Seated at his balcony, the old man gazes out at the vast desert beyond. His wizened face furrowed in a frown of deep concern.
“Master?” the dulcet voice of his chained spirit Maram jolts him out of his reverie. He raises a bushy eyebrow and looks to the robe-covered twink with a solemn gaze.
“Has her hubris killed her?” the man asks.
“No, it has not, Master Timothy” Maram answers, biting his lip.
Timothy looks away from his charge, a sigh escaping his chest.
“She’s been defeated though… and taken by a Paladin of Love. Her tower is compromised, and the Torch of Transmutation has gone out.
“Just as the Lamp of Enchantment will soon burn dry.” The taunting and impish voice echoes throughout the chamber, and Maram clings to his master, his head against the old man’s chest.
Timothy pats his charge’s back and shakes his head. “Enough games. You may show yourself, Tesarasa.”
From out of the ground, a door emerges. Its hinge turns and it opens up to a grand foyer beyond. Stepping out from it is an elven woman, her body thin and sleek, and the sorceress suit she wears revealing all of her features. Though the scowl upon her face betrays the many years that she has under her. “Don’t treat me like a child. It was Estrasa who was the youngest among us, not me. Don’t you forget it, young man.”
Another voice joins the impromtu meeting, with a seductive chuckle. A mirage forms inte desert heat, a hazy figure of a nude vixen sitting upon the balcony, one leg crossed casually over the other, and a coquettish smirk upon her face.
“You know, Cesrastra,” speaks Timothy, “My enchantment magic is made to keep people from bothering me while I’m in repose, not to attract troublemakers here.”
“Oh,” the fox says, brushing fingers over her collabone and fluttering her eyes, “But you know that I am not truly here.”
He grunts in annoyance. “Well, are there any more of you wishing to come bother me in my Tower?”
“No one in person, Tim,” Tesarasa says, but she holds out her hand, conjuring up a small package tied in a bow, but I did receive this message from our watery friend.”
“The diviner,” Timothy scoffs, snapping his fingers.
Maram hops up and approaches Tesarasa, standing over her, and holding his chained hand out to receive the object.
The elf’s gaze lingers upon the enticing male figure, and she even bites her lip before she turns her gaze away and places the box in his hands. “Don’t play your tricks on me!” she hisses.
Cesrastra giggles, her tail flicking back and forth.
Timothy nods, and Marm pulls the ribbon from the box.
The lid bursts off of it in a spring of buzzing confetti and the snapping of fireworks. The spirit drops it, letting the container clatter to the floor, spilling a glitter-infused liquid that pours out and out and out, far more than the box could contain.
The glitter that floats in the water rearranges itself into the semblance of a face, and upon that crude configuration, the lips move, and a watery voice rises up from the puddle.
“Greetings, my four colleagues. If you are receiving this message, then the defeat of the youngest among us has come to pass. Whether she be alive or dead, Estrasa shall never sit upon the throne of the Tower of Transmutation ever again. This, as other things, I have foreseen.”
Cesrastra rolls her eyes, casually curling and uncurling her toes. Tesarasa yawns. Timothy frowns.
“I have predicted that there will be those who shall clamor for her position, from deep beneath the earth, I sense.”
“Probably that pink annoyance that snatched the book from Straiesha,” Cesrastra scoffs,  resting her chin upon her palm, tapping her cheek with her fingers.
“Or another one of those scaly freaks,” Tesarasa scoffs, puffing out her cheeks, her hands on her hips.
“But, the seat shall not be filled until at least one among this meeting shall lose their title. It shall happen soon. Within the year, and one of you shall meet this heir before this time.”
“Doesn’t take a Diviner to tell that the next to go is Tim,” Tesarasa barks, tapping her heeled boot.
Maram whines at that.
Timothy says nothing.
“I wish to warn you all that something is coming soon. There is a stirring among the celestial realms among the hosts of divinity. They look to our plane with great interest, and if you wish to preserve your own seat of power, you should keep yourself from interacting with whatever plan they have for this world. Until then, I wish you all well, my allies, and my friends.”
With that, the waters returns to an inanimate puddle, slowly dissipearing under the arid heat of the desert climate.
“Well, that told us a whole lot of nothing,” Tesarasa says, shrugging. Her door opens up. “Well, sorry you gotta kick the bucket, Timmy, but that’s the problem with being human. If you excuse me, I have a kingdom to conquer.”
Cesrastra yawns, stretching out, her whole body shaking. “Aaah, and I have travelers to play with. Leave your little grumpy tower if you ever want to play rough one last time.” The fox disappears just like any fleeting image in the distance, leaving Timothy to be alone with his charge.
“Master,” Maram says, his eyes lighting up. “Are you going to die soon? Without an heir?
“The message didn’t say wish of us will be next, but I feel my time as Master Enchanter could soon be at an end. A shame. It seems life is just starting to become worth living again. Straiesha, you blasted dragon… has your plan finally come to fruition?”