Andy awoke to knocking on the double doors outside the bunk room. He scrambled to get up and put on some undergarments, pants and a shirt. Only then did it strike Andy what an odd setup the house was. Unless a guest already knew about the door to the den on the other side of the house, they would have to go through a set of communal bunks to get to the main floor.

  Not a very privacy-centric layout.

  Andy slowly opened the door, peering outside.

  A short, stout man with a scraggly beard sans mustache, dressed in deep purple robes and a wide-brimmed yellow hat, stood smiling widely. He carried a large, leather satchel at his side. “Hello!” he said. “My name is Percival, and I’m from the Enchanter’s College. I am here for the sigil installation.”

  “Ah yes,” Andy said, opening the door. “Come on in. We’ll head up these steps here.”

  Andy guided the stout man through the bunks. Noel and Pliny were both out cold, snoring up a storm.

  “Sleeping soundly,” Percival said in a whisper, smiling sincerely as they ascended the steps. He drug his hand across the railing. “And beautiful craftsmanship on this staircase.”

  The man seemed fascinated by every detail of the house, his gaze moving up and down the den wall. “What a magnificent collection of weapons… And are you simmering perpetual stew? How quaint. This is a positively lovely home. How long have you had it?”

  “Oh,” Andy said, “It’s not mine. It belongs to–”

  “Percival, I take it?” Morwen said, emerging from the pantry, “Pleased to meet you. My name is Morwen.” She extended her hand.

  “Ah yes, Morwen,” Percival extended his hand, grasping hers warmly. “I was just telling this young man, I admire your collection of weaponry.”

  “Thank you,” Morwen said. “I’ve collected many pieces over the years. Can I offer you some coffee?”

  “Oh, that would be delightful,” Percival said.

  Andy fetched the coffee pot from the grate on the fireplace and poured a cup for the Enchanter, handing it to him.

  “Thank you very much, sir,” he said, taking it and sipping deeply.

  “Now, Lilly tells me you need a room where speaking can occur without fear of prying, magical or otherwise. Is that correct?”

  “That is correct,” Morwen said. “Lilly speaks very highly of you, and she assures me that you are sympathetic to the Order’s cause.”

  Andy watched the two of them. Percival smiled sincerely, eager to be of service, as Morwen eyed him up and down.

  She’s ensuring he’s trustworthy…

  “Ok,” she said, finally. “Could you follow me up the ladder here? Andy, you can come along too.”

  “Certainly,” said Percival, following Morwen as she ascended the ladder to her quarters.

  Andy followed behind, emerging to the third story of the house, which he hadn’t yet seen.

  There was a simple bed, made tidily, a small dresser with a water basin on it, a desk with a quill and some papers and a wooden chair. In the corner, there was a small bookshelf filled with books, not big, scholarly tomes, but rather small ones. Beside the small bookshelf, there were two comfortable-looking armchairs, and an oil-burning lamp on the side table.

  “What lovely quarters if you don’t mind me saying,” said Percival.

  Other than a gentle nod, Morwen remained stoic. Andy noticed that she was holding back to some degree… was she nervous about this man? Or about having people in her personal space?

  “I’d like this room to be completely sealed for private conversation,” she said.

  “Very good, very good,” said Percival. “It is certainly achievable. Do you have the requisite ground quartz and stone tablet? Lilly assured me that she would pass along my requirements.”

  “I do,” Morwen said, heading over to the desk and moving some papers around. She lifted a circular stone tablet, placing it on the floor before the enchanter, and produced a small bag, handing it to him.

  The enchanter opened the drawstring of the bag, looking inside. He took a pinch of finely-ground powder, tasting a bit. “Yes, yes, this is correct. And very high quality. This shouldn’t take long at all.” He raised his eyebrows and grinned. “Where would you like the sigil mounted?”

  “Where do you suggest?” Morwen said.

  “Well, anywhere in this room will do. The sigil will cover a spherical area with a radius of twenty feet. The entire room should be covered, as well as a significant portion of the second floor, too.”

  “Very good,” Morwen said. “How about we place it underneath the bed to keep it inconspicuous.”

  “Ah, that will work just fine,” Percival said. “But, if you truly want it to be inconspicuous, may I recommend under the dresser? The bed is always the first place Wizards and other people with arcane experience look for sigils.”

