errenis | for blumenthal

He watches quietly as Caleb weathers a surge of emotion. He has followed the news from the Empire and the Academy, he knows the crimes of Trent Ikithon and others. Caleb has been through so much at the hands of those who should have protected him and nurtured him. That he has survived and that he has not been utterly twisted or irreparably broken by their machinations is nothing short of remarkable. For now, Yussa keeps that to himself. If he keeps going, Caleb might be too overcome to teach.

Golden eyes meet blue as Caleb meets his gaze again, and the raw vulnerability there is recognizable. Yussa moves closer and rests one hand on Caleb's crossed arms while the other lifts to cradle his face.

"It is a good thing you have such a keen memory," he says, the barest hint of teasing in his voice. "Because I do not repeat myself."

His thumb sweeps gently across Caleb's cheek and Yussa leans up on his toes to press a chaste kiss there. Then he steps back to give Caleb space.

"Shall I wait in the corridor?"

Caleb slowly releases a shaky breath as Yussa lays a hand over his arms and the other against his cheek. His face tilts into that touch, and he doesn't break eye contact until Yussa pushes up onto his toes to press a sweet kiss to his cheek.

Though Yussa withdraws, Caleb shakes his head immediately when he offers to wait outside. He reaches for him, catching one hand between both of his.

"No. Stay, please." Tugging gently, he draws the elf back toward him until he's close enough to raise his hand to his lips and kiss his knuckles. "I am very happy to see you." It really is a pleasant surprise, even if he feels unprepared.

"What would you like to do tonight?" he asks, fishing for a change of subject and also attempting to make some sort of plan. "Do you want to spend a little time out and about in the city? Or would you rather head straight to my home?"

Yussa allows a smile as Caleb draws him back in to kiss his hand. His fingers curl loosely against the human wizard's more calloused ones. He also graciously accepts the change of subject.

"I am at your disposal," he answers. "But... perhaps an evening in your home tonight."

He is a natural recluse and while Rexxentrum has its charms - the way that any city does - Yussa would like to ease into being squired around. He has been at the Academy since arriving, and he suspects that after sitting through Caleb's next class (or however many he has left), he will be quite ready to be away from people for a little while.

This way Caleb also has time to decide where he might want to take Yussa tomorrow.

"I hoped you would say that," Caleb admits. His smile reaches his eyes, and as Yussa's fingers curl with his he rubs his thumb across the back of his hand, relishing how soft his skin feels. "In general, I tend to prefer quiet nights in over going out." The occasional outing with members of the Nein is about his limit these days. He's also having a little difficulty imagining dragging Yussa out to a beer hall.

Of course, now he must imagine Yussa in his home, which also proves slightly difficult. Here is a man who owns a third of Nicodranas, who makes his home in a magical tower so opulent and intricate that Caleb hasn't yet viewed the extent of it, even after many visits. His tiny cottage in the Tangles is hardly destination material.

"There are one or two things I will need to pick up on the way home," he says apologetically. Food for a nicer dinner than he was planning, namely. He would also have preferred the chance to organize a little before having Yussa as a guest, but it could be worse. Yasha had come by last week to help him with a little pre-winter cleaning, and things still look mostly in order. "Otherwise we can spend our evening uninterrupted."

"I am not opposed to running errands," he says with warm amusement. "I even do my own now and then."

Rarely, but never mind that. He is not in Nicodranas now, and he meant it when he said he's at Caleb's disposal. Yussa has no agenda here, nothing he intends to do in any official capacity.

"And I look forward to an uninterrupted evening." He squeezes Caleb's hand before he lets go. "Now then, do not let me distract you from whatever preparations you have need of before your next class. During it, I will make my presence as subtle or obvious as you like."

If Caleb wishes to introduce him to put some awe into his students, Yussa can certainly play the part.

Somehow, Caleb suspects Wensforth might have something to add to that. But for his part, he knows when to keep his mouth shut. He releases Yussa's hand nods, slowly pushing to his feet and walking around to the other side of his desk. From the top lefthand drawer he pulls a stack of graded papers to be returned, and cracks open his planner to review his notes.

"This is a more advanced class than the one you dropped into earlier," he explains. "We are continuing our exploration into a Transmutation staple that happens to be a particular favorite of mine." He smiles as he glances up at Yussa again, eyes bright. It's Polymorph, of course.

Naturally, he isn't teaching the full spell--he's not about to have a classroom full of teenagers turning themselves into giant apes or eagles, and none of them have the experience or knowledge to wield power of that level just yet. But the core concepts of that spell demonstrate transmutive magic with both a clarity and complexity that is well worth teaching purely for the theory behind it.

