Marvelling at the gorgeous display forming, disappearing, and then reforming over and over again made the time in line fly by.
My reverence growing ever deeper, the song echoes eloquently inside my head. How can I touch this too? I want it more than anything I’ve seen or smelled before. I’m called to it from somewhere deep inside, and it also demands me back. Exactly as I demand it!
“Ew, that’s awful,” the front man exclaims, grimacing. “Where do you want to go? I need to get rid of you as fast as possible.”
Hearing the question, I meekly offer up the piece of wood and package still cupped in my cloak.
“Ugh, I have to touch you?” the front man complains, taking the wood to review for a moment before tossing it back. “Ok, Vastra. That’s 30 copper.”
Thinking for a moment, I remember the pouch the giant gave me. Taking it off my belt and dropping it to the ground, I then step back to reveal it from under my cloak.
“Well, weirdo anti-social behavior, but at least I don’t have to get near you again. Here you go.”
Again, another spacial rift forms. This time, I eagerly amble inside, ready to take in the experience more consciously. However, it’s over as soon as it starts. Everything around me simply changes all at once. It’s still disorienting, but less so than the first time since I expected this.
Despite the disappointing travel experience, it feels so good to be back in known territory. Back down to the sewers and out of the daylight, and then I’ll finally get some res–
“Child!” a booming voice calls from amongst the aimless crowd.
Obediently, I lower my head and scurry over. Knowing how easily he can catch me, I shouldn’t run away.
“Good, child,” the giant says after taking everything held out in my cloak. “One less headache for Garvin.”
He then loosens a pouch from his waist and tosses it to me.
“Not dragging ya feet is extra. Reliable lil’ brat, ya are.”
The giant’s use for me apparently over, he heads back into the crowd of waiting aimless ones. With a now practiced ease, I slip into the closest alley and down into a rat hole, descending back into my wonderful home.
Relief! Removing my cloak and belt, I store everything away. The pouch that the giant gave me is only filled with more of these stupid coins. Are they useful in mixing somehow? I don’t understand why everyone seems to want them. Curious, I place one in my mouth and bite it. The metal bends a bit against my tooth and the bitter blast of copper on my tongue is disgusting. If it’s meant as medicine, then the flavor is awful. Whatever. It goes into the treasure pile until I can figure out something better to do with it.
Truly worn out from being forced to work so long during the day, I curl up in the sludge to sleep. Sadly, it’s no mud. At least it lends a somewhat nostalgic feel and smell.
As my consciousness drifts away, it’s as though it’s getting slurped down through my mind mud. First passing the expected dirt and grime, it then gives way to a dawn blue sky and playful, wispy clouds. A morning mist gathers outside below the window, blocking the view of the city. However, there’s still plenty of time left for it to turn into a good day.
“Sir, the preparations are complete,” a soft, respectful voice behind me whispered.
“I’ll be right there,” the now instantly familiar man replied.
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
Turning from the window, he calmly heads through a pair of nearby double doors down the hall.
“Honorable members, I am told everyone has arrived?”
A table full of seated big ones murmurs their agreement, shuffling nervously in their seats.
“Why have you gathered us here?” one of the seated big ones demanded. “We all have more pressing concerns of our own to tend to in the towns.”
“Yes, a courier would have sufficed,” another seated big one added. “Having us all here at once is wasteful. What if a town’s attacked in our absence? You risk all we’ve built for some asinine display of strength?”
“Good sir, we will certainly be notified if that comes to pass,” the familiar man studiously replied, practically boiling over with an extraordinary confidence. “If it does, then I shall immediately port everyone to the threat in order to provide aid. Your obligations are far more safely assured in my presence here than anywhere else in Kyklos.”
This seems to shut the crowd up. Whether it’s because they’ve been comforted or are simply fearful of the speaker, I can’t tell. Cowards.
“Regardless of the security situation, the guild has requested this meeting before we move forward.”
“Since when does the guild care about politics?” another complainer quipped.
“Since we finished preparations for the final Anatoly campaign.”
The seated big ones abruptly hush their running, mumbling complaining in response to the sudden defiant statement. Now having their rapt attention, the familiar man continued his speech while counting off the fingers on his outstretched hand for each point.
“We have secured and studied ‘Richter’s occult philosophy’ from the leviathon’s dungeon. We have met with the revered monastic elder, braving his deep isolation, in order to check our interpretations of the text. We have also verified that my spacial skills are sufficient to transport a significant party straight into Anatoly’s domain without instant, permanent death.”
Briefly, he pauses his counting for effect.
“And finally, I have been tested and acknowledged.”
“Acknowledged?!” the table exclaimed, devolving into confused expressions and the frothy, wild whispers of overlapping discussions.
“Silence!” the familiar man shouted, forcefully taking back the attention of those attending, before lifting some kind of metal necklace into the air with his hand. “This token represents the will of status. Appraise it and see for yourselves.”
The table again voraciously murmurs amongst themselves, expressing shock and doubt. However, whatever it is that they’re witnessing on the presented item, I can’t replicate it. I still can’t move, can’t turn my eyes, can’t force an appraisal. I’m stuck.
“None of the town lords or their representatives need to take any action. However, do note that this is privileged information. It is only offered at the demand of the guild and expected to remain under the strictest commitment to silence.”
For the briefest of moments, everyone at the table synchronized on smiles. Visible relief sank into their bodies, sagging into the seats or resting their head and hands on the table.
“That’s right, sirs. It’s almost time that we all return ho–”
“Sir! Linus!” a new figure urgently shouted as he smashed through the closed doors and into the room. “There’s a hoard outside! We received no warning. It’s enormous!”
The previously calmed crowd tensed, incredibly agitated at the news.
“Was this really a trap, Linus? You act to betray us all?”
“No!” the familiar man shouted down the objector, gritting his teeth. “I will pull in the necessary forces waiting on standby. You are all guaranteed safety under my hospitality.”
Extending his hands, I grow excited seeing space begin to twist and tear. The result of his magic having become my sole, obsessive focus, the rest of the room disappears as time slows down.
Flow. Burst. Form. Grab. Te–
My head sharply aches on the final note of the song. I can’t hold focus, and everything slips back to a normal speed. The previously forming tear completely collapses.
“What in the world…” the familiar man whispers out loud in shock before rapidly attempting to reform the tear.
Flow. Burst. Form. Grab. Te–
Flow. Burst. Form. Grab. Te–
Flow. Burst. Form. Grab. Te–
My head’s pounding from the repeated dissonant, beating drum of the final note. The room grows even more anxious as they watch, and the familiar man himself now also looks extremely worried.
“Call the strategy team. They must discuss and execute all options. Diggers, port forcing, fliers, whispered calls for nearby aid. Anything and everything they can come up with, no matter how dangerous. Tell them it’s critical tier 1. I’m going to the wall to assess and defend. Notify me as anything changes.”
