CHAPTER 15
At first, Druzeel thought he was standing in front of the wrong place for when he went to look for Piyus, he had originally been searching for a tower. Since Graeak and every other wizard he had read about lived in the great columns of stone and steel, he assumed that Piyus would as well, but what he saw before him was like nothing he had ever seen.
It was a perfect dome, measuring over two hundred yards in diameter and stretching almost one hundred feet high. It appeared to be made of stone but carried none of the qualities associated with the hard material. Instead, it looked to be covered by a single sheet of mirror, encompassing the entire surface, reflecting the sky and the surrounding buildings. Druzeel could only imagine the shine that bounced off its surface during the day. Somehow, he knew it wouldn’t be as harsh as it should be, but still, it would be quite a sight. Even at night, the building sparkled from the thousands of torches and magical light that sat throughout the city. The wizard’s home was marvelous and filled the young wizard with wonder. It also stirred a deep curiosity inside him. He couldn’t begin to imagine what the inside looked like.
The archmage’s home was surrounded by a tall fence, consisting of black poles that stretched over ten feet high. Among the hundreds of shafts of iron and charming scrollwork were designs in the forms of dragons, unicorns, and other magical creatures, giving even the surrounding border a mystical feel and look. Druzeel found that if he stared too long at the metal animals they almost seemed to move, dancing along the fence line. As he made his way to the entrance, he swore that a handful of the iron beasts were actually following him, watching his every move.
Beyond the fence were grounds filled with colorful flowers, decorative stone pavers, and shrubbery that lent beauty and grace to the archmage’s gardens. Bright green trees, stone planters, bird baths, and other decorative garden accessories lay scattered through the area. Druzeel would dare say that the green area before him rivaled that of even Graeak’s.
The entrance consisted of two giant gates, each holding a large M that sparkled with bluish light. The thick letters looked like the night sky, filled with scintillating stars. Each was surrounded by elegant scroll patterns that ended in leaves, flowers, or, as any wizard should be quick to notice, runes that certainly held magical power. Though Piyus’s home and the surrounding area was beautiful, Druzeel thought it was a bit overdone, that Piyus was going a little too far to let everyone know exactly how wonderful, or magnificent, he was.
“Please state your name and business at the house of Piyus the Magnificent,” came a soft voice out of nowhere. Druzeel looked all around but found no one but himself standing anywhere near the gates. The sound seemed to come from the gates themselves.
“Uh...” Druzeel began but stopped. He knew the voice had been magically produced and that someone inside the dome was probably watching him right now, so he quickly composed himself and started again. “Druzeel Sesstar, apprentice to Lord Graeak Loyalar, come to see Piyus the Magnificent for aid in finding a stolen artifact.”
There was silence for a few moments. Then there came the sound of a latch being pulled back. The gates before Druzeel slowly opened.
“Enter and be welcomed,” the soft voice said. “Piyus the Magnificent will meet you in the vestibule of The Eye of All Things. Please follow the path in front of you.”
Druzeel waited until the gates had come to a stop before walking in. In front of him was a stone path that led all the way up to the dome, or The Eye of All Things, as the voice had called it. There were separate trails that broke off from the one he traveled down but he did not deviate and walked straight towards the dome, which at first, seemed to have no entrance. When he came within a few feet, a doorway suddenly appeared. The wall just faded away, leaving nothing but an entrance. Druzeel slowed momentarily, eyeing the opening with a little trepidation, but saw nothing out of the ordinary and walked inside.
Druzeel walked into a large circular foyer composed mostly of a deep gray brick. Large plates of bronze, some many yards wide, sat scattered throughout the chamber, on every surface. There was no pattern to the plates, no reason for them being where they were. It appeared that someone had just walked in and thrown them all around, uncaring as to where they stuck. Though strange, the shiny plates added a certain style to the architecture.
Above his head, almost thirty feet high, hung a large pendant the size of a giant’s leg, made of shiny plates and rods of silver. The dozen or so elements of the pendant intersected each other and the three balls of light, each the size of a man’s head, that were constantly rotating around and through them reflected off the shiny surfaces, lighting up the room. Druzeel found it odd that the light bouncing off the pendant did not reflect off the bronze plates sitting around the room. It was as if the slivers of metal weren’t even in place. The young wizard knew magic had something to do with the lack of reflective light.
