At Wyhan’s

(Decimus & Hunni)

   Decimus’s scroll flies from his fingertips and joins Hunnis, unfurled and floating before Wyhan. She reads over his, as well. She grumbles about no one wanting power and control these days and ‘goodie little two-shoes’ before steeling her features.

   Decimus gets the impression that she puts up with this as a part of increasing the overall numbers of the Mages of High Sorcery, but would probably much prefer initiating straight-up black-robes like herself and would wash her hands of white- and red-robes if she could.

   “Mistrust is a good thing, Decimus of Pouring Rain . . . though too much, misapplied, leads to lost opportunities . . . lost loves when you don’t trust in your own worthiness enough . . .” she says. “Though I have to wonder . . . how does one with such a gifted mind manage to lose a contest of riddles to a troll? Overthinking, perhaps? And my, what poetry you and the Green Shield wrought together. Perhaps you and the new Green Shield can produce even greater poetry in the future . . .”

   “And Hunni of That Place . . . formerly This Place . . . of the Clan Collic . . . And you had dealings with the Green Shield as well . . . and shall continue with the new Green Shield, I see . . .” she intoned. “So . . . Hunni of That Place, student of Wyren, vessel of Jezebel, you won’t run away from some task the Mages of High Sorcery set upon you like you ran away from your marriage, will you?”

   “Both of you, why do you think you’re worthy of using magic? Do you serve your magic, or does your magic serve you? How will you change the world with your magic? If you were to lose your magic, what would you do? Answer me these, and I the test shall be completed. Be candid, be confident, and don’t try to answer the way you think I want you to answer—I’ll know, and I’ll be disgusted. You don’t want me disgusted.”

   You catch sight of your opened scrolls. There appears to be nothing written on them . . .