The wizard was dead. His butler came in—he had just left, but he’d heard a noise—and found his mater’s body slumped over the desk, a knife sticking out of his shoulder, the red blood pouring all over the papers. The old butler’s eyes, transfixed upon this shocking scene did not notice the shadow hiding crouched behind the desk. And as he came round the right side of the desk to his dead master, searching the wizard’s body for any sign of life, he did not see the shadow as it snuck round the left side of the desk.
A Dream
Tale Told 