Tyvarious’ Quest

            The two stood facing each other, looking directly into the other’s eyes as they stood nearly the exact same height, she a princess and the rightful heir to the throne and he the son as well as apprentice of her deceased father’s also deceased Court Thaumaturge, who was in fact a very powerful Magus to boot.  The two had grown up together being the same age and eventually fell in love as her mother had foretold while they were still young children... while she had still been alive.

Her light brow hair fell to the middle of her back, currently braided and tied at the end with a dark blue ribbon that matched the hue of the simple yet elegant dress she currently wore.  His coal black hair was rather close cut while his attire was rather simple in nature, a loose fitting white shirt and a pair of brown leather pants, made more for comfort than style.  Her crystal, sky blue eyes told of a great sadness and a fear she was only willing to share with him, and his almost coal black eyes showed sympathy and the vast love he felt for her.  “Tyvarious,” she said quietly as she leaned against his chamber door, which she had locked behind her.  “I really need to talk to you.  I have something I need to discuss with someone, and you’re the only person I can turn to… the only loved one left to me.”

“What is it, Love, my dear Aerian?  What’s wrong?” he asked her softly, gently.  “I’m always here for you.”

“I’ve been thinking a lot lately about everything that’s happened these past few days, and I think I’ve scared myself with my thoughts.  I’ve been thinking that it’s rather strange our fathers died the exact same night at the exact same time after having had dinner together alone to discuss affairs of this sort and that.  I’m beginning to think that maybe they didn’t die of natural causes as the Archbishop said but that they were murdered instead.”  She paused briefly to wipe a stray tear from her eye.  “And I’m afraid that whoever is behind it is going to come after me next.”  She faltered and was unable to continue as she finally broke down and began to cry, moving her gaze from his face to the floor as she lowered her head.

Tyvarious took her into his arms and rubbed her back gently as he whispered into her ear, “Don’t cry, my Love.  Please don’t cry.  You’re safe here with me.”

“But I can’t always be here with you, Tyvarious,” she told him between sobs.  “We can’t always be together because I have a kingdom to run, and you have your magic to learn.”

“My studies can wait if it’s necessary, Love.” he responded quickly.  “If you think someone is plotting to kill you, then I can postpone my studies to be by your side till you’re sure the danger is past.”

“No,” she said quietly through her tears, her voice barely audible even to him though she was speaking directly in his ear.  “You must not postpone your studies, Tyvarious.  As your father’s power was beneficial to my father’s reign, so too will yours be to mine, yours possibly more crucial.  You must continue your studies so you can aid me later should my worries be only that, worries.”

“Are you sure, Love?  I can do so.”

“I’m sure, my dear Tyvarious.”  She had finished her crying and stood silently in Tyvarious’ arms with her own arms around him and her head lying on his shoulder.  “You know, Tyvarious, that’s why I love you so much.  You’re always willing to sacrifice what’s important to you to help someone else because you’re an extremely kind hearted and giving young man.  I couldn’t have asked for more.”

“You are what’s important to me, Aerian, not my magic.  You and only you.  You’re all I have left, and I don’t want to lose you.”

“As I don’t want to lose you, Tyvarious.”  She kissed him gently on the neck.

“I have something for you then,” he said as he smiled from ear to ear, more from the kiss than what he was talking about.  He squeezed her affectionately before releasing her and walking back to his room.  She followed him in and found him riffling through a small box on top of his dresser. 

“What are you looking for, my dear Tyvarious?  You don’t have to give me anything,” she said quietly as she came up behind him and put her arms around him, kissing him gently on the neck again.

He pulled out a gold chain with an emerald charm upon it.  “Ah, here it is,” he commented more to himself than to her before he gently turned around in her arms and held the emerald dangling in front of her nose.

“It’s beautiful, Tyvarious,” she said of the emerald, which was perfectly cut, flawless in everyway.  “But it’s not necessary for you to give me anything.  Your love is enough.”

