It's been about three days. All that time, Oliver had been lying in his bed. But finally, after a few days have passed, he woke up. As soon as he opened his eyes and looked around, he felt a terrible pain in his right cheek. It was the terrifying slap that Cirael had given him. It would probably have flattened his head and killed him if he were a normal human, but Oliver was not a normal human. The winged one shouted:
–Ooooooliver! Who's Gerda?! It was bad enough already you're getting harassed by Ciel, a now there's a Gerda?! What are you, the protagonist of a third-rate Asian light novel?!
Oliver looked back at her with a stunned look and replied:
–My dear, what are you talking about? Who's Gerda? I've never heard that name before... although... wait... Gerda... Martha... Ludwig...
The expression on Oliver's face lost all emotion, and he began to slowly rise to a sitting position... only to be smashed back into the bed by his wife's fist.
–It's not funny! Do you know how worried I was?! You almost lost your mind! According to Ciel, you were about to have a breakdown! And you know how that would have turned out!
There was no trace of fake jealousy left, only the real love and concern in Cirael's mind and face... Even though she'd just hit Oliver. Twice. Her husband replied:
–Really, I don't know who they are! I just... felt it. These names are strangely familiar to me. It's like I've heard them many times before... and yes, I agree, I was a little over the top just now, trying to portray that state of mind... but you have to admit, it was funny!
–No!
Sighing and shaking her head, the angel tilted her head to the side and looked at Oliver with a sad expression. She rose from the edge of the bed and placed the tray of food and tea in the Clain heir's lap.
–Never had anything like this happen to you before. With strange names, some graves... please, do not anything stupid anymore, okay?
–Well... I don't like to make promises. But I'll try. I promise.
With a nod, Cirael kissed her husband on the forehead and was about to leave – Oliver needed peace now... which didn't go well with two blows to the face to delivered to her husband, but she knew better. She turned and was about to leave when she heard her husband's cry of pain. When she turned around, she saw that she had accidentally winged a cup of hot tea and spilled it right on Oliver. Covering her mouth with her hand, she squeezed her head into her shoulders and quickly left the room, calling for Ciel.
Some time passed. Oliver (already in dry clothes) alongside Cirael and Ciel, who were clearly reluctant to see Oliver go outside so oon, left the Clain mansion. They left to go to the same place where a good half of the capital's inhabitants went – to the city gates. After all, today was the day of reason why fair was even held – the return of the heroes from their triumphant campaign.
A procession of several men on horseback rode into the city to the cheers of the crowd. They were not the first world-saving heroes Oliver had seen. Apparently, threats to the entire universe appeared with enviable regularity, and they were stopped with the same enviable regularity. With pleased expressions on their faces, Clain and company looked at the most cliche-looking pair of knights imaginable and their companions. Those who had been around for centuries, like Oliver, Ciel, and Cirael, surely had thoughts along the lines of "I could be a hero, too," but did even it matter if the saviors of the world were chosen not by chance or even by some divine providence, but by the government of the kingdom? However...
–Hey, Ciri, why don't we take a trip? It's been 40 years since we've been out of capital!
Of course, Oliver, curious and barely able to sit still, suggested such a thing, again inspired by heroic deeds. But Cirael replied sharply:
–Are you crazy? Darling, you literally had a breakdown three days ago. I don't think you should go anywhere for the next week.
–I agree with Lady Cirael. But I know that won't stop you, – Ciel said and took a deep breath.
She knew better than anyone else that it was impossible to change Oliver's mind once his emotions had brought an idea to him. All Cirael could do at this point was spread her hands and realize that she had to go, too, to keep Oliver out of trouble. But Clain had an even crazier idea in mind:
–But first... and let's eavesdrop the conversation between the heroes and the Archmage!
And indeed, according to the custom, when any heroes depart and return, they go to meet the royal Archmage, who has remained unchanged for thousands of years. And who he is – no one knows, and if one knows, one does not say a word about him. Of course the sensible and cautious Cirael would be against such a...
–Ah, let's go! – Cirael said.
The angel's head lit up with curiosity and excitement. Ciel was especially excited – it had been a long time since her Lady had been in such high spirits.
