"Phew, phew."
Snowflakes drifted through Kamar-Taj, and though the plum blossoms against the snow made for a beautiful sight, no one was there to admire them. Inside a room, a middle-aged mage with a small mustache was curled up in a high-tech massage chair, snoring steadily.
A small redwood round table with long legs stood not far from his arm. On it sat a steaming cup of fragrant tea and a small plate of mung bean cakes. The dial on the massage chair's remote was set to "Creator God" level.
The massage chair mechanically repeated its motions to loosen human muscles and stimulate circulation, utterly silent. Even the snow piling onto the branches in the courtyard was noisier than it was.
The man in the chair had been sleeping soundly, a glistening trace hanging from the ends of his mustache. Who knew what he was dreaming about? As he drooled, he kept smacking his lips.
Then, suddenly, he frowned. Even his breathing stopped for an instant, and he made a nasal sound like a piglet snorting.
"Snort, snort!"
The next moment, he opened his eyes and found a white-bearded man in blue robes standing beside him, staring at him without blinking.
"Damn it!" Monark rolled out of the massage chair, clutching his chest with a startled expression. "Master Hamir, are you trying to scare me to death so you can inherit my rabbit farm? Do you know that with your eyes open that wide, I thought someone had hit you with Petrificus Totalus and left you staring at death?"
Hamill did not waste words. The hand wearing a Sling Ring immediately began drawing circles beside him. Golden sparks spun rapidly, and the scene at the other end grew clearer and clearer.
"He asked for you."
Kamar-Taj's guardian was as terse