Besides Druzeel and a few pieces of decorative furniture, the room was empty. A handful of doors sat against the walls of the lower level, each made of shiny bronze. Druzeel assumed there were many more sitting in the walls of the two levels above him but he could not see them because of where he stood. It was quiet, a bit chilly, and very cold. It gave him the feeling of being in a mortuary and it was not at all what he expected.
Suddenly, a puff of yellow smoke appeared only a few feet from Druzeel, followed by the smell of burnt cinnamon. It startled him and caused him to stumble back a few steps. When the smoke cleared, Piyus the Magnificent was standing before him.
Just like his home, Piyus did not dress as a typical wizard. He held no staff, and wore no robes or cloak, just close fitting clothing that made him look very skeletal and gaunt. He had on a flat yellow doublet with long open sleeves, revealing a deep gray shirt underneath. His gray pants were a bit puffy but narrowed as they came close to the knees. Tall yellow boots came up just below the knees and his shins were covered with guards of bronze. Short yellow gloves protected his hands and like his shins, his forearms were covered in long plates of bronze. He wore a simple belt lined with small pouches and a handful of rings decorated his fingers. If other jewelry or trinkets covered his body, they were well hidden.
Piyus had deep blue eyes, almost gray, a narrow nose, and a thin, narrow mouth. His head was hairless but the sides of it were covered in wild, dark gray hair. A beard, similarly wild and unkempt, covered the bottom half of his face. Someone just meeting the man would think him lacking in wits and a bit maniacal, but Druzeel knew from listening to Graeak that the man before him was a powerful wizard and a kind, honest man.
“Young Master Sesstar,” Piyus said, his voice deep and throaty. The tone surprised Druzeel for he did not expect someone so skinny to speak with such force. “Welcome to my home.”
“My lord,” Druzeel responded with a respectful bow. “Thank you for seeing me at such a late hour.”
“Always have I time for one of Graeak’s students,” the tall archmage said. “Tell me, how is Lord Loyalar these days? It has been some time since last he and I spoke.”
“He is well,” Druzeel replied, “though time has finally caught up with him.”
“Yes,” Piyus said, stroking his beard. “Time has a habit of doing such things.”
If Druzeel remembered correctly, Piyus was a decade or two younger than his mentor and like Graeak, like all wizards it seemed, he used certain magics and potions to keep himself young. Where Piyus and his friends differed though was Piyus had yet to stop using those magics to keep himself young and full of vigor. Eventually, they would all lose their potency, but the eccentric archmage planned on using them for as long as he could.
“You wear a look of urgency,” Piyus said, waving his hands in the air. Druzeel was unsure of what he was doing. He just watched in silence, waiting for his host to finish. “Sit and let us talk.”
“That’s fine,” Druzeel said, “but there is nowhere to–”
Druzeel looked around, astonished to see that he now stood in a completely
separate room. Gone were the high ceilings and giant pendant. In their place sat a small library, with shelves of books, a pair of couches, dozens of candelabras, and a table holding two glasses of wine and a platter of bread and cheeses. He hadn’t even felt the magic that had transported them here. The change had been so subtle, Druzeel really couldn’t be sure if it was himself or the room that had actually changed positions.
“Please,” Piyus said, motioning for him to sit on one of the couches. The archmage wore a knowing smile, delighted by his guest’s surprise.
“A neat trick,” Druzeel said, taking a seat across from the wizard.
“Trick?” Piyus asked with raised eyebrows. “I guess that is what some may call it.”
“Did Graeak contact you?” Druzeel asked, wondering if his mentor had told his old friend to expect him. If he had, that would explain the fun Piyus was having with him. If not, then the man truly was as bizarre and strange as Druzeel had heard.
“Though I would have liked that, I have not spoken to my old friend in some time. I dare say that we both can share the blame for our lack of communication. A wizard’s life can be very involved.” Piyus’s eyes wondered for a few seconds, as if he was searching his mind for something. Druzeel raised his eyebrows in confusion but remained silent. He did not want to disturb whatever the man was trying to do. Perhaps age was getting to him as well.
“The last time Graeak and I spoke,” Piyus said as if he had never stopped talking, “was many years ago, but I distinctly remember him talking about a very bright young student he had the privilege to teach, a young man by the name of Druzeel Sesstar. I must say, it is nice to finally put a face to the one who has managed to thoroughly impress my old friend.”
Druzeel couldn’t help but smile at the words of praise. He knew Graeak spoke highly of him, but it made his heart beat with pride even more to hear that he spoke of him to another great archmage.
“Thank you,” Druzeel said. “I have learned so much under him.”
