Wizard Aldric led Hump through the gardens of the estate, following winding paths between rows of blossoming flowers and sculpted fountains. The late morning sun glowed through the leaves of fruit trees above, casting long shadows upon the cobblestone path.

People looked up from where they sat on benches or grassland and looked at them nervously as they passed by. Nisha ran ahead excitedly, sniffing at anything that interested her, and Hump made no effort to control her. He’d done his part on being polite, and he’d been spied on for it. Now he would use them for his own gain and forget the rest of it.

“Before we begin, I want to know who I speak with,” Hump said. “If you’re not an inquisitor, what are you? Inquisitor Sarielle claimed to be the inquisitor of the highest authority in Nordric, yet she deferred to you.”

“I was an inquisitor once, but no longer.” He withdrew a silver flask from the pockets of his wizard robes and took a swig. “I am a Wizard of the First Order, and with that, a certain power was entrusted to me. The power to decide the very fate of a wizard, if I so desire.”

“I wasn’t aware any wizard possessed such authority.”

Aldric paused, gently lifting a purple rose to his nose and breathing it in. He smiled. “Many think the same, until fate finds them. It’s a firm belief of mine that many fool themselves into thinking they have more freedoms than they do, rather than facing the realities of life. In theory, freedom comes with power, but I’ve found that the more power one has, the more restrictions one finds placed upon said power. Tradition, protocols, rules—it binds all of us the same.”

“Unless one goes right to the top,” Hump said. “Who would dare to restrict the Twelve?”

“There is perhaps only one,” Aldric said. “Lady Light herself. Just as we are bound by King Henry, the Arch Wizard, High Priests and any number of Chosen, they are ruled by her. And no doubt, they must remain in line just like the rest of us.”

His eyes found Hump, carrying a gravitas with them that made Hump look away before he could think better of it.

Annoyed at himself, he asked, “You’re concerned about my loyalties.”

“Yes.”

“Why?” Hump came to a stop and turned to the man. He didn’t hide the irritation in his voice. “I defended Sheercliff City. I fought as many warlocks as anyone. How much more evidence of my fidelity do you need?”

Nisha returned to Hump’s side, a feeling of camaraderie coming through their bond. Of focus and anger. She shared his irritation, and she glared at Aldric defiantly.

The man seemed to find her amusing as he watched her with a faint smile before turning back to Hump. “It is not about your lack of achievements, but rather, the number of them. Your growth is too fast, your luck too good, and your placement in all this too perfect. You—and forgive my phrasing—burn too bright for such a young wizard. And now, not only do you speak with a greater demon, but you also survive its wrath. Something doesn’t add up, and until I know what, you’re a threat.”

The man took another swig from his silver flask. Hump’s brow furrowed as he glanced at it, wondering at the man’s own secrets. Surely it was too early for a wizard of such high esteem to be drinking alcohol, especially in public.

Hump struggled to find fault in the man’s statement. The truth was, he was a warlock—or at least, he had been one once, on a purely technical standpoint. The dragon imprint on his soul was now gone, but it was a corruption of his soul that granted him power—the very definition of what made a warlock. His growth now was thanks to a mysterious spellbook, and his knowledge of events in part due to his meeting with Owalyn and Countess Daston. There was much that he couldn’t—wouldn’t—explain.

“I understand your reservations toward me,” Hump said.

“Good.” Aldric continued walking, hands clasped behind his back and seemingly relaxed, enjoying the sun. “Then let us move this discussion along. Tell me of the greater demon you encountered. I’ve already heard one version of events, but I would be most interested in yours.”

Hump followed at his side. “There’s not a huge amount to tell. We slew a mind eater in the node chamber, and then pursued its fleeing underlings to a portal at the rear of the chamber. Through the portal, I saw a forest of red leaves, and silver stars in the sky above. It reminded me of a dungeon grove, and I assumed it to be part of the Infernal Halls. I briefly studied the portal before the scene changed, revealing a humanoid demon with black wings and a tail. He called itself Karlac Gormoth and seemed interested in learning about us. My party member did most of the talking and probed him enough to find out that it didn’t seem to be a part of the Infernal Halls, but rather some sort of passerby or visitor.”

