The weeks passed, but nothing changed. Hazelmere finished deciphering her second, third, and then fourth scroll. All of them were incredibly easy, they were no challenge at all. And, regardless of how high Hazelmere’s opinion was regarding her abilities, she was getting increasingly sure that someone went through great lengths to make those scrolls so easily decipherable.

And clearly, it wasn’t for her or her fellow mages benefit. So, she summoned the archmages once again.

“All right,” she started as soon as they’ve assembled, “this is getting ridiculous now. I don’t know about you, but I find these scrolls to be even easier to decipher now.”

“I agree,” Natle nodded her head, “there is a certain kind of pattern in these scrolls. Once you figure it out, deciphering them becomes almost as easy as reading a regular parchment. Even regular mages could decipher these!”

“It is not that easy, but I agree,” Mizette said, “there is a pattern to all the scrolls I have seen so far. What worries me the most is that it certainly took much more effort to come up with such a pattern than it took to create these scrolls in the first place.”

“And it only made their creation more complicated,” Hazelmere asserted while prodding the table with her index finger, with excessive force, “whoever made these scrolls was clearly much more concerned with making them as easy to decipher as possible than creating them in the first place. Think about it. All those scrolls are written in the same pattern! What that means …”

“We didn’t decipher half of those scrolls yet!” Cybil interrupted Hazelmere, a patronizing look on her face, “you are concluding way too soon!”

“Now is not the time, Cybil!” Mizette complained, her voice hinting at mild annoyance, “something strange is going on here, and it affects all of us! Can you please keep your rivalry with Hazelmere out of this?”

“I am just stating the obvious,” Cybil’s voice was emotionless, even though she did her best to show some attitude, “we can’t conclude that all the scrolls share the same pattern if we haven’t gone through half of them yet. That is basic math.”

“So, if you were put in Hazelmere’s place, you would have us decipher all the scrolls first and only act then … when you are absolutely sure. Yes, that is why you didn’t get the title of the royal archmage.”

“Mizette!” Natle raised her voice, “that is going too far! Yes, she is acting childish, but she isn’t offending anyone! She is just teasing Hazelmere, she isn’t trying to harm her!”

“Well, her teasing isn’t amusing to me, especially now!” Mizette responded with a raised voice of her own, “I am not here to listen to some petty squabbling! She can tease Hazelmere at her own free time, as much as she wants!”

 “Anyway!”, Hazelmere yelled over all of them, so loud a soldier poked his head through the entrance to take a look at what’s going on, “if the scrolls are written in the same pattern, and their purpose is to create a portal that leads to some alien world, do you have any idea how long it would take to make them?”

“It would take centuries at the very least!”

“No, it would take even more than that,” Natle said, “much, much more! It would take several thousand years! We can easily understand these scrolls because the pattern replaces many runes that would usually be written on the scroll. I have seen it everywhere, and I bet all of you have seen it too. A single rune on these scrolls is doing the same work as several dozen runes we usually deal with! If not for this pattern, not only would we have a much harder time understanding these scrolls, but we would need a library to store all the scrolls we would need. Whoever made these has access to magic we can only dream about.”

“Or maybe, they had,” Peratha, the red-haired mage spoke, “these scrolls may be older than the ancient Sun elves themselves! We know that knowledge is steadily declining. The ancient Sun elves had much more powerful magic than we do. Who is to say they didn’t have their own ancients?”

“That is a wild guess, but it may be true,” Natle said, “there may be even more truth in that question than we realize. Let us assume that the Sun elves did have their own ancients. What is stopping us from assuming their ancients had their own ancients too?”

“What are you getting at?” Peratha asked.

“If you go down the line of ancients, you will eventually reach the gods.”

There was silence as everyone considered such a possibility.

“Are you saying the gods made these?”

“No, I am not. I can’t know that! But I am fairly certain these scrolls didn’t come from the ancient Sun elves. Everything we know about the magic can be traced back to them. After all, we have studied their books to become mages. And yet, we have never seen anything like this! Some patterns yes, but those have always been the universal patterns that can be replicated on any other scroll. Whoever made these scrolls invested far more time and energy than the ancients were ever willing to, just to make sure someone gets to decipher them properly.”

“And casts their incantations,” Mizette finished the thought, to which Natle nodded deeply.

“Where did we get these scrolls from?”

“In the ruins, below us,” Hazelmere responded, “the ruins are below the Treadmondo itself.”

“Could we, perhaps, explore it?” Peratha asked, “maybe we can find some clues there? A few experienced adventuring parties could explore those ruins in a moon or two.”

“We can’t. The soldiers won’t let us, and I doubt we will get permission from the Emperor to do so,” Cybil responded.

