Fluid - 12

“I hope I didn’t disturb your morning prayers, Ipy,” I squeeze out, and make a note to apologise to Irene and Myrto.

“Like most of Lerina’s priests, I offer prayers before dawn,” Ipy says and motions to the seawall. “I like the candle and the motif of broken chains.”

“I thought you might approve. How are you feeling this morning, Nikias?” I ask, unsure how to address Phile with her tension so obvious.

“I’m well, Lady Gailneth. Thank you for the clothing and equipment,” says Nikias, trying to keep his composure; he awkwardly patted the sword at his side. “Tove said you made it for me last night.”

“I’m not a Lady.”

Nikias coughs, and I catch he knows my exact rank. “I’ve sworn an oath of service, so isn’t that how I’m supposed to address you?”

Huffing, I cross my arms. “Please call me Gail, or do I need to make it an order?”

At my frustrated tone, Nikias quickly concedes. “You’re in charge.”

“Only because you volunteered.”

With Phile’s hesitation fading, I brace myself and get in first. “Was your mother upset I wasn’t there this morning?”

“Yes,” admits Phile. “The chair you placed in the workroom showed you weren’t coming back.”

“I’ll apologise to her later, but I didn’t want to wake her just to say goodbye. Though I still need to get advice about what clothing and cloth best suit the peninsula’s conditions.”

“You only just started guesting with Zosime,” states Nikias, clearly an enquiry, and I give him a shrug.

“Things got a little tense last night. Can we leave it at that, please?”

Nikias winced. “Am I to blame for you falling out?”

“No.”

Phile’s denial echoes my own, but Nikias looks sceptical.

His family’s absence provides a subject change. “Nikias, have you seen your family yet?”

“Not as yet. Tove made me some food at the guildhall. I’d just finished getting dressed, and then some messages stirred people up,” admits Nikias cautiously. “They’re likely already tending to chores and working at the brewery.”

Ensuring I keep a smile in place, I shoo him on his way. “Go see them now, please. I spoke to your father last night. He and the rest of the lane were anxious about you.”

“Are my classes going to cause problems for you?” Nikias asks softly.

My cautious expression gets a wince. “Imhotep called in a senior guild team. I’d appreciate you using the plate only once they're here to sign off on your class set.”

“Being in your service, I’m not worried if I’m a registered adventurer. Would it be easier if I just accompanied you?” asks Nikias.

“It’s a concern for later. You deserve individual acknowledgement of your progress. Now go see your family and be careful of your new strength when giving hugs.”

Nikas’ hasty nod makes me wonder what he’s broken already. “Yes, Gail.”

He heads away before I can ask, and so I leave it be. His departure seems to prompt Tove to hover closer, and I tap her filigree shell. “Aren’t you seeing Myrto this morning? I was singing for a while, so I doubt her morning prayers are still going.”

“Later, once you’re away from Nanoĸ,” grumbles Tove

“Imhotep said Nanoĸ just wanted me out of the guild, nothing else,” I offer.

Tove huffs and spins in place. “It might be what he thinks Nanoĸ meant by his remarks, but I don’t believe that’s completely true.”

“Well, I’m in the mood to build. Shall we be on our way before Imhotep insists on answers?”

I’m heading towards the west gate without waiting for them to reply. With no one on the river mouth’s wooden bridge, I’m tempted to warp it into stone and double its width.

“Gail,” breathes Phile.

Stopping, I look back, knowing she feels obliged to apologise. I don’t let my smile fade, but I don’t want her social lie. “Only say what you mean. I can tell you’re still working things out, so please leave it be for now. Imhotep has appointed Nanoĸ as team mentor, so you don’t have to worry if you don’t wish to continue.”

“What? Why?” gasps Phile.

“I spoke to him after checking on Nikias. I admitted you were uncomfortable with me. He made some observations and told me Nanoĸ would be my team mentor. You owe me nothing, but if you wish to part ways, please keep what I told you secret.”

Phile eyes widen slightly, and the same look I’d seen in Androkles' gaze flares in hers. “I’m just wrapping my head around what happened.”

“Phile, there is a big difference between keeping a secret to harm versus keeping one to protect yourself or others. All my secrets fall into the latter category.”

