The following day, Syryn ran into Grifan in a corridor not far from his room. Arhak had been sent away on an errand and was yet to return.
The gold mer was accompanied by two other mers of nobility. Syryn could tell their breeding by the ornaments that differentiated the commoners from the royals and nobles.
"Syryn, how are you?" The gold mer asked, seemingly concerned about his well being. Grifan gave Syryn the chills when he recalled how the mer had tried to psychically influence him.
"I'm great, and in a hurry," the mage replied. "My apologies but I have to be somewhere else right now." Syryn sped past the mer but he was pulled back by a hand that gripped him tight around his upper arm.
"You must have a few minutes to spare for me, don't you, Syryn?" Grifan's nose was inches away from his. A cloud of fog seemed to hang over Syryn's mind.
"Ye-yes... I do." The mage blinked, confused.
