'And there were...
Three dead wizards,
walking through hell.
The first had a fancy dress,
and on his staff a bell.
The second had a mirror,
couldn't stop looking at himself.
The third kept hopping up and down,
he thought he was an elf.'

Myriad grinned. She didn't always make up a catchy song just out of nothing, and thought this one might become popular. 'You shouldn't make fun of a thing like that,' a voice behind her said, and Myriad spun around. She had thought to be alone on the road, but now there was an old man in grey clothes sitting on the side of it. He had a staff laying by his side.
'Why not?' Myriad asked. 'I'm a troubadour, it's my job to make fun of things.'
'Not, I might say, about wizards,' the old man said and got up. His hair and beard were bright white and his eyes of a clear, baby-blue. Myriad frowned.
'Let me guess,' she said. 'You're a wizard, right?'
'The only ones to defend wizardry in a matter like this are wizards, young lady,' the man said and bowed. 'My name is Grey.'
'Grey, that's it?' Myriad asked.
'Isn't it enough?' Grey asked in return.
'Alright, then. Grey it is. Could have guessed, I suppose,' Myriad said, shrugging her shoulders.
Grey looked at her. She had long dark hair and brown eyes. Her face was small and delicate, as if she should be the daughter of a king instead of a wandering troubadour, making a living out of songs and stories.
'I'm Myriad Brinsdaughter,' she said and held out her hand. Grey shook it.
'Are you travelling alone?' he asked. 'Because it might be dangerous for a young lady like yourself to travel through these parts all by herself, you know...' Clang! Myriads walking stick had flung up and stopped Grey's swerve with his staff in mid-air.
'Ah. Not bad, not bad,' he said. 'Of course, I realize I look like the untrustworthy bastard I sometimes am, and you might have had time to -' clang! '- prepare yourself. But let's see you follow this!'
He attacked again, and Myriad, not knowing why he was doing it, defended herself, and even attacked him after a while. Finally, he stepped back, and she leaned on her stick, panting.
'That...' she said, 'was one hell... of a fight... but why?' Grey didn't answer, and as she looked up, she saw he was gone. She called out his name, but he didn't come back.
Eventually, she gave up, wondering if she hadn't made it all up; after all, she had travveled long and far since this morning. But she did make sure all of her things were where they belonged before continuing her journey. And she couldn't get Grey out of her mind.

Some hundreds of miles east, two wizards were being yelled at.
'Tell me, didn't I gave you the orders to banish Grey, and kill him once he left Etheria?' the Archmagician asked them. 'Hm?'
'We... thought we had, your omnipotence,' the eldest wizard said. 'There were ten of us, and certainly Grey couldn't stand a change against such power... And we took all of his belongings. You have them, now.'
'Yes, I have,' the Archmagician said. 'But you are hardly back and Grey's already up and about, found himself a staff somewhere, and is wandering freely through the world. And since Grey never was such a powerful wizard, I find it hard not to think the fault lies with you, Coronus.' He looked at the wizards, who shrank back.
'I assure you, Grey was dead when we left him,' Coronus said.
'How did you know? Check his pulse?' the Archmagician asked. 'Any wizard can look like he's dead, even the weak ones. It's not that hard.' He sighed, playing with a small crystal ball on a chain around his neck. 'I want you to find him, and kill him. And I mean, really kill him. We can't be having him walk around like that!'
'Er, do you know where he is, your greatness? My seeing is not very good at the moment...'
'You fools!' the Archmagician snarled. 'He's looking for Bellerophon and his daughter, where do you think he is? So go there, and wait for him. Gods, you can't do anything by yourself, can you?' Coronus bowed and pushed his fellow wizard out of the room, suddenly in a hurry to catch up with Grey. Anything would be better than the Archmagician.
'Coronus,' he was called back and when he turned around, he found the Archmagician standing right in front of him.
'I you fail, I will have to kill Grey myself,' he said, 'and you can join him. Do you understand?'
'Yes, my lord,' Coronus whispered, for there was a lump in his throat and he couldn't speak out loud. 'Completely, my lord.'
The Archmacician sighed again, as the two wizards left, and returned to his crystal ball. Grey was looking for Bellerophon, and that was one reason why he must die, but the Archmagician had already found Bellerophon. He couldn't risk Grey finding that out, as well. And as for Bellerophon's daughter... He smiled, looked into the crystal ball. She was easily found.
Grey, you are a fool. You always have been...

Later that day, Myriad reached a small village, which, according to the sign, went by the name of Moor's Head. Looking around, noticing the moor around the village, it was not a highly inspired name. But there were people, there was a tavern, and that meant a hot meal and a warm bed for the night. So Myriad found her way to the tavern, simply called Colleen's, and went inside. There were not a lot of people, only a small group of villagers and the landlord. She went to the bar, sat down, and ordered a beer. The landlord gave her a curious look.
'Afternoon, miss,' he said, handing over the beer. 'If you don't mind me askin', are you a minstrel?'
'I am,' Myriad said. 'And I was hoping you would let me perform here, tonight.'
'We always need a bit of music around here. The moor ain't exactly the happiest of all places and Ole Joe, who normally plays the guitar here, actually doesn't do it very well. So, be my guest.' He took the money she held out, for the beer, and then said:
'You know what, you play tonight, an' I'll let you stay the night for free, including meals. How's that sound?'
'Perfect.'
'Good. The people around here are not very generous about tips and all, but if you're good, they will reward you.'
'Thanks,' Myriad said. 'I think about now would be good for one of those meals you mentioned.'
'Just name it, an' I'll bring it.'
'I don't really care as long as it tastes good and stops me from feeling hungry.'
'I think it will,' the landlord said and left the room. Myriad drank her beer and looked around. The villagers were just the normal sort of villagers. They were not saying very much, but drinking a lot, and occasionally looking at her. She opened her bag, pulled out some paper and a pen and started writing down the lyrics she had made up earlier that day. During which the landlord returned with her food and a new jar for the villagers. He'd been right, the food was good, and after a long day of walking it felt twice as good.
'Tell me,' she said when the landlord returned to the bar. 'Do you know an old man by the name of Grey?'
'Grey? Yes, he's just an old fool that wanders around in these parts. We haven't seen him for quite a few years, now. Did you meet him?'
'Yes, I was walking and he suddenly appeared.'
'Yeah, he does that, I've heard. Claims he's a wizard. Of course, only an idiot would believe him.'
'I don't know. That staff he had... And he fought well with it, too.'
'Anyone can learn how to fight with a staff,' the landlord said. 'At the most, it proves he learned it some time ago. I wouldn't say that makes him a wizard.'
'But he told me, and I think he told the truth,' Myriad said. 'Does he come into town often?'
'Nah, only once a year or so. And I already said we hadn't seen him for a couple of years now.'
'Do you know where he's from?'
'Not a clue, miss.'
Myriad stared at her meal. She believed Grey was a wizard, like he'd said, but there was omething else about him. Why would a wizard wander around, dressed like a beggar, without an apparent home? The only wizards she knew all wore beautiful clothes, lived in large houses and probably had people to do the wandering for them. Why was Grey different? Why would Grey, if he, like all wizards, had access to enormous wealth and prosperity, refuse it all and live like this? She'd give anything for a bit of luxury, she knew that. So why didn't Grey?