“I know, and I should get that, but I’ve been with too many that use even those secrets as weapons. Making others feel inferior because they’re not in the trusted circle. It’s more your…”

Trailing off, Phile gestures up and down at me.

“Physical changes?” I ask, keeping my tone carefully neutral.

“Yes,” groans Phile. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to talk with the Guild Master. The guild doesn't involve itself in internal team matters; he has no right to appoint a mentor since you already have one.”

With that, she hastened towards where Androkles and Imhotep are still arguing. The white-knuckled fist she makes with her once-injured hand twists my stomach into a knot. I’d done it help, and now she likely sees it as a debt.

“What are you planning to build?” asks Ipy curiously, drawing my attention back from Phile. “Though I’d also like to know why you’re so eager to build.”

“I enjoy helping people, but I’ll admit some self-interest. Two of my classes gain progress from making things,” I reply, waving to the cove’s seawall.

“Oh, in that case, completely selfish,” notes Ipy dryly.

Glancing at Phile’s tight back, I give a glum nod. “People are more complex than I thought. Sometimes choosing to help has consequences you don’t expect.”

“For yourself and others,” agrees Ipy, leading the way across the bridge.

“Can I rebuild the shrine and your home?”

“How selfish of you,” teases Ipy. “Aren’t you tired from working on the cove?”

“I was careful in the way I made the changes. Using an extended process lessened the physical strain it puts on me. Changes in combat are short, but I can’t target too much at once without risk,” I explain.

“Lady Gail, who determines where people can dock?”

The quiet question from a local woman on the beach ahead of us interrupts the question on Ipy’s lips. Indeed, her polite tone differs from the tight frown she gave me yesterday, making me curious if it was making her youngest son giggle by blowing him a kiss that melted the ice, or the piers.

Though she’s got her light brown hair mostly tied back, loose strands show the haste she came to the harbour, three young boys in tow, at my announcement. The children have her oval features and olive-skinned tone but possess dark brown eyes instead of her grey.

Her dress, and the diapers worn by the youngest two, are a similar home-spun cloth to the shirt and pants Nikias wore in the off-white tones of nearly raw cotton. The eldest boy, maybe six, shows the same disregard for clothing I preferred at home.

Smiling, I hopped the seawall and extended my hand. “It's fine to call me Gail. Do the boats get secured in the same places each night?”

Clasping my hand, she gives a slow nod. “I’m called Euthalia, Gail. The owners put their boats as close to their homes as possible. Though in times of big swells, moving them is common.”

“Well, I don’t own the piers, so I’m not the person to ask.”

“But you built them,” protests Euthalia, her voice lifting in pitch emphasises her confusion.

“My apologies. I understand the confusion now; Androkles hired me to build them. Perhaps he’s best to speak to about docking arrangements,” I reply quickly and wave at the middle one, who is playing peek-a-boo behind her. “Your boys are adorable. Have a nice day.”

“They can be when they’re not getting in trouble,” grumbles Euthalia, but despite the tone in her voice, she gently ruffles the little one's hair.

Laughing, I step back over the seawall at the top of the beach. “Isn’t that part of growing up?”

“Did he hire you to build them?” asks Ipy quietly once we’re out of earshot.

“He paid me a stack of coins for this morning’s work,” I confirm quickly, glad I can delegate any arguments to Androkles.

“Who is paying for your next building work?”

I point at him, and Ipy shakes his head in amusement. “Did you have a particular style you were looking to have it built in?”

“I’ve got some rough plans,” offers Ipy, and he draws two small sheets of papyrus from a holding pouch at his waist.

The design is of a rectangular building with an open courtyard at the east end. A pair of broad columns on each side support a covered ceremonial area, and a door off to one side opens into a space for priests to prepare. The living quarters sit in line with the temple, linking to it and a small infirmary.

My questions about dimensions, materials, and construction elements fill the brief trip back to the west gate. Quick though the walk is, it gives Protean enough time to clear fatigue from the harbour’s construction. However, my stomach makes its displeasure at having skipped breakfast known.

Ipy gives me an amused look. “Forget something this morning?”