  “Sure,” Morwen said. “Andy, could you help me adjust the dresser?”

  Andy nodded and joined Morwen at the dresser, lifting it off the ground and moving it a few feet. It was quite heavy, fully loaded with clothes and whatever else she kept in it. A few days ago, it might have been difficult to handle, but after achieving a rank in [athletics], it wasn’t a problem for him.

  The Enchanter placed the stone tablet on the ground and kneeled on the floor. He reached into a satchel at his side and retrieved a small brush and a glass jar full of a white paste.

  He dipped his brush in, and began to paint a small circle around the circumference of the tablet. He took a while, dabbing here and there, making lines and curves all over the face of the stone before placing his brush and paste back in his bag.

  Finally, he took the satchel of ground quartz and sprinkled it across the face of the stone tablet.

  “Okay,” he said. “This adhesive dries relatively quickly, so I am going to blow the excess dust off and then I’ll perform the enchantment.”

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  Morwen nodded.

  Percival bent low to the ground, placing his face beside the surface of the stone. With a great inhale let out a gust of breath, blowing the quartz dust off of the stone tablet. The only dust that remained was held in place by the adhesive. It formed a beautiful, intricate sigil.

  “Very good,” said Percival. He sat up, cross-legged, gazing down at the sigil before him. He reached into his satchel and produced a small crystal. “I brought a little extra juice,” he said, smiling.

  He held the crystal in his left hand and placed his right hand on the stone tablet. As Percival sank into a deeper and deeper trance, the crystal in his hand began to glow.

  Percival’s beard and robes began to wave eerily, as if in zero gravity, and the loose quartz dust began to hover two or three inches off the ground.

  Then, the quartz dust that formed the sigil on the tablet began to glow, dimly at first, and then brightly.

  “I cast {silent sphere} in perpetuity,” Percival said in a voice not much louder than a whisper. “I bind and consecrate this sigil in the service of silence.”

  The sigil glowed brightly, finally emitting a blinding white light before going dim. Percival’s hair and robes fell back down to their customary obedience to the laws of gravity, and the loose quartz dust fell back to the ground.

  Percival breathed in deeply and exhaled before standing up. He looked down at the sigil. It pulsed gently with rose-colored light.

  “Splendid!” said Percival. “The sigil has taken the spell, and should cast it in perpetuity for as long as the charge continues.”

  “How long is that?” Morwen asked.

  “Well, with the quality of quartz dust you supplied, and with the magicke crystal I used, I’d estimate somewhere between five and ten years.”

  “Wow,” Morwen said. “Not bad.”

  “As long as the rose light pulses, it is active, so if there’s ever any doubt, just make sure that the sigil is still glowing.”

  “Thank you, Percival,” said Morwen, “I appreciate it.”

  Andy and Morwen moved the dresser back over the sigil, returning it to its original place, before they all descended down the ladder.

  In the den, Morwen reached into her coin purse. “What do I owe you for your services?” She asked.

  “Oh heavens, no,” Percival said, raising his hands in friendly protest. “It’s a pro bono job. I admire the spirit of the Order of the Behemoth, and I owe Lilly a favor. I couldn’t possibly accept payment. Besides, you supplied your own materials.”

  “And you supplied an expensive-looking magicke crystal,” Morwen shot back.

  “Well, I’ll tell you what,” Percival said, glancing at the fireplace. “I will accept a bowl of perpetual stew, a glass of something refreshing, and some company while I eat.”

  Morwen raised her eyebrows in surprise and amusement. “We can do that,” she said.

  “Excellent!” Percival said, plopping down into an armchair.

  Morwen disappeared into the pantry, returning with a glass of dark ale, an inch or two of dark foam topping the drink.

  Andy retrieved a bowl, a spoon, a napkin, and a ladle before returning to the fireplace. He served Percival a generous portion of stew.

  “Oh, just lovely,” he said, accepting the bowl and the glass. “I am just absolutely tickled at my luck today.” He took a heaping spoonful of stew, slurping on it with delight.

  “I hope you like it,” Andy said. “I’ve been keeping this fire going for a few days now.

  “It is just splendid,” Percival said. “And it is just perfectly seasoned.”

