* * * * *

  Druzeel steered his mount down the street, unsure of where he was or where he was going. Truth be told, he didn’t really care about either one. His mind was so full of anger and resentment that he could have been walking into a raging inferno and he would not have realized it. His mind was clouded so much that his horse actually bumped into a few people, walking without any direction from its rider. Those citizens pushed out of the way raised their voices and shook their fists but that was about the extent of their anger. Druzeel heard none of it. The only noise in his mind was the voices of the two people he had just left.

  How dare they! Druzeel thought to himself in anger. How could they be so bold as to tell him to change everything about himself to make him more agreeable to the group? What would they say if he asked them to do the same? How would they react if he yelled and screamed at them, calling them stupid, ignorant, and childish? Thinking about it now, Druzeel realized he should have asked them to change their ways for they were the ones that were immoral, crude, hostile, and cared for no one but themselves. They were the ones that ignored him and brought the guards ire down upon their heads. They should be the ones to change, to alter their behavior to mimic his own, not the other way around. He was the one following the path of good and righteousness. He was the one with honor and respect. That was how he had lived his life since the day he was born. He was not about to change who he was, everything he believed in to satisfy the egos of a few mercenaries.

  Druzeel continued to brood as his horse moved through the city streets. When he finally looked up, he realized he had traveled a fair distance away from where he had his argument with Dex and Jannda. He had also left over a dozen angry people behind him, his horse having shoved them out of the way. He turned around to see if he could still spot Dex or Jannda, but he had either gone too far or they had left. The only thing that greeted him was a handful of angry stares.

  Not wanting to become even more lost than he already was, Druzeel slowly and carefully directed his horse off to the side, to get out of everyone’s way. He also wanted to take a moment to clear his mind and try to calm down.

  “Anger solves nothing,” his mentor had once told him. “The only thing it does it make one irrational and act without thought or feeling. You must first use your mind to find solutions to your problems and only use your fists if absolutely necessary.”

  Thinking about his mentor’s words made the anger he was feeling start to fade away. He steadied himself on his horse and took about a dozen deep breathes, clearing his mind and forcing himself to calm down. He closed his eyes and thought of nothing else but the task set before him. The sounds of the street slowly faded and he heard nothing but his own breath.

  This practice of deep breathing and concentration had served Druzeel well over the years. It had been one of the first lessons that Graeak had taught him. Becoming a wizard could be very frustrating. The constant studying, hours of research, and the practice of spells could take quite a toll on any man or woman wishing to become a powerful user of magic. Anger was definitely a part of any wizard’s young life for learning spells, getting the gestures correct, and the words in the right order can make anyone go mad. Learning patience and learning how to control your anger was a large part of a magic user’s life.

  Druzeel was thankful for those lessons for Graeak was right, as usual. Getting angry had solved nothing. In fact, it had only caused more problems for now he was separated from the others and had no idea where to go or what to do next. He had read enough of Pelartis to know how to survive and what not to do, but he had no knowledge of the streets or the hundreds of smaller alleyways that ran through the city. He couldn’t even be sure he was on the same street he had been on when he left his companions.

  So what were the others doing? Druzeel asked himself, trying to gather his thoughts. He may be separated from the others, but he could still do his part. He wasn’t going to sit and do nothing. In a few hours, he would met them back at the Wilted Rose, wherever that was, but until then, he would do what he could to find out information on the assassin.

  Dex and Jannda were going to visit some merchant, Druzeel said to himself, and the others were on their way to some of Vistalas’s contacts. Whoever Brask was going to meet Druzeel had little doubt they would be shady individuals, but since they probably dealt in dark deeds, they may have the information the group sought. The merchant could also be useful for rich nobles often had eyes and ears in every level of a city. If the assassin, someone that was hard to notice, tried to sell the artifacts he had stolen from The Fount, the merchant may know someone that would want such an item.

  So, the Knights had two possible options the assassin may take covered. They would be investigating the markets and the more unseemly world of thieves and rouges. That left one area completely left open, and one area in which Druzeel just happened to be an expert.

  After making sure no unwanted attention was directed his way, Druzeel took out the ring Graeak had given him and slipped it on his finger. He turned it three times and peered into the gem. After a small flash and a few seconds, his teacher’s aging face appeared within.

  “My young apprentice,” Graeak said in a soft voice. “How are things going on your quest?”

  He looked just as he had when Druzeel last spoke with him, just before the shadow stalkers had attacked him in the forest. The fact that he had not grown any more haggard looking filled Druzeel with relief. Honestly, he was not sure what to expect when he contacted his teacher. Worry and stress could age a man significantly, but it appeared that Graeak had staved off any more deterioration.

  “They are...” His words fell away.

