Chapter 19: The Mage's Carapace
Subject: Caim Location: Maliscade - Commerce District - Ashera's Attires
“We’re here,” Mille announced. “Ashera’s Attires.”
Pink-tinted plate glass doors swung closed behind them. They weren’t the automatic doors of the Guild headquarters, but they left an impression of luxury all the same. The interior of the shop similarly fell short of the Guild’s technological exhibition, but it compensated for it with elegance.
Display tables were arranged around a large square room in layers of size. The largest three rectangular display cases faced outward from the center of the room. A counter occupied the space on the side facing the entrance, where an employee was stationed to assist with purchases.
The mannequins in each case guarded the center of the room. Tables gradually became smaller as layers moved outward from the center of the room to the border. All faced outward, with gaps to walk between them.
Like a theatrical depiction of a heavily-defended fortress, Caim realized.
But the shop didn’t at all feel uninviting. If anything, one felt safe walking amongst these frozen defenders, keeping their silent vigil.
An employee in the far corner looked over and waved to Mille with a bright smile. Mille waved back, projecting an enthusiastic green light. The two knew each other.
“Please see to the other customers,” the employee ordered someone who Caim assumed was an underling.
She gracefully navigating the crowded arrangement of tables toward Mille and Caim.
“Caim, this is my friend Ashera. Ashera, Caim is a prospective Seeker Initiate,” Mille introduced.
Ashera was tall, thin, and had delicately curled locks of golden hair. Lively green eyes scanned Caim. She looked to be in her mid-thirties, but her makeup warded off such guesswork.
The woman’s gaze didn’t feel intrusive. There was a practiced give-and-take, where Ashera’s eyes complimented Caim while she took in all that he was. All that could be gleaned at a glance, at least. That was the impression he got.
This was a place of business, and these manners seemed like they would encourage many to buy more than they planned to.
“Splendid to meet you, Caim,” Ashera greeted.
She gently bowed her head, bringing her left arm across her abdomen and locking her right behind her back in a dramatic flourish.
A tight dress of delicate, pastel green cloth clung her body. Golden embroidery traced a falling pattern of hexagonal trails across the front.
Caim returned the greeting and awkwardly tipped his body forward. Ashera flashed a polite smile. Tactfully, she ensured he didn’t feel embarrassed for having tried and failed to emulate the Shroud custom.
Seekers really aren’t known for having manners… I can tell.
“This fresh face isn’t just any seeker inductee. Is he perhaps…” Ashera giggled flirtatiously at what she was implying.
“No,” Mille clarified, flatly stifling the suggestion.
“I’m the friend of a friend,” he explained.
When Caim claimed to be Alice’s friend, Mille’s conduits flashed a peculiar shade of deep red. Caim had come to associate the color with hostility or discomfort. He regretted opening his mouth.
“Only a friend of Alice could pluck you from your nest,” Ashera guessed. Caim nodded, still worried that he had offended Mille. “I can see I’ve trespassed on a client’s personal matters. For that, I apologize.”
“You’ve done nothing of the sort,” Mille argued. “However, we are trying to complete Caim’s registration before daybreak.”
“Received and understood,” Ashera acknowledged.
Something Caim had immediately noticed about Ashera was that she was human. He felt terrible about this, but somewhere deep down, he had assumed that Mille would take him to a shop owned by a fellow faron.
Mille had called Ashera’s Attires her “favorite armor shop”, a place she directed all seekers to if she was given a chance. It was a stupid assumption. Caim could try to excuse it by reminding himself that he wasn’t used to life in Shroud or the life of a seeker, but another word for that was “prejudice”. Caim saw Mille for her faron identity more than he wanted to admit.
“Normally, I wouldn’t recommend anything but the armor offered here,” Mille explained in a low voice to Caim so no other customers could hear, “but you really need more everyday outfits. Seekers aren’t exactly known for their hygiene, but there are some standards that I hope you’ll keep in mind.”
Slightly embarrassed, Caim nodded furiously in agreement. Clothes? Why hadn’t this occurred to him back when he was panicking? How incredibly stupid. Saying he needed more everyday outfits was an understatement when all he had was what he was wearing.
“Trying to say something, Mille?” Ashera feigned disappointment with furrowed brows, a playful frown, and her hands on her hips.
