Fluid - 15

I’ve completed the sketches slightly before the grandmothers finish their prayers. Like all the elderly, they seem to know I’m up to no good and stick around to watch the show.

For me, creation is addictive.

The composition framework for any building is the same; it's just the details that differ: wood, stone, steel, or even mithril. Hestia’s Temple is already complete, so it just needs strengthening.

Transforming the Temple with the echoes from Tove’s Gate doesn’t take even an hour. The first notes set links to Hestia’s Domain, and the energy that flows along them dusts across the stone. By the time the song draws to a close, golden veins thread through the previously plain white stone, giving the appearance of leaping flames. Along the pillars and outer walls, they overlap and cross subtly in places to form Hestia’s symbol. The faded red tiles on the roof turn vermillion as the material gains the strength of steel.

Within the building’s airy interior, more energy expands the space available, as it had for mother’s Temple. Though their domains exist on the same Plane, the atmosphere inside is quite different; even from 20 metres away, it speaks of the hearth, home, and security that Hestia embodies.

Despite the temptation to continue, I stop where I promised, and motion for Irene to inspect the building. “Please look it over, inside and out, and let me know if you need any changes. It’s still early in the afternoon, so I can expand your house if you don’t think it needs refinement.”

Irene heads inside with Thea in tow, and I start again, this time on the library. Books on celestials, the assorted higher planes, their plants, animals, gateways, and portals, all drawn from memory. Each one I key to the Temple to ensure they’ll always come home.

Nikias watches each new one appear and disappear with growing amusement. “Are you trying to do everything today, Gail?”

“I would like to focus on teamwork practice tomorrow.”

“Stories always seem to have elves working at a relaxed pace. Are you that eager to go out into the swamp?”

“I wouldn’t set expectations about elves on my behaviour. At present, it's more that I’m eager to see how well we can work together and how many gaps we’ll have to close off.”

“Gaps?”

“There are always gaps, even if you are introducing a single new team member. Since none of us has worked together, there will be lots,” I state. “Say two people cover an approach, and you might find both are watching the ground cover, yet neither checks the branches overhead. Different people’s situational awareness or reactions are better or worse, and it takes time to work that out.”

“Do you code phrases?” asks Nikias.

“Excuse me?”

“Nanok's advice is to divide the line of march into quarters. If you see something approaching, use the phrase for that quarter rather than left or right. You shouldn't use numbers to indicate directions since, in the heat of battle, someone might confuse the number of foes for the direction of approach,” explains Nikias.

“The teams I worked with used telepathic magics. It avoids misunderstandings, but it takes discipline to always be in mental touch,” I say, taking in Irene’s excitement as she looks over the tiny details hidden within the walls’ vein patterns.

The small things are what make somewhere home and not simply a place you’re living. I tried to include symbols for all the elements I’d heard Hestia talk about when visiting.

“Not giving yourself away by speaking aloud sounds good. How-” muses Nikias.

“Let’s stick with the basics rather than use up magic that way,” interjects Myrto.

Catching the start of her flush, I nod in agreement. “It was a suitable tactic for those groups, but perhaps not everyone.”

When Irene returns, the Temple's dry grass has turned green. I set the stacks of books I’d created on the grass and gave her a glum look.

“They’ve nowhere to call home. Know any place orphaned books can live?”

“It's beautiful work, Gail. If you insist on continuing, I won’t stop you,” Irene replies with a tone of exasperation. “I know you expect more people to come here, but what will I do with the spare rooms in the meantime?”

“You could always rent them out to adventurers packed into the inn. I can hear the misery of the place.”

“Perhaps I can arrange something with Georgius,” Irene allows, though her scepticism is evident. “He’s more interested in the profits than providing comfort for adventurers.”

“Or staff,” I offer and catch Irene’s wince. “They’re packed into the attic.”

“All I can promise is that I’ll speak to him,” cautions Irene.

“I know. I just wanted to let you know it wasn’t just the adventurers,” I say, giving her a reassuring smile before I sing.

The building that rises is of steel-grey stone and curves along the rear of the Temple grounds, fashioning a brazier for the Temple’s ‘flame’. Once the fundamental structure is complete, the glass I’d fashioned from the harbour’s sand secures the windows. When the last piece is in place, the rush that hits me lets me know three of my classes have gone up—I’m sure it's my Wizard Class lagging.

