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Awoken early one morning, before he could head to the academy for training, Cire found himself ambushed by Duchess Silverstar’s machinations. Daphne had insisted on spending the day with him. This turned out to mean impromptu singing, dancing, and flute lessons on the rooftop garden of the willow pillar. He only had decent aptitude for dancing, but she had insisted he try the others as well.
Standing opposite of Cire, in what he had come to recognize as a casual silk gown, Daphne stepped forward with a rhythmic skip and swung both of her hands up. He reciprocated and they clapped hands like a game of patty cake. Then they each twirled in place until they faced away from each other and strode away.
Upon reaching his original position, Cire bent his knees outward and stood straight again. Spinning to face the duchess, he bowed and held the position until she matched him. Cire stretched and took in a deep breath of fragrant air.
“Thank you for teaching me some of your peoples dances. I know you said that it’s only an uncommon skill, but I was never any good at it before. I’m surprised that you insisted on teaching me personally.”
Daphne walked over to a table set with several pitchers and poured herself a glass of apple cider, before quaffing its contents. An all too familiar mischievous smile poked at the corners of her lips, framed by her silver shining hair.
“Nonsense, I am a generous host to the companions of my children. It was a chance to spend some time alone with you. I haven’t seen you in the library as often as you gave me concern to believe. Is the academy so enthralling that it has kept you away?”
Cire gulped down his own glass of water, at her question the liquid went down rough and he almost choked.
“No, your grace. Not enthralling, but necessary. My skills are paltry and underdeveloped. I will follow through on my commitment to translate the journal and any other works in ancient or divine elvish that I can. Apologies for the delay.”
Taking her position across from him again, Daphne waited until he was ready and they proceeded to start the dance over from the beginning. Cire was doing well enough that he no longer had to stare at his feet. She continued the conversation while he was off balance.
“No apologies needed. What is my daughter to you?”
Tripping over his own feet, Cire almost fell. He was able to right himself, but the damage had been done.
“She’s a close friend, one of the few that I have here. I didn’t meet her under the best circumstances and she isn’t exactly the gregarious sort. But she’s always straight with me and I’ve fought by her side enough to know I can rely upon her.”
Daphne’s calculating blue eyes lingered on the rings on Cire’s hands as she clasped them and spun with him in a tight circle.
“Your ring, is it suitable?”
Squeezing Daphne’s hands, Cire paused before he released and started moving sideways in a counter-clockwise circle. A noticeable delay before his response belayed his ill ease. Cire had a sneaking suspicion that Daphne’s words were always chosen with care. It made him feel like a mouse being chased by a cat. Normally he was unguarded with his speech and spoke from the cuff, he couldn’t be that way around Daphne.
“Yes, it’s comforting to have a tangible method to know if I am putting myself at risk. I could always hold a silver coin, but a pure silver ring is a better indicator; for me and others.”
They continued to dance around each other, both with their feet and conversation. Cire could tell that Daphne knew far more than she was letting on. It was a challenge unlike anything the vampire had faced in this world.
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A day of dancing and music, even if poorly practiced, was a welcome relief from the constant training Cire’s daily routine had become. Late in the evening, he had managed to catch Selene during a rare shared moment of free time. She was coming out of the library as he was headed in.
“Selene, nice to see you. It’s been a few days. Can we talk?”
Turning, Selene lead him back into the room and shut the door. The room’s walls were all covered in bookshelves, except the door. She sat on the circular couch in the center of the room and waited for Cire to move a chair before her. Running a hand through her stark raven black hair, Selene gave him a tired smile.
“Has Eliana whipped you into shape yet?”
“The palaestra is quite the taskmaster. I can’t tell if she is pushing me harder because I am temporary student or if her other disciples aren’t as enjoyable to abuse.”
Selene adjusted one of her bracelets, pushing it up her forearm.
“Probably both. She always had an exceptional ability to find my weaknesses, and she doesn’t use half measures. Now, I doubt you wanted to talk about training, what’s on your mind?”
Cire looked around the empty room, assuring their privacy, but he still leaned in and kept his voice low.