A couple hours later, they gathered near a tall tower that wasn't even a meter in diameter. Oliver had tried to teleport inside before, but the Archmage's tower had always had a barrier preventing such an entrance. But today, for some reason, that barrier was missing. So Oliver took his wife and maid under by their arms, covered his eyes, and in a moment they were inside, on a huge spiral staircase. The tower was much larger inside than it was outside – at least ten meters in diameter, and the stairs went down so far that the bottom wasn't seen.
Once on the steps, Ciel, standing on her heels, lost her balance and nearly fell, but Cirael's strong hand grabbed her collar, saving the maid from a long and painful fall. Looking around, the trio realized that Oliver had teleported them to the top of the stairs, right up to the great doors to the room where the Archmage should be sitting. The only strange thing was that it was a door in the wall, and from the outside it was obvious that the tower had no outbuildings, especially this high up. Cirael pressed her eye to the crack in the door, and Oliver pressed his ear to the door. But they were in for a big surprise:
–Oh, the Clains. I've been expecting you. Come on in. And bring the maid with you.
That was the voice from behind the door. Suddenly, under the pressure of the angel's face and the Clain heir's ear, the door swung inward, as if it had lost its weight in an instant. Oliver and Cirael rose to their feet and looked around. Ciel entered humbly behind them. The three of them saw a huge, marvelous room that could not have fit in that tower.
The interior of the room might have been ordinary for us, but not for the Clains and their servant: brightly wallpapered walls, laminate floors, black leather furniture... and in the middle of it all was a dark wooden table with an empty leather chair behind it. And behind the chair was a huge panoramic window overlooking the capital city of Arai, although it was obvious from the outside that there were no windows on the tower. Especially such non-medieval ones.
The chair suddenly rotated on its axis, and when it stopped, an ordinary man, about twenty-five years old, dressed in ordinary clothes – a white shirt, a black vest, and black pants – appeared in front of the guests. The blue cloak he wore behind his back was crumpled in a very ugly manner because he was sitting, roughly speaking, on it. A sword that was broken on half of its blade, was flying near his belt.
–This isn't how I pictured the Archmage, – Oliver said, glancing at the man.
–Yeah. Where's the pointy hat, the black robe, and the waist-length beard? – Cirael said disappointedly.
–And the staff. Or the folio. – the servant added.
The stranger slapped his hand on his forehead and sighed.
–Seriously? A pointy hat? A beard? A staff? These are the most corny, boring, generic clichés ever. I believe that a man who looks like a walking collection of clichés should not live.
The Archmage's last sentence was spoken very seriously and coldly, giving the trio goosebumps. And the stranger continued:
–So Clains are going on a trip soon, I see. In that case, I'll tell you that, take your friend Sean Brown with you. Otherwise, your story will be cut short too soon. Also... we'll be seeing each other again, sooner or later.
Very suspicious advice. Whether or not Clains took that advice is a good question. Oliver then asked a different question:
–The fact that you can see the future is cool, of course, but... you criticize clichés and patterns, but you speak in the most clichéd way possible for the archetype of the "very mysterious wise character" in fairy tales. And in general, if you can see the future, maybe it would be better to answer really important questions? For example, who are Ludwig, Martha and Gerda?
The Archmage raised his right eyebrow, then laughed slightly and replied:
–Well, yes, of course you know those names, I don't know why I was surprised! Let's put it this way: they are quite... important people, even to me. Maybe you will know more about them later. But for now, I'm afraid I can't tell you more, because that would damage your mind. Well, having said this, I'm throwing you out of my tower. Bye!
When Clains were about to pepper him with questions and perhaps force the answers out of him, the mage shrugged, and the next second the three were on the ground outside the tower. Still as small as ever, 1 meter in diameter, no windows, no outbuildings.
–Damn it! He obviously knows more than he's telling! But...!
Oliver kicked the tower wall with his foot. He could already feel that the barrier had reappeared and that there was no way to get inside. Cirael sighed and said:
–It was something on the level of street fortune tellers who read the future from cards, not even knowing that the tarot has reversed meanings, and then charge an absurd amount of money.
–Exactly my thoughts... – Ciel said, rubbing her forehead.
–And if anything, I was going to invite Sean anyway, even without any advice! What a useless wizard! – Oliver shook his head and exhaled. – Okay, well, I guess we should get going since we haven't found out anything yet. Maybe we'll find out on the way.
Even though it was a silly thought – after all, if you just travel back and forth, you won't learn anything about anything in particular – Oliver started walking towards his house.