Hi everyone! Hope your classes are all going well. :) Anyways, let's get right on into the story. We have a new POV for this chapter...

*KillerTom's POV*

I ran the course curry comb through a tangled section of Plattypi's dark grey mane as he continued munching on the alfalfa I'd put in the feed bucket attached to the wall. He could care less how rough I was with the tangled mess as long as he got his favorite treat. I finally got that last stubborn tangle out with the thick bristled brush and tossed the loose wad of hair down in the musty straw. I'd be changing the bedding out later today anyways.

Setting the curry comb aside, I rolled the black and blue sleeves of my wizard robes above my grey elbows and picked up the grooming brush to start working on removing the dried mud from his back and withers. Dust could be seen wafting through the air in the sunbeam coming through the east window with each sweep of the brush. The only other sounds in the stable were the happy munching of food and the occasional swish of a tail. "You just had to find the biggest mud hole to roll in after that storm yesterday, didn't you?" I asked the dapple grey stallion before me. He twitched a grey ear at me and continued nosing around his feed bucket for the last scraps of fodder.

As I kept raking clumps of dirt and loose hair off Plattypi, Phil walked out of the stall two down from us with Dovabutt in tow. Grooming his stallion had not taken him very long, since the bay hadn't coated himself in mud. Phil waved as he walked past, smirking at the work I still had ahead of me, and led his horse to the pasture we'd fenced off.

I'd use magic to do this in seconds, but we were trying to conserve our magic after renovating Jordan's Fortress of Fury yesterday. Our magic isn't without limits. I sighed to myself as I continued, sweat beginning to bead on my forehead. I guess I should be thankful I still have a horse to spend time grooming. We never did find Bob after the heroes came to visit. Someone—most likely Tom or Wag—didn't know how to lock a fence gate behind them, and animals had been everywhere the next morning. We'd managed to round up most of the chickens and sheep, though we definitely had fewer cows and pigs after putting everyone back in their pens. We'd found Dovabutt and Plattypi grazing near the meteor west of our home. Matt's bay was nowhere to be found. After the next blood moon, we'd given up hope of ever finding the steed.

Plattypi was nudging me impatiently with his white head and nickering by the time I was satisfied with my work. "All right boy, we're going now. Easy," I laughed as I pulled his lead rope down from its hook outside the stall door and attached it to his halter. I opened the stall and led him outside. It was approaching midday now and looked like it would be a beautiful day. All of the plants were a brighter shade of green after the rain, and the air smelled fresh and clean. I might just take Plattypi for a ride later if he doesn't roll in mud again. We strolled past our two story house and the smeltery to the gap between the mountains to the east of our tower. His hooves clicked against the stone path as we passed the Tower Heart, faintly glowing with its own pearly light. We'd fenced off a large portion of the field beyond the mountains for the horses to roam and graze during the day. We'd bring them back in at nights, tonight especially as it would be a blood moon. I turned my grey and white horse loose and bolted the fence closed. I smiled as he galloped across the field, tossing his head and acting like a colt.

I was looping the lead rope over one of the fence posts when the Tower Heart spoke to me and my brothers—wherever they were, "Wizards, one of the mortals is approaching, and he is bringing someone with him I don't recognize." The feminine voice sounded a little apprehensive, as it always did when mortals were about. I think the Tower Heart inherited a bit of our distrust for mortals and gods when we made it/her. She wouldn't talk at all if gods were nearby.

Well, let's see who it is this time. Now where's my scythe? I mentally took stock of my weapons and spells as I walked back up the path, waving at the Tower Heart as I passed it again. It glowed a bit more brightly in a greeting of its own before I turned back to the task at hand. Those heroes had been known to stir up trouble where there need not be any. I finally recalled that I'd left my scythe by the smeltery; I had planned on upgrading it today. Hopefully, I'll only need it for show, I thought as I walked up the stone steps to the smeltery wing of our home.

