The mage plucked the scroll out of Magnus' hand and he gave him a rather unfriendly gaze, as if he couldn't even believe that he was forced to read because of these unwelcome visitors. He unfolded it wordlessly, as his eyes slid down its contents rapidly. “Huh... The old loony still lives? Hm!” he snorted.
Magnus didn't expect such an unfriendly attitude towards Valezar in the Mages Guild. Suddenly, he wasn't sure if they were talking about the same person so he decided to add a few words to clarify. “He... he was a member of the Mages Guild,” he stuttered, but the grumpy mage didn't seem to grow any fonder of Valezar.
“Of course. He was,” said the mage peevishly and as he released one end of the parchment, it rolled back in one swish. “I am afraid I will not be able to let you in. The Guild Master is very busy at this time; and I cannot disturb him with vanities like this.” The mage punched the scroll back into Magnus' hand. “Off you go now,” he said with a malevolently victorious sneer on his face and would have already cast them out, if he didn't notice a sudden change in the children's disappointed expressions.
Magnus' eyes popped wide open, but Maren almost stopped breathing. A real mage!
“Since when are you my manager, Solas?” calmly said another man, suddenly emerging from the dark hallway. The sound of this voice made the grumpy mage jump ludicrously in shock, which made Maren and Magnus let out a small snigger. But the mage standing behind Solas had nothing of an old man's looks; he must have been the youngest member of the whole Mages Guild, there was no doubt about that. He was dressed in a heavy black robe, embroidered with silver ornamental patterns. A single glance was enough to understand that the fabric his clothes were made of was very luxurious and expensive. His long, raven black hair was reaching far beneath his shoulder blades, and his eyes, dark blue like the night sky with glittering stars, enchanted his face with a mysterious and noble look. He was holding a long mage staff overlain with Obsidian stones that was taller than himself.
“They came to see me, so I will decide if I let them in or not,” said the man in the expensive black robe and with a charming smile on his face, he looked at Maren and Magnus. “I bid you good day. I am Zimbadur Elric Ravan, the Head Master of the Ragnan Mages Guild. Please, come in,” he said in a very pleasant and kind tone, as he made a step aside, so that his little guests could enter. Zimbadur and Solas seemed as different as black and white.
When the grumpy mage Solas heard the Guild Master's decision, he was forced to step aside and let the kids in. He gave Maren and Magnus one last sour gaze, while they, surely surprised by the Guild Master's benevolence, could finally cross the doorstep of the castle. Solas didn't utter another word, but then again, there was no need to. His gaze spoke for him very clearly.
As soon as Magnus crossed the threshold of this majestic building, he sensed a wave of various strong energies. Both he and Maren felt as though they had entered a completely different world. It was a place like no other.
Their eyes, bulged with amazement, surveyed the huge entrance hall with a high ceiling that was decorated with beautiful vaults. It would be impossible to guess how it looked inside before they actually entered.
“Solas, close the front door,” said the Guild Master Zimbadur when he invited his guests to follow him, making a gentle gesture with his staff-free hand. Maren and Magnus didn't want to spend a second longer in Solas' presence, therefore they both rushed in front to follow Zimbadur on the way to the reception chamber.
Solas banged the door shut, muttering something under his nose, and for the luck of them all, nobody heard what he said. He shuffled away in a completely opposite direction, to the wide spiral stairs leading up to the library. That was probably the place where he spent most of his time. Before he vanished from their sight, Maren made a taunting grimace at him, but he couldn't see it any more.
While Zimbadur was leading his guests through the halls of the Mages Guild, Magnus got flushed by a very strange and strong sensation that something had led him to Ragna because of this very place.
*
Not only the Guild Master Zimbadur was taking his work seriously.
General Xanthar didn't blink his eyes for the whole long night. He was sitting in his armchair behind the desk, piles of books and documents towering on either side and clearly he didn't even move the curtains since yesterday, because the whole office was utterly dark. His head, full of thoughts and worries about the “scarecrow Magnus”, was resting on his left hand, while the fingertips of his right hand were impatiently tapping on the table. Obviously, he was waiting for something.
