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By this time Fred had almost become used to the feeling of being a 15-year-old wench, even adopting the typical manner of one, which terrified her all the more. She was still a trembling mess, right up to the time she got off the wagon and was escorted into the palace and introduced to Arahim. Her escort explained the reported situation to the wizard, whose eyebrows went up to join his hairline as he listened. He shut the doors behind the escort as he left and looked Fred up and down. Fred said quietly, on the verge of tears as always, "Sir, I'm very sorry, I know how it sounds, but it is true." Arahim shook his head. "I don't know if you do know how it sounds. Belboz waved his hand, and that was it? Do you have any idea how difficult a transmutation this thorough is, let alone with a single gesture? I knew Belboz, and if he was truly that powerful, well, nobody else knew of it. It seems rather more likely you're an insane little girl off the streets." Fred was shrinking into herself. "P-please, sir..." "Enough conjecture on my part. I shall begin my examinations, and get to the bottom of this. You'll want to hold still."
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