Fluid - 16

The pronouncements from Nikias and Myrto keep a grip on the room for several chords. I catch the slightest smile from Yngvarr, but his focus doesn't shift from Imhotep, who doesn’t seem to take their rejection of the guild well. Imhotep’s energy starts to flare, but Yngvarr’s strength rises to meet it, causing Mana to coil invisibly around them before Imhotep breaks off and fixes his gaze deliberately on me. From the energy’s feel, either could flatten the village, but they're weaker than I’d expected from powerful wizards.

My family has truly distorted my perspective of normal.

Ignoring Imhotep, I focus on a more important issue. “Myrto, why are you calling me Lady Gailneth? I said it's fine to call me Gail.”

Yngvarr chuckles lightly at my protest.

“You asked us to call you Gail. I recall nothing about not using a title when conversing about you,” counters Myrto before turning to address Imhotep. “Might I share some information Priestess Irene asked me to convey while Lady Gailneth refurbished and extended Lady Hestia’s Temple?”

Imhotep gives a tight nod, his tone flat and cold. “Of course.”

That flat politeness makes it clear he isn’t interested and makes me wonder why Irene bothered. Myrto’s smile is beyond mere politeness, her eyes aglow with amusement.

“Priestess Irene and I had the privilege of meeting Lady Hestia today due to Lady Gailneth’s request. My Goddess spoke of her with respect and affection, which Priestess Irene suggests is something to consider in your deliberations. Regardless of your opinion, the Church of Hestia considers her our ally and will support her.”

A twist at the corner of his mouth is the only reaction to the news they’d met their Goddess today. Yet the cold, mocking attitude with which he greets her announcement only broadens Myrto’s smile.

Imhotep, now intent on ignoring Myrto, turns back to me. “How many changes have you made to the village? I thought we’d discussed the process for future changes.”

“Are we waiting for Esdras or just barging right in? After all, some of it might be context the meditator needs,” comments Yngvarr.

Folding my hands in my lap, I shrug, and Yngvarr sends off additional messages informing Phile and Androkles that Esdras would arrive to act as a meditator shortly. It's tempting to send messages to let them know I expect to be at Zosime’s shortly.

Imhotep’s attitude has already put a few things in place for me.

Imhotep is, as my Aunt Sarah puts it, a control freak. He was fine controlling the situation I caused by repairing the wall because it kept him and the guild in control; both in controlling the situation's appearance and setting the rules for me. It’s clear I’ve messed up, but he’s more interested in controlling the situation than working with me.

I don’t know what Tove said to him and Nanoĸ last night, but it must have made it clear Imhotep wasn’t in control of her or me. If that is the case, then were his actions an attempt to belittle me and provide self-justification while resuming control?

How had I completely missed the cues? I’ve been keeping Resonance mostly restrained but haven’t done enough to pick up the slack observing.

Esdras doesn’t keep us waiting long, his youthful face splitting into a wide grin when he enters the room. The expression emphasises his sharp features as his topaz-coloured eyes gleam with interest while he regards me. The heavy counter at his shop had detracted from the bulk of his Human form. Height-wise he’s slightly shorter than me, but his broad muscularity would make two of me.

“Do you accept the position of meditator for this discussion, Esdras?” asks Imhotep once the door closes, without even waiting until Esdras sits.

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t, but since you want the formality: I accept and will endeavour to keep a neutral stance in finding your common ground or determining the required restitution.”

When Yngvarr stands to let Esdras take his seat, I restore the one I removed back to the table’s far end. Esdras smiles at me and takes the spot, waving Yngvar to sit as he does so.

As soon as he’s seated, Esdras looks between us. “Now, what matters do we have for settlement or witnessing?”

Imhotep glanced at Yngvarr, but when he kept silent, Imhotep spoke up. “The Guildhall situation, Gailneth’s team’s status, and the alterations she’s made to the village.”

“Any objections if they’re taken in that order?” asks Esdras dryly.

