The mystery visitor rode a purple wyvern - an old, wiry creature with curling horns like a ram. They circled the island twice at a cautious distance before they finally came into the land. They picked a spot in front of the temple and came in without much grace. The wyvern’s wings beat the air frantically as it tried to keep itself steady, whipping dust into a miniature storm. As it got near the ground, the wyvern tilted unsteadily to one side. When it finally made contact, its legs slid out from under its body, and came to rest on its side with a heavy thump and an angry squawk.


    It seemed as if the rider might’ve been squashed beneath the wyvern’s bulk. I moved closer, grimly prepared to find a smashed lump of meat. My very first visitor (Cixilo didn’t really count) and they’d gone and died upon arrival.


    What’s happening? Endizar demanded telepathically.


    This is rather frustrating. I’d like to know too, Cixilo said.


    I’d sent the two of them to hide in the core antechamber. If the visitor turned out to be hostile, it seemed a good idea to keep the fact I had two helpers hidden for now. The mortal seems to have been crushed by its own mount … wait… I trailed off.


    The mortal wasn’t dead! He emerged from the lingering dust cloud a few feet from the wyvern, coughing into his fist. “You almost killed me,” he said.


    The wyvern only gave a grumble. It seemed unharmed and content to stay where it was for now.


    I inspected the visitor. He straightened his simple tunic, and scrubbed absently at a streak of dirt, while he continued to glare at the wyvern. He was thin and tall, with dark hair that was tied back in a ponytail. Almost human, but the point of his ears and violet eyes suggested something else in his ancestry. Combined with the sharp angles of his face and complete lack of a beard or stubble, I thought he might be part Eld. Dwarrow wasn’t out of the question either though.


    The visitor lives.


    Who is he? What class? Cixilo asked.


    Is he an enemy? Endizar said, his voice tinged with a surprising amount of aggression. So far he’d hardly shown any emotions.


    I don’t know yet. Either of those things. He couldn’t be a tank, he simply didn’t wear enough armour and there was nowhere to stash that sort of stuff in the wyvern’s saddlebags. However, I was clueless beyond that. Insight would’ve been useful here, but I simply didn’t have the spare skill picks right now.


    The visitor pulled a small, round stone out of his pocket and looked at it carefully. I peaked at it over his shoulder, but nothing about it seemed remarkable. Then he stashed it away again, gave the wyvern a final glare that turned into a disappointed sigh, and started to walk towards the temple.


    Show me, Cixilo said


    How?


    The same way you send System messages. Just push what you’re seeing down the connection.


    It was disconcerting at first. For a moment, I could see two copies of everything. The second false version faded away, and it must have worked because Cixilo sent back the impression of a thumbs up.


    Definitely some sort of mage. He doesn’t have any weapons on him, Cixilo said. An Eld? No, a half-Eld I suspect. Too much muscle mass, must be some human or Dwarrow in there too.


    He could be hiding weapons, I said. But Cixilo was right. I couldn’t see where he could hide anything, maybe a dagger in his boot at best.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    The man climbed up the stairs to the temple. He stopped at the summit, and silently mouthed words that seemed well rehearsed, the shape of them so familiar that reciting them had become more habit than choice. Finished with his prayer, he pushed ajar one of the huge double doors and slipped through the gap.


    I followed closely behind as he stopped and craned his neck to take in the expanse of the dome far above. To tiny mortals, it had to be an impressive sight. I’d restored the temple to the glory of its youth - mosaics shining with bright colours and the stonework like it had been carved yesterday. I hadn’t done anything about the missing furniture yet, leaving the room vast and empty.


    He checked the small, smooth stone again and moved on.


    I wonder what that is, Cixilo said.


    Some sort of good luck charm? No matter how closely I tried to observe the stone, it just looked like a mundane rock.


    It could be a fairy egg. In which case, he’ll be able to report back to whoever sent him.


    Fairies lay eggs? I couldn’t picture the creatures I’d seen in the past laying anything that big. They were so small. How did they… I didn’t want to think about it. Fleshy creatures were disgusting.


    Cixilo laughed. They’re not literally eggs laid by fairies. It''s just a name for an enchanted stone that fairies make. They often contain spells to talk across long distances.


    That''s a relief. The not laying part, that is.


    Hey, where’s he going?


    I directed my attention back to the man. He’d crossed the temple and was slipping out the second set of doors.


    I shot across the temple in pursuit, but by the time I’d made it out of the doors, he’d disappeared. The slippery little thing. I checked inside the first room of my dungeon, but my minions were undisturbed. Which meant he was running around somewhere outside.


    I take it back, I already hate adventurers. Why can’t they do the dungeon in the proper way? I raised my vision up above the building and gazed down in search of the man. Where could he have gone? There weren’t many places for a mortal to hide.


    There. By the greenhouse, Cixilo said.


    I narrowed my vision on the greenhouse. He was right, the mortal was standing in the corner where the greenhouse met the stonewall of the manor, with the fairy egg in his hand. I moved down and got in close.


    The man talking to the egg.


    “Who is this?” A disembodied voice snapped from within the stone.


    “Ario -”


    “Ario who? What do you want?”


    Ario’s brows furrowed. “I need to speak to Commander Iroxi.”


    “Iroxi is in a meeting right now.”


    Ario rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “What about Dread Lord Naya?”


    Crap, Cixilo muttered quietly in the back of my mind.


    “You want me to disturb Dread Lord Naya?” The voice scoffed with a tone that implied the idea was as absurd as fairies laying eggs. “Not a chance. I will tell Commander Iroxi you called.”


    Mizar, this is bad. He works for Dread Lord Naya. If he tells her where you are… Cixilo’s tone rapidly rose towards panic.


    I get the idea.


    Ario fidgetted, his lips pursed and his spare hand curling. He seemed reluctant, like the next words out of his mouth were painful. “Look, I found the dungeon. It is urgent. He’ll have my hide if he finds out I didn’t tell him at once.”


    I zoomed up to the roof of the manor, where I’d placed the gargoyles the other day. As luck would have it, Ario had stopped to make his call right below one of the looming statues. I looked down at the man. It wasn’t his fault but I couldn’t let the Dread Lords find out. If Cixilo was right and they were as bad as they sounded, they’d shatter me or worse.


    I dissolved the wedge holding up the gargoyle. The statue slid forward, right to the edge of the roof, and when it ran out of roof and gravity took hold, it tumbled over the edge.


    After a moment that stretched on for too long, there was a scream and a heavy thunk.


    Problem solved. It didn’t make me feel very happy though.


    I peaked over the edge.


    Nope. I don’t need to see that. The telepathic connection with Cixilo closed abruptly.


    A moment later, Endizar appeared with a pop next to the gargoyle - or what remained of him, anyway. The gargoyle had broken in half when it hit the ground. He looked down at the man with a furrowed brow. “I didn’t know mortals looked like that inside.”


    Gross is what that is. Gross, I said. Find the fairy egg, would you? I’ll go check the hearth to see if he’s been resurrected yet.