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But Ian wasn’t certain. The situation then and now hadn’t changed, so there was no way for him to find out.
His answer to the Dragon’s question whether he was sure Fran Page had nothing to do with the decisions he had made his whole life hadn’t changed. Ian wasn’t sure back then, and he still wasn’t sure now.
‘I don’t know.’ Ian thought to himself.
That itself was the reason Ian had come up with three plans. And the last plan was to find the greatest mage of all time, who was also the Golden Dragon, and perhaps, his own father. The one who was the last piece to this puzzle and all his problems.
‘I have to find Fran Page.’ Ian thought determinedly.
It was difficult for Ian to remember him as his father. He had no memories of him, and he was a unique figure in Ian’s life. He wasn’t like any ordinary father, which, of course, made it impossible for Ian to treat him as one.
‘Not that there would be a way for me to treat him as a father.’ Ian thought.
Vanessa, Ian’s mother, had few memories of Fran Page. Specifically, she only remembered the Fran Page that was once her husband. She seemed to be completely clueless about what more there was to his identity.
‘I suppose we’ll see him someday.’ Ian thought.
There was no proof of that, but Ian was certain. After all, hadn’t they crossed paths twice already? Once as the first mage, and the other time as the Golden Dragon.
‘If I do meet him, what should I ask him?’
Was Ian supposed to ask him whether he was his father? Or what schemes he, Fran Page, was planning? Or what he wanted from Ian?
‘And if he does answer my questions, how am I supposed to respond?’
What if he had a plan that Ian would fall for? And what if, on the other hand, Ian wasn’t convinced with whatever the Dragon was planning? Was he supposed to help Fran Page with his schemes? Or should he be stopped? Or should he be left alone?
‘I just don’t know.’ Ian thought as all such doubts crossed his mind.
He shook his head and turned his attention back to the book. A few hours passed, and the sky grew dark outside. Someone knocked on the door, hard. Ian wondered how much time had passed. It was Emily, who had been working in the Page home for seven years and had risen to be head of the servants with the sudden increase of the workmen.
“Master. It’s time.”
She had come to remind him of the time Ian had told her beforehand. It was time to attend the council.
Ian looked up and glanced out the dark window. It felt like time was going by quickly nowadays.
“Thank you,” Ian said. “You can go back to work now.”
Ian got up from his seat and looked over at the robes he had hung in his closet. One was the robe of Mitchell Greenriver, and the other was Bertold the Sewer’s masterpiece.
‘I should return that soon…’
Mitchell Greenriver’s robe actually belonged to the palace. It had been passed down for generations. Mitchell Greenriver’s last words had instructed that the robe may only be given to the royal mage, so the robe had simply been ‘lent’ to him.
“Hmmm.” Ian said thoughtfully.
After a long moment of silence, he took the robe of Mitchell Greenriver and after folding it neatly, placed it in his pouch. He suddenly had an idea.
“Let’s go.” He muttered to himself.
It was too late for him to walk, so he murmured a teleportation spell. A ray of white light swallowed Ian. His destination was the council of the Ivory Tower.
All the High-Class mage were already in their seats when Ian arrived at the Greenriver Ivory Tower, where the meeting would proceed. Ian wasn’t late at all. In fact, he was quite early. Despite his punctuality, he ended up being the last one present.
Ronan, a middle-aged high-class mage said, being the first to spot Ian. He immediately stood from his seat to show his respect for Ian.
“Gr..greetings, Master of the Ivory Tower.”
The other mages were quick to follow suit and address their greetings as well. There was no special reason for them to arrive early. It was simply because Ian would be present, and Ian was usually early. And he had teleportation abilities.
“You are all here early. I thought I would be first.”
Ian’s family was used to having Ian around. And his relationship with the King Terry Greenriver was special. The eight artisans see Ian as someone more than what people see. However, the same Ian that the rest of the world saw was completely different to normal people.
“Appointments are meant to be kept.” A mage answered.
“And there were a lot of preparations to be made for the meeting, so…” Another mumbled.
“Oh, we simply wouldn’t make you wait, Master.” A third answered.
Ian was the object of their reverence and fear. In fact, Ian Page was more than that.
“Let’s proceed then, shall we?” Ian asked as if he was completely clueless. Ian sat in his seat. It was the first Ivory Tower Council of the Empire Year 509. And the meeting proceeded earlier than planned.
Thank you for reading.