"That's why I suggest I should accompany you. He won't even notice my presence."
"Negative," I replied. "He's allowed me to come over. He said nothing about me bringing along a chaperone. If he did spot you—"
"He would get that it's standard practice in the Vorgan. He must have some knowledge of our workings."
"I reiterate: no."
"But—"
"Discussion over, Thorne."
He shut his eyes and let out a sigh that lingered in the air akin to a Lurivox's courting call. He opened his eyes again. "Fine. You want Selendis to handle the teleportation, correct?"
"Correct. Is he capable of managing the coordinates?"
"Drevolan said one of his men would implant them directly into the mind of whoever we choose for the spell."
This intrigued me. "How can he do that? How can one of his crew establish that deep a psychic connection with someone they don't know?"
Thorne yawned. "Magic," he replied.
"What sort of magic, Thorne?"
He shrugged. "How would I know?"
"Sounds like Sorcery, boss."
"That's precisely what crossed my mind, Opal."
"Do you suspect he might be employing a Sorcerer?"
"Recall, he spent considerable time out of Terran, during the Regency Break?"
"Yeah. That's accurate."
I flexed my fingers. "Regardless," I declared, "I do wish for Selendis to handle the teleportation. I want him here tomorrow an hour earlier than planned."
Thorne nodded, his expression was listless, signaling his dissatisfaction. Opal was soon going to share this sentiment.
That's the way it goes.
I started preparing the items needed for the magic. I focused solely on my objective, trying not to dwell on how odd it seemed to organize tools, objects, and artifacts before even knowing how I'd utilize any of them. My hands pulled out various items from the bag and arranged them instinctively.
I had no idea what I'd require, given that the magic I was about to undertake was unprecedented; it didn't even exist—except that now, I had to make it happen.
The following day, I arrived at the office too early. I can wait patiently when required, but it's not a preference. I had hours to spare before my appointment at Nocturne Castle, and there was no pressing task at the office. I busied myself for a bit, feigning productivity, then said, "To hell with it," and stepped out.
The sky was a blend of orange-red and gray, ominously low, suggesting an impending rainfall, with the wind blowing in from the sea. I sauntered through my part of town. These few blocks of Avandryl were under my command, and I found satisfaction in this realization. I dropped by to see a guy named Voltaire, my initial boss and subsequently one of my first hires.
I asked, "What's up?"
He responded with a somewhat warm smile, "Just the usual, Viktor."
Interpreting Voltaire always puzzles me. I mean, he could have been in my shoes if he had fought a bit harder, but he chose to maintain a low profile and stay safe. I can respect that decision, I suppose, but I'd respect him more if he had taken the risk. Anyway, who can truly comprehend Imperions?
I probed further, "What's the word on the street?"
"Regarding what?"
"Don't play dumb."
Had he played naive a bit longer, I might have fallen for it, but he asked, "Just that you were double-crossed by one of your Point-men. Who was it?"
"It's irrelevant, Voltaire. And it'll be even less significant shortly."
"Understood."
"Take care."
Exiting Voltaire's store, I made my way towards South Avandryl, the Terran neighborhood.
Opal, perched on my left shoulder, remarked, "The news is spreading, boss."
"I'm aware. I'll have to address it. If people think I'm an easy target, they'll act on it."
Continuing my walk, I mulled over my situation. If luck favored me, Drevolan could help locate Ignar. Would he be inclined to help? I wasn't sure.
"Are you visiting your grandfather, boss?"
"No, not today."
"Then where? Wait, don't tell me. A tavern."
"You guessed it. A tavern."
"Who's going to get you home safely?"
"I'm only planning on one or two drinks."
"We'll see."
"Quiet, Opal."
"Boss, you're still planning to go to Nocturne Castle, right?"
"If I can muster the courage. Now let me think."
Around that time, a drizzle started. Using my connection to the Sovereign Sphere, I created an unseen barrier over my head - a simple spell. Most of the other pedestrians I saw had done the same. The few who hadn't, primarily from the House of Baku, took shelter in doorways or got drenched. The streets turned muddy, and I mentally noted that I had to allocate time to clean my boots. There has to be a spell for that. I'll need to learn it someday.
By the time I crossed DuoVint and entered South Avandryl, the rain had ceased. That was a relief, as very few Terrans are Wizards, and I didn't want to stand out. Granted, my grey and black attire of House Vorgan, along with Opal on my shoulder, already screamed, "Here is a Wizard!" But there was no need to exacerbate the situation.
At this point, Opal picked up on my thoughts and exclaimed, "Hold on, boss. Who do you plan on leaving behind?"
"You, pal. Sorry."
"No way. You can't—"
"Yes, I can. One doesn't bring a Vorgan to meet a Dragonlord. At least not on the first visit."
"But—"
"You're not disposable, you're not naive, and you're not going."
This sparked a debate that lasted until I reached my destination, helping me distract myself from my worries. Truth be told, I was genuinely scared. I badly wanted to avoid this visit, but saw no alternative. The thought of appearing there was inconceivable. Yet, if I didn't take action on Ignar, my reputation would take a hit. In the Vorgan, reputation equates to wealth and security.
I located Verenk's Tavern, exactly where I had been informed, and stepped inside, allowing my eyes to adapt to the dim interior. It was my first visit, but my grandfather had endorsed it as the place to find fine Venorium brandy.
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We need golden tickets and power stones to help the book get more exposure.
If we reach 1500 power stones, I will release two supplementary chapters.
If we reach 100 golden tickets, I will release five supplementary chapters.
Thank You