“Yes,” Piyus commented. “More importantly, you have learned when to ask for help when something is beyond you. It is important for a wizard to realize when he can’t do something, otherwise he will never learn how to do it. Of course, there is not much that Piyus the Magnificent cannot do!”
That comment set Druzeel back a little. It was said that Piyus was strange and eccentric. Druzeel thought the rumors should have added egotistical and narcissistic, but then again, what wizard isn’t?
“So,” Piyus said, leaning back, taking a sip of his wine. “What is it that I can help you with?”
Druzeel let go of those last comments and immediately started to tell Piyus what happened at Graeak’s tower and why he was in Pelartis. Though Brask and the others said to be careful with the information they let out, he told the archmage everything. This was Graeak’s friend and Druzeel knew he could trust him. When he was finished, he sat back, waiting for his host to respond. For many minutes, Piyus just sat in silence, his eyes staring right at Druzeel. The gaze was starting to make the young wizard uncomfortable. It was as if the man was looking through him, into his very soul. He was about to say something but luckily, Piyus finally decided to speak.
“Interesting,” the man said, tugging–actually pulling!–on his beard. “This assassin possesses strong magic indeed to break in and out of Graeak’s tower, though I wonder if the wards were properly set.”
“Graeak’s magic wouldn’t–” Druzeel started to say in anger, jumping to defend his teacher, but Piyus cut him off, waving his hand across his face.
“No matter,” the man said without care, rising to his feet. He started waving his hands through the air. “Let’s see if we can find this staff.”
This time, Druzeel paid attention to what was happening around him. The room began to quickly change. The walls shifted and twisted, growing taller and moving further away from him. The couches faded, replaced by stacks of books and scrolls. The bookshelves changed as well, but instead of disappearing completely, they grew larger and taller, shooting upwards many feet, stopping only when they hit the ceiling, some forty feet above. A handful of large fixtures appeared overhead, lighting the room with orange candlelight. Small tables suddenly sprang up and long cabinets and chests full of wondrous items appeared along the edge of the new room taking shape. Perhaps most impressive of all was the large crystal sphere that materialized in between Druzeel and Piyus. The orb was the size of a large chest and sat on a stand in the form of silver dragon wings.
The entire change lasted less than three heartbeats. When it was complete, Druzeel found himself standing it what looked like Piyus’s personal casting chambers. The room was very large, stretching at least a hundred feet, end to end. There were smaller levels above him, each filled with books, tomes, scrolls, and other works of literature. The shelves were full, the chests overflowing with clothing, and the floor was littered with parchment and other debris. It looked like something had exploded in here, but when Piyus went off to a large desk on the far side of the room, humming as he went, Druzeel knew that what he saw was perfectly normal.
“Do your servants come in here?” Druzeel asked, wondering if the man even had servants. He hadn’t seen another soul since entering the dome and besides the voice that had spoken to him at the gates, Piyus was the only other being that had talked to him.
“They are not allowed in here,” Piyus said, thumbing through a tome almost as thick as Druzeel’s leg. The man’s words at least confirmed that there were others in the building, even if he hadn’t seen any. Druzeel knew firsthand that just because you did not see them did not mean they weren’t there. In The Fount, the servants only did their work very late at night, as to not disturb the students or their mentor, but wasn’t it late right now?
Pushing the thoughts to the side, Druzeel looked around the chamber for an exit, thinking that perhaps the only way in was to teleport, which would explain why he had not seen anyone, but he quickly found a handful of bronze doors, easing his growing sense of claustrophobia. Though he was used to living in a tower, he always like to know where the exits were.
Druzeel turned away from Piyus and walked over to the orb. Inside was a swirling mass of blue and silver clouds. They were constantly moving, like an ocean being assaulted by a strong wind. It reminded him of the beginnings of a rainstorm, just before Fthairial, goddess of the sky, unleashed thunder and lightning upon the world. If not for the implied threat that Druzeel saw within his mind, the scene playing out inside the orb could be considered beautiful.
“All right,” Piyus said, drawing Druzeel’s attention. He slammed the tome shut and walked over to the orb, standing directly in front of it. “Let us see if we can find your assassin. I have a picture of the man you described and that should prove adequate enough for me to find him, but stay close and keep your mind open just in case.”
Druzeel nodded and backed away, giving the archmage as much room as he could. He had watched Graeak perform these spells before, and done a few himself, and knew that sometimes, when calling upon strong magic, one needed plenty of room to move around.
