A few days later, Hazelmere returned to the palace with a sealed envelope in her bag.

“We were notified of your arrival,” the same decorated guard from before said, “please follow me, my lady. You!” he yelled at one of his guards while pointing finger towards the section of the palace, “go get the other guest!”

“Yes, sir!” The guard that was yelled at started running right away.

“Is such yelling necessary?” Hazelmere asked.

The decorated, rounded guard didn’t even look at her. He started walking instead: “That’s just how you discipline those who are lesser than you, my lady. That boy is a commoner, and it’s my job to make a proper guard out of him.”

“I thought the royal guard is filled with the elite soldiers?”

“That’s indeed the case. But we always need fresh blood. There’s a common misconception about the royal guard. People think our ranks are filled with war veterans. That would be incredibly stupid for two reasons. First of all, a guard’s job is completely different from a soldier’s. They are concerned with killing while we’re focused on protecting. And the second reason is that veteran soldiers are much more useful on the battlefield. So, the royal guards aren’t taken from other units, as many people believe. They’re trained. Being a royal guard is much more demanding than being a regular soldier, or even a knight, so we must start training them at a very young age.”

“So … even though he is a commoner, you have no issues with entrusting the Emperor’s safety to him?”

“He lacks discipline and proper training, but his fighting spirit is admirable. He has a long way to go, though.”

Looking at the veteran’s roundness, Hazelmere had to agree: “Well, that much is obvious. There is much growth ahead of him.”

The veteran noticed the jab: “I don’t want to argue with the lady, but a well-grown guard has a much higher chance of surviving a knife in the gut than a skinny one. The royal guards aren’t supposed to be running around. We’re supposed to take hits instead of his majesty … and his guests.”

“I meant no disrespect,” Hazelmere’s voice became noticeably gentler.

“I know.”

---

“Ah! Welcome, miss Hazelmere!” Rowena greeted her.

Hazelmere nodded in acknowledgment: “Ahoy, miss Rowena.”

“Please, take a seat! We’ll have another guest join us soon.”

“Can I give you the list now?”

“No.”

Hazelmere’s mood visibly darkened: “Why not?”

“Because I have no use for it! Please, take a seat!”

Hazelmere did so, looking more than annoyed.

“What is this about, Rowena? It’s as if you’re nailing me every chance you get, ever since that damn senate session!” The violent, nervous movement of her fluffy, canine tail accentuated Hazelmere’s words.

“Now, don’t be mad, our guest is very confiding. In fact, his job is to make sure you get all the mages you need. You can’t do a thing without his help.”

There was a gentle knock on the door.

“Oh, please, come in!” Rowena raised her voice.

The door opened slowly, as if whoever was on the other side had a knack for the dramatic.

An old male walked in, completely unceremoniously. He looked like a peasant elder, dressed in very simple clothing, no jewelry or decorations of any kind on him. The only unusual thing about him was that all of his clothing was completely black.

The one interesting thing Hazelmere registered when the old guy closed the door behind him was that he moved in complete silence. If she wasn’t looking at the door, she’d be completely unaware of him walking in.

“Is he from the shadow guild?” Hazelmere asked in a whisper.

“Close, but not exactly,” Rowena responded, “please, take a seat, spymaster.”

“Ahoy, ladies! Thank you, advisor. I will. These old bones aren’t what they used to be.”

Hazelmere looked sullen: “The spymaster?”

“That’s what I am.”

“I always … I thought … I heard the spymaster looks … differently.”

“You thought he’s a dashing rogue, didn’t you? A skilled, handsome duelist with a well-defined jaw and a piercing gaze. An unparalleled sweet-talker and master seducer.” spymaster said.

“Well … that’s what the stories say.”

“Then, our stories are a success! If an archmage like you believes them, that only means we did our job right!”

“Or maybe, you are just a substitute?” Hazelmere looked at Rowena uncertainly, “I mean, if the shadow guild is as elusive as the stories claim, then it would be very … unprofessional for the real spymaster to reveal himself to me. Right?”

The spymaster chuckled with amusement: “Listen, child, sometimes the tales are just that. This matter is too delicate to be entrusted with anyone else. I’m sorry if I’ve shattered all those intriguing, steamy stories about the dashing, self-serving rogue, but none of it is true. The truth is, almost all the stories you’ve heard about anything aren’t true. But that’s a different topic.”