"I planned to save the practical demonstration for a day one of my colleagues could be on hand as a spotter. But if you are willing and have Dispel Magic prepared, I could do it today." Not only is he going to introduce Yussa, but he is also determined to see him participate. How could he pass up such a fine opportunity to both amaze and amuse his students? He still hears them reference the day he brought Beauregard and Yasha in to demonstrate the effects of Haste.

Yussa lifts a brow at the idea of being recruited as a spotter, even in an upper level class. He shakes his head, but in a way that suggests acceptance rather than refusal.

"I have it prepared," he says mildly. "Should there be need of it during the course of the lecture and demonstration."

He admits he is curious as to how this will go, and he supposes it's a wise precaution to have another experienced arcanist or cleric in the room should things get a little out of hand for some reason or another.

Though Yussa's response would seem indifferent to anyone less familiar with him, Caleb grins. "Thank you, schatz. I do not anticipate any issues, but it is always best to be safe." When students are involved, at least. As someone who has explored and studied with Caleb extensively, Yussa has had ample opportunity to observe just how willing he is to take risks with his personal safety for the sake of knowledge.

"I think you find this as amusing as they will," he adds, and begins collecting his things.

He does introduce Yussa at the start of class as my good friend, Archmage Yussa Errenis. Though one might expect a group of students from the Empire to have little knowledge of a reclusive wizard from as far away as the Menagerie Coast, it is clear that many of them recognizes his name--Caleb's doing, from mentions of their work together. And for those that don't, the title of Archmage alone is impressive enough.

Caleb sits Yussa on the rightmost end of the hall's front row so he has plenty of space to himself (and is near the door should he decide to step out), but well within range of Dispel Magic. He spends the first part of class discussing with the students what observations the technical assignment he'd given them--the papers he passes back--helped them make, which segues well into his lecture. They've spent several lessons now dissecting this spell and how it relates to Transmutation as a whole, and still he is impressed by how broad their understanding has grown.

The demonstration he saves for last, mostly because he knows they won't be able to concentrate on anything else after. Most of them have never seen Polymorph first-hand, and it will do a lot for their enthusiasm on the subject to actually watch the transformation take place and understand that the concepts they have been discussing do not live only in their notes, or even on the pages of a spellbook. They are very real.

He demonstrates on himself first, of course. With a twist of the cocoon between his fingers, he becomes a long-furred ginger tomcat with blue eyes, certainly not for the first time, and far from the last. The exclamations of excitement and amazement throughout the room become laughter and amusement when he jumps up onto Yussa's desk and stretches to headbutt his chin, purring loudly. He'd have been perfectly content to jump up onto his shoulders and curl up there for a while if he didn't have the awareness in the back of his mind that he isn't done yet. He does a little more feline galivanting around the room for his students' benefit, making sure they're well and truly surprised when he returns to the front of the room and drops the spell, only to almost immediately turn into a giant red ape instead.

Once the shock wears off, this becomes fun too; Capeleb writes on the chalkboard, lifts a desk over his head to pretend to look under it, and delicately shakes hands with several students--all with Yussa sitting on one shoulder.

After he carefully sets his friend down again, he drops the spell a second time, and remains the human Caleb Widogast. When he asks for a volunteer who would like to try being Polymorphed themselves, nearly the entire class clamors to be picked. Caleb looks to Yussa with a curl of his lips and a flash of blue eyes over the rim of his glasses.

"Perhaps Master Errenis should choose," he suggests, "just so it is fair."

Yussa bows politely to the students when he is introduced, and he's amused by the attention as he goes to the seat Caleb has chosen for him. He watches the lecture, impassive and utterly inscrutable as the other man explains theory and engages with his students. Caleb is good at this: he has a way of explaining and breaking things down that allow students to grasp component parts of the whole, seeing how they work together within the spell.

Even when Caleb turns into a cat and jumps onto his desk to offer affection, Yussa hides his amusement, though he does offer the cat a lazy stroke down the back with the sort of familiarity that comes with handling such an animal, but there has never been any evidence of a cat in his tower on any of Caleb's visits.

And then, after some feline gallivanting, Yussa finds himself faced with a rather large ape. He is content to be observed from where he is, but apparently Capeleb has other ideas of where he should be. Yussa makes a point to roll his eyes before he allows the ape to place him on his shoulder: he is rather small anyway, and he is made even more petite on the shoulder of a giant ape. Despite the moving around, Yussa remains poised on top of Caleb's shoulder, legs crossed at the ankle and hands folded in his lap with no obvious adjusting for balance, though Caleb might feel the shift and tensing of muscles as Yussa does just that.

