Azem wakes up alone in a room
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"Lead the way."

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"Yep! Yep yep yep most terrifying thing I've ever done!"

He turns and starts walking very quickly down that hallway over there.

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He follows Quael at a steady and quick but leisurely pace.

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In contrast, Quael scurries down the hallways at a pace that is only vaguely trying to resemble walking.

"Right so, uh, we probably won't see anyone because people don't really come here if they can help it, the hallways are claustrophobic and people going through a dangerous-ish transformation thing are really not great company, but if we run into a janitor or something, uh. Hide your necklace and pretend you're the new guy that I'm showing around??"

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He obligingly adjusts his necklace inside his shirt.

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"Good, thank you, keep up the good work, and maybe pick a name to tell people you have, and like, make up some kind of reasonable backstory of magic related academic and economic failure that justifies ever wanting to work here just in case anyone asks. Aaaaand this way, we're going this way..." He ducks down into a somehow even more claustrophobic and sketchy looking hallway. "Nobody uses this thing because it's like, definitely the sort of place that people would theoretically get murdered in, even though it would make zero sense for a rampant murderer to make it past the billions of wards. Though I guess someone could snap and have one of those moments where they want to kill everyone and then go and try to do it in a blaze of I'm not going to keep talking about that right now because this is quite enough terror thank you! Anyway point is my crippling social anxiety persuaded me to find non-people side entrances that my entry charm worked at and this is coming in handy now so yay for that!"

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Help, he's adorable. "I trust you," he says simply.

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"That makes one of us, man, I have about a third of a degree I'm not even good at and truly terrifying amounts of debt! I don't trust me and for good reason!"

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He stifles a giggle and just shrugs. "I think I will just use my human name when talking to humans," he says, changing the subject.

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"Right, okay, good plan most people wouldn't have the logbook memorized probably because most people don't even work in this section," he agrees in a rush. "Okay door here exits to the side entrance and from there—"

He reaches the door, holds up one of his many charms to the door's frame, and...

... Nothing happens.

"Um? Um."

He wiggles the charm a bit more forcefully.

Nothing happens. Again.

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Zheras blinks.

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"Pleaaaaase open?" Unsuccessful charm wiggle. "Do I have the wrong charm...?"

He looks through the charms on his person. "Nnnnno this should be it, I remember because it's the one with the annoying catch that snags my clothes and it, nevermind, not important, why isn't it working?"

Wiggle, wiggle. Nope, still not working.

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Well, Zheras is pretty sure he can do magic other than pyromancy (don't ask him how he's sure) so uh... Can he try something? Is something tryable?

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It's not.... immediately obvious what he would do. Pushing fire at it would be perfectly doable, but there's a taste of salt-chalk-iron spinkled among the dizzying number of other strange flavors in the door and wall around it.

"Uhhhhhh would it be better to stay here in the murder hallway or try to break out through the wards and become, uh, probably fugitives of the empire? I don't super want to become a fugitive of the empire, maybe just. We go try another door...? Or maybe I got the charm wrong, I don't think I got the charm wrong but I should just check because I'm panicking and I can't trust my head when everything is terrifying so I'm just gonna..."

He begins systematically wiggling each charm on his person in front of the doorframe. Nothing happens.

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What other flavours, though?

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Bitter blackthorn berries and the subtle taste of bay leaves, dry ash mixed with something that tickles strangely, several different types of rock that all taste a little bit different, sharp quartz and clear silver and deep obsidian, and other more subtle flavors mixed in a slightly sickening magical mush. It's definitely not particularly palatable. Or friendly.

Quael, meanwhile, runs out of charms to try. The door remains unopened.

"Well. Well. Um. Um. New door?"

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Yeaugh, these are not good flavours. And this feels like biting down on tinfoil, eek.

"Lead the way," he says, looking slightly disgusted.

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"Yeah. Um. Front door would be bad, I guess we can go out the... other side door on the other side of everything? But then that would cross us through the everything and, um, hm. I don't know how to avoid people while crossing through the everything..."

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Someone in the hallway clears his throat. Behind them is a man of perhaps fifty with silver hair and subtle wrinkles. He doesn't outwardly look particularly noteworthy, though his hair and clothing is exceptionally neat. Magically, however.... his strong and powerful magical aura smells of elderberries and cinnamon and cloves, and is the second most obvious thing about him.

The first is a burning ruby, ornately set on a gold band on his finger. It feels... different than the other magical trinkets on his person. The ruby feels alive, warmly thrumming at the steady pace of a heartbeat. Zheras's. It smells like sun-kissed peaches and spice, and doesn't feel like it particularly belongs with its wearer.

"I believe that won't be necessary."

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Quael jumps and then promptly begins stammering something about the new guy being very lost. It goes rather too quickly to pick out any particular details, except that perhaps Quael is not a particularly gifted liar.

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"Hello," Zheras greets him.

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"Hello," he replies, inclining his head politely.

He eyes the still babbling Quael, and sighs.

"Do please stop trying to lie to me."

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... Quael promptly shuts his mouth with a little squeak.

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"Thank you. I apologize for putting you in this position, I realize it was probably very confusing and alarming. If you both will please follow me to my office where we can discuss this over tea? I expect you have quite a lot of questions."

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Zheras looks at Quael then back at the man. "That does not seem like a very good idea."

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