Dissection of Spells [21 Hivvem 4261]
Prof. Gostegg:"Ah, hello, Sythyry. Who are these other people? I don't believe they're in my classes."
Me: (provides sensible introductions)
Prof. Gostegg:"And you have come to my office an hour before my actual office hours because...?"
Me:"Because I have to do some ducal business in an hour, and ... well, this matter might be ducal too. Or at least city guard matter."
Rhedwy:"Sythyry is now the adventurer. Zie always makes everything sound like the very important thing."
Esory:"Oh, right. Of course."
Prof. Gostegg:"Well, can't the city guard do it?"
Me:"Is there anyone in the city guard you'd consider competent at Dissection of Spells?"
Prof. Gostegg:"A former student or two. No better than you, Sythyry. So, no, not really." Which stung, of course. Serves me right for coming outside of official office hours.
Me:"Well, can you take a look? Here's the Eye of Mirizan and Melizan."
He does like using the Eye. He's got his own tools, of course, and they're technically just as good in most ways. The Eye remembers what it noted, though, and will reveal it quite nicely and pleasingly to a master. Which Gostegg is, and which I am not.
Prof. Gostegg:"Well, someone has tried to cover her tracks, hasn't she? Thelvion, I'm going to cast two spells on you. Please don't resist them."
Thelvion:"I shall not!"
Prof. Gostegg:"Well, then. Someone has cast a pattern spell on you that turns you into a Rassimel. It's permanant. And it's quite thoroughly occluded."
Thelvion:"Permanant? Does that mean I can't ever change back?"
Rhedwy:"Change back? You know about this spell, Thelvion, and you do not tell us?"
Thelvion:"Change back to Herethroy ... I mean, I am really Herethroy, Prof. Gostegg?"
Prof. Gostegg:"Again, in the spirit of inspection, pray allow me to inspect your psyche intimately .... Well, isn't that odd?"
Thelvion:"What is it?"
Prof. Gostegg:"You have, if I am correct, a Creoc god-connection in the utterly standard Herethroy way, albeit a rather underdeveloped Creoc branch on your magerium. And a heartily-trained Healoc branch, despite a distinct lack of a god-connection to Mircannis."
Thelvion capered around the room. "I'm Herethroy! I really am Herethroy! I knew it!"
Me:"Esory, the next time we agree that something is preposterous, remind me that I really am an adventurer, and so it is more likely than not to be true."
Esory:"Right-o! It's all your fault, lizard."
Me:"Oh, Prof. Gostegg? Does his magerium look normal aside from that?"
Prof. Gostegg:"I certainly don't see any anomalies."
Me:"The branches are the right shape?"
Prof. Gostegg:"If they were not, that would be an anomaly. What are you getting at?"
Me:"Um, never mind." I am unsure of the social graces required for declaring a friend to be a suspected bonstable.
Prof. Gostegg:"Well, I do believe you have some ducal business to take care of. Also your non-Rassimel friend is cavorting dangerously amid the over-tall and under-balanced stacks of manuscripts. Take himself and yourself away, if you please. I shall see you in class. Ah, and here is your Eye back."
Us:Goodbye! Thank you!
Rhedwy:"How is it that you did not know of your magical arrangements?"
Thelvion:"My parents had me do Healoc lessons when I was young, so I've always been tolerably good at it. And didn't encourage me to do other magic very much."
Rhedwy:"So your parents know that you are the Herethroy, not the Rassimel? But ... your parents? How many were there?"
Rhedwy:"Ah, adopted. But this parental advice suggests they know from early that you are Herethroy."
Thelvion:"It does, doesn't it? But they never wanted me to have any Herethroy friends, or read Herethroy books, or have anything to do with them."
Everyone else:"I beg your pardon?"
Irigatur:"Cyarrgone. The Herethroy ruling family of Cyarrgone were mostly assassinated some thirty years ago, except for a baby boy taken under the care of a notorious Zi Ri. He hasn't been seen since."
Irigatur:"Maybe. You're Llezcaryg's grandchild?"
Irigatur:"Then no. It was Llezcaryg who spirited the rightful heir off."
So we went to the library. Thelvion paid for all of us. Irigatur dredged up some books, and, indeed, Irigatur's story is correct, and it would put the prince at the same age as Thelvion, and the adoption the year after the vanishment.
Thelvion looked a bit dizzy. "So I'm the long-lost prince of Cyarrgone?"
Me:"I may never be able to call you tedious again."
Thelvion:"Tedious...? Never mind. You're going to visit the nendrai now, aren't you?"
Me:"It is that time ... it's a bit late in fact."
Thelvion:"I must come with you. I must have this spell removed!"
Me:"I don't know that that's a good idea..."
Thelvion:"Quickly! We can argue as we run!"
We did. "What will your lover think? Won't you risk being assassinated? Don't you want to find out the real story? Wouldn't a prime spellweaver be a better choice than a nendrai?" It didn't do any good, though. He didn't want to put off being the right species for a moment longer than necessary.