  Ordinarily, Andy would take these compliments with a grain of salt, but Percival seemed genuinely delighted with the bowl of stew.

  The Enchanter took a gulp of the ale. “And this stout pairs just perfectly with it. Such a depth of flavor. My compliments to the chef… and to the brewer!” He bellowed with laughter.

  Morwen took a seat beside him. “So, how long have you been with the Enchanter’s College?” She asked, making polite conversation.

  “Ah, many decades, now,” he said. “Affiliate faculty. Gives me flexibility and keeps me from too much scrutiny.”

  “Scrutiny?” Andy asked.

  “Ah, well, you know, all Cresthaven institutions are subject to at least some amount of oversight from the Supreme Ministry. But affiliate faculty members are treated like absolute scum. We teach the introductory courses that the full-time faculty disdain, and we don’t qualify for pensions.”

  “Sounds… terrible, actually,” Morwen said. “Aren’t professors supposed to be prestigious?”

  “It’s a myth!” Percival said, laughing with a jolly grin. “Everyone who actually works at a college, or at least at my college, knows that the institution depends on the underpaid labor of affiliate Enchanters hired on annual contracts.” He took another sip of beer. “But, you see, it’s a double edged sword.”

  “How’s that?” Andy asked.

  Percival slurped another spoonful of stew and hummed with delight. “Well, I don’t have to attend faculty meetings. I don’t have to advise new Enchanters. I only have to show up to my lecture hall, three days per week, for two hours each day. And with that, I gain access to their library, their workshops, their laboratories, and their other facilities. If I were trying to make my entire living from teaching, well, forget it. But as an Enchanter, I can do plenty of private jobs and get by just fine. Plus, I prefer to lend my services to clients whom… neither the nobility nor the college would approve of.”

  “Well, we certainly appreciate your help,” Morwen said.

  “It truly is no problem at all,” Percival said. “As I mentioned, I owed Lilly a favor, and I got a delicious bowl of stew!”

  Percival made some more small talk with Morwen, naming people, places, and things that Andy had no idea about. He made himself useful by clearing Percival’s dishes. The cheerful Enchanter met Andy’s service with gratitude and joy.

  Finally, Percival departed. Morwen saw him out the den door and down the path, bidding him farewell.

  “Well,” Morwen said as she entered the den again. “We’ve got a safe room, now.”

  “Sounds like we have a safe room and a half,” Andy said. “Percival mentioned the radius was twenty feet. It probably covers the den, too.”

  “Good point,” Morwen said. She looked above her head, pointing straight upward. “It’s there, about ten feet away. Yes, we should be covered now.” She leaned back in her chair, exhaling. “What a relief.”

  ***

  The evening came. Pliny and Noel joined Andy and Morwen in the dining room for some after-dinner cards, a game very similar to rummy.

  Noel’s shipment still had not come. “I wonder what’s holding it up,” Noel mused absentmindedly between hands. “It must be arriving tomorrow.”

  A grim look crossed Pliny’s face as he collected the cards and shuffled, but he held his tongue, at least for a few more hands.

  Finally, Noel excused himself and retired.

  The moment Noel left earshot, Pliny looked at Morwen and whispered harshly. “They’ve taken advantage of him. They’ve denied him his due payment. I’m tired of waiting around, can’t we find these swindlers?”

  Morwen nodded to Pliny, not so much in agreement as in acknowledgement of his frustration. “Let’s give it a couple more days. It’s possible that Noel is right and the shipment is simply delayed. You know how these things go.”

  “I need to talk to him about–” Pliny began.

  “Let him save face,” Morwen said. “If you embarrass him about his handling of the situation and the shipment comes in a day or two, you’ll do more harm than good.”

  Pliny huffed.

  Andy could tell Pliny meant well, but that he was beginning to lose his temper. He wondered how many times he had been stiffed on the job, or how many times he had seen Noel taken advantage of. He could tell Pliny’s instincts came from a good place, but ultimately, Morwen’s attitude made more sense. No need to stir the pot so soon.

  “Let’s give it until the end of the week,” Morwen said. “And if it doesn’t arrive, we’ll find the adventuring party and… make a gentle suggestion that they settle their outstanding debts.”