“I wasn’t really in the mood to eat,” I offer reluctantly.

Ipy nods. “Seems she needs some time. My wards are still in place; you can eat, and we can talk. I’m sure I’ll have to reset them after you finish construction, so I might as well take advantage of them now.”

With that, he ushers me inside and moves to fill a pot with water. My first notes stop him, and a golden glow covers his table. When I’m done, an assortment of comfort food sits on identical plates to what I’d pulled from Inventory yesterday.

“I believe I mentioned making the plates. Pancakes with wild honey, fried duck eggs, grilled venison sausages, and chocolate chip cookies. You’re welcome to have some.”

I sit down while he’s still considering the food and slide a spare plate in front of another seat before serving myself.

“Just as well I can’t smell the food,” teases Tove.

“See the downsides of not having a humanoid body? You don’t have a nose, mouth, or stomach.”

She lightly giggles and moves to hover above the table, illuminating the food unnecessarily but dispelling all the early morning shadows.

“You’re very protective of Gail, aren’t you, Tove?” asks Ipy, even as he sits beside me. He doesn’t heap his plate as I’ve done with mine, but he takes a portion from each dish.

“She’s like a cute little sister,” laughs Tove. “Or brother, I had older brothers when I was alive, but I remember they were a pain.”

“After I got home last night, I thought about what you shared. Phile’s reaction this morning highlights an issue you’ll have,” cautions Ipy.

“People not handling me shifting genders well isn’t new. Some around mother’s home reacted to it better than others,” I say, and get a headshake in response.

“The species commonly known as shapeshifters aren’t friends to humanity. Succubi and other demons-”

My snickers—around a mouthful of food—cut him off, and I have to signal to give me a moment before I can reply. The reference to the original state of both mother and Aunt Am had been what made me snicker, but a mouthful of food buys me time to consider my reply.

“Sorry, I get what you mean, and it’s in part related to a family joke,” I offer, and though I intended to keep the details to a minimum, his open curiosity prompts me to over-share safe information. “I used to tease my parents about their appetite for each other. Their sexcapades have broken assorted walls and, by their own admissions, trashed more furnishings than they can recount. So yeah, sex demons; I think my family has that appetite covered.”

“Wards for keeping sounds in and walls intact are family essentials,” chirps Tove.

“And I still don’t have a younger sibling—so not fair.”

My valid protest earns hiccuping laughter from Tove. Fortunately, that eased Ipy’s curiosity and the tension I’d failed to notice earlier.

“Your parents sound interesting,” allows Ipy. “I take it they’re both high-level individuals.”

“Between their Prestige Class levels, on top of various base classes, I guess they’d each have a couple of thousand levels, at a minimum.”

The silence that causes gives me the time to inhale a pancake, a few eggs, and start on a third sausage.

“I think you broke his brain,” whispers Tove.

Ipy nods and lets out a breath. “If your parents are so powerful, why are you here unaccompanied?”

“They cast long shadows, but if I’m to earn achievements, I need to learn to stand on my own feet, or at least work with others around my own levels.”

“You have a talent for sidetracking conversations,” replies Ipy. “Let me get back to what I was saying. While you are very relaxed about your shapeshifting ability, the locals might have an issue. Not because of you, but because of the legends about the kingdoms' dangers— it's an ability common to some very dangerous creatures, and not one possessed by allies.”

At least not allies they know about, but I keep that to myself. “So you think the local monsters have Phile off-balance?”

“It’s a contributing factor-”

“That and the fact she got upset that the good-looking maiden turned male,” interjects Tove, causing Ipy to cough. “What? I could see how she watched Gail until her form changed.”

“I told her we needed to work out if we could even be friends first.”

“Being told that doesn’t stop the attraction. Having the individual you desire changing their gender before your eyes to one you’re not interested in is a whole different bucket of ice water,” explains Tove. “Attraction can flip to revulsion, Gail, and someone repulsed can do things you don’t expect. While that doesn’t seem to be the case, I’d say Phile needs time to figure out where she stands.”

“Adding her apparent sensitivity to deceptions, her reaction, unfortunately, makes sense,” Ipy chimes in. “I can see why you didn’t want to stay in the house, but take the time to apologise to Zosime. The locals can be touchy about aspects of pride.”

