Hazelmere and Mizette talked for a long time. They had a lovely heart to heart moment, until …


    “You’ll do what?”


    Mizette’s roar was so loud, Hazelmere thought everyone in the camp had heard her.


    “Calm down, calm down.”


    “Are you insane?”


    “It can’t be that dangerous. Heartwell got back.”


    “Yes, he got back half-dead!”


    “I won’t go to the portal itself. I will turn around the moment I start feeling my energy draining.”


    “Speaking of Heartwell, why not send him? He already has experience with it.”


    “No, I have to do this myself. I am the one who ruined everything, so it is up to me to fix it. I must take responsibility if I am to be a leader.”


    “Oh, come on! We see the leaders of all sorts avoiding the responsibility all the time!”


    “Well, I am not going to be one of them! Someone has to deliver those books, and I can’t ask others to risk their lives for my stupid mistakes! Not anymore!”


    “What do you mean, not anymore?”


    “I … I don’t want …”


    Hazelmere let out a labored sigh.


    “I don’t think I’m cut out to be a leader. I don’t have what it takes to just send people into danger. Not anymore. I had it when I’ve sent Peratha’s party into the ruins, and look what happened! I don’t want to repeat the same mistake! And I certainly don’t want to become the kind of person who sees sending people to their deaths as something natural.”


    “But, that is what being a commander is all about!”


    “And that’s exactly what I’ve said! I don’t think I have it in me.”


    “Listen,” Mizette moved in her chair to sit face to face with Hazelmere, “you just aren’t used to being in command, that’s all.”


    “Well, that is the thing. I don’t want to get used to it! I have tried it, and it sucks!”


    “Miss Hazelmere, you aren’t a little girl anymore! Now that you finally have some real responsibilities, you don’t get to shove them away just because you don’t like them!”


    “I’m not! Quite the contrary! Maybe you weren’t listening when I said that I will take responsibility for my stupidity! I am not abandoning my position as a commander. I just doubt that I’m the right person for the job. So, if I have no choice but to be a leader, then I will either lead on my own terms or won’t lead at all!”


    “That …” Mizette started scratching her chin idly, “that actually sounds like something a true leader would say.”


    “The point being, I am not good with ordering others to do my bidding. I was never meant to do that. I was never trained for it. So, I will lead the only way I know, by doing things myself.”


    “But that is not what the leaders should do! You can’t do everything yourself! That is why the rest of us are here!”


    “I know, I didn’t mean it like that. What I mean is, I refuse to push my mistakes and responsibilities on the others, like the other leaders do.”


    Mizette laughed while shaking her head.


    “What?”


    “Nothing, nothing. Now you’re starting to sound like Heartwell, that’s all. Although he is much more practical about it. He says practicality comes with experience.”


    “Are you telling me I sound like a peasant?”


    “Yes! It certainly looks like you have started developing a peasant’s mindset.”


    ---


    Hazelmere spent the rest of the day organizing her excursion to the frozen wasteland, talking with everyone relevant in the camp, making sure everyone knows what to do while she’s gone.


    Especially if it turns out she’ll be gone for good.


    Many people agreed they should return the goodwill the demons have shown but disagreed with the method. They tried dissuading her from doing it herself. Despite it, Hazelmere remained steadfast in her decision. The only person who gave her any sort of encouragement was Heartwell. While talking to him, Hazelmere couldn’t help but think that the expression he had on his face was a peasant’s expression of pride.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    The next day, early in the morning, everyone helped Hazelmere prepare for the grueling trip. As a host of people ran around her, each of them trying to give her advice, she heard something heavy fall on the ground next to her. Turning around, she saw Heartwell standing next to a heap of furs.


    She looked at the furs, then at him, then back at the furs once again.


    Finally, it dawned on her.


    “Do you expect me to carry all of that? Together with the books?”


    “You won’t survive otherwise.”


    “With those on top of me, I will die before I ever start feeling cold! I am a delicate mage, not a warrior!”


    “Then, send someone else. There’s no way you’ll get anywhere near the portal without these,” Hartwell said as he patted the big furry heap.


    “I can help with that,” Cybil said, “I will be back! Don’t go anywhere until I return!”


    Heartwell waited for Cybil to get out of the earshot before speaking: “What, she has some sort of harness?”


    “I am not a mule!” Hazelmere responded, with an edge in her voice.


    “Hmm, speaking of harnesses and mules,” Mizette mused, “have we tried approaching the portal with one of those? Why haven’t we tried sending someone on a mule while being covered in the thickest furs possible? Surly, a mule can carry more furs than we can.”


    “I’ve tried that once …” Heartwell stopped for a moment, shooting a quick glance at Hazelmere, “once we’ve … before I set out to place that sound gathering thing. Animals refuse to go anywhere near the cold. As soon as they feel it, they start running back. They pay no attention to their rider’s commands.”


    “Why haven’t you told me that before?” Hazelmere asked.


    “I didn’t think it was relevant.”


    “I would appreciate it if you would tell me such things in the future. Everything you learn about the portal or the cold.”