“I know, my Love, but this isn’t any ordinary emerald.  Long ago, Thaumaturges discovered that gems were sources of innate magical power that if tapped could be used for many things.  This emerald for instance grants a resistance to even the most potent of poisons.”  He closed his eyes and smiled as he said, “I know because I made it and tried it out for myself.”

“You did what?!” she gasped.  “You voluntarily took poison to make sure you had correctly performed this exercise?”
            “Yes, but don’t worry, Love.  I’m alive, aren’t I?  Besides, Father was there with me if I had screwed up.  I’d have been fine.”  He opened his eyes, smiling still.  “I knew you’d say that.  That’s why I’ve waited so long to show this to you.  I made it four years ago.  In my studies I had come to learn that it was a common thing for rulers to be poisoned as a quick and easy and seemingly clean way of assassination.  I had intended to give this to you as a gift on the day of your succession, but since you fear that someone is plotting against you and it seems that our fathers were poisoned, I thought that I might give this to you now as a precaution, incase someone tries to poison you as they apparently did our fathers.”  He undid the clasp of the necklace, and as he placed the necklace around her neck and redid the clasp, she kissed him deeply, expressing her love, devotion, and gratitude for having him.  He wrapped his arms around her and returned her kiss, also expressing his undying love for and devotion to her and his gratitude for having her.  “I love you too,” he said after they had ended the kiss.  She turned him about and playfully pushed him onto his bed, laying on it as well and resting her head upon his chest.

“But do you know just how much I truly love you, Tyvarious?”

“Yes.  You love me as I do you:  more than I can imagine.”  He smiled as he placed his right hand upon her back and began to lightly, delicately rub it.

“So you love me more than I can imagine?” she replied playfully.  “How much do you truly love me then?”

“More than anything else in this world, more than my own life.  I’d do anything for you, give my own life for yours if necessary.”

“You’d do anything for me?”  Her tone became quite serious.  “Anything?”

“All you’d have to do is ask or say it was necessary, and I’d do it for you.”

She repositioned herself so as she sat upon her knees, one on either side of his torso, supported by her arms as her face rested right above his, and the emerald charm upon her necklace dangled just above his nose.  “Then make love to me, Tyvarious.”  Her tone was as serious as it had ever sounded, and her eyes conveyed a seriousness she seldom showed the world, electing instead to be an easy going, playful, and easy to get along with person.  Tyvarious stared into her eyes, noticing the seriousness mirrored in their crystal blue depths and noticing the seriousness in her voice.  “I know we had previously agreed to wait till we were married, but…”  She trailed off suddenly, looking away from him and erecting herself to her full sitting height.

He also erected himself to his full sitting height, placing his right hand gently upon her cheek and softly moving her gaze back to his own.  He smiled warmly, conveying in that simple gesture the full extent of his love for her.  “You don’t have to explain, my Love.  I fully understand.”  He removed his hand from her cheek and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer to him as he leaned forward to kiss her.

 

            In each other’s arms, he upon his back and her upon his chest, they woke the next morning to knocking upon Tyvarious’ locked door.  “Tyvarious,” a voice called through the door.  “I’d like a word with you.”  The voice was that of the priest, the Archbishop of the castle, who had declared both their fathers’ deaths natural. 

            “Who is it, Tyvarious?” Aerian whispered to him when she heard the voice, not awake enough to recognize the voice herself.

            “The Archbishop,” he answered quickly as he crawled out of the bed and began to dress himself, and the tone in his voice sounded none to thrilled to have the Archbishop knocking at his door at all, much less so early, either.  She got out of the bed as well and began to dress also as he shouted back, “I’ll be right there, Archbishop, if you’ll just give me a moment.”  After the two were dressed and Aerian seated upon the small couch in the main room of Tyvarious’ chamber, Tyvarious unlocked the door and greeted the Archbishop with his best fake smile.

            “What took you so long?” the Archbishop asked before Tyvarious could say anything.