When that display is over, Yussa is quite happy to be on his feet again. Though there is no obvious expression of pleasure on his face, his golden eyes are bright with amusement when a human Caleb meets his gaze. He returns to his seat as Caleb tantalizes his students with the possibility of being chosen by their guest. Yussa turns his attention to the students, considering the eager and hopeful faces. He notices one who has been rapt this entire time, rapidly taking notes and from where he is, Yussa can see quick sketches of the two animals Caleb turned into in his demonstration. This student is not clamoring for his attention, but the light in their eyes is unmistakable.

"You," he says, gaze intent and steady on the student he's chosen. Other students look around, trying to see who he's chosen. Even though he does not point, gesture, or otherwise describe the student in question, they tentatively stand beneath the intensity of his attention. Yussa's gaze softens. "Yes, you."

He gestures to where Caleb waits at the front of the room.

When Caleb follows the line of Yussa's gaze, his smile warms and he gives a slight nod of approval.

"Come down, Merric," he says, beckoning. "What would you like to be?"

Merric is a half-orc, tall and wide-set, and generally quiet except when he has a pertinent observation. But his work speaks for itself, and his enthusiasm is clear; he has told Caleb more than once that he intends to specialize in Transmutation. He glances between Yussa and Caleb as he comes forward, clearly surprised to have been picked. "I can choose anything I want, Professor?" When he joins him at the front of the room, Caleb rolls the silk cocoon in his hand into his fingers to prepare to cast.

"Ja, within reason. Polymorph does not cover dragons, for example, but it can do large lizards of other sorts." C-Rex will return one day--just not here. "Think of an animal you like, and it is probably possible."

What he decides on his very simple: a bloodhound, because his family keeps them and he has always wanted to know what the world is like from their perspective--if it is as carefree as it looks. Caleb laughs, because he can relate. So he turns him into a bloodhound, and one of his friends follows him around the room as he investigates it, nose to the ground. Someone brings out a ball to play fetch with.

As Caleb thought, there is no getting back on track as they play and chatter excitedly among themselves, so he wraps things up quickly by reminding them of the reading they need to finish by next week and then sending them on their way slightly early. Quite a few stay, though, to talk with him about the spell, and all of them give a polite farewell to Yussa as they leave. Merric and his friend remain until last so Caleb can take a few minutes with them after he drops Polymorph to ask Merric about his experience. Eye-opening, apparently, and oddly freeing, which Caleb tells him is a perspective he shares. Judging that he seems happy and well in order, he lets the two of them go as well, and watches as Merric bravely stops to thank Yussa directly before he goes.

When the room is empty except for the two of them, Caleb looks to Yussa with clear fondness. "Good choice, Master Errenis. You really do have an eye for talent."

Yussa watches with quiet amusement as Caleb turns Merric into a dog, and as the young man delights in his new shape. He remains where he is, and it only takes one stern look from ten feet away to keep the bloodhound from sniffing around him. Once the class has ended, Yussa rises from his seat and folds his hands behind his back since he doesn't have large sleeves to hide them in.

The diminutive elf bows his head politely to the young half-orc towering over him, acknowledging his gratitude. He does not offer compliments, but there is kindness in the way he looks at Merric before the student leaves with his friend. He turns his attention to Caleb.

"Yes, I do," he answers with just the faintest trace of amusement. But it is also true. "And you have a way with students. That was most impressive, Master Widogast. They are enamored with you."

Perhaps he should have expected Yussa to turn that back around on him, but he has already given him so much praise today that he hardly knows what to do with it. From a man who won't give so much as the time of day to anyone he doesn't find worthy of his attention, who simply doesn't believe in flattery, it is truly overwhelming. Caleb's face warms, and he instinctively glances toward the floor, a stark contrast to his confidence during class.

"I am only trying to teach in a way that I would have found engaging at their age."

His lips flicker into a small, shy smile as he looks up again. "Still, I am glad that you think so. Thank you."

"The pleasure is mine," he says lightly. Yussa steps closer, enough that he has to look up at Caleb.

"Shall we?" He doesn't want to press, but he knows that there are errands Caleb wishes to run, and the sooner they manage that, the sooner they are somewhere quiet. Somewhere private. Yussa hasn't spent this much time around this many other people in some time. Especially outside of his own home.