Mille leaned in and spoke in a low whisper. Her serious stare snapped Ashera out of her act and forced her to lean closer in anticipation.
“You overcharge,” Mille stated. “When it comes to quality, your protective equipment is worth it. The same can’t be said for the rest. Not when it can be found elsewhere for less.”
“Ouch. Did you hear that lie, Caim?” Ashera asked. “I don’t know if I’ll ever recover from my friend treating me this way. After having neglected to stop by for such a long time, she comes only to wound me.”
Caim was about to respond when Mille held up an impatient hand to stop him.
“My friend will get over it. You go look over there for something simple that interests you, and I’ll see about finding something more protective for you.”
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Subject: Caim Location: Maliscade - Commerce District - Ashera's Attires
As he stared at clothes folded in neat piles at the base of a display mannequin, Caim thought about how different the shopping trip was from how he thought it would be. Wasn’t he supposed to be able to decide for himself?
I’m broke.
Wasn’t he supposed to be involved in the critical decision of what armor to purchase? Weigh the advantages and disadvantages of different materials against their costs?
I have no experience. How would I know what to choose?
His journey wasn’t anything like those of the heroes in those stories.
It was better to let his supposed life in foreign lands inform Mille’s decision. The boy he used to be lived in a “nowhere town” and received a sheltered education in magic. The young man he became knew nothing about the pros and cons of various materials and manufacturing processes. If the end result approached the truth, the best he could do was keep his mouth shut.
Back to choosing clothes within Mille’s budget. She said seekers receive a small stipend upon signing up, so at least I don’t need to worry about her paying for it out of her own coin pouch. Now… do I want light blue or dark red?
He hadn’t narrowed the choices to these two. There were only two colors in the style he had chosen. Looking at these clothes, Caim finally understood why people he’d met here in Shroud thought his outfit was fancy.
Though there were about nine distinct styles in the “clothes” section, only two fell within Caim’s budget. Only the more expensive variants were on display, so he was forced to guess what the light blue jumpsuit in his hand would look like.
“Good choice,” Mille commented out of nowhere, startling Caim. “It’s in our budget, very practical, and the color is closer to Guild blue than anything than the other one.”
“I only see two sizes,” Caim pointed out. “I think this one will be loose on me.”
While Caim spoke, he stared at what appeared to be a sizing chart behind the mannequin. He was able to interpret it just fine, even if Shroud’s units of measurement weren’t those he was accustomed to. He converted them to familiar ones in his head, but what was described was a range of sizes.
“Like I said, it is practical. The ‘form-threading’ will stretch or retract based on the body type of the wearer, solidifying after you’ve worn it enough,” Mille explained. “These clothes are common among practical Seekers who would rather spend their coin on equipment than clothes. You won’t stand out.”
Mille scanned Caim’s body, and he felt strangely uncomfortable with how deep her eyes traced him.
“If you were planning on putting on some muscle, you wouldn’t even need to get new clothes,” she reasoned.
Caim had always considered himself of slightly less than average height, but, here in Shroud, humans seemed to average marginally shorter. Similarly, his average musculature had become less than average here.
Different cultures, different lives. And now that Caim was here, he was going to be risking his new life in combat. Why? Because if the government found out what he was, what he had done, they’d probably eliminate him before asking questions.
“You wait here, and I will settle up,” Mille offered.
He didn’t have an opportunity to reply. She lifted the folded jumpsuit from Caim’s hands.
As his Guild escort turned her stance, Caim caught sight of male undergarments and varying-height pairs of socks in a paper bag.
“Oh, you don’t have to-” Caim began, but she stopped him.
“If I don’t take matters like these into my hands, you seekers would wear the same underwear for days on end, thinking it was acceptable.”
Stunned, Caim didn’t know what to say in response. Strangely, his pathetic silence didn’t receive more unkind words or even an expression of disgust. She wasn’t trying to insult him in this objectively embarrassing situation.
Alice is a stranger to me, but at least she and I almost died together. Mille is even more of a stranger, yet she is taking the liberty of purchasing my underclothes...
Mille put the clothes in the bag and placed it down on the floor. She looked right at Caim. The angular ears of faron, flint skin-tone, silver irises, and thistle-purple hair in neat buns. She was mysteriously alien to Caim, but a professional who was at home in the world of seekers and in the Bastion City of Maliscade.
