Two days journey later Sir Galahad entered the town of Temperance where the spell of King Morpheus seemed to be heaviest. The folks there would not greet him. They paid no attention to his shining armor, they did not listen to his story of hope, and in fact all thought he was but another phantasm sent by King Morpheus to tease and torment them with a ray of hope only to dash their spirits yet again.

In this town of woe Sir Galahad was drawn to a tavern called the The Fallen Dove. To his eye this was the darkest place within Temperance and Galahad supposed they needed his kind and hopeful words the most. He entered to a dark and cheerless common room and the once beautiful barmaid set a flagon of stale ale before him without a word.

He asked the barmaid why there was no minstrel, why this place was so depressed, even more so than the rest of the town? The barmaid responded that of all the places in town this was from where the Dread Despot chose to extract his Queen of Tears. Ionia was once the pride of the Temperance, a beautiful maiden of joy and laughter, innocent and carefree. She reveled in the day-to-day tasks and took it upon herself to make all who entered happy and light of heart. Then the spell of King Morpheus spread and the fragile happiness Ionia took from her work of spreading good cheer was taken away. She cared so deeply that the fall was so much the greater and her tears would wash the floors they were so great. Thus did the spell effect her the most and thus did the King take her away from here and make her the example of the ideal, sorrowful citizen.

Galahad mused on the fact that Ionia was the home of art and science, the home and foundation of the great hope of the world, and now he knew that it was she had inspired him. This was a piece of the puzzle that was bothering Galahad, not knowing who had sent the vision of hope. Now it all made sense. The barmaid pulled a black cloth off a rendering of the Glad Maiden, and he was instantly smitten, he now had a solid reason for his quest, one that was honorable as well as noble. He would free the land for her, to return her innocence and restore her to her loving family, then Galahad could pursue her for her love.

A shadowy figure in the darkest corner of the tavern giggled as he listened to Galahads notions of grandeur and nobility. He explained that the maiden was purely an illusion, an illusion as sure as the dread apathy that was spread over the land. But illusions can be real is those it affects believe in it. He should know, it was his stock in trade, for he was a wizard of the strongest illusions.

Galahad drew his sword and swung it at the shadowy form in the corner. The shadow did not even attempt to dodge the blow, for the sword passed right through it. Again the wizard laughed at the noble knight, did he think that he could banish an illusion simply by passing a sword through it? No, the wizard was not even there, it was but an illusion of an illusionist. He told Galahad that he could not confront him at this tavern, for the king had made a boon with the Queen of Tears father to never bother him and his place again before he could take his daughter, and he had agreed. So the next battle would have to wait, but there was no reason that the wizard could not get the measure of the man.

With that the illusion of the illusionist stood, and with a blurry bow, took his leave of the questing knight and the disheartened barmaid.