“Indeed, it would be strange for this particular demon to be loyal to the dungeon.”

“You know of it?” Hump asked.

The man nodded. “Karlac is a devil, and a powerful one at that. His name is found in the vilest of dark scripture. He comes in many forms: Karlac Bloodseeker, Karlac Silvertongue, Karlac the Traveler. In all, he appears as a friend: handsome, fair, and all too human. Always, he comes offering bargains. These are dark days indeed if he has become enraptured in all this.”

“Have you dealt with him before?”

“Not directly, but I have seen many that have attempted to summon him, and a few that succeeded. It always ended in heartbreak, for one never wins a bargain with a devil. It is a fool’s gambit that only the most desperate or wicked ever seek, and Karlac is one of the most powerful amongst them. For you to have spoken to him is a danger to the city already, you must not trust his words.”

Hump decided not to say that Karlac had already mentioned coming to Hump with an offer for his spellbook, not that he would ever take it.

“Well, we didn’t do too much talking in the end,” Hump said. “I’ve got a Knight of Kelisia in my party that’s all about the purging and banishing of demons. Conversation diverged into Hellfire fairly quickly.”

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Aldric barked a laugh. “I’d expect nothing less from a Blackthorne.”

Hump’s lips twisted into an unwilling smile at the comment, then he sighed and looked at the ground. “Of course, you’ve looked into my party.”

“Sir Robert has been working hard in Fort Nordric. There are few that do not know his name, and fewer that do not know his title: Frost Knight. You are a wizard travelling with a dragon—it took less than an hour for news of your arrival to reach me.”

“He is a good man,” Hump said. “Even if you do not trust me, you can trust him.”

“I do. In fact, I worked closely with his uncle before his unfortunate passing. There are few I would rather face warlocks with. The merit of your allies is one of the reasons we are having this discussion now. And of course, there is Countess Daston. I have not known her to judge a person incorrectly before, and her ears reach more places than even mine.”

“Yet it is still not enough for you to trust me.”

“Should I?”

“They do.”

“Trust is something I have learned to extend with great caution. In my time, I have found that it is those that one trusts the most that always leave the most severe burns.”

“You seem to trust Inquisitor Sarielle.”

“She is a good inquisitor, yes. We are allied through a shared purpose, which makes things easier.”

“To protect wizards,” Hump guessed.

“Precisely. Though where we differ in who we perceive as the greatest threat. Sarielle believes that our fate is held in the hands of the Pantheon, but I disagree. We are our own worst enemies. Those that gain power, become greedy for it. And those that gain it quickly become greediest of all. They hunger for it, until their lust for strength and domination consumes the very thing that makes them human, and they fall to become warlocks.”

“So you wish to protect wizards from themselves?” Hump asked.

“I want to protect them from those that have already fallen. And from what I just overheard, I get the impression you’re well aware of what I speak.”

“Perhaps,” Hump said cautiously, not wanting to give away things that were not meant for his ears.

“Then let me be more specific,” Aldric. “You know that the warlocks destroyed the Seal of Osidium, do you not? And that it was their target in Sheercliff?”

“Yes.”

“I also suspect you witnessed the battle before the House of Stone between the warlock leader and a wizard known as Starrick.”

“I did.” Hump nodded, surprised at the depth of Aldric’s knowledge. There were few people that knew such specifics, and Hump had been warned not to share them.

Aldric nodded. “The Seal of Osidium was the second of the twelve seals to fall. Twelve seals that seal away the ancient gods and are all that stand between us and another War of the Firmament.”

Wizard Starrick had mentioned that a Great War was coming too, but he had not spoken of what exactly the seals were for.

“You’re more well informed than I am,” Hump admitted.

“I should hope so. Did you see it fall?”

“Only the aftermath. Sheercliff was cracked, as if struck by a giant hammer, and then a great pillar of light and power pierced the sky. Afterward, the warlocks attempted to sacrifice the people of the city to open a rift, but I do not know what lay beyond.”

The last bit was a small lie. He saw Baelkor’s face beyond. He met the first servants of Uvdar’s eyes as he unleashed flame upon his Tree of Damnation, but that part he could not speak of. Not to anyone, and certainly not someone he did not trust.