Beyond the inbuilt bookshelves, I added minimal furnishing since I didn’t want to rob Basileios of any business. Just as well I’d reserved a place in his work queue.

We drop off the books into the downstairs library, barely filling half of the first bookshelf.

Still, with it getting past mid-afternoon, we head for the Guildhall instead of continuing.

Yngvarr is near the reception desk when we come in the front door, but from the divination spells that have his attention, I can tell he wasn’t waiting for me. Petrus is behind the counter this time, and his nervous expression has me wondering if Phile has spoken to him.

When I move further into the foyer, Yngvarr quickly dismisses his analysis spells and focuses on me.

“Imhotep’s in his office, I take it?”

“I’m sure you know he is,” Yngvarr says lightly.

“I’ll not go to his office for this meeting, it’s bad enough that I’ve come to the Guildhall with matters not settled between us. I think we should use a downstairs room,” I say and catch Yngvarr’s twitch. “Presently, I’m still undecided if I’ll remain a guild member after his proclamation and demands this morning.”

“I hope that won’t be necessary, Gail. You’d be a fine addition to the guild’s effort to keep the village safe,” states Yngvarr and, having switched to High Elven, he leaves the others in the dark. “Some of my kin would have had his head on the floor.”

I don’t follow his example but ensure I reply in Greek.

“I’d keep the village safe while here, regardless of my membership. But I’m setting limits, Prince Ýridhrendaer Malantur. After being paid for the cove and my efforts on the two temples, I’ve got the funds to cover multiple expeditions without taking jobs from the board.”

Yngvarr twitches at my use of his title and full name. “Two temples?”

“Lady Hestia sent Archon Thea. She provided funds to hire me to refurbish the village’s Temple.”

“Are you annoyed at me, or do you feel the need to be formal?” asks Yngvarr curiously.

“You’re not the one I’m annoyed at, Prince, but I’m here to meet with a guild official, as per your and Grand Traveller Aggie’s arrangements, am I not? Does not that make this greeting a step in a formal process?”

When Yngvarr nods at my answer, I focus on Petrus behind the counter, and the intensity of my stare has him squirming.

“The other day when we spoke, Clerk Petrus, you provided me input that was essentially a damaging lie.”

He goes to inject, and I hold up a finger to warn him to wait.

“I don’t expect people to tell me their life stories, but you volunteered misinformation that put another in a poor light. That I find unacceptable. You’d best make time to apologise to Zosime, or I will do my utmost to sort out a proper settlement for your damage to her livelihood.”

“I don’t answer to you, Gail,” grumbles Petrus. “How foreigners interpret information isn’t my problem.”

“No, you don’t report to me. Though I have a question: do you enjoy having your affinities for Air and Dark, Clerk Petrus? Are they something you’d like to keep and improve on?” I ask, trying for an icy tone. “Or should I get rid of them if they’re inconveniencing you?”

“No one can take an affinity away,” scoffs Petrus, his gaze flickering to my bust, inclining me towards a transformation—of him, not me—perhaps to a toad.

I need to improve my intimidation techniques, but I have other options to get his attention. A dramatic exhalation carries the silent notes that pluck at the connection between him and the universal forces. His perception of Mana vanishes, and his complexion goes pale as the affinities flutter erratically within him.

“I’ll apologise this afternoon, I promise, Gailneth,” stammers Petrus.

“It would be best if you did so promptly. It would be unfortunate if you missed seeing her before dinner since you’ve just set the time frame,” I say brightly, and he nervously swallows. “Is the planning room behind the reception available?”

Looking at me as if I’d grown a second head, Petrus nods. “Yes, it is.”

“I’d like to book it for a meeting with Guild Master Imhotep.”

“He’s in his office.”

For the first time, outside of practice, the smile I give doesn’t reach my eyes. As alien as it feels, it's hard work to keep the expression in place. This time I focus on my father’s lessons in intimidation and let my Charisma’s energy harden my gaze. “That’s nice. Please let him know I’ll meet him in that planning room when he can converse politely, unlike his demands on the dock. Can you remember that message, Clerk Petrus?”