“I mentioned before that I might have a personal use for you. You seem to want to know your place even before you are tested, so I’ll help. I want you to become a respectable seeker who won’t drag Alice down. She already sees you as a comrade, and I know your death would shatter her. You need to become worthy of that respect. Earn it.”
A spirited burst of green seized Mille’s conduits as she decisively placed her hands on his shoulders.
“Now, I’ll say the same thing I did to Alice when she was starting out,” Mille began. “I will look out for you so you can live longer. In exchange, help me make the Blightbane Guild something we can be proud of. We can be so much better if we work together. We can shine so much brighter if we feel we can rely on other seekers, not compete with them.”
This was the personality lying dormant in the hard-working Guild Clerk.
“Brute strength is a boon you’ll find on your own, but relying only on that kind of strength will see you fall short of life’s challenges. When I asked you why you wanted to be a seeker, you said something interesting. You called The Blight an enemy you could fight without worrying about doing the wrong thing. You are right, but The Blight is not an enemy we can cleanse alone. You need to devote your life to it. Most seekers never realize this. Other Guild branches fail to commit.”
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
“I promise, Caim replied. “You two helped me when I had nothing. Without you both, I still have nothing.”
“Remember that promise at your Initiation Ritual.”
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Subject: Caim Location: Maliscade - Commerce District - Ashera's Attires
Even with the thick black curtain separating them, Caim was uncomfortable knowing that Mille was right on the other side of the separator. Her presence was even harder to ignore because she was currently giving him a passionate lecture.
“You should never skimp on good protective gear. Too many Seekers do that, and it is just poor judgment for at least 90% of them,” Mille insisted.
Compared to Vera, this is actually less intrusive, he mused. But anyone outside the changing room must sympathize with me.
He removed his clothes, torn between listening to the well-meaning Guild employee and ignoring her for the sake of calming his jitters.
The armor Mille had chosen for him had been placed atop a wood counter jutting out of the fitting room’s far wall. The protective set had three layers to it.
Spread across the counter, it reminded Caim of the first time he had gotten a peek at ARC’s shipments on his last “project” with the “anonymous nonprofit”. It was one thing to get an idea in your head of doing something, but another entirely to see the tools needed to complete it.
Caim stepped into the first layer, a tight black bodysuit made of stretchy cloth. Once the bottom and top pieces were on, he flexed his puny muscles in the suit. The sizable fitting mirror on one of the walls showed the weakness he had already accepted.
“When in doubt... defense, defense, defense.” Mille preached.
The bodysuit revealed all of Caim’s muscular shortcomings to the world. Fortunately, the next layer was a collection of padded gray pieces of armor. These covered up much of his exposed body. One on each forearm, one on each lower leg, and another closed around Caim’s hip and abdomen. The last and most substantial piece of armor padding covered his chest and shoulders.
Once he had fitted all of them to his body, Caim was surprised at how lean they were. They appeared to be the bulk of what was going to actually protect him from injury in combat.
Each hip contained a moderately-sized pocket held shut with a strongly magnetized locking mechanism. After playing with it a little, Caim learned that he could open the lock by hand with relative ease. He tested the strength of its bond by trying to brush it open with his arm, but it held fast.
This strange inconsistency in attracting forces reminded Caim of familiar magnet-based technology. Instead, this lock used magic to produce a similar, useful effect.
Given the small size of the pockets, they wouldn’t hold much, but it was better than nothing.
“We don’t have as many seeker deaths here in Maliscade as there are in other comparable cities, but even a single preventable death is a failure,” Mille argued. “As a Guild employee, it is my responsibility to impress upon you the frailty of your mortal form. Your life is precious. I added a little coin to your budget to pay for armor slightly beyond your price range. You can repay me by staying alive.”
Such excessive generosity is wasted on me, he lamented.
Caim appreciated Mille’s efforts, though, he really did. It motivated him to fulfill his promise.
The final piece was a solid black hooded cloak. Thin, lightweight material was neither comfortable nor uncomfortable. Caim put it on and looked in the mirror.
The cloak hugged Caim’s body so as not to interfere with his mobility. With the hood down, he didn’t think he would stand out against the other seekers. Even if he decided to put the hood on, it wouldn’t be that strange, surrounded by many others who he’d seen do the same.