“I wanted to ask you about selecting a profession. A couple of weeks ago I crossed the apprentice threshold for two skills. Your the only person here who knows about my larger concerns. Do you have any advice?”
“Martial combat and swordsmanship?”
Cire nodded confirmation. Tilting her head in thought, light glinted off the pearls in Selene’s ears.
“Well, that would make the fighter profession available, they’re both obviously martial skills. You can only choose one profession each tier and obviously that restricts your pathway to later professions. Fighter would be good for you, it suits your skills and the role you take in battle. That’s not what you’re asking though, is it?”
“It is, in a way. In the past, well… recently, I have made some poor assumptions on what the world around me is like. Sooner than I would hope I am going to have to shoulder more responsibility than fighting an enemy directly before me. Is it wise to pick that profession? Given my circumstances, would it be better if I went with something that lead down an administrative path?”
Selene noticed that Cire had gotten better at coding his language, she wondered how much influence her mother had already begun to exert over her hapless friend. She maintained the double talk, but if her mother was listening in, it would still give her one more piece of the puzzle to work out.
“Great leaders are seldom bureaucrats. The best leaders; rulers of settlements, famous adventurers, and the heads of large clans are all first and foremost responsible for the protection of their people. Personal power is not only expected, but required.”
Cire had suspected as much, but confirmation gave him confidence in his choice.
“Alright, that’s what I thought. Do I need to go to a particular shrine to do this? I know each god disburses different professions, but that tends to matter more with the higher tier ones right?”
“Right, every god and goddess that the Tempest Treetops is bound to can bestow the fighter profession. If you want to go this late, we could visit Selene, Hecate, or Artemis’s temples as this is their time of worship. Aeolus’s shrine is most likely closed til the morning, we shouldn’t be seeing any storms tonight.”
It was about time he visited Selene’s shrine after what he had learned from Daphne. Cire figured he might as well go for two birds with one stone. Then he thought about the reason that his friend had likely not selected her own profession.
“Would it be uncomfortable or inappropriate for you to accompany me? I would like you to come.”
“It’s fine. Let me inform the house staff and gather an escort. My mother wouldn’t be pleased if we were seen out alone together.”
They stepped off the elevator platform at the base of the willow pillar and made their way towards the main square in the center of the voluminous roots of the Undergrowth. Elias, and three other male slaves walked with them, two ahead and two behind. Before reaching the center, near to the cypress pillar of the Tempestnight family, they veered east.
Hidden down a dark corridor, with an unassuming doorway, they found the temple to Selene. While the location of the shrine and the outside of the temple was demure and secluded, the inside was as grand. White and silver shrouded practically every surface, right down to the painted wood of the roots and branches shaped into walls.
The altar had a white cloth covering it, embroidered with the full cycle of the moon in silver thread. A silver platter sat in the center with round white cakes. Next to the platter was pitcher full of milk and decanter filled with white wine. Behind the alter, suspended in mid-air, was a mirror.
Near the door, as they made their way into the intimate space, a clergy member rang a silver bell once for each of them. The slaves each knelt towards the back of the temple as they entered. Selene lead Cire down the aisle and they joined a small line of worshipers.
Cire watched as each supplicant walked forward to speak with the priestess. After they exchanged a hushed conversation, they would be given one of the cakes and a drink from each of the vessels. As he got closer, he could make out the priests words when they presented each refreshment.
“Eat of the mother’s sweetness. Drink of the mother’s love. Drink of the mother’s dreams.”
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When it was Selene’s turn, she repeated the same procedure as the others. Cire had thought that she may eschew the practice, his elven friend had never demonstrated a particular reverence for the gods. Stepping forward, he bowed his head, and the moon elf priestess joined him by leaning her head next to his.
“I am here to select my profession priestess. I am unfamiliar with the…” He stopped and took a quick breath. “… the mother’s desired form of worship.”
Whispered back, the priestess’s voice was warm and welcoming.
“The eye of the night see’s all that falls within her light. She knows her children on sight and provides her assistance to all those who need emotional clarity. Speak your offering, a promise to imbibe only foods of white until moonrise or to help those suffering from lunacy would be more than sufficient to appease the mother.”