            “You caught me in the middle of my studies, an exercise that I had to clean up before I could allow you in,” he lied quite convincingly.

            The Archbishop looked past him and into the chamber where his eyes fell upon Aerian.  “There you are, your Highness,” he greeted congenially.  “We’ve been searching the whole of the castle for you.”

            “I’ve been here the whole morning.  You should have expected that, Archbishop,” she responded with a fake smile of her own that impressed even Tyvarious when he saw it.  “So why have you been searching for me, Archbishop?”

            “A messenger arrived this morning from your Uncle.  He has invited you to his castle to discuss matters of state between your kingdom and his.  He also sends his deepest condolences about your father’s death.”  The Archbishop lowered his head with eyes closed and began to mumble slightly.

            “When does he wish me there?” she asked, interrupting him in his evident prayer quite on purpose.

            “At your leisure was all he said, your Highness.  He said your father and he had made plans for this meeting to take place tomorrow evening, but…” he trailed off.

            My father mentioned nothing of such a meeting, Tyvarious thought, and the King told my father of all such meetings because he always accompanied him.  Then my father always told me because he always had to tell me to keep up my studies while he was away…

“Then we’ll leave as soon as I’m packed and ready, Archbishop.  I assume you’ll be accompanying me as you used to my father.”  She said it more matter of fact than as a question.

“Of course, your Highness.  It is one of my duties as Archbishop.”

“Since I am to take my father’s place as Court Thaumaturge, I’ll be accompanying as well,” Tyvarious commented quickly, his tone barely hinting at just how determined he was to protect Aerian at all costs.

“I’m sorry, Tyvarious, but one of the Magus told me that he wishes your presence tomorrow so as to find you a new master.  I’d have no problem with you going, and I’m sure her Highness wouldn’t either otherwise.”

“Which Magus was it?  I’ll have a talk with him right now and tell him that we can do that when I return.”  Tyvarious’ tone was stern and determined.

“Tyvarious,” Aerian said gently, “I’d love for you to go –I hope you know that, but if your position as a Thaumaturge is to be dealt with tomorrow, then you must stay here and attend that meeting.  I’m sure the Archbishop has already acquired guards for the journey.”  She looked directly at the Archbishop, the gentleness mirrored in them for Tyvarious masking her true feelings towards the Archbishop.

“Of course, your Highness.  I have made all our preparations already.”  He bowed shallowly, almost mocking her with it.

“I don’t care what the Archbishop has already done.”  His tone and the use of the Archbishop’s title quite plainly told of his contempt for the Archbishop.  “I’m going, and if the Magus can’t understand that, then I’ll learn what I need from my father’s journals and notes… the feelings of the council be damned!”  He was extremely determined.

Aerian stood gracefully, walking lightly to Tyvarious with a regal and commanding air about her that astonished the Archbishop and quite plainly told Tyvarious his arguments were a waste of his energy and breath.  “My dear Tyvarious, please?  I’m asking you this as your Queen and as your Love.  Stay here and attend that meeting tomorrow.  As I told you last night, your power will be beneficial to my reign as your father’s was to my father’s.  You must learn everything you can so you can help me later.”  She lightly placed her hands upon his arms.  “I’m counting on you to be my strength in the years to come.”

He lowered his head slightly, conceding his defeat, and then knelt before her.  “As you wish.”

She knelt also, putting her arms around him and her mouth next to his right ear.  “I’m doing this for your own good, my Love,” she whispered, her tone hinting at knowledge that he as of yet didn’t have.  “I love you and will always love you.  You know that, and always remember that.”  She stood again and turned to the Archbishop.  “You may go now, Archbishop.  I’ll meet you and the guards before the palace in an hour.”

“Yes, your Highness.”  He bowed mockingly again, then turned and walked out the door, closing it behind him.

Aerian put her right hand gently under Tyvarious’ chin and lifted his gaze to hers.  “I hope I haven’t hurt you, Tyvarious.”

