Duty In Penance

Unsure of what was going to happen, but having no other choice, Gareth obediently followed the man. After having walked for a while he could no longer hold back a question. "Uhm... Where are we going?". He asked cautiously, hoping not to anger the man.

Enanth had led him out of the library, both restricted and proper, and into the main residence of the Archives. His question was legitimate, to which he simply led him up the southwest tower. In answer as they climbed, he responded, "To exact your penance, Master Gareth."

"Enanth!"

He stopped, Gareth behind him. Another mage climbed up the stairs to him, throwing young Gareth a curious glance. "I heard the restricted section was breached."

"You heard correct, Lucian," he answered. "This is the would-be thief."

"Ah, I see," spoke the mage, now eyeing Gareth. "Very well, come along thief, we know what to do with you."

Enanth raised an eyebrow. "Do not move," he simply said. "There is no need to take my charge-"

"Listen, Enanth, your ways of rehabilitating criminals has never earned approval from the Circle and it ends now," the mages said with anger. He looked at Enanth with suspicion. "The thief goes to the council."

"You forget your station, Lucian," Enanth said in the same gentle voice. "You are a Fourth, I am a Third. Do you wish to contest me?" He asked the irate mage with a raised eyebrow.

Dangerous was the look in the younger mage as they held gazes. Heavy was the moment, neither moving. "Young master, let us go," Enanth spoke with ease to Gareth.

"This will be heard by the Circle. I await their sentence of you," spoke the mage in superior tones. "And all of your work and all you have done will not save you. Mark those words, Enanth!" The mage shouted in ending as Enanth turned and guided young Gareth up.

It was only a few more steps as they came to an iron-banded oak door. Enanth gestured for Gareth to enter, closing the door behind him. "I apologize for my younger lesser. He knows not how the world works, nor of the reasons for actions."

The tower room was spacious and covered with rolls of parchment. He glanced at the mess before turning his full attention back to Gareth. "Give me your arm," he ordered. He rolled up the sleeve of his arm. He presented his finger, touching the bare, rather cold skin with force. Arcane magic poured forth from his finger as he traced a sigil, his own personal wizard mark. When he finished, he spoke.

"You are now marked with my own sigil, Master Gareth," he explained calmly as the man grasped at his marked arm. "So long as your penance needs to be served, you will wear it. You are free to leave at anytime, just know that I am aware of you. I ask that you do not flee from here, for it will be unfavorable.

"So long as you wear that mark, you can pass without harassment. You do not need to fear the others, I shall deal with them. As for your penance," he continued with a wave of his hand. A quill floated over to parchment, bottle unscrewing. "On that desk you will find the works of Malik, The Fool. Transcribe the third to ninth chapters to the parchment."

He looked to the man. He summoned his magic once more, this time summoning plates of food, steaming hot plates of meat and bounds of fruit. "While you are here, you will be cared for. I will return when the sun has set beyond the sky."

(OOC: he still doesn't suspect what he is 😉)