Mirabelle sat at her desk in the dusty and empty room. She held her forehead with her hands as she thought about her apprentice, Amie. The young woman had shown talent. Mirabelle was at a loss of what she could do. She had met her husband, and the poor man certainly missed Amie. She had hired a few lawyers to go over and find anything that would spare the woman’s life. Each request to visit her was denied, both to her and Eric. Mirabelle knew that Amie’s execution was certain. That was a fact, but for some reason the date kept being pushed further into the future.

Changing one’s affinity just hadn’t been possible. It was like changing one’s own race. It just hadn’t been possible. Mirabelle had seen it twice. There had to be something to the book that she had mentioned. The suppression tools they had used on her also weren’t as effective. Someone must be scared. That was all Mirabelle could think. There was also the chance that Amie had already been killed quietly.

She needed to know more about what happened to the woman. One of the perks of being a master was that the tower tracked an apprentice’s location and kept a record of where they had gone. Mirabelle was a divinity wizard she had never concerned herself with visiting the higher floors of the tower. With a little effort, she could see her apprentice’s past. She would need to gather Eric and a couple other wizards. It would help if she could find other’s with a little more connection to her. She would need to speak to the dwarf. Amie sighed. They had been friends once.

She set about preparing for a ritual. She filled a large bowl with water stared. She hadn’t had the opportunity to work within her school of magic for a while. There was a certain nervous energy that worked through her body as she practice on herself. She focused on the spell that she had engraved into her very soul all those years ago. She focused on a point a few minutes in the past. Nothing too draining, and there she was. A gnome sitting at a desk with her forehead resting on her hands. Mirabelle cut the connection and the picture in the water faded.

Mirabelle took a deep breath.

“You can do this Mirabelle,” she said to herself, “He’s just a dwarf.”

She still was nervous, but she left before the anxiety took hold.

The trip to the cavern hadn’t been anything special. People still streamed through the elevators with places to go. There was a desire for having a staff elevator, but it probably would be just as congested. Traveling through the tower as a gnome had never been fun. She was far smaller than the majority of the races that lived within the city. Gnomes were a minority here. She was one of the rare magically minded of her kind. Her race tended to be reclusive and work on their own projects. She yearned for the hills of her youth in times like this. Maybe she should retire. The thought had crossed her mind more than once. If she did though, there wouldn’t be anyone to teach her magic. That would be a shame.

She breezed through the gate at the bottom, with a flash of her pin at the clerk. She followed the twists and turns of the underground. The streets weren’t as crowded as they had been in the tower. She still felt a bit uncomfortable walking by a few groups of humans on her way to the dwarf’s shop. When she arrived, it was as plain as ever.

“OK, Mirabelle,” she said to herself, “It’s time.”

She opened the door to a familiar jangle.

“I’ll be right up,” called the voice in back.

After a while, the same familiar bearded face peered down at her from over the counter.

“Out,” He said.

“I need a favor,” Mirabelle replied.

They both stood in silence, staring at each other.

“Fine,” he said, “Just go around in back.”

Mirabelle left the room with the door jangling as she opened it and proceeded to the back of the building. The dwarf opened the door and ushered her in. Mirabelle hadn’t been back here in a while. Various half completed projects littered multiple surfaces. Along the back wall she saw boxes with names of Mammot’s various clients.

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“It’s a little more cramped back here than I remember.”

Mammot sighed and pulled out a stool, sized perfectly for the gnome. He gestured at the stool and took his seat. Mirabelle climbed the stool and stared at the dwarf. He didn’t appear angry. He was just sad. Mirabelle was sad too. They sat for a while not saying a word.

Mammot broke the spell by speaking first, “What’s the favor?”

“I need a formation,” Mirabelle said.

“Is this for your apprentice?” Mammot asked.

Mirabelle nodded.

“Of course it is,” he said as he gently stroked his beard, “You always cared a lot for your apprentices.”

“I liked her,” she said, “and her husband was quite friendly.”

“How many wizards do you need?” asked Mammot, “and when will you need us?”