He is looking forward to exhaling fully.

The suggestion to get going is what lets Caleb breathe again. With a relieved sigh, he nods, and chances leaning down to press a brief kiss into Yussa's hair.

"Yes. Let's get out of here."

They return to Caleb's office to grab what he needs and for both of them to bundle up. It is a little warmer outside than Caleb remembers it being this morning, but not enough that he would remove his scarf. He offers Yussa his arm as they walk together across campus and then emerge into the streets of the Shimmer Ward. The eight high towers of the Candles loom to the southeast, all visible from here by design. Castle Ungebroch casts its wide shadow even closer. Caleb turns away and leads Yussa to the west, into the Tangles and toward his home.

The sheer variety of businesses and residences, temples and brothels and markets and entertainment and artisans, to be found in close proximity in the Tangles makes it is easy to find what he needs. Even the Library of the Cobalt Soul is located in this district. Except in certain pockets, the polished pretention and intimidation of the Shimmer Ward is entirely absent. It is the oldest part of the city, and its winding streets are full of character. Zemnian influence is especially strong, and many people speak his language. Caleb likes living here.

With Yussa's input, for dinner he picks up a cut of lamb already rubbed and seasoned with herbs, and beets and greens and goat cheese for a salad. He can manage that. Luckily, he already has plenty of good wine at home thanks to Beauregard, who has taken great satisfaction in freely supplying her friends with bottles of the finest Lionett vintages while her father is out of the picture. He's certain even Yussa has ended up with a bottle or two. And for the morning, tea from the Blooming Grove, which Yussa is sure to appreciate.

His house is one of several similarly sized little cottages on a winding residential street near the city's western wall. It is quaint, two floors but not many rooms, and a small garden. It suits his needs well, and he is comfortable. But of course, compared to Tidepeak Tower, it is...well. There is really no comparison there at all.

"I am sorry, I know it is not much," he says with a tone of apology as he unlocks the door and lets Yussa step inside first.

The ground floor is almost entirely a single room encompassing the kitchen to the right and the living room to the left. It is all warm old wood, with low ceilings and thick exposed beams overhead. There is a heavy table in the kitchen and mismatched furniture around the fireplace in the living room. The curtains all match, but they are fringed with a thick, clumsy-looking tatted lace, and some are just slightly uneven or lopsided--a gift from Yasha when she was first learning to sew, which Caleb treasures.

But most important is the little tortoiseshell head that pops up from the sofa at the sound of the door opening, followed by a larger one with long white fur. Caleb smiles as he shuts the door behind him and clicks his tongue to draw them out.

"Ida, Fritz, come and meet Yussa."

The kiss to his hair earns a momentary flash of surprise. Caleb has never displayed his affection publicly, but they have also never been in a public place together. Yussa considers that as they head out for errands. He's back in his heavy cloak, hood up and arm linked with Caleb's both to avoid losing him and for the comfortable familiarity of his presence in a place that Yussa has not seen in decades.

It has not changed very much, especially the Tangles.

The size of the house does not seem to bother Yussa, nor does he react overmuch to the apology Caleb offers as he unlocks his door. He slips inside to be out of the chill and lets his hood fall back as he does. The house is as he might have imagined it, coming to know Caleb as he has. Mismatched, rustic, comfortable, and practical. He slips out of his cloak and absently hands it to Caleb as he steps further into the room, noticing the curtains in passing. This is not his home, he does not expect it to look like somewhere he would live. And to be very honest, he would be disturbed if his impressions of Caleb were so long that he could not have imagined what his home would look like.

The cats are also not a surprise.

As they appear, Yussa drops easily into a poised crouch, skirt smoothed to keep it against his legs, before the same hand is offered to the other members of the household. He is quite certain that he smells very different from the other people who might frequent this house.

After setting their groceries down, Caleb busies himself with hanging both of their outerwear on the pegs beside the door as Yussa crouches down to greet his cats. As he begins removing his boots, he watches Fritz approach first, the bolder and friendlier of the two, to sniff at Yussa's fingers. He is a large cat, and his fluffy white fur only makes him seem larger. It doesn't take very long before he begins rubbing his cheeks against Yussa's hand instead. Ida, smaller and shyer, hangs back and observes a little longer before following suit, sniffing cautiously at his sleeve rather than his fingers.

