Chapter Seven

The men were quiet. But that was hardly unexpected, Imperial Guards had that effect on people. Hamaf would have shared their silence but as the commanding officer he was expected to be in control of the situation, or at least appear so.
"So, what unit are you from?"
"Transportation, I just make sure people get from point A to Point B without dying."
He bent over in the middle of the room. After glancing around for a moment he pulled a pouch off of his belt and started sprinkling powder in a circle around himself. After the pouch had been emptied he shuffled out of the ring and began to brush the powder into elaborate patterns.

He'd seen street performers do something similar to accompany some of their more impressive effects. It had a name, but he couldn't remember it. But those few experiences in the past had shown him that it was better to stand a safe distance away from any sort of magic.

Collin was locked in place a little closer to the circle. She was wringing her hands quietly and muttering to herself. He knew her well enough to know it wasn't terror, and anything thought about magic that wasn't a form of fear was a dangerous way to think about magic.
"Sergent."
Collin ignored him. Never a good sign.
"Sergent, get over here."
The guard was bending over to activate the circle. Collin stepped forward towards it, as if to enter it.
"Sergent Collin Harmensky, I order you to get over here now!"
She snapped back instantly and fell backwards in shock. He reached down and pulled her away from the circle as a the circle dissolved into the floor and began to glow purple. The men readied their weapons; magic was bad enough, but purple never meant anything good. Somewhere in the Captain's thoughts a tiger roared defensively, he knew that whatever was coming through it would be more than they could dream of handling.
"Sorry to interrupt your little doomsday ceremony, but it's time for you to butt out."
To complete the pun, the back end of a blood-red stave connected with the top of the guard's helmet. With a quick yelp he fell into the circle and...just kept falling; like it were a hole in the universe itself.
A short man in a robe appeared holding the staff. He quickly bent over touched the circle, incinerating all traces of it. The floor returned to it's previous, finite state.
"Sorry about that, these conjurer sorts tend to take advantage of people's assumptions about us. You can't be held responsible for that." He turned and gingerly took Collin's hand. "Are you alright milady?"
She blinked rapidly, still shaken by the experience. "I, I guess so."
"Have a bit to drink, it'll help you shake off the effects. Mind Control is nasty business."
Collin took the flask and took a sip. Hamaf studied the man carefully before approaching him. He was, well, short. He was probably a good six inches smaller than Hamaf was, barely taller than Collin. Brown hair, dirty, he smelled a bit like a sewer. And his clothes were little more than tightly bound rags, and they weren't even the same color rags.
But he was kinder than the guard had been. If he'd been a guard after all, being kicked into your own bottomless pit seemed like a stupid mistake for anybody. And he seemed genuinely concerned for Collin's well-being. The girl had been like a daughter to him since she'd signed on, anyone who treated her well got at least a few minutes of his time.
"Who are you?"
"My apologies," He switched his staff to his left hand. "Lieutenant Peter, you'll forgive me if I don't tell you my last name. I've seen what you can do with a proper name and I'd prefer to not be so easily commanded."
"Where do you work?"
A wide grin grew across his stubble covered face. "Maintenance"