Cerryl rubbed his chin, again wishing that he could grow more than fuzz. He and the six lancers turned out of the wizard's square--the square just outside of the gate into the courtyard of the wizard's tower--and down the road to the main artisan's square. The sun glinted off of the white stone of the city, the light washing over Cerryl and giving him comfort. He thought about Tellis the scriveneer. It seemed so long ago that he had been Tellis's apprentice. This led him to think about how far he'd come during his life, from a poor beggar--the orphaned child of a renegade wizard--to a millhand, teaching himself to read, then thinking he'd spend the rest of his life as a scriveneer's apprentice... Not many wizards came from such meager backgrounds. Most were of coin or of a wizarding family. The only other person that Cerryl could think of that came from a lowly background was Kinowin--one of the wizards that had confronted Kesrik. And Kinowin had to have worked hard for his status; besides logic, one reason Cerryl thought this was the large scar across Kinowin's face.

Cerryl resisted the temptation to shake his head as he walked into the open of the bustling artisan's square. Everyone scurried out of his way, men looking down, women hiding their children, and children cowering behind their mothers. It's too bad that wizards must be so feared in Fairhaven, but if we didn't maintain such peace and order, all would be vile, dirty, and full of crime. Wizards have to keep a tight noose to maintain the peace of Fairhaven--for that is the name of the city, a "haven" that is "fair", just and beautiful--even at the cost of our popularity, and some of the people's freedoms. Here, we have created a utopia...

Cerryl's choas senses picked up a since of urgency from someone nearby, a strong sense of urgency... and violence. Between that and his previous sense of something odd, Cerryl kept his mind sharp. He was now in the center of the artisan's square.

There was a disturbance, not far in front of him. "What's going on!" he bellowed. All was silenced. Suddenly, a man lunged at him from in the crowd, a dagger in hand. The man was distraught. Distraught with a sense of urgency... The lancers behind Cerryl quickly rushed forward and pinned the man to the ground.

"Do you want us to kill him, ser?"

"No. I will deal with him. Remove his mask."

Cerryl froze. It was Tellis.

Cerryl didn't know what to do. Tellis was like a father to him. He couldn't punish the man, not it the brutal ways preferred by wizards--a man was either put to death/tortured by chaos fire, or sent to work on the Wizard's Road with all sense of wits, individuality, personality, or history stripped from him. But if Cerryl didn't punish Tellis, every man in Fairhaven would begin to think they could attack a wizard and get away with it. The only thing Cerryl could do was stall with questions. Cerryl took on a cool face and a cold tone. "Why, Tellis?"

Tellis squinted at Cerryl, then his eyes widened in shock and horror. "Cerryl?... They didn't say it'd be you... By the curse of the angels, what have I done!" Tellis was utterly terrified.

"What did who say, Tellis? Did someone make you do this."

"I...I can't tell... They'll kill them..."

The only "them" that Cerryl could think meant so much to tellis were Beryl and Benthann. Beryl was an old woman who cooked and cleaner for Tellis, and Benthann was a voluptuous woman who shared Tellis's bed. "They'll kill them anyway since you didn't kill me. Now tell me, Tellis, who did this?" He looked at the master scriveneer with beseeching eyes and whispered, "Please, Tellis. Please..."

"T-These men--bandits--they came into my house brandishing cold iron. They took Benthann. And Beryl. They said that I would never see them again if I didn't kill someone. I finally agreed. They told me that on this morning, a young White would be walking through here. I was to kill him and run away, only then would they spare Benthann and Beryl..." He started to sob. "I am... so... sorry, Cerryl--I mean, ser... I just..." The rest of the man's words were inaudible to Cerryl, even with his hearing so enhanced by his magic.

"Where are they?"

"... I ... don't know..."

"Ser?" asked one of the lancers. "What should we do?"

"Nothing yet." There was another disturbance behind Cerryl. Someone was trying to run away. Cerryl turned quickly. Sure enough, a bandit was trying to push through the crowd. "Lancers, chase that man! Leave the scriveneer to me, now go!"

After a slightly reluctant moment, the lancers ran after the man, quickly seizing him and bringing him to Cerryl's feet.