When I shake my head, Imhotep intones his agreement. “None”

Esdras nods and gets down to business. “I’d like to clarify the issue with the Guildhall. I understand Gailneth caused the change last night. Rumours were flowing thick and fast, saying necromancy and death magic was involved, as were perhaps demonic rites. Which, I believe we can all agree, is nonsense. Does anyone wish to discuss those rumours?”

“I sustained some injuries and bled while saving Nikias' life, which likely fueled the rumours,” I offer.

Esdras nods. “A seed of truth as in all stupid rumours. What does saving Nikias have to do with the Guildhall’s appearance?”

“He’d twice offered an Oath of service to me if I’d allow him to join my team. I didn’t refute the need for him to do so. When I offered him the position, he experienced a Class vision and received access to classes I would have expected to be restricted to my species. It took dramatic efforts to provide his Soul with enough energy to avoid the change consuming him, and the excess bled into the stonework.”

Esdras looks Nikias over, and I hear his draconic senses taking in the changes and raw potential within him.

“Goodness, you've certainly changed, boy. Can others swearing an Oath also gain such classes?”

“Nikias received one of those golden script notifications when he woke up. He was told the loophole that provided him access has now been closed.”

“The God of Knowledge sent you a message, Nikias?” Esdras asks, absently tugging at his goatee.

“Yes, Esdras. He told me to inform Lady Gailneth they’d no longer be available to those outside her species. Even when I saw the classes in my vision, I felt that the time to take them was limited and seized them,” explains Nikias.

“Many will be envious of you, Nikias. I hope you do much with them. Very well, the dramatic efforts caused two planes' energies to bleed into the building?”

“Three, the Outland’s Spire as well,” I correct.

Esdras accepts my information with a nod. “Interesting, I’d never heard that the spire was a separate Plane. Was anyone or anything affected outside Gailneth’s injuries and Nikias' transformation?”

Imhotep takes Esdras’ knowledge at face value, but it has Yngvarr regarding him carefully.

“The Guildhall’s appearance has caused disruption. There are issues with potential dangers and putting off those needing jobs posted,” grumbles Imhotep in frustration. “Some adventurers were leery of entering the building this morning.”

“That means there was no direct impact other than some minor disruption imposed on people needing spines,” drawls Esdras. “What impact have the energies had on the building?”

“There are eight hidden floors attached to the building,” I say, and both Imhotep and Yngvar look at me in surprise. “They have access restrictions associated with them. More a timer than anything else, tied to the movements of Mechanus’ gears that appeared in the stone.”

Esdras regards the gears nearby, his nostrils twitching as if he wants to inhale their scent. “What can you tell us of those restrictions?”

“Dormitory seems constantly connected but limits a person’s presence to a half day‌. The Beastlands’ Annex only links to the stairs two days out of ten. The mechanised training ground links via a basement area three-quarters of a day at a time.”

“If they are all just time limits, perhaps just list the other floors,” injects Esdras. “Though I’d like to know more later.”

Nodding, I store the music I'd written out before continuing. “An auditorium that seats thousands. A floor of metal crafting workshops with tools suitable for a Grand Master. There is also a Shrine of Knowledge, Hall of the Dead, and Field of War.”

Imhotep coughs when I mention the last, and I continue before he protests. “It's a combative training ground. Any ‘killing’ blow merely incapacitates and drops an unconscious ‘corpse’ in the foyer.”

“Will you be charging the guild to provide them access to these facilities?” asks Esdras after he considers my information.

“What?” barks Imhotep. “They’re part of the Guildhall now, so they’re under the guild’s purview.”

“You asked me to be the meditator, and I don’t see it that way,” critiques Esdras. “Or did you have access to these facilities and regions previously?”

“No.”

“Then, they are like tools Gailneth has left inside the Guildhall, not objects owned by the guild. I saw new flights of stairs and doors marking their boundaries, so there is a clear property division. It would be like saying someone building a house next to yours automatically places their dwelling under your control,” states Esdras. “The staircase has extended beyond its previous height, so the access points aren’t even part of the Guildhall's construction. When are those last three floors accessible, Gailneth?”

