Book 4: Chapter 5: The Elementalist Guild

Book 4: Chapter 5: The Elementalist Guild

“We don’t have to visit the Elementalist Guild today,” Valla said as they walked away from the arena. “We’re due to go to the War Captain’s dinner in a couple of hours.”

“What else are we gonna do? No, I think this is important, and you’ve been patient with me while I messed around here. Come on, aren’t you excited? It’s a whole guild dedicated to your kind of magic! Do they even have those on Fanwath?”

“There are guilds of practitioners, but none that specialize in elemental magic, at least none that I know of. I suppose there might be private groups in some of the academies . . .” She trailed off, her eyes going kind of vacant as she searched her memory.

“You see? Tomorrow you’ll be busy cheering for me in the arena, and who knows what’ll happen after that. Let’s at least stop by.” Victor dashed across the busy street that ran alongside the arena, trying to follow Gorz’s instructions to the guild house Livag had told them about.

“This way, Gorz?” he asked, turning up a less crowded, upward-sloping lane. Gorz didn’t reply at first, so he repeated the question.

“Yes, that’s correct, Victor.”

“You okay, buddy?”

“I feel the same as when we last spoke. When was that? It feels like years . . .”

“Gorz, I asked you for directions about ten minutes ago.”

“My apologies. How strange . . .”

“Something wrong?” Valla asked, and Victor realized he’d been scowling while he spoke to the amulet.

“Yeah, actually. The spirit in my amulet, you know, the one that memorizes maps and documents and, well, everything—he’s kind of losing it. He feels like he’s being pulled, like his bindings to the amulet are fading, and every time I speak to him, he acts like it’s been years.”

“I’m no Artificer, but maybe we could visit one here that might be able to help.”

“Not a bad idea at all. We should do some shopping here, anyway—I imagine, in a world with so many high-tier Energy users, shops like that are going to have some good magical items for sale.”

The road they were walking along was less busy than the other streets they’d visited, and Victor noted that the architecture was starting to look a little more refined. Tall, more delicate structures with towers capped with colorful tile became more and more common, and Victor noted that none of them were sized for the Degh giants.

“Seems like a wealthier part of the city,” Valla said, echoing his thoughts.

“Yeah, and maybe older? Livag said this wasn’t a Degh city, so maybe that’s why this section doesn’t have buildings sized for them.”

“Perhaps. We’re climbing upward, so you would presume the city started up this way, and as it expanded, it stretched down the hill and into the surrounding country.” Valla turned back and gestured the way they’d come, and it was evident they’d gained a lot of altitude, more than Victor had realized. The tops of buildings and tightly packed streets stretched out below them for miles, right up to the edge of the enormous walls that surrounded the city.

“How many streets have we passed since we started up this one?”

“Four, I think. No, five,” Valla said, looking back the way they’d come again.

“Okay, the guild’s supposed to be up around the next corner on the left.” Victor led the way, turning past a storefront displaying beautifully woven rugs, then down a broad avenue with very light traffic. The pedestrians in the area were almost all Vesh, though a few of the snake people, the Yazzians, walked here and there in their typical hooded robes woven from muted earth-toned fabrics. “Gorz? The Elementalist Guild’s on this street, right?”

“Victor! Are you still seeking that guild? My instructions must have been unclear; my apologies. From the corner, it’s supposed to be the seventh building on the left.”

“Thanks, Gorz, and your instructions are fine.” Victor wanted to tell him it had only been a few minutes since he last spoke to him, but he was starting to feel like a broken record. It didn’t seem to do any good to remind the amulet of the correct passage of time.

He continued walking, looking back to count the buildings he’d passed, and when he came to the seventh structure, he stopped and looked at the tall brick wall with wrought iron arches and gates. The central gate was open on one side, so he started forward, hoping to get a better look at the building.

A gust of air rushed up before him, creating a sort of swirling curtain of air that reminded Victor of a dust devil, though with less dirt. Unlike a dust devil, it didn’t move, hanging in the air before him. A crackling, electric voice said, “Hold, stranger! I detect no elemental Energy at your Core.”

“Uh . . .” Victor grunted, backing up a step, not sure what to say.

“I seek entry,” Valla said, stepping forward, and again the voice crackled out of the swirling wind, “You may pass, Elementalist.”

“May I bring my companion?”

“You are permitted a guest. Hostilities will not be tolerated within,” the voice said, its weird, static-like nature giving Victor goosebumps at the nape of his neck.

“Understood,” Valla replied, and the wind suddenly died away, leaving a clear passage through the arched gateway to the stone paved walkway that led to the tall, narrow brick structure within. Victor counted the stories as he followed Valla through the courtyard, coming up with six distinct sets of windows. The peaked gables at the top were capped in brilliant turquoise tiles.

