The footsteps of a lady now echoed loudly through the wide corridors of the palace as she was walking through them. She was wearing high heels and a very expensive, fluffy and eye-catching dress. Of course, this immediately attracted the attention of some of the guards, who were standing to one side discussing something. When she noticed this, she had to immediately stop and hissed at them: "Don't you have anything better to do than loiter around here?" Then she looked at the men's uniforms, which had red and white chequered patterns and the sun emblem of the empire on the tunics. She had never seen them before and, therefore, cynically remarked: "You must want to make a career in the circus! I wish you the best of luck!" Then she turned her back on them and went on her way again. One of the soldiers almost wanted to say something, but his colleague held him by the shoulder and signalled that he had better leave it alone. Wisely, they saw no point in explaining to her, that these were the uniforms of the new Crown Guard.

  She then strolled into her husband's office. August was, as usual, busy doing a lot of administrative work. Petra propped herself up against the table and leant over it. The gentleman was startled for a moment as he was so engrossed in his work that he hadn't even heard the lady come in. Then she backed away again a little and turned round in a circle, showing off her garment. "So, what do you think of it? Chic, isn't it?" - "Yes, you look beautiful in it, my dear," he complimented her appearance. He didn't stop what he was doing, but immediately turned his attention back to the documents in front of him. Petra grimaced in displeasure at this. She positioned herself in front of him and said to her husband: "I know there's a lot to do, but lately you've hardly had any time at all. How much longer will it take you?" The chief of staff replied without turning away from his work: "I have so many orders to issue today. I don't even know when I'll be finished."

  But when he looked up and saw the sharp look in his sweetheart's eyes, he understood the situation. "I'll make sure I get it done as soon as possible." - "Before tonight, if possible," his partner chided him. But then she leant over and quickly peered at what he was writing. "What are you doing that requires so much effort?" - "A lot," August replied. "I have to organise and handle the takeover of all the properties of the self-proclaimed "Alethic Church" by the "Teleiotic Commune", commonly known as the Old Believers. And then there's the matter of the Zeemark, whose elites have formally surrendered to us. I have to play an extremely delicate game here to lull them into a false sense of security." The lady gave him a sceptical look and asked: "They supported the old regime all those years. Can we really trust them?" - "No, we can't! That's why, as I said, I want make them feel safe for the time being, so that I can 'replace' them in the foreseeable future. I already know my methods to achieve that." August was a conniving man and his wife fully supported him in that. She also believed that these people had to pay.

  Meanwhile, Wenzel was busy with something else. Dressed in completely new robes, he now walked through the palace to attend a pre-arranged meeting in one of the many meeting rooms. His clothes were also red and white, but did not have a chequered pattern. He also wore a purple cloak with a new coat of arms on it. It depicted two hands on a white background, with their palms facing upwards in supplication and broken chains on their wrists. Above them, in the centre, was the red soul stone and an emblazoned sun in gold on top of it. This was the new imperial coat of arms. He entered one of the rooms, which had a way larger than life-sized door. Inside sat three figures whose wrists and ankles were still chained. They were guarded by an equal number of guards. "Good afternoon!" Wenzel said as he entered and closed the door behind him. Then he went to his chair. But before he could sit down to the opposite side of them, he looked at the men dressed in the somewhat tattered, clerical robes. Only then did he take a seat.

  The gentleman in the centre now addressed him: "My lord, what do you wish to speak to us about?" - "What do you think?" came the reply. The man thought for a moment and then said: "I would like to implore your forgiveness! The Inquisition was an institution to preserve the power of the dynasty. We had no choice but to obey their orders." The Chosen One looked fixedly at the tabletop in front of him. Then he replied: "We both know that's not true. But let's forget about the forgiveness thing. That's God's business anyway and not mine. What interests me is this: Who really originally started the Inquisition?" The older gentleman swallowed briefly and then replied: "It was the first emperor, Melgar, or "the Chosen One" as many call him." This made Wenzel extremely grim and everyone else could see it immediately. "So, the deceitful Cornel was telling the truth after all!" the boy now realised. The three individuals in front of him were a little worried, as they didn't realise that Wenzel was only questioning them to get information, not to punish them for something, as they were suspecting.

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  The young man was furious. The patriarch of the Old Believers, Elias II as he called himself, had lied to him! He had made him believe, that Wenzel really was the only magician in the world and that the regime's witch hunts were only aimed at eliminating their critics and enemies. This was apparently not quite the case after all. But now he had another question. "How many wizards are actually being born in Ordania? As those involved in this operation, you must have some idea, don't you?" At first, the men looked at each other. The lad thought they weren't going to tell him, but then their spokesman raised his voice again: "I can't say with certainty. Almost none, that's for sure. But not zero either. I would say .... one in 10 million...maybe. I really don't know exactly." - "That's all right," Wenzel responded. He had found out what he wanted. He wasn't the only "demon" in the world. That much he knew now. After the interrogation, he had the men locked up again. They were still full of hatred towards him and all those who thought differently then them. It was better they were imprisoned for their crimes.

  The following night, the Chosen One had "vivid" dreams again, for the first time in a while. Light as a feather, he was floating around in the air. When he looked around, he saw black shards all around him. They were also behind him when he turned around. There was a vast sea of shards all around him, wherever he looked. An ominous feeling was brewing inside him when he saw this. Then, on a few shards, that were as high as buildings, purple shreds were hanging. They reminded Wenzel of his cloak, which is why he flew towards them. But before he could take a closer look, a gust of wind caught the piece of cloth and blew it away. At that moment, the shards suddenly turned to stone. Bricks and paving stones, wooden beams, sticks, tools, furniture and other things were suddenly scattered everywhere. The mage was standing in the middle of ruined houses. Now he knew where he was again. Oh, no!

  The screams and wailing could be heard just like last time in this vision. He tried to go somewhere else, but his left foot stepped into a pool again. When he looked into it, he saw the reflection of his face in it. Not only was he older, he also had snow-white hair. "A geezer!" he thought to himself. Consequently, he ignored all the destruction around him and immediately ran in the direction he had taken last time. Running between debris and climbing over piles of rubble, he flushed the crows as he rushed past them. He came across the fallen monumental pillar again and immediately jumped over it using his magic to let himself float through the air a bit. From here, he looked back towards the city centre. It was the same picture again: the tower of the great Cathedral of Annunciation had collapsed. All around it, all kinds of buildings were burning. He could no longer remember what had happened next the last time. Then the vision helped him out and he began to hear an unfamiliar voice in his mind:

  "So, you're here, old man. Do you like my work?"

  Wenzel tried to answer, but no words left his mouth. Then the dream ended abruptly and the boy started up from his dream with a scream. He was panting wildly and covered in sweat. At that moment, a guard opened the door and asked him, if he was alright. The wizard confirmed and said: "I just had a nightmare. Nothing to worry about." But that was a lie. The fact that Wenzel was still receiving this prophecy was definitely something to worry about, even if it would only come true when he was an old man.