“They’re spaced out on a long circuit. I think it will be at least another week before the first shows, and then I’ll be able to tell you their frequency. There is a crystal to Gideon in the shrine that feels like it will answer one question for a person, but there is a cost associated. Hall of the Dead is a mortuary space to entomb the deceased, and its energies feel restful. I doubt any necromancy will work within. It's touched by Eleftherios, and he ‌doesn’t tolerate undead near him now. As for the Field of War, it seems a shifting space wrapped in fog to simulate unpredictable conditions.”

Yngvarr frowned thoughtfully, but before he could say anything, Imhotep jumped in. “You’ve treated this village like a toy to change at your whim without guild permission.”

“The guildhall was a side effect of saving Nikias’ life, not a whim. Besides the misunderstanding with the village wall—which was rotting—the changes are from individuals hiring me. I fixed the cove, built Lerina’s Temple, and refurbished Hestia’s Temple while extending their living space. I’ve also started a library at Hestia’s temple that I’ll be extending, though it’s currently just texts on Oceania and Laurelin.”

The deluge of details side-tracks him, and he grabs at the last word.

“Laurelin?” asks Imhotep.

His puzzlement is too delightful to resist, and I get flippant. “Don’t you know of it? The Plane contains the domains of Lerina and Hestia; my family is quite involved with them.”

Yngvarr keeps his amusement contained except for a touch of merriment in his gaze.

“You don’t worship elven gods?” splutters Imhotep.

“My family is involved, but I don’t worship any God. I revere the concept of Good or Light, depending on how you want to view it. If someone’s efforts bring more Good into the realm, I’m happy to assist. If their efforts are hurtful, misguided, or malicious, I’ll oppose them in whatever way I can,” I declare.

Imhotep’s need to categorise and control rears its head, and his gaze is intelligent rather than purely hostile. “Your Solar Emissary class?”

“Is completely off-topic, and I’m only answering that question to clarify my position."

"Noted," confirms Esdras. "Individual credentials are important."

"The Solar Emissary comes in part from my dedication to that viewpoint. Consider me a missionary for the promotion of good deeds—helping good people and calling those who’ve done ill to account for misdeeds. I know it doesn’t make me infallible, but I’m not being malicious when I make a mistake."

“You-”

I never expected to tire of anyone, but I’m tired of him. I’d leave, but Esdras is here, so I present myself for his benefit. Otherwise Imhotep will have a greater claim that I was unreasonable.

“You should consider when we started to clash, Guild Master Imhotep, because I've already considered the implications of both our behaviours,” I interject. “I apologise if my use of the guild’s facilities after hours was unsuitable, but entering the Guildhall last night wasn’t my primary focus. It was to check on Nikias. While Tove was considerate in tending to him, he still needed new clothing. After checking on Nikias, I needed the facilities and needed to bathe. The room was empty, so I set up the bath you confronted me in.”

“You broke in.”

Imhotep's tone is almost a growl again, and my lips purse at the sourness of his attitude.

“The wards let me in. I am a paid-up guild member and this is a Guildhall, not your home. Why can't members use folding cots since you’re allowed to sleep here? The inn’s overcrowded state is appalling,” I continue before addressing Yngvar. “Don’t some guildhalls have dormitories? There are plenty of rooms in here left empty at night.”

“Some do,” agrees Yngvarr, and Imhotep reluctantly nods.

“I’d say we’re getting off point, but this all relates to the Guildhall, and you seem to have a grievance beyond its state, Imhotep. Is there a guild rule about members not being allowed within a hall after a certain time of day?” asks Esdras.

“No fixed rule of the guild,” admits Imhotep. “It depends on the guild’s local situation.”

“Did you clarify the Guildhall was off limits after hours when I joined?” I ask, trying to keep my tone casual. I don’t want to turn the knife, but I’m done with him. Attempting to see this through politely wouldn’t have cost us anything besides a little effort, but he’s been rude.

“The wards keep out intruders at night.”

“Yes, intruders. Nikias was in here, and ‌I wanted to ensure he was okay and deliver clothing. The wards let me in since I had a token. I didn’t know storing the token away would change their mind. Better wards track who enters and leaves,” I counter and let out a calming breath before I continue.