For Caleb, this is all as surreal as it is charming. He'd long assumed this would never actually happen--that Yussa had no interest in coming to Rexxentrum, and that was perfectly fine. But here he is now in his cluttered little house meeting his cats, dressed simply but beautifully in a Zemnian frock, and not seeming nearly as out of place as he should. Mentally recapping his day since Yussa's arrival is more of the same. Finding him in his office, bringing him to class, walking with him arm in arm across the Academy campus and through the streets of his neighborhood, buying food for dinner--things that could be normal if they weren't so completely unexpected.

Yussa is here just to see him. To watch him teach and spend a quiet evening together. Even with the number of times he has visited Tidepeak purely for a social call, Caleb is still trying to wrap his head around this.

"The big one is Fritz and the little one is Ida," he notes aloud, and picks up their bag of food to bring it to the kitchen. "There are a few strays I feed in the garden, but these two are the only permanent residents." For now, anyway.

"Fritz," he repeats as he greets the cat in question. He looks side-long but does not move or turn toward Ida as she sniffs delicately at his sleeve. "Frauline Ida."

Yussa stands smoothly and slowly as to not startle the cats. He takes the time then to remove his own boots, leaving them with Caleb's and revealing a pair of dark wool socks - difficult to imagine him owning any, but then the entire outfit is different than what Caleb is accustomed to seeing him in. The man has never had cause to see him outside of Nicodranas, after all, save once. And other planes don't require a dress code.

"I had cats, once upon a time," he admits.

After spotting Caleb's kitchen, Yussa drifts that way with the intent of making tea. Caleb is his host, but he also suspects the other wizard will want to cook dinner. He can see to this himself and be a somewhat useful guest. Or at least one that can see to himself while Caleb tends larger hosting duties.

Both of the cats end up following Yussa into the kitchen anyway, brushing against his ankles, where Caleb takes note of his wool socks. He supposes that with a wardrobe as extensive as Yussa's he must have something for every occasion, even if it doesn't see frequent use. Caleb is very glad he has decided to opt for an outfit very different from his usual today, both because he looks good in it and for practical purposes. He shudders to think of his cats leaving fur all over the delicate, expensive robes he typically wears.

He is gathering things to begin preparing dinner when Yussa joins him, commenting that he'd had cats in the past. This is new information to Caleb, but in retrospect it makes sense. He remembers Yussa's hand confidently stroking along the length of his back earlier today, and he'd greeted Ida and Fritz like someone who knows how to interact with them. Also, he just seems like a cat person.

"They are the perfect companion for a wizard, I think," he says warmly. It occurs to him that when he had Frumpkin, Yussa probably didn't ever seen him as a cat. Caleb tended to give him other forms to be useful in Nicodranas; a bird, a monkey, an octopus.

It also occurs to him that Yussa isn't merely looking around his kitchen just to look, but seems intent on finding something. "What are you searching for?" That comes to him too almost as soon as the words are out. What is the first thing Yussa always offers him? "If it is tea, there is a box from Caduceus on the counter to the right of the window. The kettle is on the stove."

"They are quiet," he says absently. One doesn't need to walk a cat, so there was no need to leave the tower to take care of them. Yussa liked the companionship. "And they can entertain themselves if given the opportunity to do so. Ah, thank you."

Yussa finds the box in question and makes sure the kettle has water in it before lighting the fire beneath it. He leaves it to boil and moves out of the way to be sure he and Caleb do not need to dance around each other.

He finds a place to sit and crosses his legs, hands resting in his lap even as Fritz brushes up against his leg.

The kitchen table makes a good place to sit as the kettle heats up and Caleb starts to prepare their meal. With how his life mapped out, there are a few fairly basic things he has had to learn rather late, and cooking is one of them.

"Exactly," he agrees, glancing up from where he is preparing their lamb to go into the oven. "But they are also around when you need them." Ida is sitting at his feet now, actually, staring up at him guilelessly. "I know you just want food," he tells her. "I am making our dinner now. Yours will come later."

His smile still lingers when he looks to Yussa again. "If you do not mind giving a little advice while you are here, I have a problem that could really benefit from your expertise, my friend. Not research related," he clarifies, knowing the sort of thing they typically help each other with. "There is a function at the Academy next week. Formal, ostentatious, and many of my least favorite people will probably be there. Unfortunately, I am required to be there also." That smile becomes a grimace. "I am wondering if you would help me decide what to wear. My wardrobe is very limited, but I am certain you can pull together something better from it than I could."

Yussa is intrigued when Caleb clarifies that it is not an arcane matter for which he seeks advice, but one of fashion. The archmage considers his younger colleague and gives a small nod.

"Of course I will lend what assistance I can."