“I was going to talk to her today.”

He nods at my confirmation, and I set aside his drawings and give the side perspective a tap.

“Thoughts?”

“Easy enough, but a couple of questions: do you want a cellar, and how did you get a stretch near the west gate?”

“There were several huts here and a goat pen. I paid the residents enough coins to build better huts within the village walls and negotiated for the animals to move. As for a cellar, while we’re uphill from the cove, I wasn’t sure of the water table,” explains Ipy.

“Beneath the sandy topsoil is a clayey subsoil. I could seal a cellar with stone and divide it into some training space, plus rooms for storage or novices. Faiths with smaller temples in Eyrarháls had them laid out similarly.”

Taking in his thoughtful expression, I return to eating, and he lets me finish uninterrupted. Cleaning up the table by storing everything in Inventory, I motion to his possessions. “Do you need help to move anything outside?”

The question earns me a relaxed smile, and he stands to pack. His calm approach both last night and today is a pleasant contrast to Phile’s nerves. As the first plates go into a folded bag he had secured under his shirt, he shrugs.

“I’ve got enough storage items. Everything can stay in them when they’re not in use until I get enough furnishings made.”

The time he takes packing gives me time to compose changes to construction songs I already knew.

“Tove, I hope Lerina won’t object to my demolishing a shrine and building a temple.”

Tove twitches slightly in surprise at my question. She doesn’t reply immediately, and catching her position shift  ever so slightly towards Ipy, I know when she figures out my reason. “She’s fine with it. Are you planning to pull a stunt with Planar Energy again?”

“Restraining the flow of energy was most of the work last night, especially keeping it from overwhelming someone. One plane’s energy will be simple.. It's easier to do that than needing to consecrate the ground first,” I reply, and Ipy pauses his packing.

“Are you sure it will have the same effect?” asks Ipy, suddenly worried.

“I know where Lerina’s Domain is located among the planes. I spent some time there with my mother when I was younger,” I explain.

At his worried tone, Tove chips in. “It’s possible to consecrate a building after it’s constructed, but it takes a greater Blessing. If Gail’s efforts aren’t sufficient, I’ll ensure it's properly consecrated.”

Ipy gives a nod of acceptance. “Is this partly why you stay a Lantern Archon, Tove, so you’re easier to summon?”

“That and I’m paranoid about the amount of dish washing duty I’ve accumulated,” jokes Tove. “One day I might want hands again. For now, being able to see in all directions and come to the Material Plane so easily, well, those are factors that more than balance it out.”

It doesn’t take Ipy long to pack his few possessions and show me the limits of his land, so it's still early in the morning when I start. The sound draws nearby villagers' attention, whether on gate duty or the neighbouring families.

The material of the buildings shimmers and blurs before the ground joins in. Keeping it limited to well within the grounds, I first add trenches for the foundations before carving out pits for a sectioned cellar and hardening the soil into stone. The energy of the extracted material joins the accumulated mass, shedding a comforting light.

I work my way up by setting stone slabs throughout the cellars and within the trenches. The glow of that mass has diminished even before I’m an arm's reach above ground level.

Songs of dwarven stonework fashion the outer walls, including carved doorways to allow access from the road into the infirmary and Priest quarters.

The eastern courtyard entry is just a wide archway; instead of being open to the sky, I add a frame that I fill in with glass salted with the essence of steel to prevent breakage. While the temple’s main building I set up following Ipy’s plans, the essence of mother’s Domain stretches its interior. From outside, the temple might cater for sixty standing, but its interior promises to give comfortable sanctuary to all that attend. Scenes from the Domain line the walls, the plain stone only hinting at the gleaming boundary towers, crystal residences—both simple and towers—and petitioners among the forests and fields.

On each side of the temple’s back wall I set a coloured motif of the candle and flame surrounded by hundreds of shattered chain links and manacles. When the construction is complete, I sigh with relief, the radiance from the lighthouse feeling shallow compared to the proper essence of home.

When the glow dies, Ipy walks reverently inside, studying all the tiny details I got the stone to show, down to the texture of the park.

