpreting it into hand signs.

Skill [Enchanted Weave] is in effect.

It took him a moment but Aiden concluded the weaving, and it took effect. His hair stood on end as electricity went through his skin.

You have used [Lesser Weave of Lightning]

Effect: Deal lightning damage on all attacks

Effect: 9% chance to deal stun damage on every attack.

Duration: 00:00:33.

At level eleven, Aiden’s mind could now recreate higher grade enchantments he knew. But they were only high as compared to what he had been capable of previously. They still remained the lesser form of their original enchantments. They merely carried longer durations, in some cases longer radii or stronger effects.

But he couldn’t call them powerful. Not yet.

Brandis got up slowly from his chair, like a man who was seeing the impossible. Aiden remained still as the king walked over to him, staring at him as if he was some impossible item in a science lab.

Brandis placed a finger on Aiden’s shoulder and some of the electricity crackled up an inch of it before dissipating without any effect.

“Enchantment of Lesser Lightning,” Brandis said in awe.

He took his finger away slowly but didn’t stop staring. After a while, he looked away, suddenly in deep thought, then completely turned away. He took a few steps, picked a book out of one of the shelves, reconsidered, then put it back.

He took out another book from the same shelf, read the words inscribed on the cover, then turned to Aiden.

“Catch.”

He tossed the book through the air and Aiden caught it in his hands. The electricity flowed through him and into the book and he dropped it from his grasp for fear of destroying it.

Aiden and Brandis just stood there, staring at each other until the enchantment wore off. When it did, electricity no longer going through Aiden, Brandis spoke.

“You did that without any items.”

His voice was doubtful and still in awe.

“Yes, your grace.”

“And no enchantments.”

“There was an enchantment your grace.”

“And you did that with…” Brandis gestured at Aiden’s hands in silent disbelief. “You did that when you were moving your hands?”

“Yes, your grace.”

Brandis walked over to his table and leaned on it. He looked like he did it because he needed the support.

“So you created the effects of an enchantment with hand signs.” The disbelief in his voice was heavy.

“Yes, your grace.”

Brandis shook his head. “Impossible.”

But the words didn’t carry much weight or confidence. It was like that of someone refusing a fact shown to them on nothing but principle.

“You are telling me that with your class you weaved an enchantment?”

Aiden nodded. He would be lying if he said there wasn’t a small part of him that was enjoying the king’s confusion.

Brandis took a deep breath. When he let it out, he was calm again. Kingly.

Piercing amber eyes met Aiden’s.

“I have never heard of anyone capable of creating an enchantment without at least drawing the enchantment somehow,” he said in a deep voice. “What you have just done is unheard of.”

Aiden almost indulged in the king’s awe by letting him know that he was very much aware of that. He held his tongue at the last minute, though, because it was not information he was supposed to have.

“You may not understand this, Lord Lacheart,” Brandis said with a sudden weight to his words. “But you’re not just a weaver. You’re a weaver of enchantments. You are a walking impossibility, Aiden. A living enchantment.”

Aiden felt something strange happen then. He wasn’t sure what it was, though. It could’ve been the air or just a weird feeling. Heck, it could’ve been a figment of his imagination. But it wasn’t, because a moment later a voice spoke that was neither his nor Brandis.

“Those who do the impossible are often those who change the world, King Brandis.”

The Sage appeared out of nowhere, standing in front of one of the book shelves as if he had always been there.

Aiden tensed at the man’s presence.

How long has he been standing there? How didn’t I see him?

“My apologies for scaring you, Lord Lacheart,” the Sage said. “I often forget that while Brandis is accustomed to this, most people are not.”

He calls his king by name in my presence, Aiden thought. It seemed intentional, so there had to be a statement in there somewhere.

And judging by Brandis’ lack of a reaction, Aiden had a feeling the statement was meant to be important.

“There will be an envoy from one of the kingdoms from the south in a few days, Lord Lacheart,” the Sage continued, soliciting a frown from Brandis. “You will attend.”

“He will not,” Brandis refused. “None of our saviors will. They are not properties to be paraded around for the entertainment of our guests.”

“No one is parading anybody, Brandis,” the Sage said, almost dismissive, as if talking to a child. “The kingdom of Nel Quan has chosen to intimidate. I assure you that they will come with theirs simply to flex their muscles, metaphorically speaking.”

“It matters not.” Brandis stood by his words. “Just because some guy wants to get into a flexing match does not mean I have to indulge him. I am not a child.”

“It is not about childish games. It is about confirming dominance.”

“Men do not play such feeble games.”

The Sage sighed as if tired of the entire conversation. “I’m sorry to inform you, Brandis, but while real men do not play such feeble games, Kings do. I understood your previous desire to keep this from them and have none of them attend, but it is different now. We have an impossible card to play.”

“The boy is not a card!” Brandis snapped. “And I am not a child! Do not speak to me like one.”

Silence settled on the room, heavy and thick. In it the Sage looked at the king with tired eyes.

“We are all children in greater eyes, Brandis,” he said with sad solemnity. “You just refuse to accept it.”

Aiden felt like he’d just learnt more about the Sage in this single interaction than he had in the entirety of his previous life. The Sage believed there were greater powers than him and was likely aware of them. That was a lot coming from an existence that people considered mythical.

