“Alright, so, I need vanilla, cinnamon, some kind of citrus flavoring, and sugar. And water, obviously.” Katie frowned. “I mean I assume that this world has equivalents of those ingredients, because it did translate properly…”
Dorian glanced at Stella. The store manager was wide eyed and pale. “Uh, can we maybe go back to the bit about a group of people trying to end the world?” She blinked. “I mean, that sounds pretty important.”
Licking his lips, the shopkeeper tried to keep his own cool. Had the gods already discovered him somehow? As far as he knew, they were far from omniscient, and not only had he taken care to keep his activities undercover…
Well, his cult wasn’t exactly a major power yet. They had four members and had so far accomplished almost nothing other than gaining a few levels.
So why would the gods summon not one but three new worldwalkers in response?
Grimacing, Katie ran a hand through her hair. “I mean, I don’t really know much more than what I just told you,” she explained, “and I uh, I don’t really want to talk about it right now.”
Stella raised her hands defensively. “Sorry for prying. It just sounded kind of terrifying?”
Katie nodded slowly. “Yeah, the whole thing is pretty terrifying, I can agree with that.”
Dorian would imagine so. Being yanked into another world by a self proclaimed goddess and sent on a quest to defeat a world ending threat didn’t seem particularly appealing. Nor was being on the other end of the conflict — though unlike his apprentice, the cultist had made a choice.
“Tyler.” The young man looked up. “Do you remember the ingredients Miss McFly needs?”
“Vanilla, cinnamon, citrus, and sugar.”
Dorian and Katie both nodded. “So,” the shopkeeper continued, “do we just mix them in a particular proportion, or is there more to the procedure?”
Tilting her head, Katie spoke after a moment. “Mostly just mixing them. But first, can you use one of your alchemy skills to dissolve a gas in the water?”
The Alchemist scoffed. “Of course I can — I just need to know which gas.”
The young worldwalker frowned. “Hmm, I’m not actually sure how to explain this.” She paused for a moment, and Tyler set the collected ingredients down on the counter before taking a respectful step back, while Stella begrudgingly returned to the register to help a new customer.
“I need a concept,” Katie began. “In my old world, we would call it an element, but… I think that word means something different here, based on the associations I’m feeling.”
While he made sure to follow what she was saying, Dorian found himself intrigued by how she talked about language. He was idly curious about how the translation worked — how the gods could suddenly grant her the ability to read and speak two new languages.
He should ask Tyraleus. The old necromancer was sure to know something about the soul magic involved.
“I guess the easiest way to explain it is like… the different kinds of pieces that all compounds are made of.”
Returning his attention to what she was saying, Dorian rubbed his chin in thought. He had a feeling he knew what she meant. “Is water made of two pieces of one kind, and one piece of another?”
Katie nodded excitedly. “Yeah!”
“And gold is one, and iron is another?”
Katie confirmed it again. “Right,” the Alchemist continued, “we call those the unbreakable particulates.”
“Huh,” she muttered to herself, “so they know about atoms, but not smaller particles.”
Dorian blinked. Aside from her use of what sounded like a completely foreign word, what she implied there was fascinating. He would be sure to ask her more about it at some point.
“Anyway.” She looked back up to meet his gaze. “The gas I need has uh — two of the particulates that water has one of, and one of a third.” She furrowed her brow. “The third one is really common in living materials…”
“Is the compound commonly produced by fire?”
Katie nodded eagerly.
“We call that fixed air.” Grabbing a glass from one of the overhead cabinets, Dorian filled it with water from the nearby sink before setting it down on the counter. The shopkeeper then activated [Elemental Manipulation] and [Alchemical Manipulation in unison, creating a small gust of wind as he drew the specific gas from the ambient air and dissolved it into the water.
The glass began to hiss and fizz. Small bubbles formed, clinging to the sides of the clear container and slowly inching their way upwards towards the surface. Dorian canceled his skills.
“How high should the concentration be?”
Katie licked her lips. “I don’t actually know…” she leaned forward and scrutinized the glass. “But that looks about right, and if it’s too strong, we can just shake it a little.”