I turned the lights on as I closed the glass door behind me. There was my scythe, right where I left it on the workbench by the stone brick wall. I had found the scythe embedded in a king slime we killed months ago. It had been there so long, the metal had been stained a permanent light blue that very nearly matched the trim of my robes. Yes, I had my sword now, but the scythe held too many memories to retire it. I had killed Matt and Phil so many times with this scythe after we discovered we had respawn. I grinned as the fond memories drifted through my mind. Shouldering my scythe, I walked back outside and eyed the cloudless cerulean sky (nudge, nudge, wink, wink), spotting Phil and Matt flying over to join me in front of our startup home.

"Any idea who's coming?" I called from my place on the stone tile walkway as the older of my brothers landed, Phil's metallic gold wings catching sunlight and flaring to slow him as he touched down. He shrugged in response to my question as his wings folded soundlessly to rest behind his back. Matt circled a few times before landing as well, folding his rust red dragon wings behind him.

"I think I saw someone flying over from Syndicate's place," Matt replied coolly as he crossed his arms and looked away from me. We hadn't been on the best of terms lately. "I'm not sure who he would bring with that She hasn't met, though. Maybe that 'Steve' friend he's always talking about?"

"Well, let's learn from past mistakes and not meet them over here by our animals," Phil said while eyeing the pens of livestock next to the stable. "C'mon we'll wait for them above the farm," He added quickly to distract Matt, who had frowned at the reminder of Bob's disappearance. Phil tapped Matt on the shoulder to bring him back to reality before all three of us flew to meet our visitors.

I toyed with the angel ring on my finger as we flew over our uninhabited town, marveling again at the masterful magic that had gone into the designing of the unassuming band. Whoever had first invented the magic for them must have been a genius. First, they allowed anyone to fly; for a wizard the upside to using a ring was not having to spend your own magic on maintaining flight. Second, they seemed to key in on an individual's unique genetics (or other characteristics for all we knew) and made a set of wings specific and fitting to them, most of the time. Some people came out with invisible wings for reasons unknown. I was in the latter group. Most of the time, I forgot they were even there.

We reached the windmills that marked the western boundary of our lands as a voice with a familiar British accent hailed us, "Wizards!" Definitely Tom Syndicate.

We stopped midair and waited for him to approach. "Wizards, we need your help." Syndicate shouted as he drew closer. He stalled a few feet away from us and started hovering in place with his own set of dragon wings. His tone lacked its customary pride and confidence, and he looked like he hadn't slept properly for a day or two. I mean, I know he's a zombie, but he should still take care of himself. His suit that he insisted on wearing whether it was scorching hot or bitter cold looked rumpled, and there were fresh stains on it that looked like dried blood. His eyes had dark rings under them and held a look of barely contained worry. His blue hair was an absolute disaster. "What happened to you?" Phil asked and pointed at the stains and his hair before I could open my mouth to ask him myself.

Syndicate looked down at his clothes and seemed to notice the stains for the first time. "Oh. Uh, rough night. Have any of you seen Wag yesterday or today?" He asked, looking back up at us hopefully.

"No, we haven't seen Wag in weeks," Phil answered. Syndicate's face fell before Phil asked, "Why? What happened?"

"That is what we're trying to find out," A female voice that sounded eerily familiar spoke from behind the zombie. The Dianitee looked over his shoulder before fluttering to one side to reveal the woman who had spoken.

She wore a maroon coat and a black hat with a pink rim over her long, chocolate hair. Her hat was tilted down, hiding her face as she watched something below her with her arms crossed. She flew without an angel ring or wings; so she must be a magic user. When I followed her gaze down past her black boots, I saw a tan doe flying in circles above the rows of wheat, nipping the heads off some of the stalks. They seemed familiar from somewhere, but it didn't click until the woman raised her head to meet my eyes with her own. I saw the red and brown eyes that had easily cowed us in the old world. "Donella!" I gasped, nearly forgetting to keep my invisible wings flapping. Phil and Matt had similar reactions.

