Farquois escorted them to the fourth layer, and there, they split up, Oliver and Guy making their own ways home. The great sage watched their students pass through the library tower, then whispered sadly.
“…They’re both trying so hard to grow. How adorable, really.”
Then they turned, heading back the way they’d come—to the fifth layer. An area infamous for the sheer quantity of dragons, but it had one other distinctive feature. Almost nobody ever went there. A few instructors kept workshops within, although as long as one knew their general locations, it was easy enough to avoid chance encounters.
“This should do,” said Farquois. “Ready, Kunigunde?”
Farquois spoke to empty air at the bottom of a canyon. No answer met them. Yet, Farquois smiled as if one had—and they drew their athame.
“Very well. Then come on out.”
With that, they sliced open their own side. A gash so deep, their entrails spilled out on the ground before them—but these quickly swelled up, taking human form. In a matter of seconds, there knelt a woman, lightly dressed, drenched in Farquois’s blood.
“…Took you…long enough,” she managed. “I thought—you were going to make me part of you forever.”
“Perish the thought. It was necessary to get around Kimberly security, but I won’t do this twice. Turning you into a part of myself to smuggle you in? Simply ghastly.”
Farquois was calmly healing the wound shut. The woman stood up, shaking herself off and opening her eyes. They gradually came into focus.
“…At last, my eyes can see again. This means I’m free to begin?”
“Mm. I’ve learned the lay of the land from the campus through the labyrinth. You should be free to move around. But watch out for students as well as staff. The children here are well trained. Even those in lower forms are not to be trifled with, and many of the older ones are more than a match for you.”
“…Heh-heh… This hellscape’s reputation proceeds it. How terrified my father must have been, infiltrating this place on his own.”
Her voice quivered. Realizing that, she stifled it, recovering herself—and knelt before the great sage again.
“Let us work together, until our desire is met, and our god arrives.
“Rod Farquois. High Priest of the Triangle, blessed by the Sacred Light.”
A title they did not often go by—but Farquois merely smiled. The smile of a confident, merciful mage, no different from the one they showed their students.
✦ ✦ ✦
END