The party had finally died down after a few hours, and while a few of the younger members of the Wizards’ Council busied themselves with packing everything up, Krystopher’s right-hand man, Cerebrum, led him to the aforementioned head of council’s study.

“You must understand, Mordrell,” Cerebrum told him as the two of them walked down the halls of the Golden Castle, “that Krystopher Talbal can be fickle. He has already seen a lot of things that are going to happen, and he hates to stray too far from time’s intended path. That-” Cerebrum looked over his shoulder at Mordrell, narrowing his eyes at him as he added, “-and he is the head of the Wizards’ Council. You will treat him with the utmost respect, understood?”

“Of course,” Mordrell replied. He was previously unaware an old man could be so intimidating. There was a beat of silence between himself and Cerebrum - an uncomfortably tense one - that prompted Mordrell to add, “Understood.”

“Good,” Cerebrum muttered.

The rest of the walk to Krystopher’s study was only filled with the sounds of themselves and some knights walking through the halls. Mordrell studied the stitches on Cerebrum’s old, patched up hat as he followed him. They turned to enter the centermost tower of the castle, and began to make their way up to the top. It took at least five minutes, and by the time they had reached Krystopher’s study, Mordrell was thoroughly exhausted.

“I’ll allow you some time to catch your breath,” Cerebrum told him.

Mordrell gasped out his thanks as he sat down against a wall. After a few seconds of panting, he looked up at Cerebrum and questioned, “How are you barely tired?!”

“I’ve come up these stairs many times,” Cerebrum explained. “With the help of the other councillors, I developed a potion that allows whomever drinks it to have increased endurance when climbing up stairs. It’s also very good for for your joints.”

Mordrell pouted. “You could’ve given mesome.”

“You’re still young - you don’t need it.”

Mordrell took a couple more minutes to catch his breath before entering Krystopher’s study. The room was painted a dark purple and decorated with various crystal balls and bookshelves. To the right was his cauldron, filled with a liquid in a shade of blue Mordrell had never seen before, and his staff, topped with a crystal ball, resting next to it. In the center of the room was a long, tidy desk. Sitting at the desk was none other than Krystopher Talbal himself. He was one of the few wizards in the council that wore a hat with no rim. His purple hat had a silver stripe near the bottom, and his surprisingly plain robes were the same purple as his hat. His white beard wasn't nearly as long as Mordrell expected it to be - he guessed it would reach just above Krystopher’s waist.

“We are on time?” Cerebrum asked.

“Just as foretold,” Krystopher replied. He then turned his attention to Mordrell as he said, “Welcome, young Synodus, to the Wizards’ Council. Did you enjoy the welcoming party?”

“Yes sir,” Mordrell replied, straightening his back just a little bit more.

Krystopher chuckled. “Please, just call me Krys.”

Both Mordrell and Cerebrum stared blankly at Krystopher for a moment before Mordrell quickly replied, “Of course! Whatever you say, Krys!”

Krysthoper’s hands interlocked as he said, “Now, as I’m sure you’re aware, necromancy is not a very popular branch of magic. There is a stigma around it, and as such, we have struggled to find someone to fill that niche in the Wizards’ Council.” He smiled wide as he finished, “Until now, that is.”

Mordrell’s eyes lit up at Krystopher’s implication. He figured he was chosen for necromancy, but…!

Krystopher stood up, seemingly for no good reason. “Mordrell Synodus, from this day forward, you shall study, collect and catalog all necromantic spells in the name of the Wizards’ Council! Go forth and show the kingdom of Knighton there is no need to fear necromancy.”

Mordrell stared for a moment, then, as respectfully as he could muster, asked, “I’m sorry, could you explain what you mean by ‘collect and catalog all necromantic spells?’”

“Well it’s quite simple!” Krystopher replied with a smile, “There are many magical spells in the world we live in. It can be quite difficult to remember them all, and even harder to keep it all in line. That’s why we classify and catalog all magic! To make it easier to identify different types of magic and make sure it’s all under control. We don’t want it falling into the wrong hands, after all!”

What.

“Of course not! That would be… bad,” Mordrell replied.

“Indeed!” Krystopher walked over to a bookshelf and grabbed a book. He returned to his desk and handed the book to Mordrell. “I also want you to have this.”

Mordrell rested his staff against Krystopher’s desk and took the book with both hands. The back cover was completely blank, but the front cover had a large, ovular sticker stuck on that read, “Magical Wizards’ Council Diary” under a long line.

As he turned the book over in his hands, Mordrell replied, “A… diary?”

“Yes! Living in a tower by yourself can get rather lonely, so this diary can keep your brain healthy while you’re cooped up in there recording spells!” Krystopher explained as he opened a drawer in his desk.

Mordrell could only nod along.

Krystopher took two pens out of the drawer and closed it as handed them to Mordrell. They were both glitter pens. And they were both shades of bright pink; one was closer to magenta than the other.

“…Pink pens?”

“Yes, pink.” Krystopher’s eyes narrowed as he asked, “Do you have a problem with that?”

“No! No, I love pink!” Mordrell the avid pink-hater replied.

“Good.” Krystopher’s glare only softened slightly. He pointed to the diary he had handed Mordrell earlier and told him, “Write your name on the diary now.”

“With… the glitter pens?” Mordrell asked.

“Yes.”

Without further hesitation, Mordrell placed the book down on Krys’ desk, popped off the cap of one of his new pink glitter pens and scribbled his name onto the front. Seeing it done, Krystopher opened up another drawer in his desk and took out something smaller and shinier than the pens. He handed it to Mordrell, who held it in one hand and looked it over curiously. It was a golden brooch, though whether the brooch was actually made of gold or simply coloured like it was impossible for Mordrell to tell. It was shaped like a staff, and had a four-pointed star behind it.

“That brooch is proof that you are part of the Wizards’ Council. Keep it on your person at all times, and do not lose it,” Krystopher told him.

Mordrell looked up from the brooch to Krystopher with a raised eyebrow. “How come I’ve never seen anyone wearin’ it?”

“The others keep theirs in their pockets or on the insides of their cloaks, away from view, I’ve noticed.” Krystopher chuckled as he added, “I suppose they do not like much publicity.” Cerebrum nodded in agreement.

As Mordrell pinned the brooch to his cape, Krystopher told him, “That is all for now. Take your diary and pens with you, and explore the rest of the Golden Castle until it is time to leave.”

Mordrell scooped up his new diary in one arm and stuffed the glitter pens in a pants pocket with another. He then grabbed his staff and replied, “I will.”

“And young Synodus, remember,” Krystopher said, “that there is no limit to the things you can achieve. If you allow yourself to experiment, you will find that there is nothing you cannot do.”