Tom Syndicate looked between us in confusion. "Wait, you know each other? And why is Matt afraid of you?" He asked Donella while pointing over his shoulder to where Matt had ducked behind Phil.

"You would be too if you knew she could destroy you!" Matt yelled from behind his human shield.

Phil rolled his eyes under his goggles and elaborated, "Yes, we know each other from the Realm of Mianite. We aren't the only wizards in the world, you know."

As they spoke, Donella studied us, and I studied her. She looked like she had actually aged slightly since we'd last seen her. That's odd; she didn't age any during the centuries we knew her before leaving. I wonder what happened. I also detected Dianite's magic lingering about her, which wasn't all that unusual considering the amount of time she'd spend visiting the nether. But Dianite was dead when we left; he would have had next to no power, unless...

Donella broke our staring contest first to answer the others, "Yes, I know how to end the Fyre wizards if they ever become corrupt or power mad like their predecessor was. So far they have done well avoiding the temptation." Syndicate did not seem to notice Donella's gaze linger on Matt as she said that, but the rest of us did. Finally, someone who agrees with me, I thought to myself. Matt had been a bit obsessed with the spell the Crimson Cult had given him that nearly destroyed us all. I was pretty sure he was still messing around with it when Phil and I weren't watching.

Matt recoiled under her scrutiny. I spoke up quickly before Matt could say something we'd regret, "Why don't we continue this indoors. We obviously have a lot to catch up on, and no offense, Tom, but you look like a gentle breeze could knock you out of the air."

As if on cue, the zombie stifled a yawn behind his hand and admitted, "Why don't we chill in your tavern? I could use a good drink." Donella raised an eyebrow at him but said nothing to gainsay the notion.

"The tavern it is. Right this way," Phil said, taking the lead as we flew back in the direction of our tower. We'd have to give them a proper tour later; we'd been building a lot as the Tower Heart granted us more of our old powers. Half of the town hadn't been here last time Syndicate had visited. We flew over the lifeless farmhouse and the fishery before we reached the back of the Wizardly Tavern and looped around to land in front of the entrance. Tom, Donella, and her familiar were close behind.

Donella caught my eye as the others entered; so I hung back. After the door swung shut behind them, Donella spoke, "Your friend didn't sleep last night or this morning. He'll be next to useless for what we need to do without rest, and there's a lot we have to discuss without mortal ears listening."

"What do you propose?" I asked, curious what she intended.

"Let me see his drink before he gets it." The horror on my face let her know I thought she intended to "handle him" just like she did all the other mortals she encountered. Thankfully, she didn't encounter many. She gave me a scathing look. "No, I'm not going to kill him. He belongs to Dianite, and I don't intend to make enemies so soon after arriving. If you must know, I'm going to put a regeneration spell on his drink that has the wonderful side effect of knocking him out for a few hours. He'll be more useful when he wakes up."

I raised my hands in defeat and walked through the door into the dimly lit tavern. Donella and Akatena followed me inside. We could hear the other three already laughing hysterically at some joke upstairs. I set my scythe on the bar before walking behind it and pulling a few more drinks from the fridge under the counter. It would look strange if I only brought one for Tom and not the others. I lined them up on the bar as I popped the caps off. Donella selected one of the first bottles I'd set down and twirled one hand over it, whispering the spell she had in mind. Her hand glowed yellow briefly, shortly followed by the bottle; the glow dissipated from both as she withdrew her hand.

"That should do the trick. Shall we?" Donella waved her hand at the staircase. I was too concerned about my own safety to protest. We walked up the stairs to join Tom and my brothers at the VIP table in the far corner.

I smiled in response to the chorus of semi-drunk hellos that greeted us as we crossed the carpeted room. How many have they already had? We were only a few minutes behind them. I handed out the refills—making sure the ruffled Dianitee got his drink—and took my chair. Donella slid into a chair near the entrance to the VIP area. I refrained from more than sipping at my beer. Since we'd lost our powers, we'd quickly discovered that the immunity we'd had to hangovers had disappeared too. I really didn't like hangovers. My brothers did not seem dissuaded though.

