A Tower

Margaret had been exiled from the Franco College of Magic a long time ago. Her hair had gone silver in that time.

Ever since she had lived in a lonely tower in the mountains. Technically she was a vassal of Duc Levis. She owed him tax and tribute. The illegal use of magic and healing, but he largely left her alone until needed.

She sat in her tower thumbing through a tome when her console beeped. She may be isolated, but she kept up to date. Internet and a computer had been a gift from the Duc after a particularly embarrassing scandal.

Margaret slid over. Outside the tower, thunder crashed. The forecasted storm had arrived. The tower apartment was warm and homey. A decade here had turned an exile’s dungeon into a home.

She answered the video call.

Her acquaintance, Zelda, appeared. A blonde-haired girl calling from all the way across the continent in the Western Underground. A young apprentice in the magic college there. An entire District dedicated to magic. An entire underground city… that was a thought.

More thunder rumbled.

“Marg! I found it!”

“Found what?”

“I found what the Magus has been hiding. What all of them have been hiding! What they all refuse to show us!”

“Breathe girl!” chuckled Margaret. Zelda was thirty years her junior, but the young mage was a dear friend and a useful contact. “Tell Mama Marg what’s got you in a fix?”

The girl breathed. “I talked to a few other known radicals and a few other…” the girl caught herself and blushed.

“Exiles,” said Margaret. There’s no denying what I am.

“Yeah,” she squeaked. “And I found it!”

“What?”

“Information on Demonology! I knew they were hiding it!”

Lightning flashed through the window.

#

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