Directly before him lay his luxurious telepathic device. It seemed that somebody had just called him because he could hear a loud ringing echoing in his mind. Finally what he had been waiting for.
In one of the many aisles near the Merry Pigeon inn, Jackal was bragging to Eagle about his great discovery.
“Still, you don't know if it's really his,” Eagle said in a highly doubtful tone.
“What's wrong, Eagle? D' yeh envy that I've found what yeh with yer renowned hawk sight couldn't see?” chided Jackal at his colleague. “Just wait till I show it to the general. I'm sure he'll promote me right away,” he continued in his day-dreaming. Those were however really mere dreams, because the General Xanthar had never promoted anyone in his life. On the other hand, he was sacking people quite often.
Eagle rolled his eyes. Jackal's bragging was getting on his nerves, but he had to admit that he did envy him a little. “It's just meaningless trash that's been dumped here by someone messy. You should learn to recognise the reality from dreams, Jackal.” Eagle's face reflected unspoken anxiety that Jackal could trace Magnus and grab all rewards for the work. If there was going to be any reward, of course.
It appeared his slender colleague was already flying somewhere in the clouds, as usual. “When the general promotes meh, I'll be workin' at the police station watchin' the whole Ragna from the top of the watchtower, while yeh be boilin' and gettin' bored down at the town gate,” Jackal said dreamily while gazing lovingly at his “precious” discovery, as though it was a pile of gold. “And that's not all. Since I'll wear the police uniform, I'll be irresistible to all women in Ragna and I'll have at least ten of them on each finger,” he said brightly as he rounded on Eagle with a broad smile. When he realised who was standing in front of him, he wished he had never said any of that. He was gazing directly into the grim face of General Xanthar, who must have been listening to him for quite a while.
“Indeed,” said the general in disgust, watching Jackal's “irresistible” face.
Eagle hadn't had so much fun for a very long time. He had difficulty not to start laughing, while Jackal felt a dull purple flush creeping up his slender face.
Xanthar rolled his eyes and growled grumpily, “Get out of my way,” he said in a scornful tone and pushed Jackal aside. At this time, it was quite clear to all three of them that there would be no promoting.
Despite all the shame and sweat, Jackal didn't want to give up and he tried to shine in front of the general anyway. “Those are the papers he had in his pocket,” he said with the expression of a very experienced inspector. Well, at least he thought it looked that way.
The general stopped right before the heap of papers that lay on the pavement, getting scattered around by the gentle breeze. He reached his hand above it and closed his eyes, seemingly very focused. This was probably a way he was able to tell if these papers really belonged to Magnus. Shortly, he opened his eyes again. Now he was certain that Jackal's tracking skills didn't fail. “He can't be far. I'm going to find him, even if I have to turn every single house in Ragna upside down,” he said darkly, as his gaze darted sideways to the street on his right. Now he was even more certain about what he had said. Close to the place where he was standing, there was a line of paper scraps, leading into the first left turn.
“It seems it won't be necessary. He didn't even bother covering his tracks,” Xanthar said. If Magnus heard the general's ca
lm voice, it would have sent a shiver down his spine. Xanthar stepped forward immediately, with his elegant long coat flowing behind him. In his right hand, he was holding his precious staff which resembled a dangerous cobra overlaid with gleaming rubies. He didn't say a word to the guards, as if they weren't even there.
It appeared that Eagle and Jackal were quite used to this kind of behaviour. They didn't wait a second as they sped off to follow the general even without a command. Whatever they might have had against him, it seemed they would find Magnus shortly and that was something they would not want to miss.
The tracks led them to the Merry Pigeon inn. Xanthar didn't hesitate and smashed the door open. Each second of Magnus freely roaming Ragna was driving him insane.
