The king was a balding, spindly, man who liked to play with a pen even when there was no paper around him. Or at least that was Hadrian’s observation of the man.

“Ah, Edwin. Come in, my boy. I have a mission for you,” said the king with something that was both warmth and not in his voice. Hadrian thought that he was a little afraid of Edwin at a glance. His guards certainly stepped closer to his chair and gripped their swords as if they were reconsidering if they have asked for enough money for this job.

“Your Majesty,” said Edwin after a bow. Hadrian mirrored him, and they were soon seated in front of the king.

“And who might that be?” Asked Valyr I, king of Duria and protector of the Durian people.

“Harry, I mean, Hadrian. He is a rogue of enviable skill. I trust him,” said Edwin. Hadrian felt something like pride in his chest at the slip up. Edwin was warming up to him. If him admitting everything he had to him hadn’t assured him of that, then this did.

“Well, for this job, I don’t need a rogue. You know of the coughing sickness, of course, since you found the cure. The Surian Theocracy has developed it in their laboratories in the jungles, I am certain of it,” said the king.

“Mayor Louis Monter had a different story to tell. He said you are using the sickness to get rid of those who can’t pay their taxes,” said Edwin, voice dangerously low. The king sweated, much to Hadrian’s surprise, and his guards send him disbelieving looks.

“Louis has long wanted to be on the ruling council, but his party is doomed to remain in opposition. We have worked together in the past, my boy. I am certain you can deal with this sickness in a more…permanent matter,” said the king, his voice hitching at the last two words.

“Who do you suspect is responsible?” Asked Edwin, tone business like.

“The Hafnon family. The alchemists, have you ever heard of them?” Asked the king. When Edwin looked at him confused, Hadrian decided to shine some light on the matter.

“The Hafnons are medical prodigies. They specialize in making vaccines and then skinning countries for them. Of course, no country can make its citizens pay for a vaccine, so their business is very profitable,” said Hadrian. Edwin let out a string of curses.

“This is not a normal job. They are vital for the continued health of all the people in both continents then,” said Edwin. The king nodded, looking grave.

“Normally, I would have suggested an accident to happen to them. Something that couldn’t be traced back to you,” said the king. Hadrian looked at Edwin, who had the decency to give him a guilty look.

“But, as you said, they are vital not just for the Surian Theocracy or Duria, but the world. And so, I have arranged a trainee program in the academy for virus and vaccine specialists, but I need someone with enough experience to make the textbooks. I can’t have healers bow down to politics, not in this field. Do this, and I will make sure that the petition professor Nari has started to grant you a healer’s license gets through.”

“Professor Nari is pushing for me to get a license?” Asked Edwin, bewildered. But the professor had kicked him out of the academy. Had not wanted to, true, but had done his duty.

“They still use your notes to help the younger recruits, are you surprised? Elven dignitaries have been asking about you. And you seem to have a cozy place in Myrna’s clinic,” said the king. Hadrian clapped Edwin on the back.

“Eddy, you are a superstar! Once you get your license, people from all over are going to come to get healed by you,” said Hadrian, proud that Edwin had achieved so much.

“I…yes. I suppose,” said Edwin. He felt undeserving of such praise. His necromancy was more advanced than his healing. Did him not mince his words amounted to so much?

“Write a textbook on how to notice viruses,” said the king. “Make us independent of the Hafnons. Then the Chancellor of the Surian Theocracy can deal with the Hafnons. Root and stem, as he should deal with all money grabbers that are willing to endanger life for money,” said the king. His eyebrows were furrowed, showing what he thought of the Hafnons.

“How can we be certain that they are to blame? Do you have proof, your Majesty?” Asked Edwin. The Hafnons must have done a lot of good over the years and if Surian justice was like Durian justice, they would be dealt with quietly and no one will remember them in five, no, one, year.

“You are free to run reconnaissance. Should you find a way to clear their name and save them from death, I am sure they will repay you. But your priority is the textbook. And, if you decide to stick your nose in the Surian Theocracy, don’t get caught. As usual, my boy. That is all I had to say,” said the king, and he stood up. He extended his hand towards Edwin, and they exchanged a handshake.

“The textbook will be done by the end of the year, provided I have access to the Hafnon’s library. If they have one,” said Edwin. He was going to get to the bottom of this, one undead mice or bird at a time.

The king shook his head and chuckled.

“Always the idealist, my boy. The Torklia regiment could have done wonders with someone like you in their ranks. Remember my offer from before you joined the academy. The seat of a general is still open to you. And you…” Said the king, turning to Hadrian.

Hadrian blinked and then nodded when the king began to stare him down.

“You are a vampire; I can see it in your eyes, even though you try to hide it. Protect Edwin, from both outside and inside threats. This is an order from your king,” the king turned around and walked out, leaving Edwin, Hadrian, and the mayor in the room.

“I must say it is an honor for you to stay in my city, Boliarin,” said the mayor. Then he stared uneasy at the door.

“We would be leaving as well, but first, a question,” said Edwin as he focused on the mayor.

“And what would that be, Boliarin?” Asked the mayor, expecting to be asked to fork over money from the treasury.

“Does Myrna have a pet cemetery?” Asked Edwin, smiling brightly and managing to put the mayor at ease instantly.

“We do have one, but the families will be disgruntled and…”

“Wonderful, tell your aid to show me to it. And not a word to the families,” said Edwin, and he stood up. Hadrian followed him.

Was Edwin a Boliarin in truth, or was the mayor being polite? Hadrian knew what a Boliarin was. A necromancer in service of a monarch. High-ranking one too. They were also called Calamities. Well, it appears that it was Hadrian’s job to not allow Edwin to ever earn the second moniker.