Petrus nods again, and I start towards the room we’d used yesterday. Yngvarr walks beside me while Nikias and Myrto follow like lambs in tow. Opening the door, I find someone has restored it to its former state, with the table in the centre surrounded by chairs. The formality of it still rubs on me, but I walk to the far side to claim the relative position of dominance.

Nikias moves with me, leaving a hesitant Myrto near the door while Yngvarr heads for the closest chair at the table’s end. When Nikias stands near the wall as if guarding me, Myrto's momentary uncertainty eases, and she moves towards the spot next to me. I send off messages to Phile and Aggie to let them know we’re at the hall to meet with Imhotep. Considering the room's layout, I toss around some options and make a choice.

“Are you sure we should be part of this meeting with the Guild Master?” asks Myrto. "I could just pass along Irene's message and leave you to it."

"She gave you a message for Guild Master Imhotep?"

"Yes, she wanted her viewpoint made clear before he does whatever he'll do anyway," replies Myrto.

“That sounds like something I should discuss with Irene. I don’t want to hide this discussion, or outcome, from team members. Though I should ask: if I quit the guild, would you be open to being hired by me for expeditions into the peninsula?” I ask, and she tilts her head in confusion for a moment.

“Nikias hasn’t signed up as yet, right?”

“No, and I may not if it will cause Gail issues,” affirms Nikias.

“Then I don’t need to join the guild to help you. Guild Master Imhotep could put a job ban on your requests if he plays politics. Favoured as you are by Lady Hestia, I’ll not risk joining the guild unless you remain a member,” Myrto replies, and she gives me a fierce nod of conviction.

With potentially making their lives difficult, I aim at least for a lack of confusion. “You haven’t asked, but the team conditions will remain the same regardless of whether we’re in the guild. In addition, I’ll be paying a retainer for your help; it’ll increase as you level if we’re not taking guild jobs.”

Taking in their smiles, I turn to Yngvarr, who doesn’t seem surprised or fussed by my announcement.

“Prince Yngvarr, would you agree to be the moderator for this meeting, balancing your roles as a senior guild member and member of the Andúnë royal line?”

“I would if Guild Master Imhotep doesn’t object. Do you have an alternative to propose?”

“Would Priestess Irene or Elder Androkles be acceptable within the guild’s rules?” I ask, causing Myrto to start to fidget.

“Either would, but I’ll assume the role unless Imhotep objects. He may propose the first alternative if you propose me.”

With his agreement, I take a moment to store the chair from the table’s far end. Now Yngvarr’s position becomes that of the neutral meditator, separating us even if he isn’t wholly disinterested, and Imhotep can’t claim a high seat by sitting at the other end.

“Were you planning to stay in the village while studying the Guildhall?” I ask Yngvarr once Myrto has stopped fidgeting.

“Can I convince you to create a home for me?” Yngvarr asks. His composed tone and expression are firmly in place, yet I still catch the masked excitement.

“It might need to be a Wizard’s tower,” I reply, keeping a straight face. “I could expand the lighthouse to include rooms inside.”

“What is it with you and your aunt about wizards needing towers?”

“A Wizard needs a tower; it's in the rules,” I insist, and despite my pout, Yngvarr snorts and gives me a blank look until I relent. “Fine. I'll put something together for you if you can arrange the land—for a reasonable fee, of course.”

“Something?”

“Beggars can’t be choosers.”

“I’ve got the coin to pay you,” protests Yngvarr.

“Maybe, but I’ve not told you the fee yet,” I tease and laugh at Yngvarr’s groan. Aggie talked about staying in the Temple, but since all of them can freely Teleport, I’m not sure why they’re looking to live here. The possibility they’re staying to guard me when I return to the village isn’t one I’m happy with at present, as thoughtful as it is. “Not wanting to teleport between Eyrarháls and here for your studies each day?”

“You made an offer to Guild Master Imhotep about teaching affinities, so I thought I’d provide some magical instruction in addition to helping to train you and Ipy when you find yourselves in need. Keeping a local residence rather than hopping back and forth makes more sense,” explains Yngvarr. “I’ve had a few offers from Cadre members over the years for my house in Eyrarháls, perhaps I’ll see if any are still interested.”

Remembering the wild soaring music I’d heard visiting Eyrarháls makes me start in surprise. “You’d sell it, even with the song she embedded in the walls?”