“Indeed, miss Hazelmere came here personally to deliver the list.”

“May I know how many names are on it?” The spymaster asked.

“Forty-seven,” Hazelmere said as she took the envelope out of her bag, offering it to the elder.

“That’s too few,” the spymaster leaned over the table, taking the envelope with a shaky hand.

“There are over a hundred mages in the Empire, but very few of them are worthy of notice. Most of the mages only know how to do a single spell properly, and they live off of it until they die. Such mages have nothing to lose by being conscripted. People see each and every mage as a powerful force. They consider all of us mighty. But, just like the tales of the dashing rogue, these stories aren’t true either. Very few mages are actually competent.”

“So, the mages have secrets of their own,” the spymaster said with a sleazy smile that made Hazelmere’s skin crawl.

“As if you didn’t know that,” Hazelmere retorted.

“Darling, if I were a century or two younger, I’d find your defiance cute. But now, I only see it as a sign of immaturity.”

“But, more importantly,” Rowena interrupted them, “you wanted to convey the importance of our undertaking to miss Hazelmere. Isn’t that right, spymaster?”

“True. As I’m certain you already know, miss, your title has a lot of weight. You may not have it personally, but your station does. It comes with enormous responsibility, but it also commands a lot of respect. Therefore, as a sign of due respect, I’ll share some crucial information with you. Instead of motivating you to work hard using traditional methods, I chose to use persuasion and trust with you.”

The tone of his voice changed slightly when he realized Hazelmere was trying to suppress the smile on her face.

“You may find it laughable, but this matter is the most important undertaking in the long history of the Empire. Therefore, for you to do your best, I have no other choice but to share with you just how grave the situation is.”

“I’m listening,” Hazelmere finally succeeded in making a serious face.

“I know too well how you feel about it, how everyone feels about it. I understand your worries and your fears because I share them with you. Ever since the ancient Sun elves have summoned a portal to hell and have let the demons into our world, the very idea of summoning portals became heretical. Luckily, our Empire isn’t under the religion’s thumb … at least not fully. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t influential.”

The spymaster straightened his posture, “but I digress. Forgive me, it’s a sign of old age. The point is that I was against the idea myself. I also think that the risk is too high. Even if we forget about the hell, even if the summoning is successful, the booty may not be worth it. We’ll have to spend so many resources on the summoning, I’m wondering if we’ll be able to recuperate our losses at all.”

He hunched forward and started fiddling with his shaky fingers. He didn’t look at Hazelmere. He just stared at his hands.

“But, every time I start thinking about it, I realize we have no other options. As the spymaster, I’m privy to all kinds of sensitive information, the information my guild doesn’t let out. You see … our Empire is dying. Its power is waning. Our economy can’t support the weight of military campaigns anymore. And yet, we can’t give up on our military struggle because we know for sure that the hosagians and the high-elves are determined to crush us. Both those races see it as a matter of pride. The high elves hate the fact that we are the most influential in the world. They see themselves as superior to the other mortals. In their arrogance, they see themselves as some demigods! And let’s not forget that the Sun elves used to rule all of the Greadinall before the fall. But, when the fall had happened, someone had to pick up the shattered pieces. So, our ancestors rose to the occasion and took the leading role. The high elves think that we’ve taken their destined position in the hierarchy away from them by doing so.”

“I am aware of the history,” Hazelmere said.

“Then, I guess you also know why the hosagians want to see our demise too?” Spymaster asked, extending his palm towards her while looking her in the eyes.

“A lot of our territory used to be theirs.”

“True,” the spymaster nodded his head, “they hate us because our ancestors have not only expanded but have actually created the timkik Empire on account of hosagians. Our ancestors emerged as the only remaining power after the fall, so they took what they were owed, naturally.”

The spymaster let out a small sigh: “And that’s why those races have no intention of stopping until our Empire has been completely annihilated. They have no intention of negotiating or reaching a compromise. Nothing short of our unconditional surrender will do. That’s why we have, in our desperation, turned to such ridiculous methods like summoning a portal. Yes, we’re all aware that it’s an extremely risky move with a slim chance of success, but we have nothing to lose. Either way, our Empire is over. So, why not take the risk?”

