Once in my room I turn my attention to the remains of the demirealm I left behind. Reaching out with my magics, I can see the landscape clearly in my mind’s eye. The demirealm is now nothing more than a vast sea with an immense crater at its center. Water is rushing to fill the void left by the landmass.

With a thought I end the demirealm. I feel a rush as its power enters into me, the magic hot and real and almost tangible in my soul. It’s a feeling I never tire of.

Just as I finish undoing the demirealm, a knock comes at my door.

“Come in,” I say, unlocking the door with a gesture.

The door swings open to reveal Captain Nelfas.

“Sorcerer,” he says to me, briskly stepping into my quarters. “The men are getting anxious.”

Something isn’t right here. One of my wards is instilling in me a deep sense of uneasiness. I’ve always found it to be far more subtle and effective than an alarm anyone can hear.

“They want to know when-”

“Captain Nelfas,” I say with a nod, cutting him off. He’s confused, and rightly so. I’ve interrupted him with what is typically a greeting.

“Sorcerer?” he says, befuddled.

“We have a guest,” I say, gesturing behind him.

Nelfas turns, confusion transitioning seamlessly into a sneer of disdain as he sees who it is.

“Gerran,” he says, not bothering to conceal the distaste in his voice.

As usual, Gerran is visibly ruffled by the omission of his title when he is addressed. I’m somewhat disappointed that our Mistress opted not to kill him after all.

“Come now, Captain Nelfas. Let’s show Overseer Gerran the respect he deserves.” Gerran brightens at my use of his title. Pathetic scum. “What can I do for you, Overseer?”

Gerran bows low to me. “Sorcerer, I came to congratulate you on your successful execution of the sequence and wish you good fortune in your errands planetside.”

“Thank you, Overseer. Now if you’ll excuse us, Captain Nelfas and I need to discuss some solutions to morale issues in the Royal Guard.”

“Of course.” Gerran bows again then scampers away down the hall.

“What did he really want?” Nelfas asks as I close the door behind him.

“Probably just trying to ingratiate himself with the Mistress’s Proxy. Worry about it later. What did you have to say to me?”

Nelfas bows his head. “Sir, the men are becoming impatient. They want action. They want revolution.”

My demeanor turns cold. “Stifle such thoughts, Nelfas. If I hear any sort of treason among the men, I’ll kill the offender myself. We cannot allow appearances to slip now.”

Nelfas is not pleased at my reaction, but he understands its wisdom. More than that, he trusts me to do right. He’ll always see me more as Commanding Officer than friend.

I continue. “While I’m gone you will be in command of the Royal Guard. Absolute discipline and continued loyalty to the Mistress must be maintained. Anything else will undo everything we’ve worked towards for six years. Can I count on you, Captain?”

“Yes, sir,” he says. “I won’t let you down.”

He turns to walk out of the room but stops just before opening the door and turns to address me.

“Give Maxwell Hell for me.”

“No one’s supposed to know about that. Who told you?”

Nelfas smiles grimly at me. “No one told me, sir. But I can only think of one reason you’d be taking the risks that come with carrying that sword.”

“Fair enough,” I allow. “But don’t spread the word.”

“Noted.” He leaves and I am alone with my thoughts for the next hour or so.