“No, you haven’t.  I understand completely.  It’s just that I think the Archbishop had something to do with our fathers’ deaths, and I don’t want to lose you to his evil ways as I did my father.”

“I think he did too, Tyvarious, but we can’t let him know that we suspect him.  We have to make him believe we trust him if we’re to prove he is responsible.”  She smiled warmly.  “I have something I want to give you, my Love.”  She moved her hand from his chin and raised both to her neck were she undid one of the two gold chains there.  The necklace she took off was the one he had asked her about once when they were younger, a heart made of rubies and diamonds.  All she had told him then was it was a very special necklace.  “You remember when I told you that this necklace was very special, right?”

“Of course.”

“Well, I’m going to tell you why now because what makes it special is why I’m giving it to you.”  She took his right hand and placed the necklace in its palm, closing his fingers around it and squeezing his hand gently with both of hers.  “This necklace has been passed down in my family for many years.  It is first given by the owner to the person they intend to marry, and then that person is to give it to their oldest child, their heir, when he or she believes the child is of age to take care of it.  My father gave it to my mother, and my mother then gave it to me.  I’m now giving it to you because you are the person I want to marry, the person I intend to marry when fate permits.  Take it and think of me every time you see it while we’re apart.”  She leaned down and kissed him, kissed him with all her love and passion for him as though it would be the last time they would do so despite what she said.  He stood suddenly, taking her into his arms and picking her up as he did.  “Tyvarious,” she giggled.  “Put me down.  I have to get going now.”  She didn’t sound extremely sincere in her protests; it was quite plain to him that she’d rather stay there with him, but he knew as well as she that she had to go.

“Alright, Love, but you best hurry back to me.  I’ll be waiting impatiently for your return.”  He set her down lightly on her feet.

“And you best concentrate on your studies.  Remember I’m counting on you.”

He smiled.  “That reminded me a little of what father used to tell me all the time when he left on these trips.”  He wrapped his arms more tightly around her, pulling her close.  “Hurry back to me as soon as you can, okay?”
            She smiled back to him.  “I’ll try.”  She put her arms around his neck and kissed him lightly on the lips.  “I’ll try, my Love.  Being away from you will hurt, so I’ll do my best to get back to you as quick as possible.”

“As it will hurt me.”  They kissed one final time before ending their embrace and she walked out the door, smiling to him and not taking her eyes off him until she had the door closed.  He turned from the door and seated himself on the couch, sprawled out full length upon it.  Though he did not intend to, instead planning to study since he found himself with nothing better to do, he fell asleep in the position shortly afterwards.  As he slept, images of Aerian’s trip paraded through his dreams, first her talking with the Archbishop about the anticipated meeting with her Uncle and then of a sudden the carriage they were in stopped.  She got out to see what was going on and was taken by the arms by two guards as the Archbishop followed her out.  He said something to her he was unable to hear, and then he drew one of the two guards’ sword saying:

“Now your death has arrived, your Highness.”  He threw her title around acidly.  “Your death has arrived so your Uncle can rule this kingdom as he rightfully deserves.”  He raised the sword high above his head as the guards forced her to kneel before him with head lowered, and then he brought it down in a mighty overhead swing.  He saw the chain with the emerald he’d given her just the night before go flying, and then he woke up, a scream about to break from his throat.  He searched the room, and found himself ten years removed from that day and those events… ten years removed from the young Thaumaturge’s apprentice he had been… ten years removed from that young man deeply in love… ten years completely removed from the person he had been and no hope of ever returning.

“Aerian,” he breathed quietly.  “If only I had known…”  He trailed off, fighting back the urge to cry, an urge he hadn’t felt in at least eight years.  “I’ll make up for what I didn’t do then,” he breathed harshly to himself.  “You’ll pay for killing her, Archbishop.”  He sounded as though he were spitting acid as he spoke directly to the Archbishop, though he could not be heard by him.  He reached up and took hold one of the charms of the necklaces he wore around his neck; the one Aerian had given him so long ago.  “After ten years, I’ll finally avenge Aerian’s death.”  He squeezed the charm firmly but gently and then released it, getting out of the bed and dressing himself in his usual attire before grabbing his cane and walking out the door of his small chamber, one of many in the castle he called home… the castle many Vampiric as well as human Thaumaturges called home.