"Scum! Where are you holding the hostages!" The man didn't answer.

Cerryl turned to one of the lancer captains. "Go to the tower. Explain what is happening to High Wizard Sterol. Ask him to advise me on what to do with this vermin."

"Yes, ser."

Not more than fifteen minutes later, the captain returned on a horse. The lancer captain dismounted bowed his head to Cerryl.

"What did he say?"

"The High Wizard Sterol replies: "I send my concern and hope for a favorable outcome. You may employ whatever tactics you deem fit to extract the information. Once the culprits are found, you are to deal with them in whichever maner is to your liking. You are creative enough to find an..." The lancer captain gulped. "...extremely painful punishment for the vermin. Have fun." The captain, and the increasingly thick crowd surrounding the scene, were all hushed.

Cerryl gathered chaos forces around himself and stared the bandit in his face. "Where are you holding the hostages?" he asked calmly, though his voice was laced with malice. The bandit only spat at Cerryl. The young student wizard forced a small amount of chaos fire into the palm of his hand and struck the bandit across his right cheek.

"Aei...!" he screamed, desperately trying to clutch at his face, but restrained by concrete grip of the lancers.

"Tell me where they are!" The man again refused. Cerryl sent a blast of chaos fire at the man's legs. The bandit fell to the ground, screaming in pain. "Release him," Cerryl ordered the lancers. They complied. "Where?" After another silence, Cerryl sent chaos fire at the man's right arm.

"Aeeii!" wailed the bandit, but he still would not answer.

Cerrly flamed the man's left arm. "Where are they!" Cerryl stared intently into the bandit's eyes. The bandit trembled. "Tell me. NOW!" They bandit betrayed himself with a glance at a shop to Cerryl's right. "Ah, craftmaster Fasse's shop?" Cerryl sent out his senses to Fasse's shop. There were nine people, all holding very still. He could tell that three were bound and gagged. The White student looked down at the tortured bandit writhing on the ground. "Thank you. You have been most useful." With that, he flared chaos fire over the bandit, fully charring the man's body. Better not turn the body completely into ashes until this entire ordeal is over with... By then, several other small squads of lancers had come to the aid. Cerryl pointed to Fasse's shop and shouted to two squads of the lancers, "Go in there and bring out any brigands and bandits. There will be three hostages. Be gentle with them. Your first concern is to get them out of there and out of danger."

"Yes, ser!"

The people stepped aside, making way for the dozen lancers. Cerryl heard shouts and the sound of swords clashing with lances. Come on... Get them out of there...

Four lancers ran out of the shop, two of them each carrying a bound, gagged, and blindfolded woman, and the other two helping a beaten man that was gagged and bound only at the wrists. They brought the three to Cerryl. "Untie craftmaster Fasse and help until the ladies' wrists and ankles." As he gave the order, he knelt down and removed one of the women's blindfold and gag.

"Oh, Cerryl!" She saw his white clothes and bowed her head. "That is... thank you, ser."

"Are you alright, Beryl."

She nodded her head.

"Good."

The now unbound Fasse bowed to Cerryl. "Thank you, ser. I owe you my very life."

Cerryl nodded to the craftmaster and shrugged, moving over to Benthann, whose wrists and ankles were almost undone. Cerryl removed her gag, but not her blindfold. The guards had already finished untieing her and she had beat Cerryl to removing the cloth from her eyes.

She gasped. "Cerryl!" She flung her arms around him, nearly tackling him so that he was sitting flatly on the ground. There was a murmer amongst the crowd.

"...flame her..."

"...never...wizard..."

"...poor wretch..."

"...just saved...and now will die..."

She heard the whispers and stared at Cerryl's white garb. "Angel-damned! Cerryl... ser... I-I am so sorry... I knew not... Please... Spare me."

Cerryl stood, brushed off, and offered Benthann his hand. "You have been through much, lady. You must be weary."

"...lucky...could've been fried..."

"...fortunate...favors her..."

Cerryl ignored the gossip. He had far more important things to worry about. The eight remaning lancers forced six bandits out of Fasse's shop to stand before Cerryl.

The student wizard glared each one in the eyes, gathering the forces of chaos.