Shrugging, Dorian gathered up the remaining ingredients. “Any specific proportions, or do I just play it by feel?”
Gesturing vaguely with her hands, Katie took a moment to respond. “No, we can just figure it out by taste. It should be pretty sweet though.”
Retrieving a spoon from one of the drawers, the shopkeeper added the ingredients one at a time in conservative proportions. There was no need to overdo it or waste materials.
Once the sugar was completely dissolved, he brought three additional glasses to the counter and divided the drink approximately equally between them. After handing a glass to each of his apprentices, he then brought the third over to Stella.
“Cheers,” he said, raising his own final glass before taking a cautious sip.
It burned, but in a tingly and not quite unpleasant way. Tyler coughed. The young man’s face had turned slightly red. “It’s not bad,” the apprentice enchanter choked out, “but I was definitely not prepared for that.”
“It’s pretty sweet,” Stella commented, having finished dealing with the customer and having taken a sip of her own glass. “It’s not bad for a desert drink.”
The shopkeeper glanced at Katie. “It’s alright,” she said after a moment, “not perfect, but I never actually tried to make it myself — I just remembered the basic formula.”
The door chimed, and Dorian casually glanced in its direction. He had to lean forward over the counter to properly see the newcomer — Sora, Remus’s daughter. She wasn’t accompanied by her younger brother this time.
“Hey Mister Dorian!” She called up. “Dad — Mister Harken — sent me to tell you that they want you at the adventurer’s guild half past sunrise tomorrow morning.” She clambered up the nearest stool and set her elbows on the counter. “Oh, and he also said that Miss Katie is wanted back at the guild now, whoever that is.”
Grinning, Dorian beckoned his newest apprentice forward. “She’s right here,” he told the young girl, “and she just happens to be one of the Kingdom’s three new worldwalkers.”
Sora’s eyes widened and her jaw actually dropped open. Speechless, she gaped for several moments while Katie smiled and gave her a friendly little wave. Finally, the young girl managed to find her voice. “Woah! You’re really one of the worldwalkers?” Katie nodded. “Jeez,” Sora continued, “this is so cool!”
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Katie blushed. “I’m really not that special.”
Dorian snorted. “You may not think so — but that’s not how everyone else will see it.” He rapped his knuckles on the marble countertop. “You’ll need to get used to it.”
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“She said, and I quote, Hethaea said we were chosen to stop a hidden group of people who are trying to bring about the end of the world.”
The crypt erupted into chaos as soon as Dorian finished speaking.
“Fuck fuck fuck, we’re all gonna die!”
“See! I told you we have to strike first!”
“Oh my god, I knew this was a terrible idea, we’re so so fucked…”
Grimacing, Dorian pinched the bridge of his nose. The revelation was an unfortunate surprise, to be sure, but he wasn’t exactly in the mood to deal with the reactions of his fellow cultists. “Look, we need to stay level headed here,” he continued. “I know this sounds bad, but —”
“Bad? Bad?!” Stephen was now pacing back and forth frenetically. “We are absolutely, completely, totally screwed!”
Dorian anxiously patted his coat. While he himself had initially kept his cool, the young accountant’s nervous energy was infectious.
The old lich king’s dry voice buzzed around the crypt. “Well, if we truly are doomed, there’s no point in worrying about it, is there?”
The two other men shared a glance before looking at the cloaked skeleton. “If you truly believe that you are absolutely, completely, totally screwed, then there’s nothing stopping you from doing anything.” The necromancer paused. “Assured defeat is, in a sense, complete freedom.”
Slowly rising to his feet, Tyraleus continued. “One thing is for sure, I don’t think you want to spend your last moments tearing your hair out worrying about it.”
Stephen licked his lips and nervously ran a hand through his dark hair. “Right. Okay. Got it.”
Rubbing his chin, Dorian spoke after a moment of tense silence. “We can’t even be sure that we are the group she is talking about.” He thought back to his earlier reaction. “To be perfectly frank, we’re rather insignificant at the moment. There are plenty of other cults, and I doubt we’re ranked as a particularly high threat — if the gods even know about us at all.”
