Frill was nerveously tripping through the corridors of the palace. The fancy colours and beautiful flourishes on his best outfit did not please him like it usually did, and his puppets were slowly lacking behind him, carrying his spellbook and magic lexica. He stopped outside of the door to the great throne room for a moment, wiping the sweat off his forehead and smoothening back his hair before refitting the hat. It's bells ringed, somehow too loud for his serious situation. His puppet finally caught up with him, and he picked the books up off it before turning to the guard.
The guard was a huge man, draped in long yellow and red robes. In his hand he held a crude tool that Frill was quite sure would horribly rend anything trying to enter unasked for. The guard took a single look at him. "No Books. The Momus has decreed that no-one can bring magical effects into the throne chamber."
Frill seriously considered arguing with the man for a second, but eventually turned around and returned the books to the puppet, who walked off towards his chamber. He took a deep breath as the guard opened the door.
The throne room was amazing. It arched up to the very height of the palace, with spangled banners hanging from it. The throne of the jester king was of ivory, and placed on a small elevation, three stairsteps high. On it sat Perpentach, smiling to himself. A small table was situated in front of the king, and the tablecloth was in emerald green, with golden snakes brothered onto it.
The room was unnervingly empty. In fact, only one person besides the king and Frill was present; a tall, Balmesque man who Frill recognized as the Mimic captain. He stood perfectly still, not even blinking, hands clenched into fists and his muscular arms down his sides. Perpentach seemed not to notice the man and turned to Frill as he neared the throne.
"I come regarding the magic school, King. The council told me that I was ready but that you wanted to talk to me first?", he asked with more confidence than he felt. Perpentachs face was that of a man who is suddenly reminded of the forgotten coin in his backpocket. A small smile showed.
"Aye, that is true,
you see what I do,
is ask you a riddle now,
and then take your vow,
providing you solve it of course,
if not you will spend your life feeding my horse."
Frill nodded, despite the knowledge that the king had not owned a mount for years. The job sounded boring, but getting access to the mage guild would be worth the risk. He nodded. "I understand, my king."
"Very well then, here we go,
keep your ears peeled though,
I will not repeat and I will not reply,
and you have one and only one try:"
Frill felt a drop of sweat fall run down across his left temple as the king spoke out the riddle:
"Draped in the gown of sorrow I ride,
From my eyes no mortal man can hide,
I have seen the tallest peak and the deepest pit,
And though I do not care one bit for it,
I am often preceded by my dreadful fame,
I ask you now, what is my name?"
Frill concentrated on remembering the riddle, but the presence of the paralyzed mimic and the gaze of the king distracted him. He felt Perpentach easily sink into his mind and reading it as his thoughts formed...
The name of a rider that has crossed the entire world and who cared not for his fame... His dreadful fame, infact. He had to be an evil person... Frill thought of the legend of Rosier the Fallen, but realized that he did not fit the description perfectly well... He remembered Perpentach having used the word "mortal"... perhaps the rider himself was immortal?
Frill thought about the riddle for almost half an hour. In between, he was distracted again as the mimic captain loosened his positure and left Perpentach a short comment before exiting the room: "That concludes my demonstration of the luchuirp battle golems. I hope it can be of some use."
Finally, Frill raised his head to look at the jester. The king was already smiling, surely having read the answer Frill had concluded from his mind. The thought unnerved Frill alot, but he did not let his emotions shake his decision. Sweating heavily now, he looked up at the king and replied: "My name, king of jesters, is Ars."
The king's smile widened. It seemed to Frill like an eternity passed, before the king finally nodded.
"Your answer is right, adept.
know my word will be kept:
Sink to your knees and give me your oath,
and the title of mage is yours to hold."
Frill felt ecstacy overwhelm his mind as he fell to his knees and absent-mindedly gave the king his oath. He was thinking of his future. More than all, he was thinking of how to celebrate the occassion. He would go to the Theatre of Wonders, and then, perhaps later, he would see if he could find Pozzia and pay her for some of her Sundown Weeds, or perhaps just her company for the night....
He felt embarrassed as he realized that he had finished the oath already, and that Perpentach was still reading his mind. But the king seemed to be in a good mood today, because he merely smiled and dismissed Frill with the following words:
"Go and enjoy the lights of Jubilee tonight,
but remember your word in times of fight,
Get some Sundown and laugh or cry,
and if you see Poz, tell her I said hi."
Dazzled, but smiling, Frill left the throne room
