* * *
The long hallway of the Island of Mages castle echoed with the sound of Declavius’ boots. One of the youngest wizards on the island quickly rushed toward the great ceremonial hall of the castle. He could not remember when it was the last time he was so excited, it might have been a dozen decades. Rumors that he was the chosen one had already reached him.
Construction of the castle was one of his first childhood memories, it was a few hundred years ago, and now he was likely to be the first one to leave it. Almost all the other mages have strongly remembered the Continent, but that did not stop them from still choosing him. It was not a surprise for him, he was never ashamed to admit that he considered himself a sorcerer with the most energy and potential, the best among them, perhaps with the exception of a few oldest and most experienced. His youthful energy was an advantage over older, those who had a better knowledge of the Continent. His ambition, the eternal desire to be the best one and constant ability to express the cherished characteristics such as treachery, insensitivity or vindictiveness, put him in the forefront of other youthful wizards.
In the ceremonial hall, near the south window, there stood mage chairman, accompanied by a few most respected colleagues, enjoying the view of the sea behind which were lands that they left a long ago. Some of them turned their heads as Declavius entered the room, but the majority remained to stare out the window into the distance. Declavius was not surprised with such behavior. Ever since they felt the spell breaking and magical disappearance of the barrier around the Continent, mages were showing signs of really childish, cheerful behavior. Some acted as if they wanted to immediately take off to the south, but retained enough caution to stay grounded.
“Finally, we welcomed the day when we would regain the possibility to return to the Continent and to start our revenge” chairman has finally shown that he was aware of Declavius’ presence. He started speaking without looking away. Other magicians moved away so that the young wizard could come closer and take a look through the same window, “But before we all go back, we must make our return completely secure. The Damn statuette of Yarael must be completely destroyed because its power is still recoverable.”
Old sorcerer put his hand on Declavius’ shoulder:
“We have chosen you, Declavius, to go to the Continent and to neutralize, destroy the object whose name we do not pronounce, and who is the only human defense from our revenge.”
Declavius’ face lit up with happiness. He had, like all other magicians, remotely sensed that parts of the broken statue were in the possession of two powerful and very capable humans. But that did not worry him, he knew that no member of the order of Mages had no reason to fear no man in this world.
Half an hour later, accompanied by the looks of wizards from the shore of their island, Declavius flew on the wings of icy winds through the Magic Sea to the south, to the Continent.