  Druzeel had contacted Graeak without really thinking on what to tell him. He knew what question he was going to ask, but he had no idea what information to share with him about the journey so far. Do I tell him we were attacked? Druzeel thought to himself. Should I mention the caravan or that we were almost thrown into the dungeons for something we hadn’t done? What about the fight with Dex and Jannda or the confrontation with Brask? Graeak had enough worry on his mind. Druzeel did not want to add anything else.

  “They are progressing,” Druzeel finally said. He knew his teacher would see through his delay, that he would know something was wrong. Luckily, he kept his suspicion to himself.

  “That is good to hear,” the archmage replied, his kind eyes looking into Druzeel’s distressed ones. “How may I be of assistance?”

  Druzeel soon found himself recounting their journey from Atlurul to the streets of Pelartis. He didn’t know why he was telling his teacher this, the man had not actually asked, but he felt like Graeak should know these things. He kept all the negative aspects of his journey to himself though deep inside his mind he knew that his mentor probably already knew about everything that had happened, including the battle against the shadow stalkers and the encounter with the Pillars. Why Graeak kept it to himself, Druzeel did not know. A part of him was thankful for he wanted to look strong and sturdy in front of his teacher, a man he deeply admired. He wanted Graeak to think he was being accepted in the group, even if it wasn’t true.

  “It sounds like things are indeed going well,” Graeak said after Druzeel finished his explanation. “But you didn’t just contact me to tell me how the trip was going, did you?”

  “No,” Druzeel answered truthfully. “The others are pursuing information on the assassin through their various contacts. I took it upon myself to see if I could find something by using ulterior means.”

  “A wise move,” Graeak said. “Use everything at your disposal.”

  “Yes,” Druzeel said, a small amount of satisfaction surging through him. “The real reason I contacted you was to see if Piyus still lived in the city. I know you two have not spoken for some time, but do you know if he is here? If the assassin is here, he may be of some help.”

  Piyus Spellshielder, or Piyus the Magnificent as he was known throughout the lands, was a powerful archmage
that lived in Pelartis. He was also a very good friend of Graeak’s though the two had not spoken for many years. There wasn’t any animosity between the two. They had just lost touch overtime. A wizard’s life was busy and they usually had trouble developing lasting friendships, especially with other wizards. Since Piyus had not lived in Atlurul for many years, the two men had not made the time to make contact. Druzeel had never met Piyus but had heard much about him. Apparently, he was a bit eccentric and a little conceited, but he was supposed to be loyal. If Druzeel told him he was a friend of Graeak’s, that should be good enough.

  “Piyus?” Graeak said. He started to rub his beard, a sign that Druzeel knew meant his teacher was thinking hard. Please tell me he remembers, the young wizard thought. It would concern Druzeel greatly if his mentor couldn’t remember a man such as Piyus. “Yes,” Graeak finally responded after a few seconds, bringing a sigh of relief from Druzeel. “I think he still resides in the city.”

  “Could you...ah...point me in his direction?”

  Graeak smiled, seeming to approve of Druzeel’s line of thinking. If Piyus was still in the city, his magic could aid the party in locating the assassin. “If he is still around, all you have to do is ask someone. I guarantee you will quickly be pointed in the right direction.”

  “Thank you,” Druzeel said, relieved that he may soon have something to show the others. If Piyus came through and his magic proved beneficial, they could have the assassin in no time. Then Brask and the others will see how useful I am, Druzeel thought with a smile. But first, he had to find the illusive archmage.

  “Be safe,” Graeak said, sensing that his young apprentice had everything he needed. “And tell Piyus to contact me after you speak with him. It would be good to see an old friend.”

  “I will,” Druzeel said gladly, seeing a bit of sadness appear on Graeak’s face. He knew his teacher was reliving old memories of himself and Piyus. Druzeel only guessed that the reason he looked sad was that he missed those times, when he was young and vibrant and maybe regretted not contacting his friend more often. Getting old and coming closer to death usually made people a little more nostalgic.

  The gem slowly went dark and Druzeel tucked it into his pocket. He angled his horse back into the streets and made for the nearest cluster of Pillars, this time being careful on where he led his horse. Though he was a little weary to approach the guards after Dex and Jannda’s revelation that they may be spying on him, he knew that not every guard in the city could possibly be watching his every action. He also didn’t want to ask a random stranger for the information he was seeking for he had no knowledge of who was a citizen or who was an outsider. He thought it prudent to ask those who knew the city best.

  True to Graeak’s word, as soon as Druzeel mentioned the name Piyus, the young guard pointed him in the right direction. The archmage was located only a few streets away. Druzeel nodded his thanks and headed in the direction the guard gave him. For the first time since starting the journey, a jolt of excitement flooded through him. He was finally going to show his worth.