I found myself standing before the king, explaining the situation. My heart was heavy with the news I was about to impart.

“Your majesty, as your majordomo, it is my duty to report a crime perpetuated by one of your advisors. The prized Oracle Medallion, which was to be covered in gold and protected from abuse by any human by a law enacted generations ago, has not been so protected. The outer layer was never placed on the medallion, meaning the Wizard of the time and all his successors have had free access to listen – no, to spy – on conversations all over the kingdom. I am not sure what limits the medallion may or may not have. The crime was recently discovered when we found correspondence between the Wizard and the court of Britain about actually selling them a duplicate of our national treasure.”

The king’s countenance grew dark, and he ordered his guards to bring in the Wizard. As I glanced at the tall figure being led into the throne room in chains, I noticed something astonishing — the man’s features shifted! He looked like himself, then one of the guards, and then even me! Angrily I strode over to the traitor and demanded, “Where have you promised to sell these fakes, these duplicates? To whom have you promised power that should not lay in mortal hands?”

The Wizard stood there and laughed. The king’s countenance grew darker, and he looked about to strike the criminal. Yet, before the king could approach the Wizard, I found myself becoming overwhelmingly angry, almost to the point of unreason.

“How many did you sell? Out with it! Speak, betrayer!”

“Why should I tell you,” scoffed the man. Well, I thought he was a man. Disconcertingly, he still held my visage as he glared back at me.

Angrily I threw him to the floor. I felt my anger rising and came close to beating his prone body, but forced myself to stop and step backwards. It would do no good to drive myself to the level of a thief and abuser of power. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and turned back to the king.

…and then the alarm woke me.

About Cyndilou

Just a diva dilettante who sings, knits, crochets, dances, takes photos, and generally has a good time while she tries to figure out what she wants to be when she retires from her technogeek job.
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