Yngvarr gives a confident smile. “I’m sure any Cadre officer would take good care of the house for precisely that reason. Others can appreciate the beauty she impressed into the stone.”

“Where’s Alfarr?” I ask, mostly to change the subject, but I’ve rarely seen them parted while visiting mother’s Domain.

“Supervising a hunt by some of the local adventurers. We wanted to see if the animals will reform after being slain in the Beastlands’ annex.”

Questions from Myrto and Nikias on what they’ve learnt about the Guildhall modifications keep him busy for a time, but it's the same information Aggie has already shared. Focusing on the building, I take out some paper, and soon I’ve got pages of notations accumulated. Yngvarr didn’t stop answering the questions, but his gaze drank up the musical score despite it being useless to him.

“Have you figured out all the building’s new secrets?” asks Yngvarr when his explanation is done.

“If I have, I’d hate to spoil the surprise,” I reply, having caught a change in the hall’s music. “Imhotep has left his office and sounds like a thundercloud. Aggie sent a message during your explanation saying she’d be here shortly but I’m not sure where Phile is at present.”

Yngvarr draws himself up at the news, and his bearing grows almost regal, no doubt his fancy scion training. “She’d gone to speak with Androkles.”

Taking out my guild token, I tap it on the table’s edge and consider flicking it across the table before I put it away.

“I guess they get here when they get here. I’ve determined how I can move the effects into another location. I likely should do that if I’m no longer a guild member at the end of the meeting. One should restore someone’s property to the state you found it in,” I state, and smile at Yngvarr’s composed expression despite the emotional riot behind the mask. “You’ll need a sizeable area of land if you want a house to hold it, and I’ll charge access fees to the other floors. Does the village have taxes or levies, Myrto?”

Though my question catches her by surprise, she answers promptly. “Yes, the council determines business levies each season. Why do you ask?”

“I thought I should pay a portion of those fees to the village council. Is Irene a member?” I ask, trying to keep my amusement in check.

“She is, but normally she doesn’t vote except to break ties,” replies Myrto.

Nikias laughs. “My father is also on the council, but Androkles is the eldest.”

“You’ve some influence with three of seven then,” advises Yngvarr. “The other members are the innkeeper, Georgius; Esdras, who is the villager’s money-changer; Myrrine, who handles the village’s trading post; and, of course, Imhotep.”

“I didn’t intend to influence anyone, only help.”

Though considering Esdras' reaction to me, my influence is likely four of seven. Even as that thought occurs, my protest gets a nod from Yngvarr.

“Which increases their reason to help you. Always best to deal with someone powerful and kind rather than merely powerful. And far better than dealing with many of my kin when they venture into Human lands: powerful, arrogant, and rude.”

“Prince Ýridhrendaer, are you trying to hint you’d like me to be diplomatic in this meeting?” I teasingly ask upon hearing Imhotep’s approach.

“Simply making you aware of what precedence exists,” counters Yngvar.

The knock is expected, but Yngvarr gives the go-ahead to enter before I speak up, and I pull Resonance’s reach back in.

When Imhotep steps inside, I play the diplomat and rise since the Guildhall is effectively his house. He’s outwardly calm compared to the agitated states I’d recently encountered.

“Guild Master Imhotep.”

“Gailneth,” replies Imhotep and moves to the chair opposite me with barely a glance at Yngvarr.

“I’ve asked Prince Ýridhrendaer to mediate this discussion as both an Adventurers’ Guild founding member and Andúnë royalty. Is this acceptable to you?”

“Given he is very familiar with you, yet investigating other matters, I’d prefer someone more neutral,” replies Imhotep, and he doesn’t give me a chance to put forward suggestions. “Perhaps Esdras, since I’m aware you’ve met him at least.”

Mother’s lessons in keeping a straight face come in handy when I don’t burst out laughing. “If you can get him to leave his shop.”

“I’ll ask,” replies Imhotep, and a Spell with a lightning tone speeds away, containing a politely worded request, to which an agreement comes back almost immediately. “He’ll be along shortly.”

“We’re still waiting on Androkles and Phile‌,” states Yngvarr.

“While we wait, I like to discuss a different matter. I understand you threatened a member of this guild,” states Imhotep.