    “I will do that the next time I learn anything.”


    After some more time spent in idle conversation, Cybil got back.


    “Well, that took you long enough!” Hazelmere teased. Then, she realized there’s a cup in Cybil’s hands, “What is that?”


    “It took some time to prepare the ingredients. Here, drink this,” Cybil said as she offered the cup to Hazelmere.


    It looked like a thick dirt soup, with occasional chunks of something unidentifiable floating in it.


    “It reeks!”


    “Of course it does! It is a potent magical mixture, not a candy!”


    “There’s no way I’m drinking that. It stinks!”


    “You must drink this for the spell to have an effect!”


    “What spell?”


    “Maybe you have forgotten, but I am an enhancer! I will cast a spell that will give you greater strength and endurance. It is a powerful spell, so it won’t work unless you drink this!”


    “That makes sense,” Mizette agreed.


    “No, that’s … why can’t you just cast a regular spell on me, like every other enhancer does?” Hazelmere asked.


    “Because,” Cybil leaned in, getting in Hazelmere’s face, “I am combining several spells into one! If I cast a regular spell on you, you will use it up quickly. This way, you will get both strength and endurance, and it will last until the next morning! You won’t have to worry about the spell faltering at the worst time possible. And, as an added benefit, your body won’t suffer any consequences for overexerting itself once the spell is gone.”


    Hazelmere still hesitated, so Mizette decided to give her some words of encouragement:


    “Oh, come on! It won’t be the dirtiest thing you’ve put in your mouth!”


    The reactions to Mizette’s words were immediate. Servants faced away, doing their best to control their laughter, while the mages didn’t bother controlling anything.


    “Whoa! Whoa! Nail you, Mizette, I almost spilled the entire thing!” Cybil complained, “Do you have any idea how expensive these ingredients are?”


    Mizette was too busy observing Hazelmere’s reaction to notice Cybil complaining, and it certainly wasn’t the one she was expecting. Instead of responding with an offended outburst, Hazelmere got lost in thought. She looked as if she was considering something.


    “Listen, Hazelmere,” Mizette said, “Heartwell is right. You won’t get far without those furs, and you can’t carry those furs without Cybil’s spell. So, you will have to either let someone else do it or drink this stinky juice Cybil is offering you. There is no third option. And I don’t think there is a reason to worry about Cybil trying to set you up. She may be petty, and she definitely hates you, but she is not a murderer.”


    Hazelmere eyed the cup and its repulsive contents for some time before tearing it out of Cybil’s hands. She started pouring the contents down her throat with a disgusted grimace on her face. With each gulp, her grimace got worse.


    But she persevered, managing to gulp it all down.


    “Bwwaaaahhhhh! It’s disgusting!”


    “I will start casting the spell now. Hold still!” Cybil got to work as soon as she saw the cup was empty.


    “Is she supposed to glow like that?” Heartwell asked.


    “Yes, that means the spell works,” Mizette was the one to respond, as Cybil was too busy.


    It didn’t take long for Cybil to finish. As soon as she has finished casting the spell, Hazelmere stopped glowing.


    “Is that all?” Hazelmere asked.


    “Have you forgotten that I am an archmage? I know how to speed up the process. More importantly, let us see if it works. Try lifting Mizette up.”


    Hazelmere eyes Mizette skeptically: “You think it will work?”


    “Well, that is the point! To see if it works!”


    “All right, all right … umm, how am I supposed to do that?”


    “Grab her lower thighs and try lifting her up,” Heartwell offered, “and Mizette, lean onto her, so you don’t fall on your back.”


    “Ok, let’s try.”


    “Whoa! It works!”


    “Now, you should have no issues carrying those furs with you. And, you also don’t have to worry about fatigue,” Cybil stated.


    “Cybil …”


    “Yes, what is it?”


    Hazelmere suddenly lifted Cybil up in the air.


    “Thanks!”


    “What the … put me down, you goblin!”


    “I just want to show my appreciation!”


    “You are welcome, now put me down! Just because you have the strength, that doesn’t mean you know how to control it!”


    Hazelmere obliged, with a smile on her face.


    “And one more thing!” Cybil said while pointing the finger at her, “You are stronger and more durable now, but that doesn’t mean your strength and endurance have no limits! Don’t overestimate your new capabilities!”


    “Cybil … there is one more thing I want to ask from you.”


    “What is it?” Cybil lifted her nose up in a fake display of irritation.


    “If I don’t return, you are to be the next royal archmage.”


    “That’s … that’s not how it works!”


    “Someone will have to manage things until a proper replacement is chosen. I want you to act as the royal archmage in the meantime. I want you to promise me that, in front of these witnesses.”


    Cybil stared at Hazelmere for a moment with her mouth open: “What are you talking about, of course you’ll come back! You are not going to fight monsters, you are just going to deliver some books! Now go! The sooner you go, the sooner you will return.”


    Hazelmere grabbed both of her hands as if her life depended on it: “I want you to promise me!”


    “Fine, I promise! Now go!”


    “Blushing, blushing!” Mizette teased.