“You still broke in. I know I locked the door,” growls Imhotep.

“No house where I grew up has locks; there are latches for privacy at most. How about we chalk it up to a misunderstanding and come to a peaceful understanding since it physically harmed no one? I’m sure you have additional wards in your private rooms, and I didn't even leave the ground floor. Though I would suggest reconsidering the restriction on evening access to the Guildhall‌.”

“Why should I? Because you say so?” snaps Imhotep. "I want a better explanation of your classes' benefits and purpose. Royalty? You certainly have the arrogance for it."

“Did you tell her the Guildhall wasn’t available in the evenings?” asks Esdras, diplomatically heading off my slapping him with the obvious.

“No-”

Esdras doesn’t give him time to continue, “Are you aware elves only require three hours rest a day?”

“Yes,” hisses Imhotep, and I wonder why he couldn’t remain the reasonable man he seemed to be when we first met. Why does he need to control and categorise me?

“Their communities ignore night and day cycles since they can see in the dark. Informing a newly arrived Elf of evening restrictions would seem sensible, especially if they aren’t consistent with other guildhalls,” says Esdras.

Esdras’ hidden delight shows he’s not exactly a neutral meditator, despite being Imhotep's choice.

“Might I point out I only said you should reconsider the rule, not that you had to change it. As I mentioned earlier, there is a dormitory among the new floors. Why are you upset about the Guildhall’s state with so much to study and learn?”

“I find it unsettling, and no, the rule won’t be reconsidered. Why would anyone want to use the dormitory in this place? Even if it is stable; and concerning that assertion, I’ll point out that her say so isn’t proof of anything,” snaps Imhotep.

“Fine, another option is I remove all the Planar energies. It will require some preparation work, but it's completely achievable. You can even have your Guildhall back exactly as it was before my arrival,” I state, and with that, I set my token on the table. “Exactly as it was before I arrived.”

“You’re bluffing,” scoffs Imhotep. “While I’m sure you don’t care about the fee, four senior guild members are your friends and you expect me to believe you’ll walk away after joining? The rules ban probationary members that leave for any reason from ever rejoining. I've not agreed to lift your probationary status.”

“You couldn’t beg me to rejoin if you speak for the guild. My friends' choices aren’t my own—I’ll happily respect them, but I've ceased to possess any respect for you. I’ve options besides being a guild member.”

“I think the guild will lose a lot more than you realise if you send Gail on her way, Guild Master Imhotep,” cautions Yngvarr.

His tone has anger burning in Imhotep's gaze again, and this time he doesn't look away from Yngvarr. “Aren’t you here as the guild investigator, not her advocate?”

“I am a guild investigator, which applies to this discussion. Gail provided more details than I had determined so far, but those areas where I had made determinations match her statements,” counters Yngvarr. “Since you didn’t want me as a meditator, I’ll settle for advising you. You should know Gail’s family doesn’t settle for half-measures with helping allies. Gail, would you provide an example of how useful dealing fairly with you could be?”

His question has me snorting in amusement, and I lift a finger when Imhotep goes to interject. “The cove and temples aren’t enough proof?”

“For myself and others, they are, but please humour me,” requests Yngvarr. “It doesn’t have to be large; perhaps something that assists in resolving any concerning guild issues you’ve seen.”

There is an edge to his voice, making me wonder what games are being played: guild politics, personal interest in True Song, or something else?

“Only because I think the guild has problems that could become a source of evil if left unchecked,” I say, and when Imhotep goes to interject again, I get in first. “How many deaths has Kyros’ team suffered? What caused them? Have you gotten an honest answer from them about each event?”

Imhotep’s lips tighten, and he directs the outrage and wounded pride in his gaze directly at me. Oh, did I imply he lacks proper control over his members? Tsk, I’m so rude.

Setting a palm size block of crystal Aunt Am gave me on the table, I impress a harsh song within it. Once complete, it emits a soft white light, the crystal’s nature sustaining the song with minimal drain on its structure. “On my first day here, Nanoĸ said the guild knows it has rotten apples that it's still working to remove. Just touching this crystal will burn anyone dedicated to a malicious deity, regardless of spells concealing said dedication. Likewise, being in contact with it and telling an explicit lie will also burn. The degree of either burn will depend on the dedication or the lie.”

