After a day of working in the mine, Enim was glad to leave his traption alone in the dark, allowing himself to reemerge back out into open air and a sundown sky of rose and amber. A soft breeze drifted down from the highlands, carrying a scent of herbs and wildflowers. Stretching luxuriously, Enim looked out over the tangled roofs and lanes of Shebbetin, of the Mansion slowly getting ready for the night. He began to hum lightly. He was going to dedicate the evening to pleasure and joy, he decided, and began trying out various images in his mind as to what exactly that might entail. Maybe he would—

An ear-splitting scream cut through the air. Thunder exploded in its wake, with hollow echoes reverberating through the mountains.

Enim crouched down on the ground, looking around frantically.

He saw the nightling first, a large black shadow swooping and diving over the valley.

But then came the magic.

On the opposite hillside, a white-haired figure in swirling robes was bathed in a surreal bluish light, floating upward into the sky.

The nightling turned and attacked, giving another unbearable scream as she charged straight at the mage. His staff shot fire, a red-golden stream of lava enveloping the nightling, mangling her cry, letting her voice die in a strangled sizzle. She dropped halfway down to the ground but then took up again, wings beating heavily, menacingly. The huge being gained height as the mage chanted incantations in a deep, ancient voice, loud as a bronze gong, strong enough to carry all the way across the valley. The alien gleam surrounding his body grew brighter, clear and cold as starlight.

The nightling charged again. With a terrible scream, she threw herself at the mage but was met with a flame so large and overpowering that she completely disappeared within it. A whining, painfully cringing sound filled the air as the flame died down. The ghost of a nightling was visible in the sky, a glowing outline, a trace of embers that slowly drifted down while parts fell off and the whole body disintegrated into sparks, into ash, into nothingness.

Silence reigned.

The wizard floated in the air, a softened white light surrounding him. The breeze touched his hair, let his gray beard and his billowing robes move in the evening sky. Slowly, the wizard descended. His light flowed out, glowing a gentle silver on the meadow, then disappeared.

Enim stared on into the darkness. He could not see into the empty blackness that had now swallowed the hillside. The deafening silence rang on in his ears.

Enim waited.

Nothing more came.

*

Enim reached the Snuggery in a dazed state.

Of course, news of the magical combat, of the shining wizard and the vanquished nightling, had gotten there before him. The battle had been loud enough to be heard all over Shebbetin. It had been visible enough too. That particular part of the hill could be seen from most places in the valley, and the floating wizard from practically everywhere.

Lasa, Lunin and a few other kids were playing mage and nightling, but their acting had nothing of hilarious excitement. It carried the same awe and wonder, confusion and pain, open question and veiled horror that Enim felt.

Enim gladly received water, bread, and a warm hug from Lhut when he sat down. He exhaled deeply.

"Now, what was that?" Enim asked. Although it should have been perfectly clear. It had been announced beforehand, hadn't it? So now it had come to pass: Pramus, a powerful mage hired by Naydeer, had killed a nightling with enchantments and fire.

However, Lhut too seemed to feel that things were unclear. And disturbing. He sat down beside Enim, sighing just as deeply. "I don't know."

"Who is magician?" Enim asked. "Pramus."

Lhut shrugged. "I don't know him that well. He is close to Naydeer, that much is certain. He seems to travel a lot. On her business? On his own? Who knows."

Lhut pulled the padding off one leg, feeling around inside before putting his bespoke house-shoe back on. "As a child, Pramus was at the feudal court, apprenticed to old mages. So I imagine he was on his way to becoming one of them, to rule the people with thunder and lightning. But then the Transition came and ousted the mages from power. The Transition has taken away his childhood dream, and his future. But Pramus is not going to let it go. He will live all of that anyway, best that he can, and do his upmost to restore the old order, to make things right again. Or so I assume."

A deep frown had come to Lhut's brow. "Folks say many things about him. That he can summon demons. Or banish them. That he can bind people into fealty. Or keep them safe from harm." Lhut shifted uneasily. He cleared his throat. "He weaves mighty spells, such as we have just seen. But also in the mines. He commands thunder and lightning. No one knows the true extent of his powers."

Enim looked thoughtfully down into his glass. The clear water swirled invisibly, making itself known only through its dance, its weight, its movements. And a spark of light that allowed itself to get caught.

Enim cocked his head. "I have friend in Varoonya who live with traditional mage for some time. For learn." Enim took a sip. "My friend make illusions," he added as clarification. "In theater."

"Ah." Lhut pulled up a blanket and wrapped it around his waist. Then he halted. "Illusions?" He looked at Kaya, who had been listening to their conversation. Kaya stared back at him intently.

"You could not fight a nightling with illusions," Lhut said in a monotonous voice, his eyes still locked with Kaya's. "That would never work." Lhut pushed the blanket in tightly behind his back.

Kaya folded her arms over her chest. "It was suspiciously convenient. Suspiciously public. An hour and a location where everybody would see him." She turned to Enim. "Would your friend be able to conjure up such a thing? The illusionist?"

Enim tried to think about that. To imagine it. "Yes," he said finally. "I believe. Yoor can make image like that, very good, very real." Enim hesitated. "But. I only see Yoor in theater. A small room. Here is very different. That thunder we heard all over Shebbetin. Also the light. All of it is much, much more than you need, or can have, inside a room." Enim's brow furrowed. "I don't know if it hard to make all of it more loud, more bright. I think not. But what I know about illusions? Not very much."

"Sounds like enough to me," Kaya said. She turned to Lhut. "A nightling would never fly attacks on a human like that. Not out in the open. So either Pramus has used magic to attract her, and to make her attack."

"Or...?" Lhut prompted.

"Or he hasn't." Kaya's eyes were narrow. "In which case, the nightling was as much of an illusion as the fight."