“I think an additional two or three, and I think at about this time tomorrow.

Mammot nodded, “Are we meeting at your office?”

“Yes, I have to fetch her husband next.”

Mirabelle started to get down from her seat.

“Wait,” said Mammot.

He walked to the tagged boxes and pulled out a box with Amie’s name on it. He handed it over to Mirabelle.

“What’s this?” Mirabelle said as she opened it.

“It’s just her focus,” Said Mammot, “I figured it might help.”

“Thank you.” Said Mirabelle as she left.

Mammot just nodded as she left.

——

Omar loved the plains. He felt like he could see for miles as he stared across them. The flat land was always a unique experience. Something about the plains of The Second Tower had always captivated him. There were no trees, for better or for worse. There were unique animals that couldn’t be found anywhere else. Though, that was probably more because of the effects of mana mutation than any thing else. He thought a little, trying to remember his favorite. There were too many.

“Have you ever seen a mana mutation?” asked Omar.

Qinran shook his head. They both continued walking, following the caravan.

“I have, Every single time it’s something different.”

“What brought this about?” asked Qinran.

Omar shrugged, “I don’t know, I just like it out here.”

“Should we be worrying about mana mutations?” asked Qinran.

“I saw a slug the size of a ship once.”

Qinran looked alarmed, “Here?”

“Have you ever seen a Bison?” asked Omar.

“No…”

Omar pointed at a cart that they walked along, “They’re about this big.”

“Are they docile?”

“Eh,” said Omar, as he tapped his chin, “Docile enough?”

“What does that mean?” asked Qinran.

Omar shrugged and moved up the line of merchants and fellow travelers. The Caravan had a decent amount of guards peppered throughout the line. Omar had seen a few familiar faces, but no one that he particularly wanted to talk to. Everyone seemed so much younger. He looked at his hands. He looked younger too, he supposed. Omar would have to take a look at himself in a mirror later. It would be interesting to note the changes. Mirrors were from the rich. Omar then thought of the funds that he had collected along their journey. Maybe he should buy a mirror.

Omar jumped when he felt a hand land on his shoulder. It was the elf Qinran. He was wearing one of the cloaks, but still had yet to wear the headscarf. Omar wondered about that. He had seen each member of the caravan look at the elf with distrust and open hostility. It was probably improved by Omar legally being the elf’s ward. As time went on the open hatred had faded into something less.

“What does ‘docile enough’ mean?” asked Qinran.

Omar shrugged, “They probably wont kill you?”

“Can you describe one?”

Omar tried, but the elf just wasn’t able to see the picture. Omar was certain that his provided descriptions were just confusing the elf more. It probably didn’t help that Omar was also intentionally misleading the elf. Omar enjoyed winding him up. It helped keep the trip from becoming too boring. They probably had another couple of weeks of travel before they got to the end of their trip. He had taken to playing a few card games with others in the caravan. Omar probably went a little too hard on the others as he found that less people wanted to play against him each time. Omar was suffering from success.

Omar spotted movement from the side of his vision. They were bison! He nudged at the elf that stood beside him.

“See that?” Omar said as he pointed at a rising dust cloud.

The elf squinted as he stared at it, “What is that?”

“Bison!” Omar exclaimed.

“How is it making such a large dust cloud?”

“No, the bison travel in herds.”

A look of panic crossed the elf’s face. Omar started laughing.

“We’ll be fine, if we don’t go near them, they won’t go near us.”

Omar wanted to drag it out a little longer. He felt that it wouldn’t be fair to the elf to drag the joke out any longer, however. The herd was getting closer.Omar could still see a twinge of fear as the elf could start making out individual animals.

“They are big,” Qinran said.

Omar nodded.

“Are they some kind of mana mutated cow or something?”

“How do you know what a cow is?” Omar asked.

“I’ve been to other human lands, you know,” Said Qinran defensively.

“Yeah, I guess you have.”

Qinran nodded back as they walked in silence a little more. It was only a few more weeks before they reached The Second Tower.