Victor allowed his eyes to drift down and noticed that all the shrubs and flower bushes in the garden were manicured into the shapes of wild creatures. Fountains burbled welcomingly, and, to his amazement, Victor saw one fountain’s water rise up from the placid pool in its base and take the shapes of a pair of dancing, translucent people. “Pretty cool,” he said, jostling Valla’s shoulder and pointing.

“Beautiful,” she breathed, a rare smile touching her lips. Then she turned and climbed the short flight of stairs to the canopy-covered front doors of the building, and when she reached for the handle, they opened inward, seemingly at their own impetus. Victor followed her into the foyer of the building, where a broad, gleaming hardwood floor led into a vaulted, round room with hallways leading off in every direction. An intricately carved spiral staircase led up to the exposed landings of the upper levels, its wood made to look like flowering vines, branches, and roots.

A young woman wearing pale yellow robes approached them from one of the side passages, and though she was clearly a Vesh with a pair of short, ivory horns, she reminded Victor of one of his old classmates—Sierra Harwick. She looked so much like her that Victor felt struck by deja vu, and for a heartbeat, his mind skipped back to the last time he’d been in school, and he felt perplexed and lost—like when a person wakes up in a strange bed, momentarily forgetting how they’d gotten there.

“Welcome,” the woman said, pressing her hands together and bowing slightly as she walked toward them. Her attention was wholly on Valla.

“Thank you,” Valla replied.

“How can we help you today, Mistress? Are you seeking to join the ranks of the Elementalist Guild?”

“Perhaps, though, I primarily came here for advice. I’m new to this world and understand that there’s much I could learn from the masters here.” Valla’s diction never failed to impress Victor, and he stood quietly, sure he’d say the wrong thing or be kicked out if he interrupted.

“Ah! So low? By tier-five, your Core should be in the advanced stages.” Those words caused Valla’s eyes to widen, and Victor felt his own heart start to beat as a bit of panic touched his mind—he felt like he was listening to a teacher explaining how he should have mastered College Algebra a long time ago. “You’ll want to really work on that. Buy Core enhancements, spend time cultivating,” he paused and then continued, his voice stern and emphasizing his words, “much more time than you spend on swordwork!”

“Aren’t weapon skills important . . .”

“Of course, but with your affinities, you’ll be able to enhance your weapon skills far beyond what you can do with natural skills.”

“Really? The impression I got from Elementalists back home was that iron and air were a terrible pair, that they conflict.”

Troft looked at Valla, raising his eyebrows, and then he laughed, a deep rich belly laugh. He leaned back in his chair and seemed to give in to it, literally holding his sides and laughing until tears sprang from his eyes. Victor couldn’t help smiling with him, and though he didn’t know what was funny, a chuckle of his own escaped his lips, breaking his silent streak.

Valla didn’t laugh. She didn’t even smile. She frowned at Victor, then at Troft, and said, “I wish I knew what was funny.”

“Oh dear,” Troft said, wiping at his cheeks and finally calming enough to speak, “I’m sorry, but that was the first good laugh I’ve had in years, and I wanted to embrace it.”

Valla stared at him until he continued, “The Elementalists on your world are either lying to you, or you’ve only spoken to abject idiots.”

“Oh?” Valla’s frown began to fade.

“Yes! Iron and air are a powerful combination of affinities. I’ve a dozen spells I could teach you that use both elements to great effect. Do you not know how to weave your air affinity into electricity?”

“Weave it into . . .” Valla said softly, absently scratching at one pale green eyebrow. “I’ve been taught that if I wanted to weave my Energies, I would have to weave iron with air and that it was impossible because they are opposing elements.”

“Gods! Is that true? Are they really so backward?” Troft leaned forward and took Valla’s hand, “Iron is an excellent match for an air affinity, but first, you must convert the form of your air energy into electricity. It’s really not hard, Valla. I know a spell that will grant your sword tremendous speed and enhance its damage. There’s a spell that will let you warp from one part of a battlefield to another. Both use air-attuned Energy but in the form of electricity. Just as a water affinity can take the form of ice or mist, and earth can take the shape of stone or soil, so too can air take the shape of electricity. You didn’t know this?”

“I . . .” Valla started to say, then shook her head and continued, “I’m a fool. I know there are mages that cast lightning spells and that they have air affinities. I never learned them, and I never thought to try changing the shape of my Energy to mix it with my iron affinity. I was warned off mixing air with iron, but I should have pursued it further. I should have spoken to more experts.”

“Tut, don’t be hard on yourself, youngster. It sounds to me that the people in your life who had an influence over you were steering you away from such things, no? I’m sure you’d have figured things out eventually; I’m just glad I could help you avoid some painful mistakes going forward.” He watched as Valla’s frown deepened, but she nodded, and Victor knew what she was thinking—for all her help and guidance, Rellia had messed Valla up by pushing her to master the sword and forego the other aspects of her affinities.

