“Now, now,” An older man with balding black hair chants to calm the aggressive tones rising between the table. “There is no need for harsh language. Our ideals may differ, but we share the goal of enriching the lives of those we represent. Josia, I understand your Carpenter guilds point of view. If we agree to exchange lumber, its very possible that Arna and Reynold’s could undercut the market of your mills. But ask yourself, what they would gain by doing that?”

“Money,” was the immediate thought, but even this reasoning stood on shaky ground as soon as the word came out of Josia’s mouth.

Before he could continue the thought however, the heavily adorned nobleman who’d spoken the question shook his head and rebuked him firmly. “Money isn’t their concern. Not even considering the partnership with the village itself, the deals I have helped them conduct with my court friends and former vassals already count in the millions of coin. I mean no offense, but your lumber market is a drop in a bucket. Not even worth their time.”

“If that’s true,” The masonry guild master asked, rubbing his long-greased beard. “Then for what reason are they so interested lumber?”

“They said making metal. I’ve never heard of anything like forming metal from wood, but I’m hesitant to think it’s a lie.” The chancellor shrugged thinking of the half explanation he’d received from Third. “If I recall correctly he said they will burn the wood until it transforms into some new substance, this substance when combined with iron is very important to them.”

“It couldn’t be…” The masonry guild master pondered quietly as a material made from Iron appeared in his mind. He was under the impression it wasn’t possibly to make in large quantities, even the dwarves had struggled to find a method, but if it were them, then perhaps.

“We won’t make any progress by guessing.” Matilda impatiently griped, shooting a gaze towards the rapidly setting sun. “It doesn’t seem like we have any opposition to the transaction. We leave it in your capable hands as always Chancellor.”

“I will not disappoint.” The chancellor bowed humbly after receiving no differing opinion from around the table.

With the mess finally cleared up Matilda was the first out the door. She cared little for this micromanaging and over-consideration regarding every decision. Her responsibility was to the shopkeepers and patrons, managing lumber rights and local salt prices didn’t matter to her unless it directly affected the businesses in the village.

A breeze fluttered against her path as she briskly maneuvered back towards the bar she’d left unattended. She prepared a half-hearted apology as she wrenched the door open, but instead of upset patrons she was met with an odd silence.

It hadn’t been long, had the regulars grown bored so quickly? She didn’t see it likely considering the state she’d left them in.

An eerie chill ran her spine as she cautiously glanced around the distant booths and vacant stools.

“Hel..” She began to call out until an unmistakable sound stripped the sound from her lips.

Her legs moved as quickly as they could, carrying her past the corner of the bar and through the heavy doorway at incredible speed.

“Watch o-” A voice attempted to call out, warning Matilda of her imminent danger.

Too little too late, as the sharp point of the woman’s small cane thrust forth without even so much as a glance towards her target.

Matilda was no slouch however, with the fraction of advanced notice her muscles tensed, and she smoothly ducked away from the thrusted spike with a carefully practiced motion.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

“Bah.” The old woman spat with a glare towards the hooded student she’d dragged with her. Not giving Matilda an inch of breathing room, the old woman continued striking out towards the eyes. After ten or twenty impossibly fast movements between the two, the old woman again spat as if she’d grown tired. The cane in her hand spun and with a blur knocked heavily against the side of Matilda skull.

The noise that rang out would cause anyone to flinch, but Matilda’s reaction to the strike would be even more unexpected.

She fell heavily to her knees as if all the energy in her body had been sapped by the short bout.

“Mas-” She panted out, clutching at her heart as the agonizing pain seared through her arteries. “Master, you…”

“I am?” The woman interrupted, mocking agape. “What have I taught then? Nothing?”

Matilda silently swallowed the chastising tone as if deserved. She wondered, if not warned would her old master have truly taken her eyes this time? She was completely unguarded and unprepared. Even with the inkling she had, she still hadn’t been able to predict the attack even a second in advance.

What had the woman been wasting her time on if Matilda was unable to even see what lay in plain sight.

“I’m sorry master.” Matilda bowed deeply once her heartbeat had settled into pace. “I have no excuse.”

“And you!” The old woman bellowed turning her empty eyes to where her younger student anxiously stood.

Two loud thumps of knees meeting the ground answered her simple words as the hooded head dropped to the ground, spilling a few auburn locks from underneath the hood. “I should not have spoken out.”

“Fool!” The old woman growled, slamming down her cane with such force it pierced the weathered floorboard beneath her feet. “You should have swept my feet and crushed my skull with that cauldron!”

Neither student said a word as the ancient woman threw a finger towards a massive pot sitting beside the fireplace.

“If you are going to act, act.” The woman nearly whispered after her outburst chilled into something reminiscent of a dangerous warning. “But before you act know your steps, how could either of you think to walk if you can’t even see.”

The accusations, made by the blind woman the two called their master, dug deeply into the students without them even understanding why. They weren’t aware of the various mistakes they had already made, the irreversible consequences of each spilled seed and trodden flower.

The woman shook her head at the naivety of the two before eventually yanking the point of her cane from the floorboard with ease. Pointing towards a small desk with the stick and sniffing at the air, the woman finally addressed Matilda directly.

“That did nothing to clear your mind?” She asked without bothering to narrow down the vague direction.

Matilda didn’t need to ask however, and that only served to hurt her pride further. Her master was without a doubt referring to the small drop of blood that had never stopped bothering her. What had she missed, Matilda couldn’t shake the question, but she was wise enough not to ask aloud.

Cracking open an eye and sending it to the cloaked figure a short distance from her, Matilda could only see a small glimpse from the poor vantage point of burying their faces into the dirty floorboards. The figure seemed to detect the glance however, as her eyes peeked underneath the rough brim to share a shaky smile.

“See.” The woman demanded as a scrap of wood slaps the top of the younger students bowed head. “And get up, both of you.”

Carefully righting themselves, the two get a better look at each other as the younger plucks the small wood slip from the floor.

Pulling the hood from her head as she slowly examines the slip, Matilda softly gasps. An endearing glint danced in her verdant irises as they centered onto the small blood drop. Her chalky pale skin, peppered with light freckles, twisted and morphed as her focus manifested in a series of expressions.

“I suppose if it came to use for Camilla then you aren’t entirely a waste.” The old woman nodded with reassurance as her youngest student began staring blankly after a brief moment of concentration.

Kicking herself as the continuous attacks rained verbally from her master, Matilda almost ignored the small piece of information her Master had dribbled. “Camilla…”

Mouthing the name in her head, Matilda eyes widened in realization as she turned between her master and the Young Queen who sat entranced beside her in the old storeroom.

Following the realization, a burst of weight and fatigue vanished from where it had parked in her mind. And mere moments after the Queen had done so, Matilda’s own eyes quickly glazed over as thousands of interlinking sensations all began aligning into a solidary truth.

Matilda’s truth would differ from the Queen’s, and their's would both differ hugely from their master’s. But they all coexisted as truth.

“When last have so many seers gazed together like this? I wonder.” The old woman asked the wind as the clouds covering her eyes flared and swirled like great storms. Eventually, with no response coming she laughed out a piercing cackle.