“If you want any of the motifs changed, let me know,” I offer and snap Ipy out of his surprised state.

“This is beyond anything I expected, even after seeing the cove,” admits Ipy.

Tove whirls about the building and then stops in front of me. “Hands out.”

Following her instruction is so instinctive, I have them out in time to catch the heavy bag filled with clinking metal. The weight of it almost spills the bag from my hands, and I pull it in Inventory as it threatens to drop to the floor. “Why?”

“Paying you another stack of coins like you billed Androkles,” Tove states and continues over my stammering protests. “It's Cemna gold, so you’ll have to find a money changer that will take it.”

Clasping her sides, I can’t shift her position. “You were spying on my conversation with Androkles this morning?”

“Yeah, well, and?” asks Tove.

“Gotten sneaky, Tove. I didn’t hear you.”

Tove giggles gleefully. “I had the scrying focal point at a distance and amplified its vision and sound.”

“Thanks for letting me know. I’ll try to remember there are things beyond Resonance’s range.”

I catch the message for Tove and hear Aggie’s voice within it.

“You can send her an image of where I am,” I say, even as she starts to ask.

“Miss big ears,” huffs Tove playfully.

I’m still by the entryway when the four appear in the temple’s outer courtyard.

Aggie is the smallest of the quartet—and I tower head and shoulders above her—but her broad smile draws my attention from the rest. It makes her solid golden eyes shine like burnished gold, distracting from the spider web of lines crisscrossing her oval face. The set of her features, from the laugh lines around her eyes to the open smile she often has on display, always gives me a feeling of welcome.

Pitnari's huge form blocks my view of the others beyond him. Beneath his black-furred Basteti form I can hear the Hound Archon. In his current form he’s not a giant’s height, but he’s still a hand span taller than me. Unlike the comfortable clothing Aggie wears, he’s glad in hunters' leathers topped with a chain shirt.

Intermingling with his melody is that of the mail’s enchantment, its sturdy pulse speaking of a Hill Dwarf Artificer. They individually tinted each link in greens and browns, an imitation of an elven style, but it adds to the enchantment letting him blend into his surroundings when hiding.

“Aunt Aggie. Hey tall fellow, still using Pitnari, I hear.”

“Squirt, have you grown again?” rumbles Pit, and his amusement curls his cat-like features.

“Not for a few years now, fur face,” I retort and grumble when he blurs forward and spins me about. “You and Ras are as bad as each other. I’m not a cub to toss around.”

“Of course not, your majesty. My apologies, oh gracious and noble one,” teases Pitnari. Given the number of locals that have been gathering, it's fortunate he’s speaking in Celestial.

“My royal command is to put me down then,” I retort, already knowing what that will bring. A gleeful laugh slips free when he tosses me in the air higher than he’s done before.

“Not yours to command, cheeky girl,” Pitnari says as he catches and twirls me about before setting me on my feet.

Jerking my chin towards the temple interior, I keep my reply to a whisper. “Ipy speaks Celestial and High Elven.”

He gives me an unabashed grin. “Oops.”

“Doofus,” I huff when he bends down and plants a head bump on my shoulder. “You aren’t a cat.”

He steps out of the way, and I take in the other two. Like Aggie, they both wear the loose pants and layered shirts that my father prefers from his Persian roots.

Yngvarr still wears his dark red hair cut a practical short length, unlike the curtain Aunt Am said he used to have. It shows off his pointed ears but makes it harder to spot the various sunset tones that mingle with the darker hue. He’s taller than I am in any of my normal forms, though he still doesn’t match Alfarr's height or muscular build.

A change in the latter’s music has me giving him a grin when I tilt my head back far enough so I can look him in the eyes. Grey flecks that match his gaze show in auburn-hued hair that he wears tied back and slightly longer than Yngvarr but still barely shoulder length.

“It's good to see you both again, Ýridhrendaer and Alfarr,” I offer with a polite nod. “Congratulations on gaining Immortal Spirit, Alfarr.”

“Good morning Gail. My thanks; it happened not long after we last visited. Your father’s insights helped me find my way.”

“May your songs find you well, Gailneth, but you can call me Yngvarr,” offers Yngvarr.