The inn was completely empty except for the bald inn keeper who was cleaning up the tables and washing dishes. The front door swung open just when he was scrubbing the floor. Rays of light penetrated inside. In the first moment, Xanthar's dark figure looked as though the devil himself had emerged on the doorstep.
When the bartender realised that the general of the Magi Police himself, Xanthar Zaleon, was crossing the threshold of his tavern, he jerked under a table.
The general didn't even wait for him to get out from under it. “I am looking for a small boy, ten years old, dark hair, loose rags, big hat,” he said swiftly.
The inn keeper remained stiff like a statue. “I don't know, Sir... I haven't seen anyone like that around here...” he lied in fear that Magnus' visit could bring him trouble.
A moment of silence ensued. It seemed Xanthar was considering if that could be true, while he walked around the inn at a heavy pace, looking for some evidence that would entangle the bartender's tongue. Eagle and Jackal curiously peeked in.
“Are you sure?” said Xanthar with a sinister sneer on his face, picking up a big dusty hat from the floor with his cobra staff.
If the bartender looked horrified before, it was nothing to how he looked now. White as a chalk, he slowly stood up. He mouthed at Xanthar in order to defend himself, but he shut his mouth immediately. There was no point in saying more lies.
“I suppose I don't have to remind you that I could arrest you for hiding a refugee. So, where is he?” the general said calmly, but his dark gaze suggested he wouldn't hesitate to take the bartender away and shut the inn down if he didn't hear the truth this time.
Certainly, there was no need to remind him of that. The inn keeper didn't have the slightest intention of risking his life for the rich stranger any more and so he blabbed everything he knew. “I don't know exactly where they headed to, but when they were leaving today in the morning, I heard them talking about visiting the Guild Master of mages, Zimbadur Ravan,” he said briskly.
When Xanthar heard Zimbadur's name, his face contorted with a sour expression. “They were leaving? So our little deserter has already found a play-mate?” asked Xanthar curiously.
“To be more specific, it was a girl his age with light blond hair,” the bartender said swiftly, then paused for a while. “And she was insolent like a bed bug,” he added when he remembered how she dealt with his customers.
Eagle and Jackal exchanged surprised glances, but Xanthar's face wasn't any clearer.
“That boy had an enormous amount of money with him. And to be honest, I think he didn't even know what value it had,” proceeded the inn keeper in details, just to make the general forget about the previous lie. “A thief crawled in at night and took his backpack. The boy rushed out after him, we thought he wouldn't come back alive, but he did - with the girl. And moreover, with his backpack, too.”
This information was very interesting and shocking at the same time. Was it even possible for a small boy to survive the Ragnan night demons and on top of that, to get his rucksack back from a dangerous and strong robber? Not mentioning that he had also found a friend out there! The general's head was buzzing with a horde of thoughts, but one thing was certain – the next stop of their investigation would definitely be the Ragnan Mages Guild.
*
Zimbadur Ravan and his two little guests made their way to one of the highest floors, turning up the wide stairs ablaze with burning torches and strange glowing gems that were inlaid in the dark walls of this guild.
There were many side-doors in the halls. What stood behind them was a mystery to Maren and Magnus, but soon enough they got lucky. One of the doors was opened wide and as they walked by, they could see an old mage (of course) dressed in a blue-golden robe. Small potion bottles were hanging from his belt and his face had a short shaggy beard that was probably the shortest of all mages in the guild – except for Zimbadur, who didn't have any. He was reading from an opened book that lay on a wooden holder. Obviously, he was very interested in its contents, because he paid very little attention to the young guests. As soon as he looked up, he was back to reading instantly. His work room was full of potions, piles of old books, amulets of all kinds and other things that neither Maren nor Magnus had any clue about. The deep silence and peace that ruled in the Mages Guild was certainly supporting all mages in their studies of magick.