Rowena interrupted him: “What the spymaster is trying to say, miss Hazelmere, is that, considering the grave situation our Empire is in, you’ll be given anything you ask for. Anything you need to summon the portal properly.”

“Since I haven’t seen the scrolls yet, I have no idea what I will need. Besides the time. I can say for sure that I will need a lot of it.”

“How much time, exactly?” Rowena asked.

“A few years.”

“A few … really?” Both Rowena’s and the spymaster’s eyeballs bulged at that.

“Correct me if I am wrong,” Hazelmere proceeded, “but if I have understood you correctly, there is no room for error during the summoning. Having the spell fail is simply not an option.”

“True,” the spymaster nodded.

“Therefore, to minimalize the chance of an error, I would like to take some extra time. I don’t know if you are familiar with how the spells work, so let me explain it in the most basic terms.”

Hazelmere shifted in her seat as if to prepare for a lengthy explanation.

“Some simple spells can be cast instantly. But, generally speaking, the more useful a spell is, the more complicated it is. And the more complicated a spell is, the more time is needed to cast it. Ingredients require more time to prepare, incantations are longer, a caster must place herself in a proper state of mind, all of it takes time with complicated spells.”

“But, I’ve seen some mages cast complicated spells in a few moments,” the spymaster protested.

Hazelmere pointed her index finger at him: “That’s what I’m getting at. While the more complicated spells take more time to cast, a skilled mage can speed-up the process. There are all kinds of shortcuts a mage can use but, of course, there is a catch. These shortcuts carry certain risks with them. A skilled mage can circumvent these risks but, regardless of how skilled and experienced a mage is, there is always a chance she will lose her concentration.”

“Even the best carpenter hits his finger with a hammer sometimes,” the spymaster’s ears twitched in understanding.

“Exactly! However, everything is much more serious when it comes to magic. If a mage loses her concentration while casting a spell, the spell will fail. But that is not the worst that can happen. For example, if a mage loses her concentration while casting a fireball, she can set herself, and her own allies, on fire.”

“There were such examples throughout history,” Rowena commented.

“So, what can happen if we try to summon a portal as fast as possible?” Hazelmere continued, “Imagine if we make a mistake and the spell fails. All the resources will be gone in an instant without any result. And that is a very real possibility since we will need all the mages that we have to pull off such an epic spell. The more mages participate in casting a spell, the greater the chance of its failure is. Still, we will need all of them to participate during the summoning, even the low-skilled ones. But, what if the portal spell fails catastrophically?”

“I guess no one knows what can happen?” The spymaster said.

“Is that how the portal to hell was opened?” Rowena asked.

“We can only guess. Some people think that is exactly what has happened while others think the Sun elves were just too curious for everyone’s good.”

“Those puritans are certainly insufferable,” the spymaster didn’t try to hide his dislike of the Sun elves.

“So, you want us to ensure you have several years to work on the portal?” Rowena asked.

“If you want us to have the highest chance of success possible. And, even if we do that, I still can’t guarantee the spell will work.”

“That sounds reasonable,” the spymaster nodded in agreement, looking as if he was lost in thought.

“You think it’s possible?” Rowena turned towards him.

“Yeah, I think it is. The faster we do it, the better. But we can’t just rush blindly either.”

 “We could buy some time with a new offensive. That would keep the hosagians occupied,” Rowena proposed.

“No, they’d notice the lack of mages in our armies.”

He stood up slowly, straightening his back as he did so: “But don’t worry, I’ll come up with something. Miss Hazelmere, you do what you need to do, and I’ll do my part. It will take a full moon to have a conversation with all the mages on this list, but I guarantee you won’t encounter any opposition from the other mages.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it.”

“Especially from the Zegrath house.”

Hazelmere lowered her gaze, looking uncertain about something.

“I understand the rivalry is strong between your houses, and I’ll make sure that doesn’t affect anyone’s performance.”

This time, there was no thank you from Hazelmere.

“Well, I’m a busy, old guy, so I’ll leave you lovely ladies to your own devices.”

“Looking forward to seeing you again, spymaster,” Rowena responded with a giggle.

He left the room the same way he got in, without making a sound.