Sael looked at the Duke and the Headmaster as they were staring at him.

  It wasn't the polite sort of staring that came from processing unexpected information. This was the wide-eyed, frozen-in-place kind. One that made Sael wonder if he'd accidentally set something on fire behind him.

  He glanced over his shoulder. No fire.

  "Is there a problem?" Sael asked. "It was to my understanding that he did not have a master yet?"

  "Well—" The headmaster's voice cracked slightly. He cleared his throat. "No. He does not have one. That is—technically speaking, you're quite correct that he—"

  He stopped.

  Richter was still staring.

  "Forgive our reaction," Koleen managed, and then he laughed. It was a short, startled sound that seemed to surprise him as much as it did Sael. "But for Sael the Great himself to take one as a student—"

  A cluster of students passing by in the corridor went dead silent. Their heads swiveled toward the trio in perfect synchronization. Then toward Sael.

  Sael did the thing where he pressed his lips together in a firm line and gave a single decisive nod. The universal gesture for 'yes, hello, I acknowledge your existence, please continue with your day.'

  The students did not continue with their day.

  They stood there, frozen, staring.

  Koleen cleared his throat again and made a sharp gesture. "Move along. Now."

  The students scattered like startled birds. And the trio resumed walking, their footsteps echoing in the now-empty corridor.

  Behind them, distant whispers drifted back.

  "So this really is the Archmage?"

  "I thought it was just rumors—"

  "I saw him smile at us—"

  Koleen's face had gone slightly pinched. Clearly the expression of a man who was mentally calculating how quickly gossip would spread through an institution filled with young people who had nothing better to do than gossip.

  "Don't worry," Sael said.

  The headmaster glanced at him.

  "I do not mind people knowing who I am," Sael continued. "It is necessary anyway now. Let the rumors spread."

  Koleen's shoulders relaxed fractionally. "...I suppose that's true."

  They turned down another hallway. This one had tall windows on one side that overlooked the training grounds. Students were practicing combat spells below, their instructor's voice carrying faintly through the glass.

  "I had a lot of students in the past," Sael said. He wasn't sure why he was explaining this, but it felt important somehow. "So I feel I have a certain... experience in recognizing talent."

  Richter made a small sound of agreement.

  "The thing about mages," Sael continued, "is that cultivating good people who are willing to work on their magic always gives good results."

  He thought about the boy. The way Orion spoke. His apparent passion for magic...

  "Orion seemed like that," Sael said. "And I believe that given the right opportunities and tools, he would become a force for good in this world, just like I did for all my past students."

  They passed another portrait. This one showed a severe-looking woman with her arms crossed. Her painted eyes seemed to follow them.

  "The current system of the academy," Sael added, "as Bran and I had originally made it, did not account for students in the case of Orion. Before academies were even a thing, mage education was only from master to apprentice. So this would be nothing new."

  Koleen was nodding slowly. "That's... actually quite true. The academy system was designed to scale magical education and make it accessible to more people. But we did lose something in that transition. The personal attention."

  "Exactly," Sael said.

  They reached a branching corridor. Koleen led them right.

  "May I ask about Orion's family?" Sael said. "Would they agree to me taking him as my apprentice?"

  Koleen and Richter exchanged a look.

  Richter spoke first. "Orion is the castle's chief baker's nephew," he said. "His parents are dead."

  Sael felt something tighten in his chest. "What were they dead from?"

  "Adventurers," Richter said simply.

  "I see."

  In that, we have something in common, I suppose.

  Sael kept the thought to himself.

  Richter continued, his tone carrying a personal weight now. "Orion's uncle—Stan—is also my childhood friend. So I facilitated his integration into the academy. The boy showed great intellectual aptitudes from a young age. It seemed a waste not to give him the opportunity."

  I see. So this was why he wanted to become a baker when he felt the mage path was closed to him.

  "Hmm," Sael said aloud.

  "If you asked Stan for his permission," Richter added, "he would give it without a thought. He knows Orion's passion is magic. He's supported the boy's ambition a great deal."

  "I will do that, then," Sael said. "Later."

  They turned another corner, and the corridor opened into a more administrative section of the academy. The air itself felt different here. It was quieter and more formal. And there, at the end of the hall, was Aldric's office.

  The desk where his secretary sat—Ophelia, if Sael remembered correctly—was empty. The door to the office itself was closed. The whole area had an abandoned quality to it, like a room that had been deliberately avoided.