Stephen nodded slowly. “Okay, yeah, I can see that.” He took a moment to regain his composure. “We’ll still need to be careful though.”
“Obviously.” Tyraleus wrapped his cloak tighter around himself. “Though I still suggest we draft a plan for dealing with these troublesome pests.”
Stephen scoffed. “Still thinking about murdering them?”
“No.” The skeleton raised a single bony finger. “Our esteemed leader has pointed out that there are other cults in the area. I suggest we get someone else to do it.” He eyed the shopkeeper skeptically. “So, what do you suggest?”
Nodding slowly, Dorian spoke after a moment of consideration. “I admit I’m hesitant to suggest any sort of killing, and equally hesitant to reveal information to any of our rivals.” He had little faith in any other cult to have good motivations, and equally little faith in their competence. “However, I also recognize that we have to leave such options on the table.”
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The shopkeeper departed for the adventurer’s guild early the next morning. The sun had yet to rise fully above the horizon, and the air was crisp and still as he walked through the cobbled streets of the mercantile district. There were few pedestrians, though a fair number of the many businesses were beginning to open their doors.
He entered the sprawling wood and stone complex of the adventurer’s guild just as dawn broke. The lobby was mostly empty — the only other person was a gray uniformed young clerk.
“Good morning sir,” the clerk greeted him in a politely professional tone. “Is there anything I can help you with?”
Walking up to the desk, Dorian took his hands out of his coat pockets. “Good morning,” he replied, “My name is Dorian Skeil Winterborn — Mister Harken of the crafter’s guild requested my presence here this morning.”
The clerk’s face lit up in recognition. “Ah yes, Lord Skeil. You can head back to the main courtyard — I believe only one of the others is here yet.”
Thanking him, Dorian passed the desk and walked through the nearest door out to the rectangular stone courtyard. The central space was plain and completely devoid of decoration — its purpose was purely utilitarian.
As the clerk said, there was only one other person — a middle aged woman with dark skin and long, wavy hair whom the shopkeeper immediately recognized.
“Ah, Marian!” He greeted the healer, “I did not expect to see you here.”
His former adventuring party member grinned as he approached. “I could say the same to you.”
He stopped several paces in front of her and clasped his hands behind his back. The two old acquaintances scrutinized each other for a moment — until Dorian spoke.
“So, what is a fine, respectable lady like yourself doing here?”
Rolling her eyes, the healer scoffed. “The same as you, I suspect. I was selected to be the primary instructor of one of the new worldwalkers.”
Dorian sighed as well. “I see.” He grimaced. “And yes, I was chosen as an instructor as well — though only in alchemy. I believe someone else was chosen for combat.” He paused. “We’ve actually had one introductory lesson already — but I haven’t met the other two yet.”
Marian nodded cautiously. “What do you think so far?”
The shopkeeper immediately understood what she was asking — she wanted to know about the disposition of the worldwalkers. Though they had drifted apart over the years since their party had disbanded, they were still similar in many ways.
“I don’t think it will be too horrible,” he finally replied, “at least from what I’ve seen so far.”
It wasn’t a dishonest answer. If it weren’t for her being a threat to his goals as a cultist, Dorian wouldn’t have much to hold against Katie at this point.
Before Marian could formulate a response, the pair took notice of voices and footsteps coming from the entrance to the courtyard. Turning around, Dorian watched carefully as four figures stepped through.
His eye landed on Katie first — she was the first one to enter the courtyard. She was followed by two young men around her age — the first was a scrawny, freckled youth who could pass as Nordian, and the second was a tall, confident young man with darker skin and short, kinky hair. If the shopkeeper didn’t know that he was one of the worldwalkers, he would have assumed he was from the Riverways.
The final figure to enter was a colossal, bald, mountain of a man dressed in simple leathers. Dorian knew him as Warden Young, head of the Verdanport branch of the adventurer’s guild.
He glanced back at Marian and tilted his head towards the newcomers. The healer shrugged, and together they walked forward to meet them. Once they were several paces apart, the two groups stopped.