They passed a group of apprentice wizards, all glancing their way. A couple nodded a greeting in Hump’s direction. Once they were past, Hump heard them whispering excitedly with each other. Back in Sheercliff, Wizard Quinton had told Hump that the younger generation looked up to him. Hump hadn’t imagined his name had reached this far.

“It is the tale of a hero. You must have been surprised that your popularity has reached even here.”

“It’s taken some getting used to.”

“Indeed. No wizard has achieved such a public accomplishment in a long time. It’s good. I have heard mention of the White Flame amongst people in all avenues of life.”

“It seems unlikely that I will ever escape the title,” Hump said.

“There are worse titles to have. Do you know what they used to call me?”

Hump looked at the man and shook his head.

“The Iron Hand,” he said, chuckling to himself. “Hardly could you think of a less interesting title, wouldn’t you say?”

Hump swallowed, mouth suddenly going dry. He’d heard of the Iron Hand. There were few wizards that hadn’t. He was a legendary warlock hunter that struck fear into the hearts of all who pursued magic. Hump’s own master had told him the tale of his name, and how all who fell to the dark arts would one day meet his fist.

“Well, that’s enough about this for today,” Aldric said. “We’re here.”

They reached the library. Tall walls of yellow brick gave some glimpse of its age. Here stood a building with a millennium behind it, and all the books that came with it. They made their way inside, taking a small staircase up to the top floor. There, they came to a door that Aldric activated using his essence. However it worked, Hump couldn’t tell, yet he knew he would not be able to get inside without Aldric’s help.

“You will find something here to your liking, I’m sure. Two Tier 5 spells and a Tier 6 spell is quite the haul for a day’s work. Choose wisely.”

Hump searched through the spellbooks, each of them contained behind glass panels. He moved between them, enamoured by the many different spells, overwhelmed by the selection, and paralysed with indecision. Each book was a work of art, bound in gold and silver and the most perfect leather. One thing he knew was that he wanted something for each of his strongest affinities.

Each of them came with a note, giving their name and a basic description of their power. Hump took them all in. Too many drew his interest. Verdant Surge, a spell that summoned a burst of vegetation, entangling and immobilising foes while draining their essence to grow faster like some tomb of nature. Granite Fortress was another one that sounded useful, forming a fortification out of nothing but the earth and essence. Volcanic Eruption certainly drew his attention, but to take another Tier 6 lava spell seemed beyond his needs, their destructive capabilities being a boon but also limiting their usage.

Aldric stood at the doors, leaning against the wall and watching with disinterest.

Hesitantly, Hump asked, “I don’t suppose you could recommend something to me. I want to work on my fundamentals.”

“You wish to work on your fundamentals—that is respectable and something too few wizards do these days. But let me ask you a question. How many spells do you know outside of battle magic?”

“A few, but not very many,” Hump said.

“Why is that?”

“What’s the point in training in magics I won’t need?”

“Battle magic exists to be used in the heat of combat. It is fast and abrasive and powerful, but it lacks much of the intricacies that go into other magic. It lacks much of the beauty.”

“Beauty?” Hump asked.

The man raised his wand, essence pouring from it. “Aurora.”

Light appeared through the room, waving and bright, brilliant green. Hump watched at it, marvelling as the colours swept around him. Amongst them, Hump saw ships sailing, down to the oars moving and tiny people on board.

It was magnificent and beautiful.

“If you wish to master the fundamentals, you must expand beyond what you need and delve into magics that you never thought you would know.”

The man started to walk away, when Hump stopped him. “Before you go, Wizard Aldric, is there something you would recommend? A spell for which I could practice.”

“What are your affinities?” the man asked.

“Earth, Fire, and Nature, are my strongest,” Hump said.

The man’s eyebrows rose. “That’s a lot of affinities.” He stroked his beard as wizards do, then went to a dusty shelf. He pulled out a spellbook and handed it to Hump. “Silver Rain.”

“This is what I recommend,” he said.

“It’s a Tier 4 spell,” Hump said.

The man nodded. “A spell that requires you to understand the many forces at work in the world, and that will draw upon your nature affinity. Best of luck. You can select your own spells granted to you by the Inquisition.”

Hump’s eyes went back to the many choices. It was time to make a decision.