Smiling at them both, I affect a prim tone. “How could I possibly do that after your readmission to the court?”

When he frowns at the mention of his King’s proclamation, I give him a wink that has him rolling his eyes.

“I’m teasing. I’ll go back to using Yngvarr once the situation's formality is out of the way. You’re here to assess if I caused damages or endangered anyone in a fashion requiring reparations and/or expulsion from the guild.”

My mention of expulsion has Yngvarr frowning again, but he lets Alfarr speak.

“Little sunshine, we heard you caused quite the stir.”

Nodding grimly, I meet his gaze. “I made some mistakes, but I did my best to ensure no deaths or endangerments occurred.”

“We’ve been told the boy is awake and fit. Would you care to tell us about the state of the guildhall?” asks Yngvarr.

“The building has a dose of three plane’s energies in it. The Beastlands for growth and vitality, Mechanus to control his changes and the Spire to help me manage the conflicting energies.”

Aggie frowns momentarily, twisting the scar lines. “What can you hear about the outcome of that?”

“From what I’ve determined, they've had two effects. First, it adds additional floors accessible only from within the building, more than what they know, and they seem linked to the cogs. Second, the cogs within the stone are moving, and while ‌movement might relate to a timer effect, the purpose of that effect is unclear. The effect could relate to the floors or something else completely different. I was going to figure it out, but I clashed with the local Guild Master—Imhotep—and thought I’d leave it until you arrived.”

“You only just joined, so who mentioned expulsion? Was it Imhotep?” asks Yngvarr.

“Yes, he put me on probation last night. I had let myself into the guildhall to check on Nikias and stopped to use the ladies' facilities. When he found me bathing, he summarised my deficiencies and situational issues before he announced my mentor and probationary status.”

“While you were in the bath or after you got out?” Yngvarr growls.

“While I was bathing, but should it matter?”

Alfarr and Aggie started to say no, even as Yngvarr gave a disgruntled huff. “Yes.”

“Yngvarr, seriously. I could walk through town naked and it wouldn’t bother me. Why does my being in a bath bother you? I was more upset about the mentor he appointed is someone that doesn't like me.”

“We got details on the senior guild members working here last night. Did he appoint one of them or someone junior?” asks Alfarr.

“Nanoĸ, he handles the weapons’ instruction and other things,” I offer calmly. “The first day in town I’ll admit I’d overdressed for the village, and instead of teaching, he pointed out the flaws and suggested I should go elsewhere since I’d made myself a target for trouble. He suggested I go elsewhere because there will be people looking to steal from me.”

“He also said Gail needed to be dealt with even while she was keeping Nikias alive,” grumbles Tove. “Imhotep says Nanoĸ only meant kicking her out of the guild, but his tone of voice was too angry, so I don’t believe it.”

The scratching in Aggie’s song prompts me to interrupt. “Will you let me fix your scars soon?”

Her clean laughter dances about us, and Aggie pats my shoulder. “Maybe when you get the Tier 7 you think being here will earn you.”

“You’re always placing conditions on me helping you. Livia doesn’t have scars, so I’m not sure why you won’t let me help.”

“Fine, when Amdirlain is free,” retorts Aggie, and she gives me a light push.

It's the biggest ‘in’ that she’s given me yet, and considering my plans, I can’t restrain a mischievous smile. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Yngvarr’s gaze narrows slightly at my expression. “What are you up to, Gailneth?”

“Mother knows.”

“We’re not the most unbiased team to evaluate this situation,” states Aggie. “But if there is an issue, we’ll work out how you’ll help resolve them fairly.”

I give her an understanding nod. “That’s all I ask.”

“Can we start with what happened?” asks Yngvarr.

“It’s easier to show you if you’ll let me.”

When the four of them nod, I sing out my memory of the night’s events, carefully filtering away the pain.

When the song draws to a close, Yngvarr is wide-eyed. “Alright, the extent of your efforts and reasons are very clear now. Given the names, I suggest Nikias not make an official record via the guild imprint plate.”

“Yeah, about that,” I say, sheepishly fiddling with my hair. “I blew up two of those rune plates.”