  Sael's expression must have shifted, because Richter spoke without being prompted.

  "I gave orders not to approach this place," the Duke said.

  Sael looked at him. "Thank you for that."

  He turned back to the closed door.

  "Shall we proceed, then?"

  ***

  The office was empty.

  Richter stepped through the doorway first, Koleen half a step behind, with Sael bringing up the rear.

  Bare shelves lined the walls where books should have been. The desk sat in the center of the room with nothing on it except a faint outline of dust marking where papers had rested for months. Pedestals stood like forgotten monuments, their enchanted displays gone. The crystal orb that had pulsed with soft blue light was missing. The brass instruments were gone. Even the ornate silver inkwell had vanished.

  The sword still hung on the wall. That was it. The only object that remained.

  Koleen walked to the nearest shelf and ran his fingers along the empty wood. Dust came away on his fingertips. "You... have been quite thorough, sir."

  Sael cleared his throat.

  "Yes. I checked everything for evidence of where Aldric might have gone or what he was planning. And as I said earlier, I found nothing useful." He raised his right hand. "I think it can all be returned now."

  "[Reverse Mass Retrieval]."

  The air shimmered and items began to materialize. Books drifted out of his outstretched palm and settled onto shelves with soft thuds. Papers floated through the air and arranged themselves across the desk in the positions Sael remembered he had found them, recreating even the specific pattern of organized chaos. Artifacts went back on pedestals. The crystal orb pulsed back to life. The brass instruments materialized one by one. The ornate silver inkwell went next to the purple-dyed quill.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  The process took maybe forty seconds.

  When Sael lowered his hand, the office looked lived-in again. Not quite pristine, but functional.

  Koleen picked up a book from the nearest shelf, examined it, then set it back down.

  "You verified all these items?" the headmaster said slowly.

  "Yes."

  "In the span of, what, a few hours?"

  "Less than that, actually. The verification was quick. Most of it was straightforward academic material." Sael paused. "Though I did find his journal. That took longer. Nothing Corruption related in it though."

  Richter had moved to the desk, scanning the papers scattered across its surface. "Did the journal perhaps contain something that would indicate where he went?"

  "Nothing concrete. He kept detailed notes on his academic research, correspondence with colleagues, complaints about faculty politics. But nothing about travel plans or his connection to the Corruption."

  The duke's jaw worked for a moment. Then he nodded once, sharply. "The chances of finding anything here are minimal, then."

  "Close to zero," Sael agreed.

  Silence settled over the office.

  Koleen was the one who broke it. "Then where do we search next? The man cannot simply vanish. He must be somewhere, and somewhere implies a trail, however faint."

  Sael looked at the empty doorway, then at the space where the portal had been yesterday. Where it still was, technically, just dormant and invisible.

  "Actually," he said slowly, "there might be a way."

  Both men looked at him.

  "Were either of you aware," Sael asked, "that there was a portal to Hel in this office?"

  Richter's expression went blank. "A what?"

  "Portal to Hel. Dimensional anomaly. Stable one, probably decades old." Sael gestured vaguely at the doorway. "Hidden behind detection wards. Anchored to a summoning array in the ceiling."

  Koleen's eyes snapped upward, scanning the ceiling with new intensity. After a moment, his expression shifted. "I see them now. The runes. Barely visible, but..." He looked back at Sael. "How did I not notice this before?"

  "The detection wards were layered carefully," Sael said. "You'd have to be looking for it specifically."

  Richter had moved closer to the doorway, studying it with suspicion. "And this portal led to Hel? The continent?"

  "Yes."

  "Why would Aldric maintain a portal to one of the most inhospitable places in existence?"

  "For the Cerberus," Sael said.

  Koleen frowned slightly. "Oh, his familiar dog? He kept it stored in some artifact, I believe."

  "Not stored," Sael said quietly. "Chained. In Hel."

  Both men went still.

  "What do you mean, chained?" Richter's voice was careful.

  "The portal led to a chamber on the other side. The Cerberus was bound there with enchanted chains. When the office defenses triggered, it would be summoned through to attack intruders." Sael paused. "I freed it yesterday. It went back through the portal before the aperture collapsed."

  The silence that followed was, for lack of a better word, profound.

  Richter's face had gone carefully blank. "He kept his familiar chained in Hel?"

