Disclaimer: BMT belongs to Trudi Canavan

Rothen's head was pounding unbearably.

"Uh," he groaned and squeezed his eyes shut. He knew that pain; he had overdosed nemmen. Struggling to focus, he sent his mind into his body and applied some healing energy to the raw tissues. He sighed in relief as the pain receded.

"That's better," he muttered, but as soon as he was able to collect his bearings the memories from the previous night flooded his thoughts and he wished for the blessed oblivion of drug-induced slumber.

"Sonea…" there was no escaping the terrible reality.

Rothen opened his eyes. The grey light that penetrated the paper window screens indicated that dawn was approaching. Sonea would be rising at this time… He blinked furiously, he had to regain some measure of control over himself.

As he rolled to a sitting position, a wave of vertigo overtook his senses. He should report this reaction to a healer, but he knew he wouldn't. Rothen needed the drug or he would have to give up sleeping altogether. Vinara would realize he had been using nemmen for a longer period than he admitted. He rose and approached his wardrobe. He had to function somehow. Maybe it would be easier if he concentrated on his daily chores and pushed the reality to the back of his mind for later examination. He donned on fresh robes and entered his guest room.

A cup of sumi, he thought wistfully, remembering Sonea's distaste for the drink. He shivered, failing once again to stay clear of the dangerous territory in his mind. Before he could sink into misery again a growling noise made him stop.

Rothen peered into the murky half-light in the room and frowned. Yaldin was slumped in one of his cushioned armchairs. He was snoring loudly, his head lolling backwards and his mouth agape.

So, Rothen grimaced at the elderly man. He's keeping an eye on me, is he?

He considered whether he should rouse his friend and send him to his bed or let him be for the moment, they could share a cup of morning sumi to start the day, but before he could make up his mind a timid tap at the door caught his attention. Frowning, he turned to face the door. Who would visit him at this hour of the morning? Even his servant didn't usually arrive until much later.

Worried, Rothen sent a little magic at the door. It swung open revealing the dark corridor of the Magicians' Quarters. It was peaceful and deserted. Baffled, Rothen went out to the landing and created a globe light to make the darkness retreat. Neither on his floor nor on the floor below a living soul could be found however.

He returned to his apartment, concerned that he was suffering from hallucinations now. He was closing the door when a whiteness caught his eye. Looking at the floor, he drew in a startled breath. There was an envelope at his threshold. He picked it up and retreated into his private rooms.

The letter was addressed to a Lord Rothen of the Magicians' Guild. The handwriting was unfamiliar.

Feeling the stirrings of excitement, he tore it open and brought out a folded sheet of paper. Straightening it out, he stared in astonishment at a rough sketch of an animal. Had he fallen a victim to some childish prank?

Trying to make sense of this strange correspondence, Rothen scrutinized the drawing. What kind of animal could that be? Some kind of a rodent maybe?

Rothen caught his breath.

"Ceryni," he breathed in awed recognition.

Hi there! I am happy to say that I finally resolved some plot issues, and the action should progress much faster from now on. I hope you'll enjoy my approach which will go along different avenues than Trudi.