There was no natural light at all. Torches illuminated dungeon walls, but were placed too far away from each other. The darkness between them left no other choice for those who traversed those halls but to carry an additional torch with them. The spymaster was ahead of the group, leading them towards a specific cell.

Hazelmere followed a few steps behind him. She was cuffed and gagged this time. Four of spymaster’s agents, dressed in black cloaks, surrounded her. They didn’t carry her or push her forward, they just followed the spymaster along with her.

The spymaster pushed a big key into a small door with his shaky hands, opening it.

The cell was small, with only a simple, wooden table and two chairs in it. It was better illuminated than the halls though, there was a single torch in each corner. There was some parchment, a bottle of ink, and two quills on the table.

“Uncuff her,” the spymaster’s words sounded more like a statement than an order.

One cloaked figure took the cuffs off of Hazelmere’s hands while the other removed the gag.

“You’re free to go,” the spymaster said as he was slowly sitting on one of the chairs, holding the table for support.

“Are you sure, master? She’s an archmage.”

“It takes time for the magic to work.”

After a few moments, his agents nodded, leaving the room.

Hazelmere heard the clack of the doors being locked.

“Please, take a seat,” the spymaster said in an almost friendly manner.

As she obliged him, Hazelmere noticed some dry bloodstains on the table.

“Unfortunately, we can’t keep this place spotlessly clean.”

Since Hazelmere said nothing, he continued. His voice was still friendly and understanding.

“Are you feeling cold? You’re shaking.”

“It is a bit chilly in here.”

“I apologize for that, but we are in a dungeon. The dungeons and caves are cold by their very nature. That does provide us with a few benefits though. I also apologize for the treatment, we couldn’t take any risks. Mages are well known for being sneaky.”

A few moments of awkward silence passed. Hazelmere avoided any eye contact.

“Anyway, let’s get straight to the business. We’re here to see what the punishment for your failure will be.”

As soon as the spymaster said that, a loud, male scream was heard on the other side of the stone wall, startling Hazelmere.

“I apologize for that too. We have one of the adventurers who got us the scrolls in the next cell. We’re quite full at the moment. There’s a lot of work to do and too little time. So please, forgive me if I rush something.”

Hazelmere was still quiet.

“Anyway, you claim the mages did their job well?”

“Yes! I am confident we didn’t make a single mistake!”

“How confident are you?”

Hazelmere hesitated for a few moments: “Quite a lot.”

“You were casting new, unfamiliar spells, which weren’t cast in several millennia. Making a mistake on such a demanding task is only natural.”

“Had we made a mistake, the portal would have failed.”

Hazelmere jerked as the loud screaming interrupted the conversation again.

“I apologize. Please, try not to be fazed by it. Anyway, back to the topic. While some people agree with you on that matter, others tend to differ. Some people think it’s possible to unintentionally, or even intentionally, modify the portal’s destination.”

“Are those people skilled in magic?”

“Yes, they are.”

Hazelmere lowered her gaze, keeping quiet.

“I told you, back in the palace, I’m not a mage, but I do know something about the magic and how it works. For example, I know that tinkering with a spell’s logic can produce vastly different results.”

“We couldn’t tinker with these spells, they were too complicated! Tinkering with their logic would most certainly cause them to fail! It was unlike anything we have ever seen! All the archmages agree that the scrolls were most likely created by the immortals!”

“That’s a very bold claim.”

The screaming in the nearby cell interrupted them once again.

For the first time, Hazelmere saw the annoyed look on the spymaster’s face. He got up slowly.

“If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to take care of something.”

---

After some much more intense, but shorter, screaming in the next room, the spymaster returned to Hazelmere’s cell.

“That should take care of it. He won’t interrupt us anymore. People have a much harder time screaming when their throat is burned,” the spymaster said as he was slowly sitting back on the chair.

Once he has finally sat on it, he let out a sigh.

“The only issue is that they can’t talk anymore either. But, as long as they have their hands and know how to write, it’s not a problem.”

The way he looked at Hazelmere’s hands after saying that made her hide them below the table. That drew a small smirk on his face, which quickly disappeared.

“But I digress. Where were we … ah, yes! You made a bold claim, saying there’s a good chance the immortals wrote the scrolls.”

Hazelmere nodded, looking like a problematic student that was being questioned by a stern teacher.

“What makes you say that?”

“The scrolls were too complicated, but not because those who have written them didn’t have the skill to write them the right way. Usually, complicated scrolls are a clear sign of an unskilled mage. But, in this case, the scrolls were deliberately made more complicated than they were supposed to be just so the casters would have an easier time casting the spell.”

“You mean, the extra effort was made to ensure the spell is successful?”

“Yes! And that is something the mages would never consider doing! All the mages will do the bare effort needed to make the scroll work! This is the first time we saw a scroll-maker go through the extra effort to help the caster out!”

“Why wouldn’t the mages do that? It sounds like a reasonable thing to do.”

“In most cases, the mages write the scrolls for others, so they don’t really care. Not even when they are working for someone very important. Important people have skilled mages working for them, so casting the spells from the scroll is never an issue, no matter how complicated it may be. And the scrolls usually contain just a single or a few spells in them, so the chance of failure is minuscule. But this thing … it was something we have never imagined before! There were hundreds of spells in it, each with a different purpose! There was no way to modify any part of it without ruining the whole thing, it was just too complicated! A single modification would cause the summoning to fail!”

“Why didn’t you raise any concerns?”

“I did! Several times! But every time, I was denied the audience with the Emperor! I wanted to let him know what we are messing with, but the royal advisor sent me back to Treadmondo each and every time!”

“The royal advisor sent you back?”

“Yes! Rowena!”

“And what if her story is different? Do you have any witnesses to back up your claim?”