“This assassin,” Piyus said, looking at Druzeel, “possesses strong magic and will most likely have wards and shields protecting him. You know what may happen when trying to locate him. I suggest you take precaution.”
Suddenly, Piyus didn’t sound so confident. Perhaps he was just being cautious or maybe honest. One never knew what could happen when trying to locate someone that may not want to be located. Piyus was a powerful archmage yes, but when trying to scry, more often than not, one had to be many times stronger than the wards protecting the intended subject in order to break through. It was much easier to defend than it was to attack. Knowing what may happen, Druzeel nodded to the archmage and cast a series of spells on himself. Should a magical backlash or something else detrimental occur, his spells should keep him safe.
Once Druzeel was finished, Piyus voiced the simplest of divination spells. On the slight chance the
assassin was not shielded, the magic should have made him appear within the orb, but as expected, the clouds remained unchanged.
For the next twenty or so minutes, Piyus continued with his spell casting, each time, using a slightly stronger spell then the last. His hands glow an array of vibrant colors each time he used his magic and a few times the clouds inside the crystal orb moved as if they were going to suddenly part and reveal what they were looking for, but each time nothing happened. The sphere just stayed dark and unresponsive.
“Who are you?” Piyus asked. For a moment, Druzeel though the archmage was speaking to him but he quickly realized he was talking to himself.
“Perhaps we should focus on the staff first,” Druzeel suggested, thinking that it would be much easier to find. Of course, if the staff were still with the assassin, locating it would be the same as locating the thief.
“I have already tried,” the archmage said, never once taking his eyes from the orb in front of him. “Either your assassin has sold it and it is still shielded, which is unlikely, or it is still with him. Whoever this man is, he has powerful magic protecting him.”
“So he has eluded us yet again,” Druzeel said, distraught. Piyus finally looked away from the orb, meeting his eyes.
“I have not even begun!” Piyus exclaimed, his eyes flashing. “There has never been a man, woman, or beast that has long stayed hidden from Piyus the Magnificent!”
Druzeel thought he heard a small amount of insanity creeping into the archmage’s voice. He knew the man was a bit odd, but the tone gave him worry. How far was Piyus willing to go? Would he be willing to put himself in harm’s way to find this assassin? Would he put me in danger? Druzeel asked himself.
Though troubled by the expression on Piyus’s face, Druzeel pushed the concerns from his mind. He had to trust the archmage to control himself. He had to trust that Graeak would not send him to a dangerous man. Besides, Druzeel was willing to put up with a certain amount of madness to catch this thief. His teacher was depending on him and he was willing to let Piyus do what he wanted in order not to fail, not that he could stop him anyway. He also wanted to show the others that they could depend on him and that he was actually worth something. If Piyus found the assassin, Druzeel would have something to give to Brask and the young wizard wanted nothing more than to shut the man up about how useless he was.
Piyus began to wave his hands through the air above the orb. He moved in smooth motions, his body rocking from side to side. He started slowly at first, but as time flowed by, his movements sped up. Druzeel had never seen this type of casting before, but then again, he had never met a man quite like Piyus. He continued to watch in wonder as a yellow glow took form around the archmage’s hands and the clouds inside the orb swirled and danced, picking up speed as he went. Words started to pour from his mouth as he called forth the magic he would need to locate the assassin. As he spoke, magic and energy slowly filled the room and gathered around the archmage. Druzeel was acutely aware of the power rising around him. He could feel it on his skin, smell it in the air, and could see it in the maelstrom in the center of the orb. Piyus felt it as well for his voice just became louder, his movements more distinct as he continued the spell.
This was awesome magical power, Druzeel thought to himself, spells and energy that he rarely was able to witness in use. He had seen Graeak use this level of magic before, but only on a few occasions and only when the need was absolutely necessary. Power like this was usually reserved for dire situations. Knowing that, Druzeel once again became worried that Piyus was going too far, that he was using too much for the help that Druzeel had asked him for. He wanted to find the assassin, but he also did not want the city to explode, or himself for that matter.
The orb started to glow and hum as the magic continued to gather within. The clouds danced wildly, swirling and twisting as the miniature storm raged within. Druzeel thought he even started to see bolts of lightning within the chaos of the orb. It was amazing and freighting at the same time. He found himself slowly backing away, wanting the protection of a thick stone wall between himself and the spectacle before him.
“Reveal yourself!” Piyus suddenly shouted, startling Druzeel. The archmage thrust his hands forward, throwing all the power he had gathered at the orb, commanding the assassin to appear.
