“First off, do you know any combat related spells? Or spells that can be altered to be combat capable?” I asked, leaning forward.

“Of course I do, but I’m not going to teach you any spells,” he said with wide eyes

“Why?” was my only rebuttal, and it was delivered with such a fierce frown I felt Sylvie’s soft hand harden on my shoulder. The old man leaned back slightly away from me.

“Because then you’d be a rogue mage, and you’d hurt yourself more than you already have!” He exclaimed exasperated. As though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“You really should have seen that coming,” Khaos snickered in my mind. Mentally I blocked him out, as much as I could.

“Would you get in trouble if you taught me any spells?” I asked, gripping the sheets tightly.

“Absolutely,” he said, pushing his spectacles up. I took a quick look at his person. A small book was on his waist. It must be his spell book. If I could steal that I wouldn’t need the old man. Something told me there was a way to copy those spells into my tome.

“What would convince you to teach me?” I would rather not resort to theft if I don’t have to.

“Nothing,” the old man hissed and made as to get up. Before he could I interjected,

“I’m leaving this city. Likely this country, maybe even this continent. Will you not teach me basic survival spells? I clearly have an aptitude for magic.” He paused halfway up from his chair. Sylvie looked at me like I had lost my mind.

“What do you mean you’re leaving?!” She asked, grabbing my shoulders and forcing me to face her.

“I have a duty to perform. That’s all I can say right now,” I said before grabbing her hands and cupping them in mine “but in time I will tell you everything,” I swore. The look on her face softened slightly, I was still in trouble but it wasn’t going to be ‘kicked out of the house’ level of trouble anymore.

“Where you go I go,” she said firmly. I opened my mouth to retort, to say the journey would be dangerous, that I didn’t know when it would end; if it would end. “Don’t you try and stop me, I’m your wife. My place is at your side, no matter the trial, no matter the circumstance. Or have you already forgotten our wedding vows,” she teased gently.

All I could do was smile, I raised my hand and caressed her smooth silky hair. She leaned gently into my hand and my heart felt as though it would explode from the cascade of emotion.

“Of course, how could I have thought I’d be able to be without you,” I said as she grabbed my wrist. She turned to Ghiraldi,

“Messere Ghiraldi, would you let your apprentice go on a possibly dangerous journey without the proper magics?” she said with a sweet smile. And in that instant, I remembered why I had fallen in love with her. The old man stared at his apprentice with tired eyes.

“You sly fox you,” he muttered, shaking his head. And indeed, with her red hair and sweet cloying smile, she looked very foxlike indeed. Ghiraldi gestured to me,

“I assume you can stand and walk now, follow us. I’ll pretend you’re not there,” he snapped. He turned on his heel and started making his way out. I pulled the sheets off of me and swung my legs off the side of the bed. With a groan I stood up and stretched so hard I felt a cramp developing in my thigh and back. I immediately went into a hunched position and proceeded to carefully stretch the offending muscles. Messere Ghiraldi stood impatiently at the door, his arms were crossed and he was actually tapping his foot. It was a funny sight, but I kept my laughter contained and made my way to him with Sylvie supporting my arm.

We followed him through the winding stone corridors out into the street. The old man could keep a surprisingly brisk pace. I still wasn’t at hundred percent yet, but the exercise was helping get the blood flowing and I was soon Able to walk without Sylvie’s assistance. Although, she kept her hand firmly in mine. I let a small smile bloom on my face. It was truly a beautiful day. The Silvestrians had clearly broken and the town seemed to be relaxing slightly. The sun was shining bright overhead, but the cold wind offset it perfectly. We followed the old man through some more streets until we stood in front of the gates to a large mansion. Ghiraldi put his hand on the gate and did something and the doors opened on creaking hinges. He gestured for us to follow him into what I surmised to be his home.

There was a large walkway of paved stone lined with fanciful statues of faeries, unicorns, dragons, and other mythical beings. Beyond them were lawns of rich green grass, which was strange considering the weather. I chalked it up to magic and didn’t think too much of it. The pathway led to the mansion proper. It wasn’t huge, but it was sizable enough to likely need a groundskeeper and a handful of servants to keep it running. Although I saw nothing of the sort as we walked to the manse. As we approached the gates, the old man turned to us. He swung his arm out, indicating the grounds.

“Sylvie, I will teach you the magic you need to know here. Your husband…may watch. And as long as you are training the arts I will teach you, you will both live under this roof,” he said pointing with his thumb behind him.

“Go and gather your things. We begin training tomorrow,” with that final proclamation he stepped into the mansion and closed the door on us, leaving us standing in his courtyard. I looked to Sylvie, she looked at me. Then we both started laughing as the reality of the situation set in.