  "Not his familar." Sael corrected, since the idea of intentionally harming one's familiar to such extent was unheard of. "But yes."

  "For how long?"

  "Years, probably. Long enough that the creature showed significant psychological damage." Sael's voice was flat. "The chains were enchanted to prevent escape. Standard binding magic, effective but cruel."

  Koleen's weathered face had darkened. "That's not... a familiar bond should never—" He stopped, jaw working. "And you freed it?"

  "I wasn't going to leave it like that." They seemed to still think it really was his familiar.

  The headmaster studied him for a long moment, then nodded slowly. "Good. That is... good." His expression remained grim. "Though it raises disturbing questions about what manner of man Aldric truly was."

  "It does," Richter agreed quietly.

  Sael looked between them. "The portal is still there. Dormant, but intact. I left the enchantments in place."

  "Why?" Richter asked.

  "Because it might be useful. If Aldric spent time in Hel—if he traveled through that portal regularly—there might be traces. Evidence of where he went, what he was doing." Sael crossed his arms. "The chances of finding anything useful here are essentially zero. But in Hel..."

  "There could be a... trail?" Koleen finished.

  "Yes."

  Richter was quiet for a moment, his eyes distant. When he spoke, his voice was measured. "The conditions in Hel render sustained presence there extraordinarily difficult for most individuals. The northern regions maintain temperatures sufficient to inflict frostbite within minutes of exposure. The southern territories feature active volcanic systems with lava flows, geysers, toxic atmospheric conditions." He paused. "And that assessment does not account for the native fauna. Creatures adapted to survive in those conditions are considerably more formidable than their counterparts elsewhere."

  He seemed to understand what Sael meant, and he did not like it.

  "If Aldric traveled to Hel with any frequency," Richter continued, "it would be most unusual. The risk-to-benefit ratio would need to justify significant expenditure of resources and personal safety. I find it difficult to believe he would undertake such journeys even at his level."

  "I agree it would be unusual," Sael said. "But I think there's a trail worth following."

  Koleen's fingers drummed against his staff. "And you believe you can survive the conditions there long enough to conduct a proper search?"

  "Yes."

  He grew up there, after all.

  "The temperature extremes alone—"

  "Won't be a problem for me."

  The headmaster studied him for a long moment. "I see. And the monsters?"

  "Also not a problem."

  Koleen's mouth twitched slightly, like he was suppressing a smile. "Of course not."

  Richter looked between them, his expression thoughtful. Then he straightened slightly. "I should accompany you."

  Sael tilted his head. "You don't need to do that."

  "I'm aware." Richter replied. "But Aldric is my cousin. This situation—his disappearance, his potential involvement with Corruption—it reflects on my family. On my House. I cannot simply delegate this matter to others and pretend it does not concern me."

  Koleen cleared his throat. "And I would be remiss in my responsibilities as headmaster if I allowed you to investigate this alone. Professor Aldric Eryndor was a faculty member at this academy. His actions, whatever they may have been, occurred under my watch." His weathered face was set in firm lines. "I should be there."

  Sael studied them both. His first instinct was to refuse. Then he considered how that would go: they would insist, he would explain the dangers, they would acknowledge the dangers and insist anyway, he would provide more detailed examples of said dangers, they would remain unmoved, and eventually someone would pull rank or appeal to honor or responsibility until one of them lost the argument. Sael recognized with the clarity of long experience that he would lose that argument. He always did.

  Better to skip directly to the part where he agreed.

  "Very well. But if you're coming with me, I need to prepare you properly."

  "Prepare us how?" Richter asked.

  "Protection spells. Environmental wards. My mother taught me a blessing; a series of enchantments that would shield you from the worst of Hel's conditions." Sael gestured toward them. "It will take a moment, but it's necessary."

  The Duke and the headmaster exchanged a glance.

  "Very well," Richter said.

  Sael stepped forward, moving first to Richter. "This might feel strange. Don't resist."

  He placed his hand on Richter's shoulder.

  The first spell came easily, flowing through his mind in the patterns his mother had taught him. "[Heat Resistance]."

  Warmth bloomed under Sael's palm, spreading outward in a wave of golden light that washed over Richter's body. The spell settled into his skin, invisible but present. A 12th Circle enchantment, far beyond what most protection magic could achieve.

  Richter's eyes widened slightly. "I can feel—"

  "Don't move," Sael said. "[Frost Resistance]."