Just then, he noticed the simple pair of black boots and heavy blue-gray belt previously hidden beneath everything else. Caim put them on and looked back at the mirror.
The soon-to-be seeker felt a rush of undeserved pride while staring at his armored form. He welcomed the pride but, like a parasite, something came with it.
It was a sobering fear.
I’m not like the other seekers. What am I getting myself into? I’m going to die.
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Subject: Caim Location: Maliscade - Commerce District - Ashera's Attires
“Turn full circle for me,” Mille ordered.
Caim complied. She repeated the request and, again, he obliged. When he stopped turning, Mille reached out and swept her hands across his armored body, pulling here and patting there.
The Guild Clerk didn’t ask for permission. She had seemed less invested in Caim before the promise she’d ask him to make. Less invested and more respectful. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate her newfound interest, it was just that he had wanted it to come with less... forcefulness.
Unintentionally, he’d found himself in the middle of a friendship where one friend revered him as something he wasn’t, while the other saw him as a prelude to disappointment.
“Not bad,” Mille remarked, but her expression was as placid as ever. “The ‘Mage’s Carapace’ set suits you.”
She reached into his cloak and began tugging at each individual armor piece within. Caim felt embarrassed and flustered, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t know what to say.
“The vambraces need to be taken in a little,” she reported. “I’m sorry, Caim, I must have misjudged the girth of your arms. If physical training or blightseed accumulation changes your body before you grow out of this armor entirely, you can always come back here and get it refitted.”
“That you can,” Ashera chimed in from behind, making Caim jump.
He had been so focused on Mille’s hands that he hadn’t noticed the owner creep up. Mille continued to pat and pull. When she was done, Caim felt grateful for what little she had trusted him to take care of on his own.
“The rest fits well. Do you have freedom of movement?” Mille asked.
“Yes, it is surprisingly light,” he replied, rotating his shoulders, bouncing his knees, and turning his head.
“Good. More importantly, it is protective. I know you are a ‘Cloak’, fit for the backline, but you’ll be alone until you can find a party,” Mille explained.
“You never cease to amaze me with your ability to eyeball measurements,” Ashera complimented. “I run this shop, and even I can’t do it as well as you.”
Mille smiled, somewhat embarrassed. That smile looked more like a human expression. Of course, she was projecting a happy green flicker through her conduits, but it wasn’t often Caim had seen her emote with the other parts of her face.
But I’m the one who should be embarrassed here, Caim realized.
Still, he was glad to have Mille’s help, because he wouldn’t have even thought about armor fitting. He was used to an entirely different form of attire, mass-produced by technology. A world apart. This was yet another reminder of how unprepared he was.
“You do fine here for yourself,” Mille countered. “I need to know at a glance whether an Initiate is ill-equipped because, in a crowded room, a glance is all I’ll get. But you won’t get anywhere with flattery when it comes to me. And I hate to say it, but this boy is broke. Charm him all you want, you’ll just be wasting your time.”
“But what if it isn’t coin that I’m after?” Ashera winked. “What if I wanted my friend to visit more?” She looked in Caim’s direction, and he flinched. “And what if I said that I can tell this ‘boy’ is special?”
“I’ll visit more when I get some time off, I promise. And about Caim, I’d say it was wishful thinking.”
Ashera wasn’t deterred by Mille’s words. However, unlike Mille, she kept her hands off him.
“Even if you don’t see it yet, you will,” Ashera predicted. “His stance, subtle differences in his mannerisms… the places he chooses to look. He may not be muscular, but he is special. I sense fresh perspective. Intelligence.”
No, Caim wanted to say, but he stayed silent.
He decided that he could use this opportunity to change back into his regular clothes.
“Don’t go back in,” Mille ordered, just as he began stealing toward the fitting room, away from her overly familiar hands. “It would be good for you to break it in a little before you wear it in combat. That way, you’ll also get a better feel for the difference in weight.”
He nodded, unable to argue with her reasoning. Caim felt uncommonly powerful wearing the armor, so he couldn’t complain.
“Besides, don’t you want to show it off a little?” Ashera added. “Many find themselves drawn to the visage of a Seeker.”
Caim blushed.