The giggles wore off, and we decided to go home and grab our things. We made our way down winding streets to the poorer part of town, though not the poorest mind you. I grabbed a bag and rolled up my clothes onto compact…well, rolls; before stacking them in the bag. Thankfully everything fit, not that my wardrobe was particularly expansive. It didn’t matter too much, we could make multiple trips if there was anything we couldn’t take in this initial one. And it did take multiple trips to move everything from our old house into the mansion. But, by the time the sun was setting we were finished. We even brought the chickens, who were happily pecking around the expansive yard.

“Well, I guess there’s nothing more to do,” said Sylvie before grabbing the knocker and banging it against the heavy wood door thrice. Bang, bang, bang. As soon as her hand left the knocker the door creaked open with a whisper of wind escaping from inside like a sigh. The inside of the mansion was as you’d expect, rich red carpet, candelabras with bright burning candles that didn’t seem to emit smoke burning bright. We watched as some dust swirled around in a sudden breeze. Then we heard a faint whispery voice,

“Please follow me masters, dinner is ready.” The dust then began to float down the hall. Sometimes the flickering candle light exposed the outline of a man floating through the air, but it was a fleeting mirage.

“If I may ask, what are you exactly?” I asked , curiosity getting the better of me.

“An artificial wind spirit master,” it responded, not slowing its gait whatsoever. An artificial wind spirit?! I looked over to Sylvie, who looked just as confused. I’d heard of wind spirits, they weren’t very rare but they were infamously difficult to capture.

“Can I ask how?” Sylvie said.

“I do not know,” was all it answered. As it responded we stepped into a dining room. Really it was a hall. A long mahogany table, capable of seating at least twelve, was accompanied by darker mahogany chairs. A red black table cloth was lain on the table, small candle holders and vases of flowers set at regular intervals. At the head of the table, sat the wizard Ghiraldi.

“How do you find my home,” he asked, sitting back in his chair.

“It is grand Messere,” replied Sylvie with a very small curtsy.

“You have a beautiful home,” I said, not performing any bow of any kind.

“Please, you two, sit,” he said gesturing to the seats on his left and right. Sylvie sat at his right, and I sat at his left. He clapped his hands twice. And out floated three covered platters.

“Fery, would you mind enlightening us what’s for dinner?” the old man asked the empty air.

“Certainly master,” came a faint whispery voice, “first we have duck, braised in a southern rice wine sauce. On the side we have some simple white rice, also from the south, and a healthy serving of lentils. Prepared in the manner of the Yanan. And for dessert we have soft cheese, served with nuts and honey.” I sat dumbfounded as the dishes covers were raised and the most expensive and finest meal I had ever seen was presented before me. I never knew that the old wizard was this stupidly wealthy. He had rice imported from the south, and rice wine? And the spices of Yanan and the other southern countries! I could smell them even from where I was sitting, unconsciously I was salivating. I looked across the table to see Sylvie similarly shocked.

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“Eat, before it gets cold,” said the old man, gesturing with his fork. I picked up my knife and fork and dug in. The duck was soft, juicy, and so moist. It was so tender it seemed to melt on my tongue. And rice! I had never had rice before, the import was just too expensive. It was a little strange at first, but I found it perfectly complemented the sauce the duck had been braised in; mellowing out some of the intense flavours from the spices. And the lentils, the lentils were so heavily spiced I wondered if the King ate like this everyday.

Before I realized it, I had finished everything on my plate. I had to physically stop myself from licking the plate. Thankfully, when I looked over, Sylvie looked to be fighting the same urge. We turned to the old man to see he was only half way done with his food and he had been watching us.

“The only bright points in your days will be your sleep and your meals. Every other moment of the day I will be destroying you and building you back up,” he said, “so enjoy them.” We both nodded, sipping the water given to us while the old man finished his entree. He clapped twice again and the wind spirits came to take our dirty dishes away. They brought in smaller plates, a piece of creamy looking cheese was drizzled with honey and covered in chopped walnuts. The very picture of deliciousness. Sylvie and I exchanged a look before both of us dug in. It was delicious. The cheesiness of the cream cheese was accentuated by the sweetness of the honey and vice versa. The nuts provided a welcome heterogeneity, every bite was a little bit different.

The old man clapped again, and our plates were whisked away.

“Fery will lead you to your quarters. I suggest you sleep as soon as possible, the day starts early,” he said, gesturing to the invisible wind spirit. We followed the artificial spirit after bidding Ghiraldi good night. Almost immediately I realized I had forgotten to ask Ghiraldi how he had made the artificial wind spirits. I began to turn to go back and ask him and felt a breeze flutter across my face.