  This one was cooler, a pale blue radiance that swept through Richter like frost. It layered over the first spell, weaving together in intricate patterns.

  Then came [Perpetual Shield].

  A barrier formed, shimmering faintly around Richter's form. It pulsed once, then settled into near-invisibility, a protective shell that would deflect physical and magical threats alike.

  Sael continued, his hand still on Richter's shoulder, casting spell after spell in rapid succession.

  [Poison Immunity]. For the toxic fumes and poisonous creatures.

  [Pressure Stabilization]. To counteract atmospheric pressure changes.

  [Sustained Vigor]. To reduce fatigue and maintain stamina in hostile conditions.

  [Continuous Regeneration]. A healing effect, subtle but constant as long as the spell would be active.

  Each spell layered over the last, building into a complex web of protections. The air around Richter shimmered with barely visible energy, and when Sael finally stepped back, the Duke was surrounded by a faint, multi-hued aura.

  Richter looked down at himself, turning his hands over slowly. The barrier was visible if you knew to look for it: a slight distortion in the air, like heat haze, but steadier. More solid.

  "This is..." He trailed off, apparently unable to find words.

  "12th Circle protections," Sael said simply. "They'll hold against anything Hel can throw at you. Temperature, toxins, physical damage, magical attacks. You'll be safe."

  Koleen was staring at Richter with wide eyes. Then he looked at Sael. "That was... how many spells?"

  "Seven," Sael said. "All layered. They'll support each other and reinforce the overall protection."

  He moved to Koleen next, placing his hand on the headmaster's shoulder.

  "Ready?"

  Koleen nodded wordlessly.

  Sael began again, the same sequence of spells flowing from him. Each enchantment settled over Koleen like a second skin, invisible but undeniably present. When Sael stepped back, both men were surrounded by the same faint, protective auras.

  Koleen lifted one hand, watching the way light bent slightly around his fingers. "I've never felt anything quite like this," he said quietly. "The stability of it. The... completeness."

  "12th Circle magic tends to be thorough," Sael said.

  Richter was still examining his own hands, flexing his fingers experimentally. "How long will these protections last?"

  "Several days, at minimum. Longer if you don't take significant damage." Sael crossed his arms. "They're designed to be resilient. My mother used similar spells when she traveled to dangerous places in Hel. They kept her alive through situations that should have killed her."

  The headmaster's expression had shifted to something thoughtful. "Your mother must have been extraordinarily skilled."

  "She was." Sael's voice was quiet. "She made sure I learned everything she could teach me. Including this."

  Richter lowered his hands, his gaze meeting Sael's. "Thank you. For this protection, and for allowing us to accompany you."

  "Don't thank me yet," Sael said. "We haven't even opened the portal."

  "Still." Richter's expression was serious. "This is more than we had any right to expect."

  Sael looked between them. Hmm. Perhaps he should just accept their thanks and move on, lest this become another prolonged exchange.

  "You're welcome," he said. "We go together."

  Richter nodded once. "When do we leave?"

  Sael glanced toward the doorway where the portal had been. He'd promised to return for those candied peanuts in about less than an hour now. But this matter with Aldric was more urgent and so, sadly, the peanuts would have to wait.

  "Now," Sael said. "We can leave now."

  Koleen straightened slightly, his hand tightening on his staff. "Alright."

  "Though I must ask," the headmaster continued, his expression shifting to something more serious, "what exactly will we be looking for?"

  "Well, for Aldric to capture such a beast," Sael said, "means he fought it. And at Level 700, a Cerberus would have defended itself fiercely. There would have been a battle."

  He looked at both of them.

  "Battles leave evidence. Blood. Hair. Skin. Something physical from the combatants. If Aldric fought the Cerberus in Hel, there might be traces of him—his blood, his hair—somewhere near where the fight occurred."

  Koleen's eyes widened slightly. "And you could track him from that."

  "Exactly." Sael nodded. "The Cerberus was chained in a specific location. I can use remnants from where it was bound to track the creature itself; that part is straightforward. Once I find it, I can ask through druidic means where the battle happened. If we're fortunate, there might even be traces of Aldric near the portal entrance. If not, the Cerberus can show us where they fought."

  Understanding settled fully on the headmaster's face. "Then we have our trail."

  "We have a starting point," Sael corrected. "The rest depends on what we find."