A lean man of above-average height wearing gray robes opened the door and walked inside. He was bald, though with sharp handsome features that seemed to have an indelible grin. This was not, despite appearances, Magister Hegazar. Instead, Argrave spotted a dim gray silhouette just behind. That would be the man himself.

“Hello, Magister Hegazar,” Argrave greeted, his legs crossed as he waited casually atop a couch. One of his arms rested across the back of the couch just behind Anneliese. Galamon stood behind, arms crossed before him as the ever-diligent guard.

Magister Hegazar was an S-rank mage whose A-rank ascension was closely linked with illusion magic. He was one of few Magisters in the Order to specialize in that branch of magic. The human figure Argrave saw—the bald, handsome man—was a constantly projected illusion. The silhouette was where Hegazar’s body truly was. Argrave suspected the only reason he able to glimpse even a hint of Hegazar’s true form was because of Garm’s eyes.

“Well… if it isn’t our Order’s resident Kinslaying Serpent, Argrave,” Hegazar greeted, his voice husky and deep. It had a certain intonation that dripped with amusement and cynicism. “My, I feel half a child again confronted by so many giants. My neck may hurt by the end of the conversation, craning it to look up at you.”

“Well, you are the true senior here, head and shoulder above us all,” Argrave answered at once, almost excessively flatteringly. Hegazar had an ego rivalling any A-list actor—Argrave’s strategy was to act as though he was ceding control to him while still controlling the flow of the conversation.

“I’m very glad we could meet today,” Argrave continued, rising to his feet. “Please, have a seat.”

The door shut behind him, and the lock clicked a second later. “Mmm…” Hegazar’s illusory body gave a nod. “Took you a while to reach out. I was beginning to think you were stringing me along like an ugly, kindhearted girl you didn’t have the heart to say ‘no’ to.”

Hegazar stepped into the room, and though his illusory body took a seat in the couch opposite Argrave, his true body roamed about the room, examining things. He didn’t ask about Anneliese or Galamon—he didn’t seem to care.

“But I suspect you were rather busy trimming your nails, cutting your hair, getting yourself presentable for the big crowd forming outside this tower,” Hegazar continued, voice projecting from his illusory body flawlessly. “Your pa must have a soft spot for you—he’s gathered so many people that are screaming your name, waiting for the very moment you step out onto the stage.”

Argrave laughed politely and sat back down, doing his best to keep his eyes away from the silhouette that wandered the room. “Fortunately for them, I’m not one to disappoint the people. I’d like to step onto the stage soon enough. But… stagecraft, any sort of art… it can be an expensive thing. Sometimes you need a patron. A sponsor.”

“Ahhh,” Hegazar’s false body leaned forth very naturally, placing both elbows on its knees. As it did so, Hegazar’s true form finally decided it had seen enough, and went to sit down where the illusory body already sat, lounging while the illusory form remained animate. “I see where I come in, I think. You’ve got production issues. Bit off more than you can chew, hmm?”

“Sometimes an opportunity’s too good to pass up, even if you have to overextend a bit to seize it,” Argrave said, putting his arm back behind Anneliese.

Argrave knew Anneliese well enough to tell immediately she was ill at ease when faced with Hegazar. It seemed that, despite his illusion, she could tell that the form sitting before them was not real flesh and blood.

“Mmhmm,” Hegazar leaned back, silhouette and illusion overlapping for but half a second. “Not to condescend, but these patrons, these sponsors—as much as you might be fooled into believing they throw money at half-baked ideas for the sake of throwing money, that’s not the case. These fools with gold in their soles—they’ve got an agenda. Either they like the art, or they see a golden, glimmering treasure mound at the end of the tunnel.”

shrug. “Your pockets look a bit light to me. I certainly don’t see any pile of riches in sight. All you’ve got, as I see

kept a poker face, but he could not deny he disliked being called Kinslayer. The man had a magnetic way of speaking, and he felt very much swept along by

“Back when the Order of the Rose fell, Vasquer issued

poor start to

that time,” Argrave continued undaunted, “Many of the valuable books degraded, rotted, got washed away, or were otherwise destroyed. And many of the locations, well… my dear old dad hoards those jealously, if he’s even got them. But the ban on exploration is up, and yours truly has the location of a cache of preserved books that’ll be

head and clicked his tongue. “If I wanted sweet promises, I could pay some troubadour to sing me songs about all my virtues, or some fortune teller to tell me

He

the A-rank matrix took shape. “The A-rank spell [Full Bloodmoon]. It’s the last of a series of spells I’ve already studied, somewhat. A devastating A-rank spell of blood magic. After

become A-rank was to assimilate deeper with magic, make it part of one’s body. Rather than matrixes… these spells took root in the body, too. Rather than conjuring a matrix, the body itself served as a sort of conduit to mold the magic. What appeared from the book was so complex Argrave couldn’t even begin

appeared to entice Hegazar, though. His illusory body remained lounging in the chair, but the silhouette that betrayed his true body got off the

silhouette reached out towards the book briefly, but the sound of a lock clicking echoed in the silent room. Hegazar’s true body came to attention at once, prepared to

with orange, predatory

she crossed her arms. Wrath set in when she saw Hegazar, and she began, “You. I

then, she laid eyes upon Argrave, and upon the wide-open A-rank spellbook. It was confusion at first, then ponderance, and

might this be?” Vera stepped deeper into the room, eyes fixed on the

Vera and shut the door behind her. She followed his

Some ploy by this old witch?” Hegazar asked,

Durran, what the hell? This wasn’t..!” Argrave acted indignant,

collapsed onto the couch just beside Argrave.

Argrave whispered in show,

blazes with that. You don’t pay me

show of theirs. Argrave couldn’t tell if they were convinced, but Vera was too focused on the

Vera leaned over. “This is Order of the Rose work. And this book…” she reached down. “Not Owl

the silhouette by the door. Eventually… the door’s

looking between Argrave and Hegazar. “You two seemed to

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