“There wasn’t a threat, just some questions, statements, and a promise. Then he made a promise, and I suggested it would be unfortunate if he broke it. After all, who knows how he’d feel then? There was also the matter of his affinities. I asked him some questions about those. Do you know some people don’t enjoy having particular affinities? Though I understand others are less fussy or like to have everything.”

My torrent of words deliberately runs over Imhotep’s attempt to interject several times.

“Would you suggest I allow another to abuse a staff member?” Imhotep asks when I finally let him get a word in.

“What about your staff member’s ability to abuse their position to affect someone’s livelihood? Since I’d mentioned it and he was working the reception, I’ll be generous and assume this doesn't involve the guild.”

“Guild internal disciplinary matters with staff aren’t your concern,” resorts Imhotep coldly.

“Since his actions affected someone outside the guild, the matter is external. I told you what he'd done, and he wasn't put off by whatever you may, or may not, have said to him.”

The hint of a glower appears, and Imhotep’s brow furrows in frustration. “He is a member of the guild staff, protected by his employment, and the guild doesn’t answer to you.”

“Are you suggesting the guild is okay with false information being spread? That would be an interesting stance, but not unknown to some types of government. I'm told tyrants do that sort of thing all the time,” I say with a sharp dig in my tone.

“I’d suggest we might want to discuss this at a separate meeting,” suggests Yngvarr, his reasonable tone far different from Imhotep—or admittedly—myself

Pitnari is right, I am a brat, and since I had warned Imhotep about Petrus, I’m not inclined to just let it slide. “We’ve not started the meeting yet. This is just idle chit-chat. Though I have a question about your wording, Imhotep. You said: ‘another to abuse a staff member’. Does that mean you reserve the right to abuse them, Guild Master Imhotep? As Petrus observed, I am a foreigner, so I’d appreciate some clarification.”

“That isn’t what I meant,” protests Imhotep, and he grips the back of the chair with white knuckles.

“You’re a Wizard. Perhaps you should be more careful in your thoughts, words, and demands.”

“Now we’re getting more towards the matters for this meeting,” murmurs Yngvarr. “Which means we should wait for Esdras.”

“What exactly is the purpose of this meeting, Prince Ýridhrendaer?” I ask. Focusing on Yngvarr I repeat Aggie’s message. “All I was told was you’d like to meet with me, Elder Androkles, Phile, and Guild Master Imhotep.”

Mentioning Imhotep last doesn’t elicit any reaction. Maybe rank order is different in Egyptian culture?

“To discuss the Guildhall situation, your team’s status, and alterations made to the village,” explains Yngvarr.

Nodding, I return to Imhotep and take in his still-white-knuckled grip on the chair’s back.

“Are you going to sit, Guild Master Imhotep, or should we all continue to stand?”

“I’ve been waiting for you to sit,” huffs Imhotep.

“Then perhaps you should speak up or allow everyone to sit before bringing up other matters,” I reply and promptly settle onto my chair.

Myrto sits down, not waiting for Imhotep, and does a poor job hiding a smirk. Myrto’s smugness shows she’s enjoying some aspect of me confronting the Guild Master. Resisting the urge to listen closely to her song, I instead make a note to check with her later.

Nikias’ tension behind me conveys his discomfort, I don’t know if he’s intimidated by Imhotep or just inclined to be respectful, and I’ve upended his world.

Looking between the pair, I give Myrto and Nikias a smile. “If either of you would prefer not to sit through a boring meeting, you could leave us to it.”

“Not boring so far,” murmurs Myrto.

“I’m your knight, so it's hardly fitting for me to leave you undefended,” states Nikias, and I give him a nod of understanding. His tension isn’t from discomfort regarding Imhotep’s attitude, rather the determination in his gaze shows a resolution to stay despite knowing Imhotep's abilities completely outclass him.

“I’ll be interested to see your classes given their effect on you, Nikias,” states Imhotep eagerly.

“I’m not joining the guild, I’ve taken service with Lady Gailneth,” declares Nikias, leaving me wondering what tipped the scales in his decision.

“Given your attitude towards Lady Gailneth and conduct after she risked herself to save Nikias’ life, I’m also considering not joining,” adds Myrto smugly. “Not to mention your attitude towards shielding a guild staff member who’s in the wrong. You are on the village council—what about protecting this community from such individuals?”

Outrage twists Imhotep's expression, and I catch a flash of heat in his gaze.