The branch leader dipped his boulderous head. “Thank you for showing up on time. I do realize it’s rather early in the day.”
“No need to worry on my part,” Dorian told him, “I like to consider myself an early riser.”
Marian flicked a lock of hair out of her eyes. “So, I presume these three are our newest worldwalkers?”
“Yes,” Warden confirmed. Glancing between the trio of young foreigners, the titanic man gestured to Marian. “May I introduce Senior Adventurer Lady Marian Zarya — healer, fleshcrafter, and kineticist.” Marian bowed her head slightly. “And Lord Dorian Skeil Winterborn,” Warden continued, “alchemist, enchanter, and elemental summoner. Formerly one of our senior adventurer’s as well.”
“Formerly?”
Dorian quirked an eyebrow at the scrawny young man’s interjection.
Paying the remark no mind, the branch leader brought a colossal hand to his rocky chin. To Dorian’s eyes, Warden had the appearance of simple hired muscle — though in truth, the man’s demeanor bellied a keen intellect. There was also a matter of scale to consider. Not only was the man large, he was strong enough to crack a lich over his knee.
Though that’s not to say that a man like old Tyraleus would sit still and take it.
“Together, they defeated an elder dragon that was moving towards this city twenty years ago, for which they both have our thanks.”
The young man interjected again. “How strong is a dragon?”
Warden glanced down and eyed him skeptically. He frowned in thought for a moment. “You’d die in one strike. A dozen levels from now?” He paused. “Yeah, you’d still die in one strike.” The young man fell silent, and Warden continued. “Our final instructor should be here shortly…”
Dorian idly glanced around the courtyard. It had been some time since the former adventurer had been inside the guild.
The unfamiliar worldwalker — the one who had asked about the dragon — spoke up again. “I’m Kyle by the way.” Stepping forward, he adjusted his posture to look more confident. “So far I’m an elementalist, have a mythical fire affinity, and Littaelia is my patron.”
Dorian immediately decided that he didn’t like Kyle. The young man seemed far more like the typical worldwalker than Katie. The shopkeeper wondered why the goddess of magic had chosen him.
The other young man shrugged and then smiled. “Well, since it looks like we’re introducing ourselves, I’m James. My patron is Arishi, and I’m a kinetic knight with a motion affinity.”
His introduction felt far more genuine than Kyle’s, and while his aura was confident as well, it was relaxed and not overbearing.
Katie went last. “Uh, hi, I’m Katie,” she said, “Mister Dorian and I have already met. I’m an alchemist with a gold affinity, and Hethaea is my patron.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Miss Katie,” Marian said, taking her hand.
They shook and stepped back. Dorian stepped forward. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said, taking James’s hand in a firm — but not crushing — grip. “…And you,” he said to Kyle, ignoring the young man’s outstretched hand.
Once Dorian had returned to his place beside Marian, Warden spoke again. “I’d like for us to relocate to Hockenfiel for at least the first month. The dungeon will obviously be great for training and getting their levels up, and we can also leverage the adventuring resources of the town.”
Nodding slowly, Dorian returned his hands to his coat pockets. “Would you like for me to come as well?” He assumed that the answer was yes.
“Yes,” Warden replied. “If you can relocate for the time being, that would be ideal. I’ll make certain that the guild reimburses you for the trouble.”
A new arrival made his presence known before the shopkeeper could reply. “Right then, what all do we have here?” Dorian was certain he visibly paled as the gruff voice boomed from behind Warden. Wide eyed, he shared a shocked look with Marian. Had the branch leader really chosen him?
A rugged male figure stepped around the edge of the group, coming fully into sight. Pinching his pants seam, Dorian did his best not to display a visible reaction. The newcomer had sandy blonde hair, a short, deliberately messily styled beard, and he scanned the group with cocky dissatisfaction.
Gareth. The third member of Dorian and Marian’s old adventuring party.
The shopkeeper tried his best not to glare as the spellsword introduced himself to Katie and then to the others. Not only had Gareth completely soured his relationship with Dorian and Marian after the three returned from slaying the dragon…
…the humble shopkeeper knew that his former friend was now another cultist.