Also, Aiden wasn’t sure how to put it, but the man wasn’t the king’s Sage. He was sure of it. It was more like Brandis was the Sage’s king, if that made sense.

The Sage returned his attention to Aiden and Aiden stiffened reflexively. He raised his staff and pointed it at Aiden.

“I apologize for my lack of decorum but I will now take a look at your personal details.”

“That is a breach of trust,” Brandis objected, but he might as well have been talking to the birds.

Aiden felt a gentle caress of the air, then felt something take a hold of his head where he stood. He didn’t fight it because he knew that he couldn’t.

He stood silently, held in the grip of fear as the Sage laid his information open before him. How much would the man see? How much would he be able to figure out?

The Sage was still an enemy he could not defeat, he was sure of that. Worse would be if the man chose to slay him here, though a large part of him doubted that that would happen.

Aiden was reminded once more of how powerless he was in the grand scheme of things.

“That’s… interesting,” the Sage mused after a while.

He lowered his staff with a small smile stretching his bearded lips. He didn’t look like a man who’d just found something interesting. He looked like a man who’d just found something truly ecstatic.

“Your title, Lord Lacheart,” he said. “How did you get it? I speak of [Defier] not [Goblin Slayer].”

What did the man know of [Defier]?

“On the brink of death,” Aiden lied.

“On the brink of death?”

“Yes, Sir. I got my class, then I felt a strong pain in my chest that went on for minutes that seemed to stretch on forever. When I came to, it was there, staring at me.”

It was more lie than truth, or perhaps the word Aiden was looking for was omission. Getting the [Weaver] class had felt like he was dying, and he hadn’t even been sure of its success. And the cost…

A unique skill and three levels.

Even now he thought it was a steep price.

The Sage laughed, shocking Aiden and the King.

“[Defier],” he said, still laughing. “It has been forever since I’ve seen a person with such a title. Yours seems to be even more significant than theirs with words that I cannot read. You must have defied something you had no right defying. I am a Sage and even I wouldn't dare to gain that title.” He paused with a nostalgic sigh. "Ignorance must be so bliss."

Brandis turned to him in shock. “Words you cannot read?! How is that possible?”

“It is not an impossible thing, my king,” the Sage replied. “It is a rare thing, but not an impossible thing. And if you factor in the fact that he also has a locked skill, then it wouldn’t be very surprising.”

Brandis’ jaw dropped. “A locked skill.”

It seemed this one wasn’t an impossibility to him, just a rarity.

Also, what did the Sage mean by something he had no right defying? Where there things that shouldn't be defied in Nastild or was he specifically talking about the Multiverse?

There were too many questions with too little answers.

“Is there a problem?” Aiden dared to ask. He wasn’t against getting information from someone he considered an enemy.

“None at all,” the Sage answered. “Our king’s grandfather had a locked skill. The gods lock the blessings of a skill for one of two reasons. Either there are criteria to be met or the owner of the skill is not strong enough to access it, in which case it is done for their own good.”

That didn’t sound so bad. Aiden hoped his case was the latter. Having a skill with criteria to unlock was ludicrous when he didn’t even know the criteria.

“To more immediate matters,” the Sage said, continuing his usurpation of the conversation. “Your weaving of enchantments was slow. Do you believe it is something you can speed up? I am aware that in enchantments the better the enchanter is the faster their engraving. I believe your hand signs are your version of engraving. And, honestly, I don’t believe it is meant to be so slow.”

Aiden agreed. In fact, he was sure of it. His hand signs were slow because he was having a difficult time translating the symbols in his mind to actual signs. It felt more like coming up with his own language on the fly.

Even then, the skill was doing more of the translation than he was. Given time he was sure he could be faster.

“Can you?” the Sage asked.

Aiden nodded. “I believe it should be possible.”

“Good.” The Sage nodded. “As for my invasion of privacy in rooting out your personal information, I will not do anything as petty as apologizing for an intentional show of disrespect. I am a being who simply takes what he wants when he can, as long as he can. I am neither a king nor a diplomat that I will have to use kind words. There is neither a carrot nor a stick with me, there is simply what is. I hope you understand, Lord Lacheart.”

The Sage had already turned and was headed for one of the shelves so Aiden was sure a response from him was not required.

As the Sage performed the domineering act of disappearing into one of the shelves, his final words were simple.

“King Brandis, fourth of his name, will give you the details of these envoys’ arrival from a distant kingdom.”

Then he was gone.

In his absence, Brandis wore a scowl on his face. “It continues to annoy me when I am reminded by the fact that he cannot be controlled. He is kinder on normal days, though, less whirlwind-y.”

His jaw ticked, then hardened.

“Sages are a natural disaster unbound by the laws of time," he continued. "I guess we can only be glad that there are so few of them and their locations are unknown.”

That was another piece of information that Aiden had never had. He wondered what specifically Brandis meant by Sages being unbound by the laws of time. Was it that they didn’t die of old age or was he speaking of something on a more magical principle?

All he had were more questions. More things to research in the library of Living Truth when he finally made his way out of Bandiv.

He really needed a plan now.

The town of cannibals, he decided, would be his next quest as it had been in his previous life. Then the cave in the southern borders, then the library of Living Truth.

For now, he would address controllable matters.

He turned to Brandis.

“So what is it about this envoy, your grace?”