Sparks of purple light suddenly broke out all over the room. Druzeel was almost singed by one, but he managed to turn away just before it burned his face. He quickly cast another spell, protecting him from such bursts, but then a terrible rumble shook the room and he was thrown to the ground. A rough wind also materialized inside the casting chamber, throwing parchment and books into the air. The tumult deafened Druzeel, but he managed to find his feet. He grabbed hold of a railing to steady himself and looked toward Piyus.
Amazingly, the archmage was still on his feet, continuing to throw his magic at the orb. Was he smiling? Druzeel asked himself, unsure of the expression on the man’s face, but Piyus’s face was the last of Druzeel’s worries. He quickly turned toward the orb and his eyes widened in fear.
The sphere was glowing purple, a deep shade of violet that seemed to suck the light from the room. Dozens of arcs of lighting danced along its surface, coming within inches of striking Piyus. The blue and silver clouds that had resided inside the crystal sphere were gone, replaced by a black that was so absolute that Druzeel swore he was staring at the end of time. The darkness pierced him to his core and he found himself unable to look at it for more than a few seconds.
In the name of the gods! Druzeel screamed to himself. What kind of foul, evil magic did the assassin have? What type of man would even deal with something so vile? And how can it be so powerful?! This was no normal sorcery. This was pure, unadulterated evil and it shook Druzeel more than he cared to admit. A part of him wanted flee, to run screaming back to Graeak and tell him to give up his chase, but the goodness, honor, and valor in him would not allow it. This man, this thief, must be found and brought to justice, not just because of what he has done, but for what he was: a tool of evil, a weapon of hatred and wickedness that must be undone.
The archmage seemed not to notice or feel any of these things. He just peered into the orb, continuing to pour his magic forth. Even as the chamber shook, as the burst of lights increased in size and heat, and the room was torn apart, Piyus just pounded away at whatever was fighting his magic, determined to break through no matter the cost.
“It’s too much!” Druzeel shouted over the wind, his voice thick with concern and fear. “You must stop!”
“Reveal to me!” the man just shouted, ignoring Druzeel’s words. He sent a final surge of magic at the orb, his strongest since beginning. The crystal, and whatever was fighting him, absorbed the energy and the hum coming from the orb increased tenfold. It vibrated the entire room, tipping piles of books and sending the hundreds of tomes on the shelves crashing to the floor. As the seconds flew by, the tempo only increased.
Druzeel ducked, thinking that the explosion he was expecting was about to happen. He knew a simple railing would not save him but his instincts told him to take covered behind whatever he could find. Piyus just took a single step back, his eyes never leaving the blackness before him.
Suddenly, there was a loud pop as all of Piyus’s wards went off. Sparks and small explosions filled the air, some of them catching books and parchment on fire. Druzeel rolled away as the small pile of books he hid behind burst into flames. He jumped to his feet and tried to put out the flames, but his attention soon turned to the center of the room as a tremendous crack filled the air.
The wind, humming, and shaking suddenly stopped. The only noise was the crackling of flames and the sound of parchment falling to the floor. Piyus and Druzeel stood frozen in shock, their eyes on the crystal sphere, which now had a large crack splitting its surface. Gone was the glow and lighting, but also missing were the silver and blue clouds that Druzeel had seen when first laying eyes of the artifact. The only thing in the cente
r of the orb was a flat, gray mist and even that was slowly fading away. The sphere was now just a normal, broken piece of crystal, its magic completely gone.
“Well,” Piyus said as if he had just broken a simple wine glass, “that was interesting.”
Druzeel stared at the man in amazement for many moments, but soon turned his attention to the small bonfire in front of him. Tiny fires burned all throughout the room and if not doused, they would quickly spread.
“My lord,” he pleaded, looking to Piyus, “the flames.”
“Huh?” Piyus said, finally tearing his gaze from the orb. He looked around the room, his face going from intrigue to surprise. It was as if he was just noticing the destruction around him. “Oh, dear.”
With a few waves of his hands, the fires slowly died. All that remained were a few columns of black smoke. The mess remained but he did not seem too concerned. When the flames were gone, he turned back to face the orb, curiosity returning to his face. He also started to tug on his beard.
“I’m sorry about your orb,” Druzeel said, walking up next to the man.
“Yes,” Piyus said, not really hearing him. His eyes were wide as he stared down at his broken sphere.
