A rosy hue from the setting sun filled the room as Milenko sat in an overstuffed chair, his bare feet up on a stool and pointing toward the fire snapping in the fireplace.  Elbow resting on the arm of the chair, he stroked the beard that followed the line of his lower jaw, a few elegant streaks rising from the beard up his cheeks, as he contemplated all of the information that had been imparted to him by his various servants.  All of whom, incidentally, were under the auspices of a lie-detecting spell to ease his suspicious mind that they all might be playing at some sort of elaborate prank or falsehood.  His eyes looked not to the fire, but out through the western window at the sun as it settled behind the houses.  While the city had indeed grown while he was away, his manor still commanded the best views of the surrounding countryside.  The room he was currently in, for instance, had windows that faced both the east and the west, to allow Milenko, or his guests, to both greet and bid farewell to the day.  However, it was not bidding the sun goodnight that was on the mage's mind.  No, all the setting sun did was remind him that, for all his power, time was something that was beyond him.

He let his eyes drift across the various parchments, scrolls, and some few books that he'd collected over the years before he'd last left the manor, noticing that much had been added to his collection by the mindful servitors in his employ.  A thoughtful gesture to a kind Master, they thought it.  Yet, what the sight did was only serve to deepen his melancholy.

Twenty-five years...How? he thought to himself.  How could I have lost a quarter-century of my life?  Who would have such power, save a god?  And, if it were a god, what reason would they have to strip me of those memories?  I can remember doing no wrong to them...but, what if the knowledge of that had been stripped as well?  Would I even realize if I were missing such a thing?  I didn't realize, after all, that twenty-five years of life vanished from my mind; something so trivial as an offense would surely be as child's play to who- or whatever altered my memories.  Still, even if it were true that I am an amnesiac, then why has my appearance not aged to match the years? 

His thoughts then drifted toward news of a more recent nature.  The hiring of that white man that claimed to be from Japan as a replacement for the retired guard that had secured the estate.  Oni, or something-or-other, seemed to be his name.  And that thief that was reported to have attempted to break in a few nights ago.  What was that about?  Coincidence?  Maybe, but unlikely given the circumstances.  Something just didn't add up, and it bothered him.  It bothered him even more that Robert had kept the Oriental around even though it was obvious that the man was less than competent, seeing as how the thief had gotten away, despite having the guard's sword at his throat.

There was only one mage of enough power and knowledge that could answer Milenko's questions for him, at least in terms of the missing time: Ashleigh Van Carter.  If the mage was still among the...well, "living" wouldn't be the appropriate choice of terms considering the man's state of being undead and all.  He considered sending a messenger to Ashleigh, but what little he could remember of the man, he couldn't recall ever hearing where his home was.  And, it was likely that, in the intervening years between meeting him in that tavern and now, he could have moved to a new location.  He supposed that he could get ahold of one of the Sunains, but the only one he knew of, Tracius, that was a mage, specialized in areas of magic other than what he needed information about.

Still, it was an option he'd keep open.  Maybe Tracius could come up with something should Ashleigh fail to assist him.  Now, the only problem was finding a way to contact the vampiric mage.

Focusing his eyes on the sight outside the window again, he discovered that the sun had gone down fully while he was distracted by his thoughts.  Picking up the goblet that sat on the table beside his chair, he drained the distilled wine within it, thankful that his servants had discovered this little refinement to his favorite beverage, then set it back down again, rising to his feet.  It had been a long day, time to retire for the evening.  One thing he missed, though, and felt rather keenly, was the presence of his slave, Satine.  Rather, she wasn't so much a slave as she was a friend, and that was what he needed the most.  She never had served him in a romantic fashion, however, contrary to conventional beliefs of a Master/slave relationship. 

He'd set her free not long before encountering the magic school he'd given a few lectures at, however, so having her to talk to was out of the question.  He'd heard from Robert that she'd even gotten married, and for that he was glad that his friend had found happiness without servitude.  Besides, by now, she would probably be a grandmother.  No, he wouldn't seek her out.  He'd be lucky if she even remembered him anyways. 

As he walked down the hallway to his bedroom, he passed Robert who bid him goodnight and bowed before slipping into the study to retrieve the goblet for his master.  Milenko, for his part, went into his room and closed the door behind him, stripping himself of the robes he was wearing, laying them over the back of a chair for Robert, or another servant, to collect for cleaning before morning.  He looked askance at the nightclothes that one of them had set out for him, then turned down the lamps and climbed nude into the bed, sinking into the cushioned mattress, comfortable for the first time in quite awhile...likely in twenty-five years, for all he knew...and fell asleep instantly, though his dreams were troubled by "what-ifs" concerning the passage of the missing time...