I watched Syndicate pause his laughter to tilt his new bottle back and chug nearly half of it in one go. I hope whatever Donella spiked his drink with isn't too potent. A few minutes had passed when Tom stopped in the middle of a story he'd been telling about pranking Jericho and had a confused look on his face. A second later his eyes rolled back in his head, and his face fell to the table with a thud. Matt laughed like it was the funniest thing he'd ever seen; Phil looked at the unconscious zombie with concern.

"Well, now that the children are asleep, the adults can talk," I said with a sigh. "Matt, could you put Tom to bed in one of the spare rooms?"

"Sure," Matt replied, still grinning like an idiot. He carefully picked up Syndicate and slung him over one shoulder before heading back down the stairs.

"So, Donella, what brings you to the world of Ruxomar?" Phil asked, sounding much more sober than he had a few minutes ago.

"An unsanctioned rescue operation," Donella stated dryly. She then looked between us with disapproval and asked us a question that stung, "What happened to your apprentices, and why haven't you looked for them?"

"We did go looking for them, but we'd lost our powers when the Tower Heart failed. Matt barely had any energy without his magic, and it took a long time for us to get back on our feet. It took us a few days to gather enough armor and weapons to not get killed the instant the sun set. The apprentices we did find when we went looking weren't alive. The direction they'd evacuated in had become plagued by Taint. It's a blight that poisons the land as well as any creature that wanders too close to it," I elaborated, knowing Donella was new to Ruxomar. "We couldn't search very thoroughly because of it; plus the bodies were already covered in the stuff. We couldn't identify anyone, but the shape of wizard robes was unmistakable. Taint can eat through solid stone in a matter of days; so you can imagine we wouldn't expect to find much after that initial discovery."

"As it is, we got killed a couple of times trying to search the area for any further sign of them," Phil chimed in, trying to help.

"Wait, you were killed?" Donella asked, incredulous.

"We somehow have respawn. I'm pretty sure Waglington does too." Wizards never had respawn, in this world or any of the others we had visited. It was usually something only a few mortals were gifted with. The gods couldn't give it, though they could tell who had it. It helped a lot in their choosing champions; the gods didn't want someone who would be gone after the first time they made a mistake. It was widely believed that those with respawn were given it by some power higher than the gods for a specific purpose. It was a topic of endless debate and speculation among wizards at the college.

Donella was just as surprised by this revelation as we were the first time Matt died. He had been sniped off the roof of our half-built house by a skeleton the same day we woke up without our powers. His crumpled body had disappeared before Phil or I could reach him. He had come walking out of the ruins of our tower a few minutes later unharmed, though very tired.

Matt saved us from the unsettling silence that followed by returning. "Tom's tucked away where he can rest." He still seemed abnormally cheery, considering Donella was in the seat next to his. "So, who drugged him? He usually holds his alcohol pretty well, even if it is wizard brew."

"That would be me," Donella admitted with a grin. "If there's one thing I know about mortals who follow Dianite, it's that they can be just as stubborn as their lord. Admitting weakness isn't something they do, even if it's as human as the need for sleep. He would have kept going until he flew himself into a tree."

"Why was he so tired anyways?" Phil asked as he lifted his goggles to rest on his forehead, revealing his glowing green eyes.

"And why is he looking for Wag? Did something happen?" Matt added.

Donella looked at each of us in turn with an expression I couldn't quite make out. I'll ask Phil later; he's better at reading people. She folded her hands before her and said, "Let me tell you what Tom told me on the way over here."

The wizards are here! :D The heroes have called in the cavalry. Surely with all the extra eyes they'll be able to find Wag, right?

KillerTom mentioned something interesting. I wonder how many people caught it and realized what's coming? *Tries to contain evil laughter* >:)