“For once, I agree with Cybil,” as she said that, Hazelmere exhaled as if she was done lifting a heavy burden, “The Emperor wants us to summon the portal as soon as possible. However, I will still go to the palace and ask for permission. In light of our quick progress, maybe the Emperor will be willing to give us at least one moon to explore the ruins. I will try persuading him by saying that exploring the ruins may give us more insight into the spell.”

“So, you are going to lie to him,” surprisingly, the usual venom was missing from Cybil’s voice.

Hazelmere opened her mouth to respond but managed to stop herself. She considered her words carefully.

“Is anyone against it?” She asked.

Everyone looked at each other in silence.

“That isn’t fair!” Cybil broke it, “You are pushing your responsibilities on the rest of us!”

Mizette interfered before Hazelmere managed to respond: “It is also not fair to make her shoulder this burden alone!”

“Isn’t that what the royal archmage is for?”

“In that case, you will have no trouble naming at least one royal archmage who had to make a call this big!”

After a short standoff between them, Mizette continued.

“I think it is safe to assume that someone extremely powerful wants this portal summoned, and I doubt that whoever … or whatever has created these scrolls has our best interests at heart. It isn’t fair to force Hazelmere to shoulder this burden all alone, especially considering she got her title only recently. Actually, I see her willingness to ask for consensus as proof that she doesn’t consider herself to be above us all!”

Hazelmere stared uncertainly at Mizette for a few moments.

Until Peratha got her attention back to the topic: “So, basically, we are discussing whether we will be deceiving the Emperor or not.”

The unpleasant silence lasted for a few moments.

Then, Natle started laughing.

Peratha turned towards her, giving her the look of playful reprimand.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I just can’t,” Natle said through her laughter, waving her hand around.

Taking a look at Hazelmere, Peratha noticed the worry on her face. So, she decided to alleviate it.

“We had situations like this before. We have seen just how short-sighted the people in power can be, too many times. Cybil is especially familiar with that, considering her grand-mother was the former royal archmage. People underestimate just how dangerous the magic can be, and it is your duty as the royal archmage to make sure your ruler doesn’t do anything stupid with it.”

“Soo …” Hazelmere proceeded with the utmost caution, “are you ok with me asking his majesty for permission?”

“Yes, and feel free to lie as much as you need to. Even if he agrees with it, we probably won’t find anything, but still, we must take a look. As long as we have enough time to prepare for the exploration, and some proper escort, of course. Not these peasant soldiers we have in the camp.”

“What I am curious about the most is: who told him the scrolls lead to an abundant world?” Mizette said.

Peratha shook her index finger left to right: “You are getting close but no, that is not what should worry you the most.”

“Go on.”

“Has his majesty, or any of his subjects, asked any of you for their opinion on these scrolls? Has anyone seen them before? His majesty says he had the best mages examine them and yet, I didn’t get to see a single one.”

There was no response.

That made Peratha frown slightly: “Has anyone seen these scrolls before the senate was summoned?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“No.”

“Not me.”

“So, you are telling me his majesty didn’t ask a single archmage in his Empire about the scrolls?”

“Maybe some of us are lying and just don’t want to admit it!”

“What about your grand-mother Cybil?” Hazelmere asked, “Maybe his majesty has asked her for opinion? It would make sense to ask his former royal archmage instead of me, she is much more experienced than I am.”

“Not as far as I know.”

“Your mother perhaps?” Mizette followed.

Cybil opened her mouth, but Peratha interrupted her the moment she showed a hint of hesitation.

“Her mother isn’t a mage. She didn’t stay virgin long enough.”

“And I know you knew that!” Cybil’s didn’t sound as angry as she sounded disappointed.

But Mizette looked completely unconcerned: “I really didn’t know.”

“Anyway,” Peratha stopped their bickering before it has even started, “while you are asking the Emperor for permission to investigate those ruins, you might as well try finding out who told him where the portal leads. The more I am looking at these scrolls, the more I am convinced that is a key part of the puzzle.”

“I agree,” Mizette nodded her head.

“Ok, I will try.”

“Also, bring the knight-commander with you. He may come in … handy,” Peratha teased.

Hazelmere frowned in disgust. Her mouth opened, but no voice came out of it.

“Well, the truth is, he is responsible for your safety. We don’t want you getting hurt on the way,” Natle pointed out.

“You will have to tell us how it feels to sit right next to a peasant in a cramped chariot. I bet it is a unique experience,” Peratha continued, “considering his background, you can do whatever you want with him and, if he resists, you can threaten to accuse him of doing the same thing to you! He knows too well you would win in the court!”

“You’re all dismissed!”

“These youngsters,” Peratha shook her head in feigned disappointment, “no imagination or initiative. He would like it for sure, you know. Every peasant dreams of a pale, noble girl like you.”

“Out!”