The Book of Warlock

The Book of Warlock 21. Welcome to Warlock Court

Paper flipped, page after page, dry rustling filling the room. A few murmurs. A cough. It was quite the interesting dossier that had been placed before the committee.

There had been rumours spread in hushed corridors, whispers of a madness that had taken hold of their most senior Council member. The man had wielded full control of the faculty for many years now, being a learned mage. A scholar. A lecturer. He'd managed his position with ease. Overseen many important projects. His office walls were wallpapered with certificates and commendations from important people in the world, those in parliament, Royalty even. The Council of Sorcerers had its grubby fingers in many administration departments across the globe.

Seeing him now, with wild eyes and straggly beard, spluttering about dragons on a far off galaxy, frothing about a wild Warlock with powers unimaginable, was a pitiful sight.

Old age came to everyone, and the senility that followed was such a shame. There had been offerings of magical aid from the polytechnic's student medics, but Rowan was adamant that he still had all of his marbles. And so, sadly, the committee had no choice but to give him his audience he so craved, to tell his madcap story one more time, but officially this time. He'd stabbed at his computer keyboard, clattering through the night, detailing an awful weapon stolen from beneath their noses in the security compound, and monstrous creatures he'd encountered called 'Nightmares', telling of his and his assistant's magical assault, and even cold-blooded murder in the case of Sebastian and Liedich.

Not much added up. But that was ok, this was unhinged enough to have him removed from his post, and put away somewhere safe, where he could receive the help he needed.

"Do you see?!"

The committee nodded. "Yes, we see, Rowan. Thank you for bringing all this to our attention."

"He's still out there! Chock full of wild dragon magic! He tried to bring the whole universe to a collapse..."

"Thank you, Rowan," the committee chair said with a firm finality to his voice. They'd heard enough.

"So, you're going to do something?" he begged.

"Yes. Yes, we are going to do something. We'll be in touch with you soon, Rowan. In the meantime, we're placing you on administrative leave..."

"What?!" he exploded, spittle flying into his new beard, "why? None of this was because of me! You can't prove anything!"

The chair gave him a quizzical frown, "what do you mean by that? You were never under investigation."

Rowan sat, agitated. He thought to say something, but stopped himself. "Of course. But, administration leave usually implies wrongdoing. I should know, I've placed enough mages under it in my time."

"Haha," though was no mirth behind it, "we feel you are fatigued by your ordeal..."

"Bullshit! You'll be saying I'm emotional next!"

"Quite."

"I've seen things! Things you wouldn't believe... you don't believe me, do you?"

The chair nodded to the secretary, "you can scratch all that from the meeting record."

There was a pink flash of magic. "Done."

"He'll come here! Lucinder Braithwaite has her home co-ordinates for the portal system. Our world will be contaminated with dragon magic!"

Another nod, and security swept forward, taking the Senior mage under his armpits and physically lifted him from the seat.

"I said, you have been placed under administrative leave, without the administrational duties I might add, for your rest and recuperation, while we consider the data in this dossier. We will be in touch."