Cire repeated that he would only eat white food for the next day and received the same communion as the previous aspirants. Upon finishing his sip of wine, the priestess summoned an acolyte to lead him and Selene to a small ante chamber. At the back of the room stood a statue of a woman clad in long robes with angels wings, wearing a diadem. Above the statues head was a crescent moon glowing with soft white light.
The acolyte, dressed in white robes with silver trim, held a hand out towards the statue of the goddess Selene.
“Place your hands upon this edifice of the mother and state your intentions.”
Doing as instructed, Cire laid his palms against the cool stone and closed his eyes.
“I wish to choose my profession.”
Flashing on the inside of his eyes, a chart of his various options appeared. It was illuminated by the soft white glow of moonshine. He felt a rippling chill spread across his body from the top of his head down. Tenderly, a light caress of energy filled him with a sense of calm.
Basic Profession Information Chart
Primary Bonus
Secondary Bonus
Restrictions & Penalties
Laborer
25% Increase to Physical & Extractive Skill Growth
Removes the diminishing skill experience penalty per day and 25% Increase to Personal Production Rate.
50% penalty to experience gain from slaying creatures. Removes skill experience combat bonus.
Student
10% Increase to Skill Growth
100% Boost to Experience Gain from Skill Growth
25% penalty to experience gain from slaying creatures. Removes skill experience combat bonus.
Apprentice
25% Increase to Craft & Talent Skill Growth
Removes the diminishing skill experience penalty per day and 25% Increase to the Production Rate of Crafting Skills.
50% penalty to experience gain from slaying creatures. Removes skill experience combat bonus.
Adept
25% Increase to Arcane Skill Growth
Increased Chance to Gain Arcane Skill Abilities
Can only gain bonus experience from arcane skill growth. 25% decrease to martial skill growth.
Fighter
25% Increase to Martial Skill Growth
Increased Chance to Gain Martial Skill Abilities
Can only gain bonus experience from martial skill growth. 25% decrease to craft skill growth.
Rogue
25% Increase to Espionage Skill Growth
Increased Chance to Gain Espionage Skill Abilities
Can only gain bonus experience from espionage skill growth.
Acolyte
Bonus based on the selected divine entity.
Increased Chance to Gain Divine Abilities
Restrictions based on the selected divine entity.
Cire had reviewed the basic professions during a previous session in the Silverstar family’s library, but he gave them a once over in case he had missed something. This was a pivotal decision and double checking at the last moment was prudent.
“Mother, please make me a fighter.”
It felt weird to make the request, but the light pressure Cire could sense all around him truly felt like the comforting embrace of a long lost relative. Cire kept his hands in place as the statue grew colder. Time dilated and the rapidly building cold dissipated back out through his fingertips. Blinking his eyes open, he wasn’t aware of any monumental change, but he knew he had taken an irrevocable step forward.
Feeling a reassuring hand grip his shoulder, Cire turned back to see his friend with a melancholy smile. She didn’t break the reverent quiet by speaking. However, he saw congratulations and pain play out on her face. Cire knew then, that if he could, he would find a way to help Selene gain access to magic.
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Kneeling with the black sapwood sword across his thighs, Cire watched Eliana dash around a sparring dummy and strike it from several angles. The palaestra was a dervish of kicks, punches, and slashing wooden blades. Every time she shifted positions, her body would blur as a sudden explosion of speed launched her to a new spot. She kept this routine up for a little longer before disengaging and walking to kneel across from Cire.
Pulled back into a severe bun, Eliana’s gray-white hair gave away her age when her movements and grace did not. Her almond shaped green eyes were a stark contrast with the rest of her sharp features. Pinning down the sun elf with her scrutiny, she addressed him.
“Pupil, do you see now what you lack?”
“Yes, instructor. When you told me to correct my footwork, it was not about when I should use my skill abilities, but how.”
“Explain.”