He rises to find mugs for both of them as the kettle begins to whistle. Yussa plucks it up and deftly pours them each a cup. He examines the offerings from the Blooming Grove with a look of quiet, but clear excitement at the prospect of tasting it. Satisfied with his blend and Caleb's, Yussa retreats back to the table.

"What is the occasion?" he asks with the sort of mild curiosity that belies his interest.

"Thank you," Caleb says, relieved. Mostly he is glad that someone with a better sense for these things is going to just tell him what to wear. He'd found the prospect of dressing himself for an event like this quite daunting. He's worn the single nice set of robes he owns several times already. While he thinks it should be perfectly acceptable for him to continue wearing them, he's been informed otherwise by several sources.

After being quietly charmed by Yussa's obvious interest in his tea selection--and recalling vividly that the offer of similar tea was what won the Nein an audience with him int he first place--Caleb accepts his own cup with a nod and soft danke. He takes a sip before setting it aside so he can continue dinner prep as they talk.

"Headmaster Margolin," he says, with a sourness that indicates his opinion on the man, "has recently appointed one of the Martinet's annexes to the position of Deputy Headmaster. As always, the Academy's business is the Assembly's business." Of course it is, when Margolin is one of the eight himself. "This event is a particularly stuffy welcoming party for yet another pawn who has no business running a school."

Yussa hides his amusement over Caleb's tone behind a sip of tea.

"I look forward to their eventual humiliation and downfall," he says lightly. Margolin is in a tenuous position and it's impressive that he has not been unseated given the utter nightmare of Trent Ikithon's trial and deposition. Yussa suspects it is a matter of time - if he is wise, he will quietly resign at some point with enough distance from the trial to make it seem like a retirement. That being said, Yussa has some of his own opinions about Ludinus Da'leth and anyone that is or has ever been attached to him is worth suspicion.

"I suspect Da'leth is seeking influence, or at the very least a voice inside the Academy. I find his methods of amassing power disconcerting. I do not need to tell you to mind him."

Yussa has been aware of Da'leth's political maneuvering for some time and he told the Nein as much at some point. With the upheaval in the Assembly and the ripple effects from there, he has no doubt that the Martinet is scrambling to ensure a foundation to continue building.

Unseating Margolin certainly would be easier if he could have been implicated in Ikithon's crimes as well, with the certainty that he was fully aware of them and likely picking likely candidates to refer for the Volstrucker program himself. But Astrid and Wulf, who would know, could not be convinced to speak a word about anyone but Ikithon himself, and Caleb has only his suspicions. His position on the Assembly and as Headmaster is also inherited from his father, which entrenches him even more deeply. This is a matter the Cobalt Soul taskforce Caleb belongs to has discussed at length, and it has become still more frustrating since he began working under the man.

There is a soft snort under Caleb's breath when he says, "Ah, no. I am well aware of the Martinet's intentions." He is already the most influential figure in the Empire barring the king himself, yet maintaining that sort of power requires keeping a careful stranglehold on each and every avenue where someone could perceivably disrupt it. Da'leth has had centuries to perfect his technique, but Ikithon's ousting and public disgrace has loosened what had previously been an ironclad hold. Caleb and those he works with at the Soul are quite determined to unravel that wide-reaching net of his. Strand by strand if they must. He is prepared to do this work for the rest of his life.

But Yussa doesn't need to hear about that. What is relevant is, "I expect this move means I will be watched even more carefully than I am already. They cannot have a radical such as myself influencing our next generation of young wizards unchecked." He is slicing beets carefully on a relatively new-looking cutting board as he speaks. The juice stains his fingers red-purple.

"Da'leth also correctly suspects that my friends and I are not content to stop at Ikithon when it comes to excising the corruption in this country, beginning with dismantling the Assembly entirely."

"No, of course not," he says with a wry smile. Caleb is in a precarious position, but then so is the old guard at the Academy and in the Assembly. Caleb is, in fact, what amounts to a radical - and a relatively young one at that, with plenty of zeal and determination left in him. He is dangerous. But he is also too visible now to target with ease. He cannot be smothered the way he might have been back when he was the same man who looked at Yussa Errenis with such terror. He is not that man anymore.

"Then he will be putting his armor on. But I have no doubt you will find your way between the cracks. It is old armor, after all, and I do not think it has been tested in a long time."

And the sharper part of him looks forward to seeing the Martinent's mettle tested by those who have honed their weapons outside of his sphere of influence. Yussa sips his tea.

"But, until then, you must appear at this particular occasion or else be seen as out of step."

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