“What must I do to learn some of your spells, Master Troft?” Valla asked, her voice quiet but determined.

“I’ll give you two things for free, Valla. I’ll show you the weave to turn air into electricity, and I’ll give you one spell. After that, if you want more teaching, I’ll need something from you.”

“What do . . .” Valla started to ask, but Master Troft held up a hand, and she stopped speaking.

“Don’t worry about what my fee might be, not yet. Master what I give you; if you want more, we can speak. I think this will keep you busy for a long while because just knowing how to make electricity from your air affinity will allow you to alter the skills and spells you already know. Oh, dear! I said I was only going to give you two things, and here I am giving you clues to pursue so many more . . .” He chuckled as Valla’s eyes widened. Victor couldn’t help himself and bumped an elbow into Valla’s shoulder, grinning like a fool at her good news.

Valla ignored Victor and stood, bowing before the Elementalist and saying, “Thank you very much, Master Troft.”

“You’re quite welcome, Valla. How would it look if I didn’t help a young Elementalist, the first visitor I know of from a new world? Wait here, won’t you? I’ll have one of my assistants write out the weave and the spell pattern. Come back and let me know when you’ve mastered them.” With that, he stood, patted Valla in a comradely fashion on the shoulder, and exited the way he’d come.

“That’s some pretty cool shit,” Victor said when they were alone. “You never knew you could make electricity from air?”

“I knew it, but I thought it had to do with the spells you cast; all the spells I learned used simple air-attuned Energy.” She looked at Victor and said, “What about you? Are there other forms of your affinities?”

“Yeah, I think so. I mean, I know so—I can twist my inspiration-attuned Energy into discouragement.” Victor’s eyes squinted as his thoughts began to race, “I never thought about it, but I wonder if I can twist rage into the opposite form like that? What the fuck would it be anyway? What’s the opposite of rage? Peace?”

“I don’t know . . . happiness?” Valla shrugged. “I think you should do some experimenting when we have some time. I’ll have plenty to keep me busy, it sounds like.” Victor nodded, still deep in thought and only half registering her words.

He thought about how he’d used his inspiration-attuned Energy when he cast Project Spirit; Victor had never been taught any sort of pattern to twist it the way he did. In a way, it was instinctual. Something told him twisting rage in a similar way wouldn’t be so easy. When he projected rage, he stripped out aspects of it, taking away the benefits to strength and healing, but it was still rage.

They both sat quietly, lost in their own thoughts, until the door opened, and Ry stepped through, holding two tightly-bound paper scrolls. “Lady, the master sends these with his compliments. I’m instructed to let you know that you’re welcome here any time and that he wishes you great success.”

“Thank you,” Valla said, standing up and accepting the two scrolls.

“Now, allow me to show you out,” Ry said, moving to the exit and pulling open the door. “The stairway is just down the hallway to the right.”

When Victor and Valla descended the grand staircase, Valla was deep in thought, and Victor spent time ogling the architecture—the high, arched windows, the beautifully carved wood, from the balustrade to the lintels to the doors themselves, and the way the space just seemed so grand, so vast. He wondered if the building was larger inside than outside, and he chuckled, “Of course it is,” he said, remembering that it was the home of a guild of powerful wizards.

Camia greeted them at the bottom of the stairs and asked, “Was Master Troft able to help you?”

“Very much so,” Valla said, nodding. “Thank you, Camia.”

“You’re quite welcome! You should know I’ve earned several merits with the guild for my assistance to you. So, it’s you I should be thanking for the opportunity.” Camia smiled broadly as she spoke and opened the front door for them.

“Oh?” Valla said as they exited. “An intriguing system.”

Victor couldn’t help himself and said, “Nice to meet you, Camia,” on his way out. The woman smiled and nodded at him, and that was that; they were outside, and Camia had closed the door behind them. Valla didn’t linger, walking straight down the path, out the gate, and then finally turning to Victor.

“That was nerve-wracking. Thank you for accompanying me.”

“It was? I thought it was pretty relaxing. I didn’t know you were stressing out.”

“Well, I was. I’ve avoided seeking help from mages in the past. I think the news I’ve gotten through Rellia’s ‘experts’ dissuaded me on the subject. I’ve focused on swordwork because that’s where my talent seemed to be, but I’ve worried it was a great mistake which made me fear I’d hear some bad news in there,” she gestured toward the Elementalist Guild. “I was afraid they’d say something that would destroy any hopes I’ve been harboring in here.” She touched her chest over her heart.

“Well, I’m glad it was good news,” Victor said, surprising himself with a yawn and stretching. “Guess we’re about out of time,” he pointed to the orange sky in the west where the sun was setting. “Dinner time, soon. What do you think we should wear?”