“All the archmages know! They will confirm we tried to contact the Emperor!”

“Given the situation we’re in, I don’t consider the archmages to be a reliable source of information. Everyone is trying to cover up their failures at the moment, so of course, the archmages will be on your side. Besides, even if they have agreed with you to seek an audience with the Emperor, it’s possible you left the camp but didn’t go to see the Emperor at all. Do you have anyone else?”

Hazelmere thought hard.

“The transcendent priest! We told him we couldn’t reach his majesty, so we wanted to consult his astrologists about a few odd things we found in the scrolls!”

The spymaster shook his head in disappointment, making Hazelmere remember what got her in trouble in the first place.

“The church, and everyone involved with it, is definitely not a good source of information. Especially the transcendent priest. He’s been trying very hard to strip the Emperor of his powers. There’s a good chance he’s colluding with our enemies. After all, the high elves have a monopoly on religion. Do you have anyone else?”

The frightened look on Hazelmere’s face got stronger with each passing moment.

The spymaster didn’t interrupt her. He just stared at her, trying to decipher her mannerisms.

“The royal guards!” Hazelmere almost gasped as she said it, fixing her eyes on the spymaster in an instant, “the royal guards were there! Every time I was denied an audience with the Emperor, they were there! Once, Rowena even called them to kick me out because I was stubborn about it! The guards-commander who led me to his majesty’s tent was the one who saw me visit the palace! He’ll testify I demanded to see his majesty several times!”

The spymaster nodded, finally looking satisfied.

“The royal guards are a good bunch. They aren’t the best fighters, but they’re the most honorable and loyal people out there. The moment they start telling lies is the moment the Empire stops being worth saving.”

He wrote something on the parchment in front of him.

“Well … miss Hazelmere … I don’t have any proof that you’re guilty, and I also don’t have any proof which says you’re not. And you’re too valuable to be processed the proper way.”

Then, after making a dramatic pause, he leaned in.

“Well … actually … I can’t help but wonder … if that’s the case?”

Hazelmere’s ears rose in surprise.

“I mean … how useful are you, considering your incompetence may be the cause of all of this? I’m not directly accusing you of anything, not until my investigation is complete, but I’m also not dismissing the possibility that you had your hand in it, willingly or not. How will you prove to me, and everyone else, that you’re worth keeping?”

“I … I … I’ll do everything to keep the portal under control! I’ll … I’ll stay near the portal and fight anything that comes out of it!”

“Even if the demons come pouring out of it?”

“Even if it’s the frozen hell we’re facing!”

“What about the void? Would you stand against the void itself?”

Hazelmere looked surprised to hear that.

“I know much more than you think, miss Hazelmere. I know that there’s no energy on the other side. There’s nothing but emptiness out there.”

“I’ll fight the void itself if needed be! I’ll give my soul if that’s what it takes to stop it!”

The spymaster nodded once again.

“Good … good … so, you’re ready to set out and close the portal?”

Hazelmere became disheartened in an instant: “That’s … impossible. We can’t close it.”

“And why is that?”

“We can’t drain the energy out of it. We will have to wait for it to deplete itself.”

“Why not?”

“The mana, the energy, has changed its form. It is like asking a carpenter to turn the table back into the tree.”

“How long will it take?”

Hazelmere shrugged: “Honestly, I don’t know. I can only guess.”

“Then, guess.”

“Perhaps, a few decades? Centuries maybe?”

The spymaster sunk into the chair, throwing his head over it: “Oh, nail me now.”

He quickly got back to his original position though.

“Are you telling me we’ll have to defend the portal for several decades?”

“I am afraid that is the only option.”

“What about casting a barrier over it?”

Hazelmere shook her head: “It won’t work. We can’t approach the portal. It drains the life force of everyone who dares to approach it. We would have to cast a barrier from far away, which means the barrier would be huge. That would take way too much energy to pull off. And then, we would have to feed it with more mana constantly.”

“But the portal is self-sufficient. Can’t you do something similar with the barrier?”

“It is a different kind of magic. And the portal-summoning spells were designed by someone whose understanding of magic is infinitely better than ours.”

The spymaster got lost in thought for quite some time. Hazelmere didn’t dare interrupt him.

“Ok, miss Hazelmere, this is what’s going to happen. I’m letting you go, but I’ll always have my eyes on you. I’m letting you go because we need every resource we can get and because, if you have any shred of honor, you’d want to redeem yourself for your role in this.”

“I had no idea what the destination of the portal was, but I am more than willing to fix this!”

“Good. But there’s one more reason, one much more important reason why I’m letting you go.”

He made a short pause.

“There’s a good chance you’ve been set up.”

Hazelmere’s facial expression didn’t change. She just blinked a few times.

“I can’t help but wonder, how did someone like you become the royal archmage? Please, don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying you’re a bad archmage. However, I have no choice but to realize that miss Cybil is far more fitting for that role. She was a safe bet.”

“Nobody asked me if I wanted to be the royal archmage! That was decided without my consent!”

“It’s the council of the archmages that decides it, right. Along with the trusted members of the court.”

“Yes!”

“And, being an archmage yourself, you’re in the council too, right?”

“Yes …” Hazelmere said, with a hint of uncertainty in her voice.

“So, you were there when the decision was made. And you didn’t complain.”

“… being the royal archmage is a very prestigious role. It is a recognition of one’s skill.”

“That’s understandable. I bet every other mage would accept it. But it may be that those who have decided to put you in a position of such enormous responsibility were fully aware of what’s about to happen. And I bet they were certain my verdict would be different.”

The spymaster gave her some time so that would sink in.

“Go, and trust no one, miss Hazelmere. Those who have made you the royal archmage didn’t do so for your benefit. Go, and show them that putting you in such an influential position was their greatest mistake.”

“I will!”