“There is no Mana in that either,” states Imhotep, but before he can say more, he cuts himself off.

“What were you about to demand this time?” I grumble, having caught the demand forming.

With Yngvarr glaring at him, Imhotep clears his throat instead. “Would you demonstrate its effectiveness, Gail?”

“That’s the politest you’ve been today, yet still no please, even when asking me to suffer an injury. The truth isn’t a toy. You asked for a demonstration without getting information about what sort of burn it would cause someone who lied. The gentlest it will be is like being scalded by boiling water.”

“And we’re just meant to believe you?” scoffs Imhotep.

“Guild Investigator Yngvarr, please convey my objections about Guild Master Imhotep’s continued behaviour to the guild’s council.”

He protests, but I touch the crystal’s surface and get in first. “My hair is green.”

There is a flash and the smell of heated air and burnt skin. Lifting my fingers lets them see the already blistering burn before it fades. I’ve already had enough, and since the wards allow for spells teleporting inside if not through them, I start a song. The slippery notes I form under my breath using Silent Song don’t distract me.

“The burn isn’t permanent?” asks Esdras, his eyes remaining on my fingers until the mark is gone.

“I heal fast, but others would need an ointment even for that lie. Wait, you’ve only my word for it,” I say and turn to give Imhotep a bright smile. “And something else to consider. Do you think your goatee is just dyed?”

“That contributes to my concerns over your presence. There are now two individuals whose age you’ve affected in the village. Many might fight to gain possession of someone able to do so, and others will get caught in the middle,” replies Imhotep.

Putting my hand on the crystal again, the lack of warmth in my smile doesn’t feel alien.

“You’re a paranoid, ungrateful individual. I easily gave you an extra twenty or more years of life, and you want to keep complaining about what might be. Well, you’ve now lost my help. After we talked about the wall, I looked forward to working with you, but that’s no longer the case. I’ll still help and protect the villagers whenever I’m present.”

None of those statements draws a reaction from the crystal. Flicking the crystal to Yngvarr, I press down hard on the edge of the guild token, causing it to hop and clatter across the table. It’s still spinning when I stand.

“I’ll remove the planar energy from the Guildhall as soon as possible. My team’s status is no longer the guild’s concern. Though I fixed the village wall for free, the rest of the alterations were for individuals that hired me and not the guild’s concern. Do you believe restitution is required, ‌Meditator Esdras?”

“The guild will need to pay you if they keep that crystal,” replies Esdras. “I’ll let you know whatever compensation I extract from the guild after you’ve completed the removal.”

“Extract from us?” scoffs Imhotep.

Rolling his eyes at Imhotep’s incredulous tone, Esdras gives him a grim look. “I recognise the crystal Gailneth provided a guild representative at their request. We could sell everything in this village and not have enough to buy it, even without the enchantment. Guild rules require fair weregild, and the balance is currently massively in Gailneth’s favour regarding a debt being owed.”

Imhotep went to interject, and Esdras raised a hand. “Do you have proof the facilities you will lose are a detriment?”

“If Gailneth can wait until we complete the hunt in the Beastlands Annex, the guild will be a fair number of platinum coins ahead, just considering the usual commission for the sale of materials,” states Yngvarr.

“Preparation is required, but don't allow anyone else inside the floors. Esdras, is there a section of useless land I can purchase from the village? Big enough for a large building? I’d like to effect the removal as soon as possible.”

Esdras’ brows lift. “There are some rocky locations with limited usefulness for farming. You intend to keep these facilities within the village?”

"They'll no longer be accessible to the guild or its members without cost. Instead, I'll rent them out and tithe the village. I will insist the tithe I provide is allocated to village improvements, not merely returned to the guild."

Myrto rises with a distinctly smug smile in place. I’ll have to ask if there are issues between the church and the Adventurers’ Guild, or just local ones with Imhotep. Though I'm tempted to ask Imhotep his problem, I release the song I’ve held, teleporting the three of us through the wards. Arriving in Zosime’s backyard. I feel split, as while I'm glad to leave Yngvarr to deal with Imhotep's rubbish, I also feel guilty for doing so.

