The Palace District of the Capital did not believe in subtlety.

  It believed in gold.

  Elias walked down the main thoroughfare, squinting against the glare. The street was paved with gold bricks. The trees were painted gold. Even the mana lamps were shaped like little crowns, glowing with a smug, yellow light.

  "Inefficient," Elias noted, tapping a paving stone with his staff. "Gold is a soft metal. It has the structural integrity of pudding. If a dragon landed here, it would sink."

  He remembered the Third Era palaces. They were made of granite and humility. They did not scream at passing airships.

  Next to him, Rylus was hyperventilating.

  The Knight was walking toward the King's house wearing a stolen cloak over dented armor, looking like a fugitive who had lost a fight with a laundry machine.

  "We are going to be executed," Rylus whispered, his eyes darting around. "They will put my head on a spike. It will be a very shiny spike."

  "They will not," Elias said. "We are simply filing a noise complaint. And retrieving my tea."

  "Sir," Rylus hissed. "You do not 'file a complaint' with the High King. You petition. You grovel. You do not just walk up to the—"

  "Halt!"

  A booming voice cut him off.

  They had reached the Palace Gates.

  It wasn't a gate of iron or wood. It was a solid wall of golden light, humming with high-voltage mana. Standing in front of it were four Royal Mage-Knights

  Entity:Level:Threat:

  Shiny but Stupid

  "State your business!" the Captain barked, leveling his glowing halberd at Elias’s nose.

  Elias looked at the barrier. He looked at the guard.

  "I am here to retrieve my property," Elias said calmly. "And to discuss the noise ordinance violations of the Mage Council."

  The Captain blinked inside his helmet. "Do you have an appointment?"

  "I built the appointment book," Elias said.

  "No appointment, no entry!" the Captain shouted. "Begone, beggar! Before we vaporize you!"

  Elias sighed.

  He hated rude doormen.

  "I will not be vaporized," Elias said. "I will come in."

  He reached out. He decided to knock. Just a polite rap on the door to announce his presence.

  Elias thought.

  He raised his knuckles. He focused on the concept of .

  "[Knock]," he whispered.

  He rapped his knuckles against the air.

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  He didn't forget that he was Void-Touched. He forgot that his 'knuckles' were currently resonating with the frequency of a collapsing star.

  The spell didn't interpret "Knock" as a sound. It interpreted it as a Command to Open

  And it applied that command to the concept of "Barriers" in a one-mile radius.

  KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK.

  The sound was deafening. It wasn't a tap. It was the sound of a giant's fist hitting the world.

  The golden light barrier didn't shatter. It . It rolled back like a banana skin, folding neatly into the ground.

  But the spell didn't stop there.

  WHAM.

  Behind the guards, the massive oak doors of the Palace slammed open.

  WHAM-WHAM-WHAM.

  Inside the palace, windows flew open. Cupboard doors burst off their hinges. The Royal Vault unlocked itself. The dungeon cages sprang open. The King’s bathroom door swung wide (revealing a very surprised chambermaid).

  A thousand doors opened at once. The sound was like a thunderclap of hospitality.

  The Mage-Knights were blown off their feet by the sheer air pressure of the opening doors. They landed in a heap of golden armor.

  Elias lowered his hand.

  "That," Elias noted, "was unlocked."

  Rylus was standing with his mouth open. "You... you opened everything. Sir, you just unlocked the entire government."

  "It was a very persuasive knock," Elias said.

  He stepped over the groaning guards.

  "Come, Rylus. We are late."

  They walked through the open gates and into the Inner Courtyard.

  Elias stopped.

  He remembered this place. In 990, it had been the Garden of Silence

  Arion had named the tree 'Woody'. Arion was a genius mage, but he had the naming sense of a toddler.

  Elias looked around.

  The garden was gone.

  The Weirwood was gone.

  The courtyard was paved with black asphalt. Painted lines marked spots for luxury carriages.

  ROYAL CARRIAGE PARKING ONLY.

  "They paved it," Elias whispered.

  He walked to the center of the lot. There, poking out of the asphalt like a broken bone, was a gray, dead stump.

  Elias knelt. He touched the wood. It was rot-soft and cold.

  'They paved paradise to put up a parking lot. They killed Woody. They didn't even dig him up. They just poured tar over him.'

  Elias felt a hot, stinging pressure behind his eyes. It wasn't the wind.

  He kept his hand on the stump. He remembered Arion watering it.

  Now, it shaded nothing. It was just a bump in the road.

  "Sir?" Rylus asked softly. He put a hand on Elias’s shoulder. "Are you okay?"

  Elias took a shaky breath. He stood up. He brushed the asphalt dust from his knees.

  "They killed Woody," Elias said, his voice thick.

  Rylus looked around, confused. "Who is Woody? A spy?"

  "A friend," Elias said. "A very quiet friend."

  He turned toward the Palace doors. His eyes were not glowing blue anymore. They were glowing white.

  "They have disrespected the gardener," Elias said. "Now, they deal with the landlord."

  The Council Chamber was at the end of the Grand Hall. The doors, naturally, were already open.

  Elias walked down the hall. Servants fled from him. Guards dropped their weapons and ran. Unit 74 buzzed angrily at his shoulder, sensing his mood.

  They reached the chamber.

  Inside, chaos was reigning.

  The Council of MagesArchbishop

  "It is a Demon!" the High Mage shouted, slamming his hand on the table. "He unlocked the heavy containment unit! The slimes are loose!"

  "It is Divine Punishment!" the Archbishop roared back. "We have sinned! The doors of judgment are open!"

  "Shut up!"

  "You shut up!"

  Elias stepped into the room.

  His footsteps made no sound, but the temperature dropped ten degrees.

  "Excuse me," Elias said.

  The room froze.

  The High Mage turned. The Archbishop turned.

  They saw a pale man in a dusty black suit. They saw a battered Knight. They saw a metal sphere humming with ancient malice.

  "Who..." the High Mage whispered. "Who are you?"

  Elias walked to the head of the table. The High Mage scrambled out of the chair, terrified.

  Elias looked at the chair. It was the same chair Arion used to sit in. It had been reupholstered in tacky velvet, but it was the same chair.

  Elias sat down.

  He rested his hands on the table. He looked at the Council. He looked at the Archbishop.

  "I am not a demon," Elias said quietly. "I am a Librarian."

  He leaned forward. The air crackled with Void Mana.

  "And you," Elias said, "are sitting in my chair."

  The Archbishop began to pray. The High Mage looked like he was trying to remember a banishment spell (and failing).

  Elias tapped the table with one finger.

  "Now," Elias said. "Before I evict you all... I have one question."

  The room held its breath.

  "Who," Elias whispered, "drank the Earl Grey?"

  Status UpdateMana Consumed:Current Mood:Rylus Loyalty:Doors Open:Reputation:

  "The Knocker" (Palace Security Nightmare)