Salaark gestured him to pass her the equipment he wanted to recycle while she wrote a small tome about the different kinds of sweets she wanted to try.
"Lith Manohar the fourth Verhen, you are a hard man to find." A petulant annoying and yet familiar voice said.
"I have no middle name and even if I had it, it wouldn't be Manohar the fourth!" Lith said to his old teacher and sort of friend, Krishna Manohar.
"I understand that you are upset. No one likes getting fourth place, but there's no other choice. The second and the third are already taken respectively by Marth's first and second born." He replied.
The god of healing was a man in his early thirties, about 1.74 meters (5'9") tall with black hair streaked silver. He wore the uniform of the Professors of the White Griffon and had several handcuffs on both his wrists.
The bloodstains on his face and hands were the proof that whoever had been tasked with keeping him restrained had done their best, yet they had failed nonetheless.
"Finding me is easy since you have my communication rune. How did you get here and what do you need me for?" Lith asked.
Contrary to his expectations, the usually rude Professor gave Salaark a deep bow before answering.
"Well, yes but technically no. If I called you, they would know where to find me and hunt us both. As for your questions, I got here through the Desert's Gate network that the Overlord graces me to use and I need you for the most important of tasks!
"The fate of the Kingdom depends on it." Manohar replied.
"Wait, if you are on an official mission, then who is after you?" Lith's mind went to Thrud and her army of Shapeshifters.
Taking Manohar down would have crippled the Kingdom's military strength and its ability to counter her army of enslaved creatures at the same time.
"The Royal Constables and Marth, who else?" The Mad Professor said like it was an obvious answer.
"Why would they try and stop you from performing your duty?" The more Lith heard the more his head spun in confusion.
"You can ask them yourself when we are done with the mission." Manohar took his Forgemastering wand out of his pocket and cast a tier two Spirit Spell that was an enhanced version of Clean Slate.
The shackles fell on the ground, their magical imprint jammed and put into stasis, disabling even passive enchantments like tracking spells.
'What the heck?' Solus thought while wearing the Eyes to better understand the situation. 'Didn't he learn Spirit Magic just a few days ago?'
'He went from tier zero to tier two without any help.' Lith thought.
"Remind me to thank Quylla. Without this little guy that ignores stuff like arrays and normal means of magical detection, I would have never managed to escape. Menadion must have been a genius almost on par with me." Manohar said, looking at the silvery wand with respect.
"You never cease to impress me, god of healing." Salaark shared their feelings of admiration. "If you ever decide to be a grown-up and leave the Kingdom, there will always be a place for you here."
"Thank you, your Highness, but I have no intention to mess with perfection." He gave her a small bow, noticing for the first time the size of her belly.
"Congratulations are in order." He gave her another bow before shaking Lith's hand. "I guess now your stay in the Desert makes sense. Have you already thought of a name? Manohar would sound amazing and it fits both boys and girls."
"It's not mine!" Lith said while Salaark laughed at his flustered face.
"There's nothing shameful in a love triangle in your age." Manohar pointed at Solus while admiring the seven streaks in her hair. "Like every great healer, you sure like to expand your horizons. First tall, then medium, now pint-sized."
"I'm not pint-sized!" Solus replied.
"And I'm not a runaway!" The Mad Professor said, making Salaark laugh harder. "You have the streaks and the temper to be Sylpha's daughter. Also, you are quite plump and older than Lith. Has she sent you as a honeytrap?"
"You son of a-" Being called short, old, and fat made Solus jump at his throat.
"What's your mission?" The murder attempt would have succeeded if Lith hadn't stepped between them to keep the quarrel from escalating.
"Our mission, to be precise. I'm Vastor's best man and you are his favorite student so it's our sacred duty to throw him a bachelor party." Manohar's solemn tone left Lith stunned for a few seconds until he realized that it wasn't a joke.
"Why do you need my help?"
"Because I have never attended one and I've been proven more than once that few people share my idea of a pleasant evening. These are Vastor's final days as a free man and I want them to be memorable.
"Also, I'm dying to experience my first bachelor party. For some reason, people never invite me so I've decided to throw one myself. Yet I have no clue where to start, that's why I need the help of a libertine."
Manohar conjured a hologram of every woman Lith had ever dated on Mogar. The list was creepily precise, except for the final two entrances, Salaark and Solus.
The Overlord of the Desert started to cry from laughter at Lith's beet-red face while he gritted his teeth and hands. The Mad Professor had added the proverbial insult to the injury of violating his privacy.
"Let's get over with this. I'll meet you back home." Lith handed Solus her stone ring.
She nodded, pretending to walk outside the tent just to get back in her stone spider form and crawl under Lith's robe.
"I'm glad you got rid of her." Manohar nodded. "We need to make a stop first and it's not something I could share with one of your flings."
'Can I please kick him in the nuts once we are done?' Solus asked.
'Yes.' Lith replied.
Manohar moved through the palace with a confidence that made curiosity replace their anger. He had clearly been there many times before, making them wonder why Salaark allowed him to use her Gates.
"These things are great, but they let both sides know who uses them." The god of healing pointed at the Warp Gate as he inputted a set of coordinates. "That's how I found you and why I always walk to the borders to not leave a trail."
On the other side of the dimensional corridor, there was a village of tents much smaller than Salaark's palace. It was comprised of about forty white tents that Lith recognized as human homes and fifteen bigger tents used for the magical beasts that the people of the Desert used as steeds.
"Welcome to the Forgotten Plume tribe." Manohar walked toward the big tent with the flag of Salaark's Feather on its top.
Lith knew Feathers to be powerful mages that Salaark used as City Lords.
"What the heck are you doing, Manohar? I would ask you if you have gone insane for bringing an Archmage of the Kingdom here, but we've already established that." The village Feather said.
Lith was certain to never have met the man before, yet his face was oddly familiar.