As he walked through the halls of the ancient castle dedicated to magic of all sorts, memories of Aerian flooded through his mind, memories he had locked away so long ago because of the pain her loss caused him.  As the memories flooded through his mind anew, the pain of her loss also washed through him anew, but though the pain sought to weaken him and destroy him, make him falter or stray in some way from the path he now trod, it only managed to galvanize his determination and rile him up all the more for the battle he had planned for the immediate future with the men who had so long ago ruined his life… had taken the life of the most innocent, caring, compassionate young lady he had ever known.  As the memories and the feelings of loss and mourning continued to wash through his mind and through him, he found himself battling to keep under control the anger and rage he had pent up inside so long ago.

He took the stairs leading up two and three at a time on his hurried way to his desired destination, cane clacking audibly against stone, as he passed many Thaumaturges bustling about on errands along the way, most human for there were not a great many Vampiric Thaumaturges present in the castle due to the overwhelming desire for seclusion among most vampires that drove any number of the more respected, predominant, and especially elder Vampiric Thaumaturges to stake out their own abodes and laboratories outside the castle.  As he came off the stairs, still at a run with his cane clacking against the stone floor at odd intervals, passing the first set of rooms on the second floor designated for adepts, he thought it finally time to move into one of these rooms, off the floor with all the apprentices and apts, as was his right and which had been his right for some time now, but he threw this thought to the back of his mind as he came into the section of the second floor designated for masters and finally to the door of the room which had been his destination all along. 

He tossed his cane up lightly, catching it agilely in the direct middle with his right hand and bringing it forward to strike the stout, ponderous wooden door soundly, the knock resounding through the quiet hall in which he stood and inspiring movement within the room almost immediately.  The cumbersome door swung open shortly, and Castor greeted him warmly, as he turned sideways and swept his arm into the room, gesturing him to enter, “Tyvarious, how are you?  Do come in, and make yourself at home.”

“Thank you, Castor,” he replied congenially, shifting his weight from his cane and strolling in with a rigid quality to his gait Castor noticed almost immediately as he closed the door behind him.

“What’s afoot, Tyvarious?  You seem rather uncharacteristically tense this morning.”  He strode over to an armchair dominating the room, furnished with plush feather pillows of a dark shade of blue, and sat down lithely so to be comfortable as they talked.  Tyvarious elected to remain on his feet, pacing back and forth along the edge of the great rug dominating the center of the room with all the furnishings upon it, his cane tapping at even intervals upon the bare stone of the floor and his unbuttoned coat flapping slightly as he moved.

“My past and my future are what’s afoot, Castor,” he replied calmly, though he felt more giddy, battle ready from all the emotions flooding through him than calm… almost volatile except for the fact he possessed a great control over his temper.  “They are both coming to a critical juncture where they’re going to clash in what I hope to be the last major battle of an all out war that’s been raging since before I became a vampire, and I would greatly appreciate your help in this battle.”  He ceased pacing to turn and face Castor, a seriousness mirrored in his eyes Castor had come to expect from the young Thaumaturge and something behind it Castor noticed but could not quite place.

“Continue, Tyvarious,” he replied, softness and compassion, empathy to his voice that had not been there some weeks ago but which he now found he could do nothing about since having met Illana.  “I will do what I can to help you, but you must tell me what’s going on if I’m to be of any use.”

