Water's Reflection or Hero's Guilt

Chapter Six

Okay, I didn't upload a chapter yesterday. My bad :(. But today, I've got a long one for you, to make it up! Hope you enjoy it!

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          “The Royal Mage is here to see you, milord,” said a guard to King William Everin.

          “Send him in.” The King motioned the doors be opened, permitting the Mage access to the throne room. The guard bowed and walked away slowly, never turning his back to his Highness, as was custom. The massive double doors were opened.

          “My King!” The Royal Mage bowed quickly to abide by the laws of the King's Court, but did not hesitate to approach him. “You summoned me?”

          As he made his way through the throne room, his gaze slid away from the King to observe the space and assess the situation. After years of service, the Mage had gotten accustomed to some things, traditions of the Everin family and other habits the King had acquired. He did not like to be alone and usually kept some company with him: lords and knights, several advisors and, of course, his wife, the Queen. That being said, the hall was currently deserted, almost completely empty, with only a few guards and servants present. It told the Mage exactly what the king had called him for; he did not want for his court to witness this conversation.

          “I did,” said King Everin when the Royal Mage had knelt down in front of him. Sitting on his throne, his birthright, he looked down on the man dressed in white and red clothes, along with his bright red cape and white gloves. He wore his usual garb, all except for the few pieces of plate mail he usually carried with it. His sword was also absent; otherwise, the guards would have never left him through.

          “Why, my lord?”

          “Word reached my ear, Royal Mage...” he said slowly. He felt somewhat bothered by the fact that he did not know the name of the man in front of him. He, the King, was unaware of the name of what ought to be his most powerful, precise tool of law and order. He repressed the feeling of hurt honor as he had done a thousand times before, and continued, “Word that you are preparing to leave the court once more.”

          The Mage nodded. “Yes, sir. My duty is not one of rest, unfortunately.”

          “It surprised me, actually,” said the King. “After all, had I not told you to clean up the mess in Oakes as quickly as possible--”

          “--I did, my King. No werewolf was left alive in Oakes!--”

          “--and then come back and wait for my orders?” the King finished angrily. “Weren't those my exact words, Royal Mage?!”

          The Mage bowed his head. “Yes, sir, but--”

          “My orders are as follows: you will not leave as you have planned, but you will prepare to accompany a regimen of soldiers to the Smaller Province. They leave in four days.”

          “Soldiers, sir?” asked the Royal Mage. Where did this regimen come from? The Mage thought nearly all men were already at the front lines. No one left here could be missed.

          “A new regimen of Gormen,” said the King simply.

          “A new one? You have never pardoned as many men as the last year, milord.”

          “That is besides the point!” he yelled, nearly jumping up from his seat. “These men will go to the war and you will be there!”