“Piyus?” Druzeel said, reaching to touch the man. “Are you all right?” As soon as he placed his hand on the archmage’s shoulder, Piyus threw his hands up and shouted.
“Interesting indeed!” he exclaimed in merriment. The suddenly expressive movement startled Druzeel and he stumbled back, unsure of what to expect. “Yes, very interesting. I’ve never quite had an experience like it. How about you?” he asked, his eyes drifting to Druzeel, who wore a confused expression.
“Are...Are you all right?” he asked again.
“Fine,” Piyus said, turning from the orb, searching the piles at his feet for something. “Yes, fine, fine.”
“I’m...sorry about the orb,” Druzeel repeated, unsure of what to do next. Piyus appeared not to care. He just rummaged through a pile of books, finally coming up with a large tome, the same one he had looked through before he started looking for the assassin.
“What?” he asked, looking up from his book. “Oh, yes, well, not to worry. I have dozens.” He looked back at the ancient pages.
“What happened?” Druzeel asked, wanting to know what that was he saw within the orb. He knew it was not just some simple ward the assassin had used to defend against Piyus’s scrying magic. It was something else entirely, some type of unknown power that he had never seen before.
“I’m not entirely sure,” Piyus said, still not looking up from his tome. “Something powerful, something very evil is protecting your thief. I have never felt a presence like it.”
“Presence?”
“Yes,” Piyus answered. “Whatever this was, it was sentient and did not appreciate me trying to pry. Instead of fighting me with its own magic, it sent my spells back at me, perverted them in some way as to make them hostile. Quite brilliant, actually. If not for my wards, I daresay you and I would be just a few red stains in the middle of a crater that was my home.”
Druzeel visibly paled at the archmage’s words. He did not like the vision that suddenly popped into his head. The fact that Piyus seemed delighted by what happened only made it worse.
Who in the hells was the assassin working for? Druzeel asked himself. How had he come by such potent magic?
“So what happens now?” he soon asked, after gathering his thoughts.
“Now?” Piyus asked, looking up from his tome. “Now I have work to do. I want to find out what that was and exactly how it did what it did. It is not every day that you have an encounter with this type of power.”
“I meant about the assassin,” Druzeel said. “And the staff.”
“Forget about them,” Piyus said, waving his hand around, as if they no longer mattered. “This is far more exciting!”
“I can’t just forget about them,” Druzeel exclaimed, his voice thick with annoyance and rising anger. Piyus seemed to have forgotten all about the reason for Druzeel coming to him. No, he had not forgotten, the young wizard told himself. He just didn’t care anymore and that was unacceptable. He and Graeak needed his help.
“Graeak is depending on me and the others on finding the assassin, bringing him to justice, and returning the staff,” Druzeel argued. “He put his trust in me and I will not stop until I have found the thief. I can’t let him down, I can’t let myself down. I have to show him I can do this.”
For the first time since Druzeel had been in the tower, Piyus looked at him, really looked at him as if understanding his feelings. For a moment, his gaze drifted away from Druzeel, as if he was remembering something. His eyes softened and his expression showed compassion. He walked over and gently set down the large book he was holding. Then he walked back to Druzeel and set his hand on his shoulder. He took a deep breath.
“For the time being, I have done all that I can. This power blocking my magic is unique and I simply do not know enough about it to combat it properly. I will do my best to learn more and break through, but like all magical research, as I am sure you know, this can take much longer then we both desire. Until that time, I suggest you return to your friends and see what they have uncovered. If I happen to uncover anything that will be of use to you, I shall contact you immediately. You have my word.”
Druzeel’s anger quickly melted away, but it was replaced with disappointment. He was not disappointed with Piyus for the man had truly done all he could. He was dismayed that they had found out nothing about the thief, except that he had powerful magic at his disposal, something they already knew. The fact that Piyus heard his pleas and understood his feelings helped him to cope with the new feeling of frustration and it renewed Druzeel’s respect of the man. The archmage really was just as outlandish as all the rumors said he was, and his changes in behavior were no exception.
“Thank you,” Druzeel said. “I appreciate your help and any aid you may provide in the future. Would you like some help cleaning up?” he asked, willing to help put the room back together. After all, the chamber was so disheveled because of his request.
“No,” Piyus responded with care. “Thank you. This little mess will hardly take a few minutes to organize. Return to your companions and find this assassin. Remember, Graeak is counting on you.”
Druzeel offered a smile and nod. He turned to go but suddenly realized that he had no idea where in the dome he was or how to get out.
“Um...” he said, “how do I get out of here?”