Myrto gives me a gleeful look before erupting in gales of laughter that soon have tears streaming down her cheeks. Ignoring her antics, Nikias scratches the back of his head and gives me a sheepish smile. “Do you think Phile and Ipy will still come with us?”

“Ipy, yes. Phile, I don’t know what she’s planning or how she’ll react,” I reply, trying not to snicker at Myrto’s contagious laughter.

Zosime’s approach draws our attention from the laughing Myrto. “You're back? Phile and the others just left a little while ago to meet you at the Guildhall.”

“Imhotep was being problematic, so I left the guild. There wasn’t a point in staying with his attitude. He likes to classify and control people—I don’t take well to either,” I explain and smile reassuringly when I catch her concern.

“That doesn’t mean I can’t still explore from here. I had hoped the guild would be useful, but that’s not been the case. Meeting you led me to Phile and Nikias, and following my other plans would have introduced me to Ipy and Myrto. I’d already been planning to visit all the local temples to see if they needed help.”

My rushed explanation gets an understanding nod from Zosime.

“Myrto, what is the issue with Imhotep and Irene?” I ask, and spot Zosime's lips purse in disapproval.

“He’s been problematic for Priestess Irene since he got here. Since Hestia was the only survivor between the Greek and Egyptian pantheons, he considers Lady Hestia a coward,” Myrto recounts, a sudden righteous anger stripping amusement away.

Taking a breath, I hold on to my composure and restrain my body’s urge to shift. I’m not sure why, but wanting to punch Imhotep in the nose, has my body trying to opt for a male form. Which is completely crazy since I’ve heard tales of the damage my Aunt Am inflicts.

“Hestia wasn’t part of any pantheon when the war started. You can still see the scars Zeus’ attack left on her face if she brushes back her hair. It's obvious they still hurt.”

Zosime gasps. “You’ve met Lady Hestia in person. How? When?”

“Thanks to Gail’s intercession, so did Priestess Irene and I this morning,” gushes Myrto.

“I see how it is, no title unless you’re rubbing it in someone’s nose.”

My mock disapproval amuses Nikias enough to laugh, but Myrto and Zosime ignore me as Myrto launches into the details of the visit. Which includes far too much awe about Hestia's approval of me. I'm glad when she hurries on to the details of Hestia’s Domain.

While they’re busy talking, I send off a combined message to Ipy, Aggie, and Phile, letting them know about my departure from the guild and our current location.

“Where do you think Esdras will offer me land for building? It’ll need to be at least as large as the Guildhall to transfer everything smoothly.”

“That’s a bit of land. You’d have to be outside the wall or buy several people’s homes. There are some rocky spots along the coast that no one farms if you want somewhere close. Otherwise, I think the only useless land is beyond the outer fields.”

“The coast sounds like the better way to go. I’ll see if Yngvarr still intends to stay to determine what sort of building I make it.”

“Are you planning to move out?” asks Nikias cautiously. “I told my family we’d likely be staying here a while.”

“No, I wouldn’t dare upset Zosime,” I laugh. “It sounds like Aggie will stay regardless, so she and Pitnari won’t need to take up one of Ipy’s rooms. Though today has taught me one thing important for the future.”

“What about Imhotep’s rudeness?” asks Nikias gruffly. “I can’t believe the angry looks he gave you. I’ve never seen him that way.”

“Glad that wasn’t just my viewpoint. No, I learnt the importance of two-way communication—Phile didn’t have a way to reply to our messages. That was so frustrating and something I’ve taken for granted. I’ll sort something out to prevent that from happening again.”

Nikias sighs. “You’re planning to hand out more gear, aren’t you? I already owe you so much.”

“I should have made it clear when you said that earlier. You’re sworn to my service, so I'm responsible for ensuring you've proper equipment,” I say, and I’m glad when he nods his acceptance rather than arguing the point. "If it wouldn't make you a target, you'd be wearing far better gear than you have now."