I watched Greybeard's face; his eyes are those of a man in agony. He isn't the only one; he knows our problems have just grown larger. We have managed to hold back the invasion of the elven mindset in the cities dominated by the Whitecloaks. The Redcloaks don't care about their people, but we do. That is the source of my friend's pain. He has become my friend after these years working behind enemy lines—though, are they even enemy lines anymore? I don't think that term applies. We are enemies to everyone now, and he is genuinely distraught over the loss of Lilith.
I don't know what to think. Even though the Queen of the Succubi has worked hard to prove that the Black Forest—I differ from those who call it the Dark Forest, as a true forest of trees originally bearing that name surrounds nearly the entire coastline of the continent—can operate without hindering those of us who seek peace, my companion's feeling is something more than mere concern. I don't know if he desires her or loves her, but it is unseemly. He cannot explain anything to me. I've spent ten minutes watching him tell me his plans—many of which I had no knowledge of—so I let him speak. But he has begun to repeat himself, so I ask him to calm down. Not as a friend, but as his superior. He obeys.
I leave him be while I check the map. This map, much like the mirrors, is prepared so that anything noted on a similar map is reflected here. He has already shown me how his troops are organized; they are a highly disciplined group. I wish my people in Stormhammer had that level of efficiency. People from villages who sought refuge are trained to improve their harvests, their farming methods, and their combat skills. If what he tells me is true, some of these peasants have faced soldiers or mercenaries and made them run! Such an achievement would not be possible in my city.
The troops and the magical races taking refuge there are treated with respect and equality. Similar to what I recently did to keep the influence of the High Elves out of here, I designed many magical filters, but she had already prepared something similar. Hers is more advanced than what I devised, and cruel to those who violate her commandments. She banished large numbers of Orcs to the plains; they go marked on their faces and bodies. As Greybeard warned me, they are lethal and driven mad. Up to that point, I believe she is very capable. However, the other matter... the capture of Lilith... that I do not understand.
When my former secretary departed, he was very proud of his power, of his ability to attract the most impressionable. Those are exactly the kind of sorcerers I do not want in my order. None of them sought to do good for their society; they wanted power for themselves. It's much like what happened with my former secretary's son: great power, little knowledge. That is why I never let them rise above my floor—not where I keep all the magical items and books I have written. Few mages are allowed here. Greybeard was here before, when he came for the magic Lilith requested. Is she capable of achieving what she seeks?
Just after my conversation with Greybeard, a pair of teenagers came to leave a letter on the outskirts of the city. They were asking for a specific book. Normally, no one would bring such a request to my tower, but for some reason, the guards came very willingly. They looked a bit embarrassed, but they still brought the request and took the book that was asked for. I cannot tell my friend this; it would be betraying the agreement I have with the Queen of the Fortress. Besides, even if it isn't "wrong," it reeks as if it were... I cannot believe that woman would send children on such a dangerous errand!
I still have the letter in my hand. The lines written there can only be seen by me, though I haven't discovered how they managed that:
"Thank you, Master of the White Tower.
I have finally finished the enchantments we were missing. I know you are aware of the Blackcloaks' weakness, but you seek for them to find and resolve it themselves. I do not. I want them to help the community. We cannot allow more sorcerers to join the Elves across the seas. That is why I ask you—without letting that great mage who now accompanies me find out—to send with these youths a copy of 'Dreams and Appearances,' the one you wrote in your youth. Do not worry; I do not know its contents. My Lord directed me to it; he says the way is in there, that the answer lies within those pages to train humans, no matter which faction they answer to.
I probably will not live to thank you for this volume, but you must know that I will be deeply grateful for keeping this a secret. Greybeard loves me, in his way, and I am fond of him. But I am not alive for matters of love, but rather to bring peace and justice to Greenleaf. If I live, I may be at his side.
Yours in this training,
Lilith."
I still hear my friend sobbing. He speaks brokenly about search and destroy missions, about risks we must face. But we are not the only ones involved. If he goes, the whole charade will be uncovered. If I go, I will be taken prisoner by the Elves—even if I kill thousands in the process. I know they are strong, though they do not know how strong I am. No, this must be subtle. So, I ask him for patience. I tell him to come to Stormhammer; here, I will give him an object that no one from Midnight Crow will be able to refuse. Then, and only then, will he make the decision to rescue her—or to kill her, if he does not like what he sees.