Tyvarious’ eyes brightened slightly, a joy Castor was unsure of touching them for the briefest moment before they resumed their seriousness.  “Well,” he continued slowly, almost hesitantly as though he were trying to decide as he spoke how much to tell Castor of what was truly happening.  “Once, before I became a vampire, ten years now I suppose, I had been madly in love…”  He proceeded to tell the entire story to Castor, as he knew it, as it had been played out in his dreams to wake him up with a start.  “…and as I had this morning, I woke with a start after seeing my one and only true love killed in my dreams.  When I awoke that day around early evening I suppose it was, I found one of the Magus who made up the council, a good friend of my father’s whom I had affectionately called uncle in my younger days, sitting on the opposite couch watching me closely.  When we locked eyes, I saw something in them that came close to mirroring sadness, an emotion I had never seen him express or ever seen his eyes mirror, which in turn peaked my curiosity as I forced my fear down in my throat and sat up to look him directly in the face.  He frowned slightly as I sat up, which brought my fears flooding back to me anew because on top of never seeing the man express sadness I had rarely to never seen him give a facial expression that was not serious in nature as he was a serious, rigid being unlike any other I had ever met or observed.

“‘Now you know why I have come to you at this time, Tyvarious, to make you leave this place with me to further your studies in the art of Thaumaturgy.’  He still held a semblance of his frown as he spoke, trying his best to explain what he had to say without upsetting me any more than he knew I already was.  ‘That was no dream you just experienced but rather images I was given in my meditation this morning shortly after Her Highness departed this castle on her errand to see her uncle.  It was I who told the Archbishop this morning that I wished to speak with you tomorrow about you becoming my apprentice, but at the time, I had not known that what I had just said would be saving your life.  I did not know that until hours later…’

“I had finally been able to fight back my fears at this point and ask, ‘Is Aerian truly dead?  Are you sure that these images actually came to be instead of being something that could happen as all prophetic images are?’

“‘I visited that place out of body a short while ago…’ he almost choked on his reply, ‘and I’m saddened to have to say that it indeed has come to pass as my prophesy told.’ I had to fight hard not to break down and cry before him.  ‘You must leave this place with me in great haste because my prophesy has also foretold of assassins being sent to this place by the Archbishop on a mission to murder you for the Archbishop sees you as a threat to his plans.’

“I myself almost choked as I answered, ‘Take me to this place… take me to her.’

“‘There is no need for you to go there to verify my words, Tyvarious.  I would not lie to you about the women you love… I’m a serious being, not coldhearted.’

“‘I don’t care if you are telling me the truth or not.  Take me to her.’

“‘The Archbishop is long gone from there, Tyvarious… you will not be able to avenge her death now.’

“‘I don’t care about the Archbishop… take me to her.’  I was fighting so hard to keep control of my emotions running wild inside me that I was voicing my demands so hoarsely that I’m still surprised he understood my words.

“‘I will take you to that place, take you to her, only if you will agree to come with me away from this place as I’ve told you you must.’  To make this long story a little shorter for you, Castor, I agreed to his wishes, and he agreed to mine, taking me to the place my beloved was murdered.  I found when we arrived that the Archbishop had buried her, not to the standards she deserved as a princess but buried her still the same, and I knelt next to her grave to pray for her… to tell her how much I loved her… to tell her that I would never forget her… and to finally tell her that I would avenge her death if it took me all eternity.  Ironic that in uttering that oath I would eventually become a creature of eternity,” Tyvarious commented sidelong and dryly to Castor before continuing.  “After I finished my prayers and my oath, I pushed myself to my knees, still fighting against the urge to cry, and surveyed my surroundings for a few moments to gauge something.  Uncle was curious as to what I was doing, but he said nothing as I continued to calculate what I was trying to gauge.  I finally walked a short ways from where I was and knelt back down in the grass, moving my hands through it carefully before pulling from the patch of grass the emerald necklace I had given her, it now mottled with her blood and tiny portions of her essence.”  Tyvarious pulled the emerald necklace out from under his shirt, allowing it to rest upon his chest for Castor to see. “I then cupped it in my right hand, placing my left over it, and began to concentrate, trying my best to evoke the ability of a lesson my father had taught me once.  When I was through and removed my left hand, holding the necklace up with my right, Uncle saw what I had been doing.  By the light of the moon he saw that the gold chain was now mottled with red spots and streaks as though a red precious metal had been hammered into or even closer magically merged with the gold to form a necklace unlike any other ever seen.  I placed the necklace around my neck, and we left to a haven of his in a neighboring kingdom where he schooled me in Thaumaturgy for close to a year before he brought me into this world of the undead, he being a vampire which I had not known until he had brought up the idea of me becoming his son as he put it.”  He paused.  “Anyway, to get to the root of this entire story, I happened the other day to catch a glimpse of the Archbishop who murdered my beloved ten years ago and discovered that there is to be a grand celebration of some sort held at Aerian’s Uncle’s stronghold a week from now.  I wish to go there and confront the men who stole Aerian’s innocent life and destroyed my own life, but I am absolutely sure that I’ll need some help in doing so is why I’ve come to you with this.”