“Please follow me sir,” came Fery’s ethereal voice. A strong wind gently pushed me down the hall. Reluctantly, I followed the wind spirit. I’d have to ask Ghiraldi tomorrow, maybe after the training.

“What of our luggage?” asked Sylvie, posing a sensible question.

“You needn’t worry ma’am, it has been moved to your quarters,” replied Fery with a faint whisper.

We walked through the hall until we came to the entrance, where we went up the winding stairs until we reached the top floor of the house.

“The Master does not use this floor, please, make use of it as you wish,” it said “allow me to show you what is on this floor.”

It led us around the floor. One room was a small kitchenette. Complete with a small fristos, a magical device which kept whatever was put inside cold and fresh near indefinitely. I’d only seen one when I was invited to the Lord’s house. And even he had only a small one. If I understood correctly the magical inscriptions were complex, and needed to cover the entirety of the box. It had a small cooking stove, again magical. It seemed that turning the knob would change how much heat the runecarved stone would produce. A small cabinet held knives and spatulas, as well as other cooking utensils.

“You’ll be happy to hear that the chickens have been given free range of the gardens,” Fery said faintly as his voice moved away from us. “I think you will find your bedroom quite exceptional as well.”

We followed him to a set of large oak double doors. He pushed them open with a gust of wind. Straight ahead was a large bed with soft looking white pillows and red sheets. Drapes hung from the sides like the wings of a butterfly, and they were just as colourful. The room itself was bigger than our previous house. There was a dresser with a large mirror mounted on it on one side of the room, and a large wardrobe on the other. Sylvie and I tentatively stepped into the room, I went to the wardrobe and opened it. The hinges didn’t even squeak, as though they’d been recently oiled. Inside were all of the clothes the two of us owned.

“Well then, I will leave you with Zefyr,” Fery said before disappearing. A new wind spirit seemed to take his place.

“Sir, Miss. I highly recommend you go to bed. Your day will start rather early tomorrow,” it said with a small bow before floating away. I noticed a door a little bit away from the bed but against the same wall. I opened it to find an ornate wash room. A shower, called that as the magic which allowed it to operate mimicked rain, stood against the far wall in its glass cage. Closer was an ajax, a sort of outhouse that washed itself using complex magic working in tandem with the city's plumbing.. On the other side of it was a washbasin. It even had hot water because of some complex runestones instantly heating the water. The intensity could be changed with some knobs on the basin itself. There was so much casual wealth on display I was stunned. Not to mention the massive mirror set into the wall across from the shower and washbasin.

I gestured Sylvie over, she gasped in awe as she walked into the washroom. I put a hand on her shoulder.

“I want to try the shower first, you can go after,” I said before gently pushing her out of the wash room. She pouted at me as I closed the door on her. I walked over to the shower, taking my clothes off and putting them in a neat pile. I fiddled with the knob until the water was just right, not too hot but not too cold either. There was a toothbrush and some sort of cleaning paste which I used first in the shower. When my teeth finally felt clean, I turned to inspect the bottles of oils and soaps on the ledge in the shower. I covered myself with one of the oils, it had a cinnamon like scent and felt warm. I let it sit for a minute or so. Then I took some of the soap and lathered it all over. This one also smelled nice and warm. I washed myself off and opened the door of the shower. The entire washroom was filled with steam. Laid out was a pair of light cotton pants and shirt. Next to it was a soft looking towel. It seemed the wind spirit servants were quick to adapt to the situation. Fascinating. I dried myself off with the towel, finding the feeling of it wrapped around my body simply incredible. The pants and shirt were similarly soft, I felt clean and refreshed as I stepped out into the cool room. The cold air hit my skin, causing me to shiver. It felt very good and I stretched as far as my body could, getting all up on my tiptoes. I yawned just as big. I saw Sylvie going through the drawers on the dresser. It seemed that it was full of makeup, sewing supplies, and various other useful things. Although most of the drawers were empty.

“Sylvie, you have to try the shower. It’s simply incredible, it's like rain; but warm.SHe looked over with a smile,

“I was just waiting for you to come out,” she said as she walked to the washroom. She opened the door, only to get hit by a wall of steam. She gave me a disappointed look before walking in. Soon I heard the shower running. I laid down on the bed and realized I was exhausted. It had been a long day.

“It has been hasn’t it” came an entirely unwelcome voice “you haven’t tried a single one of the new spells you gained, what was even the point of me giving you them?”