“I have been using my flash step and surging strike abilities as amplifications to my movements, not using them to push beyond how I was moving previously. Even though the flash step costs just five mana and surging strike ten, I only recover six mana per hour. Regardless of the total amount of mana I posses, I have a fixed number of times I can use the abilities in a single battle. I need to make sure that when I use them they are impactful”
“Yes, exhausting yourself during a simple practice match is unacceptable. We already work at a deficit using sapwood swords. Your skills are not meant to replace passive increases to speed or strength. They are meant to definitivly decide a fight.”
“Yes, instructor. I will endeavor to improve.”
Rising, Eliana took a single step back and raised her sword.
“Demonstrate.”
Matching the elder elf’s pose, he bowed his head slightly, but never broke eye contact. Edging forward slowly, Cire feinted to one side twice and then lunged in the opposite direction. As his feet reconnected with the ground he charged them with mana and flung himself back to his starting position.
Eliana kept up with Cire’s movements, watching him carefully. She deftly swept aside his weak attacks. The barest hint of a smile creased her lips.
Flowing around Eliana, Cire kept moving. Waiting for the right moment. They traded slashing strokes and then he disengaged while dodging a sweeping leg attack. He had to find an opening.
Beginning an attack sequence of her own, the grand master rolled towards Cire after the sweep. She bounded up with her sword raking a wide horizontal arc. Ducking down, Cire avoided the strike, but limited his movement options. He caught a knee square to his nose before he could counter.
Pushing past the pain, the sun elf angled his body directly towards Eliana and leapt. They tumbled together and rolled across the hardwood floor. Cire’s sword clattered away from him. Mana surged into his fist, and he slammed it home into the older elf’s stomach.
Wincing, Eliana rolled away and sprang to her feet. She kicked Cire’s sword to the wall and stood between him and the weapon. He had adapted, but at the cost of his weapon. The transgression would need to be punished.
Pushing off with a burst of speed of her own, Eliana charged each foot in quick succession. Rapidly re-positioning herself she slammed her sword into each of Cire’s thighs before he blocked a third strike. Cire’s palm pushed the flat of her blade away and past him. The telltale wisps of blue smoke showed that he had used his surging strike, unarmed, against her sword.
Back peddling, Cire kept up the best he could. Without reach he was finished. He needed to close the distance between him and Eliana, and keep it closed. He turned and sprinted towards the wall opposite from his opponent. Following aggressively, Cire caught several quick attacks on his backside from Eliana.
Planting his foot against the wall, Cire activated his flash step and threw his weight into a controlled flip. Landing behind Eliana with a single foot, he propelled himself again and dove to retrieve his sword. A biting sting numbed his ankle as Eliana scored a hit.
Cire spun and re-oriented himself as he stood unevenly, baring his sword. Batting the wooden obstacle aside with her own, Eliana closed. She rotated her hips and threw her body weight into her next attack. Eliana’s elbow crashed into Cire’s jaw, sending him slumping to the ground.
Stepping back, the old elf waited to see if he would rise. When Cire stayed limp she retrieved a small vial of smelling salts and waved it under his nose. As his eyes fluttered open, she nodded.
“Better than expected. You still have a lot of gaps, but they are closing.”
Wobbling to an upright kneeling position, Cire bowed once before rubbing his jaw. His words came out a bit slurred.
“Thank you teacher.”
Walking over to the edge of the gymnasium’s sparring arena, Eliana removed her slippers and changed into a simple pair of shoes.
“Do not thank me. You are a barely trained novice. You should study here for another two or three decades before you leave.”
Cire joined her and started changing as well. Eliana was one of the few elves he had established a rapport with, and he had a question he wanted to ask. Waiting until the end of their sparring session had only made his curiosity fester. Looking to change topics anyways, he simply blurted it out.
“The other night I was down in the Undergrowth with Fizz and Honeydrop. We heard a man bring up the possibility of war with the swamp witch. Any chance it’s not just rumor?”
“We have never had peace between the Shadowed Forest and the Stymphalian Swamps. It has been many years since either side has crossed the border in force. Raids and probing skirmishes can always become more. The uncertainty of war is the wellspring of fear, child.”
That was as definitive an answer as Eliana was going to give Cire. The old crone always delighted in the process of guided discovery. Cire bowed again and left the academy floors, preoccupied by the unavoidable fact that his own territory shared a border with this same aggressive foe.