Castor sat in his armchair surrounded by blue pillows, hands clasped before him as he listened to Tyvarious’ tale intently, sadness panging his heart for the first time in over two hundred years.  He sat in silence for a few moments as he sought to bring his emotions back under control and Tyvarious watched him intently, waiting impatiently for his answer.   “I will aid you in your endeavor, Tyvarious, though I don’t know what kind of help you expect me to be or know exactly what you expect just the two of us to be able to accomplish.”

Tyvarious almost jumped for joy when Castor agreed to help him but kept a tight control on himself to answer, “Actually, since you know more people than I do and are able to get in touch with them quicker than I can anyone I do know, I was hoping you’d be able to acquire the aid of some of your acquaintances because I’m aware that even just two people, you being a master Thaumaturge notwithstanding, haven’t a great chance of succeeding at what I have planned.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Castor replied, “but while I’m doing that there is a particular Thaumaturge, a very powerful human Thaumaturge, a master like myself, residing in this castle I’d like you to go see.”  Castor gave Tyvarious directions to this Thaumaturge’s rooms before finishing, “Go find him and request his presence at the bottom of the stairs where I’ll meet you two shortly because I’d like to have a word with him.”

Tyvarious nodded his ascent, turning about on his heels and heading out the door while Castor turned and headed into his small bedroom where he acquired from his closet a highly polished, black oaken staff intricately carved with magical runes and symbols its entire length.  “Well, well, my old friend,” he commented to the staff, “do you agree that it’s time we test out the new power we’ve been studying?”  The power hidden within the staff began to glimmer slightly as he held it in his hands seemingly answering his question as if it had a mind and being of its own.  “I thought so, too, but first we must reach Kavin and Marauc to see if they will aid us in our endeavor to aid Tyvarious’ quest.”

He descended the stairs to the first floor a short time later, staff clacking against the stone stairs at even intervals, and as he finished descending, the Thaumaturge he had instructed Tyvarious to find turned to Tyvarious and said, “This must be something extremely important because it’s been a long time since I’ve seen Castor pull out that staff… last time I remember it used he and I were still adepts like yourself.”  He then turned to Castor, a smile on his face and brown eyes sparkling with a hidden mirth, “It’s been a long time since you’ve wanted anyone’s help with something important, Castor… was beginning to think you didn’t like me any more.”

“I do apologize, Raze, but I’ve been studying rather hard lately, working on something rather important to me.”

“Care to let us in on your studies?”

“You’ll find out soon enough I’m sure,” Castor gave the two an awry smile, moving his gaze to Tyvarious as he placed his right foot on the first floor, followed by his left, stopping directly before the two Thaumaturges.  “If the situation is as Tyvarious here describes it, I’m almost positively sure you’ll find out soon enough, when I have to evoke it.  Shall we be off?  We are to meet everyone at the little inn were we met everyone.”

Tyvarious said nothing, instead turning on his heals and starting towards the castle’s front doors, cane striking the floor rather harshly as his emotions continued to rage uncontrollably, Raze and Castor following directly behind him.