Zimbadur didn't let the guests peek in the room for much longer - he strode forward towards the end of the hall. Clearly, he didn't want them to waste too much time by sightseeing so he wasn't stopping anywhere.
The whole Mages Guild was built from dark stones, but walls richly embroidered with gems, gold and silver were nothing unusual here. Not in Maren's eyes though, because a silent “wow” slipped out of her mouth every now and then.
Neither did Magnus hesitate to say his thoughts out loud. “Being a mage is luxury,” he said with a shallow breath, gazing at the glittering gemstones that reflected the blazing orange light from the torches, shimmering in the dark like small stars in a night sky.
“And being a good mage is a privilege,” said Zimbadur over his shoulder, proudly raising his long obsidian staff.
“May I ask you something?” said Magnus curiously. “Why is the reception chamber so far from the entrance?”
Hearing this question, Zimbadur smiled. Apparently, it wasn't the first time someone asked him about this matter. “So that the people I deal with have to see the whole guild first and only then they can make any decisions or judgements.” That was certainly a clever and witty idea and obviously, it worked very well.
In this “different world” Magnus had completely forgotten about all his problems. Walking through the long hallway, carpeted in dark green which was decorated with golden embroidery and patterns of various mythical beings, they finally made it to the end of the corridor. It was all such splendour that Magnus and Maren could hardly remember their own names at the end of this “tour”.
Zimbadur pushed the door open as he invited the guests in with a gentle gesture of his hand.
They had never seen so many plants in an interior before! Every shelf, table, window, even the corners of the room were filled with plant pots and small trees in such a way that one could think they found themselves in a forest.
Instead of a carpet there was lovely green moss on the ground, spreading through the whole chamber in the cracks of the stone floor. All of this vegetation surely required a lot of light. The room had three huge windows with colourful window-panes which implied it was ejected from the castle like a paned balcony with a rooftop. The sun rays penetrating through the window-panes cast all shades of rainbow into the chamber. Naturally, a big fireplace wasn't missing either.
“Please, sit down,” Zimbadur bid his guests as he took a seat in his magnificent padded armchair behind a dark table desk made of massive wood.
Although Maren tried hard not to sneeze all this time, she couldn't help it any more. And what was worse, she sneezed three times in row. “Excuse me,” she said silently and with downcast eyes she slumped on one of the armchairs opposite Zimbadur.
An awkward moment of silence occurred.
“It's just cold,” Maren added, in order to start a conversation somehow. However, she tried
to avoid any eye contact with Zimbadur. What a disgrace! She meets the Guild Master of the Ragnan Mages Guild for the first time and she's got a red nose like a clown!
Magnus had already learned a few safety rules that were necessary to follow in her presence and one of them was: do not comment on anything. Therefore he decided to change the topic rapidly.
“You look like a king in that armchair,” said Magnus admiringly.
Maren felt as though Magnus had taken these words from her tongue.
Zimbadur smiled gracefully. “Thank you. But I would appreciate if you addressed me like a friend. And by the way, feel free to call me Zim.”
That was unexpected news for both Maren and Magnus. Who had ever guessed that they would be friends with Zimbadur Ravan?
Magnus wasn't sure if he was so excited about the fact that he found another friend, or that he would probably get his stay-permit quite easily. Within seconds, he reached his arm over the table. “I'm Magnus,” he said with a broad smile and shook Zimbadur's hand. “And this is Maren-”
“Acheeeew!” Maren confirmed Magnus' words with another sneeze.
“I am happy to make your acquaintance,” Zimbadur said.
Magnus was really glad that Zim, and not the grumpy old mage Solas, was the Head Master of this guild. When he thought of that, he couldn't help asking about it. “It doesn't seem that Solas likes you very much,” said Magnus carefully, hoping he wouldn't anger Zimbadur.
“He doesn't like you either,” said Zim lightly and let out a slight snigger, but then he realised it wasn't actually a joke but a frank truth. “Actually, that is a good observation.”
Drakonika (Book 1) Page 6