“None of them-” I began before he cut me off,

“Shut. I’ll hand it to you, you did well in having the old man teach you magic. Good job. THis should be able to expand your spell repertoire. And maybe it’ll help you with your little spell editing conundrum,” Khaos said with a small laugh.

“Wait, it’s possible to rewrite spells!?” I asked excitedly, sitting up. No response. I waited a minute, nothing. ‘Useless bastard,” I muttered to myself as Sylvie stepped out of the washroom.

“I see you’re ready for bed,” she murmured, sliding under the covers next to me.

“Mhhm,” I replied, taking her into my arms. She was almost as soft as the bedding surrounding us. She was definitely warmer though. As I drifted off to sleep, I hoped I wouldn't have any dreams. I had a feeling I would dream of him.

Lo and behold. When I woke up I was sitting in front of a familiar ball of chain. The green chains ground against each other, sparking and throwing off embers. From the cage, red and purple chains shot out once more. At this point I expected it, so when they wound themselves around my extremities and dragged me into the cage I wasn’t at all surprised. I was deposited on a hard, cold, stone floor with an unceremonious thud. I groaned as I got up to my feet and my eyes scanned my surroundings. It was a modest, albeit clearly wealthy, sitting room. There were two plump, brown, armchairs and a small table between them. There was a thick rug on the ground beneath them. To the left was a counter with a variety of glass bottles behind it, and to the right was some sort of array of cupboards. Otherwise, it was empty. I sat down in one of the armchairs, sinking in deep. I struggled to sit up and managed to do so by sitting on the edge of the chair.

As soon as I did, a man materialized before me in the opposite chair. He had shoulder length deep purple hair, glowing solid red eyes, and his skin was so pale it was almost translucent. A red-purple light beat where his heart should be. He was entirely shirtless, his body looking as if sculpted by the masters in Patridia. He wore simple leather pants and no shoes. His features were sharp, almost unnaturally, his ears were long and tapered, adorned with gold rings. Like an exaggerated mockery of an elf.

“You’ve done very well,” he said, his voice very very familiar. He leaned back as he continued,

“You’ve only had power for a little over a day, in a state you’re capable of using it at least. And you’ve already killed one of your marks and almost died yourself. Well done.” He smiled at me. I stared at him wordlessly, what was I supposed to say?

“Thanks I guess,” I replied with a shrug.

“You did quite well against the Simian. It’s not the weakest demon there is, but it’s not the strongest either. A very good measure of your strength.”

“It was a do or die situation,” I said feeling strangely relaxed.

“Would you like a drink?” He asked, getting up. “I assure you, even though my sister has imprisoned me, I still have access to the best spirits in the world.” Saying so, he grabbed a crystal bottle filled with a reddish liquid. He grabbed two fancy square glasses and placed a cube of ice in both. He gently poured the drink up to the halfway point. Then he grabbed a green spirit and poured that for the rest. Then he grabbed an orange fruit, the likes of which Liam had never seen before cutting a bit of peel off of it. He twisted it over the two glasses before grabbing a sprig of mint. He rolled it in between his fingers, gently bruising it before brushing the rims with it then dropping it in. He took a tall, thin spin and spun the ice cube vigorously, cooling down the drink very very fast.

He walked to me and handed me the drink, I took it and drank a sip. It tasted a little bitter, but the bitterness was tempered by a spicy, warm flavour; which itself was cut through by the cool mint and the hint of a strange fruity flavour only brought everything together. It was the best mixed drink I’d ever had. I looked up to see Khaos grinning at me.

“I think you’ll be happy to learn, Liam. That one of your targets has wandered rather close to you. Though, you’ll have to cross the border to get to her,” he said, putting his glass down on the table.

“Why are you telling me?” I asked him, leaning forward.

“Oh, I just want her dead. She’s been ’secretly’ sending information to my wife. The only person allowed to sabotage my followers is myself, kill her please.”

“And why would I do anything to help you?” I asked. He smiled at me.

“Because I’m telling you to,” he said simply, staring me in the eyes. The world started to feel sluggish. Yeah, why not kill her. After all, despite everything, she was a follower of Khaos. She needed to die for him to get stronger. But aren’t I also a follower of Khaos? The thought made me realize Khaos had likely cast some sort of spell on me,

“Interesting, you’re resisting it!” He bellowed with a large guffaw. “I see, you’re against killing someone who’s just like you huh? Then I’ll give you three options, kill her, recruit her, or strip her of her power.” As he said the last choice I felt something enter my mind, a spell.

“That spell is designed to take my power away from one of my followers. You only get one use, so use it wisely,” he said as everything began to fade away.