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Subject: Caim Location: Maliscade - Commerce District
Mille guided Caim to one more shop before they made the return trip. On the way back to the Tether Transit station, she decided to quiz him.
“Where should you go for armor and clothing?” she asked.
“Ashera’s Attires,” he answered, trying not to let the frustration at being treated like a child show in his voice.
Follow up questions forced him to demonstrate that he knew he could have his armor fitted there. Then, Mille made sure he remembered where the shop was located, relative to the Commerce District station.
“Where should you go for general exploration equipment and seeker provisions?”
“The Mundane Treasury.”
Caim made sure the expensive “respite shard” Mille had advised him to buy was still safely stored in his armor’s hip pocket.
“Remember that those healing salves aren’t as fast-acting as magic. It is a formula that relies on ingredients harvested from festerfonts. You really should learn Vitality magic to save you from having to resupply as often.”
“We rushed in and out of the general store before you could explain exactly what that ‘Initiate’s Package’ was. This manual has the Guild emblem on it, right?” he asked, producing a compact paperback book from his pocket and pointing to the symbol on the front.
“You are correct. The Mundane Treasury and Ashera’s Attires are both Guild partners. They are permitted to sell that manual and other Guild publications. Packages like that are good for seekers who don’t know what they should buy, offering them at a slight discount.”
“What benefit does the Guild receive for having partners like that? A cut of the profits?”
“No, not at all. What we gain is far more valuable. The Guild’s goal is to keep seekers from dying and to stave off the Blight, one blightbeast at a time. Information is power, and partners spread information that keeps seekers alive. Beyond that, partners also share information with the Guild and sometimes send people wishing to sell certain rare blightsources, resources harvested from festerfonts, our way. It is very beneficial to all parties.”
They arrived at the station. While they descended, Caim flipped through the pages of the book titled A Seeker’s Survival Guide.
“Woah,” he exclaimed. “Blue ink on black pages.”
Mille turned to him and flashed what he assumed was a mildly puzzled face. It barely looked any different from her resting expression.
“The books I’m familiar with have white pages and black text. And the pages are thinner,” Caim explained.
“What kind of sun-scoured parchment paper did your academy use to produce that result? Is there some kind of magical benefit to dying pages white?” Mille queried, seeming genuinely interested.
Caim was sorry to disappoint her.
“I don’t know. I only know that it seems like this would be harder to read in the dark.”
“You are either incredibly tired, or you have never seen glimmer ink before. If anything, a dyed page would make it harder for the ink to soak up the chemicals it feeds on.”
She reached over and tapped the spine of the book thrice. The ink began to glow.
“Just how far away was your academy?” she asked.
“It feels farther away by the second,” he replied, a wave of sadness washing over him.
“Alice is my home,” Mille shared. “She made Maliscade feel more like home when I was still an outsider. Even though I had been living in this city for some time, I was disconnected, trying to make changes in the Guild and getting frustrated by slow progress.”
Mille didn’t act like Alice at all. Caim couldn’t fathom how the two even met in the first place, let alone how they got along so well.
Oh, I guess they must have met at the Guild. But there must be more to the story. I’ll ask sometime.
“You mentioned this before… In my eyes, the headquarters is magnificent. It is almost like ‘heroes halls’ from the stories I’ve read, but even more organized.”
“Stories about seekers?” she wondered.
“Stories about heroes who fight and heroes who don’t, working together toward a common goal and cooperating as a family.”
“I have read stories about Shaden heroes. Righteous human warriors slaying heretics, and communities of faithful that support them,” Mille mumbled. “Usually those heretics are subhumans like me… which can make them a little difficult to get into.”
Caim put the book away and shook his head. What his companion was describing was nothing like the stories he remembered.
“My stories have heroes who are flawed people of many backgrounds. They don’t have to always agree, but they have a shared reason for doing what they do. My favorites involve finding ways to bring people together and negotiate peace, freeing oppressed populations.”
Walking beside him down the tunnel to the Tether Transit cabin, Mille moved closer to Caim and whispered.
“Was your home a place of true equality? Did you feel like you were one people?” she asked.
“No,” came Caim’s serious reply. “But it could have been if the people with the power made different decisions. It could be like that here, too.”
“It sure seems like that when you don’t have the power,” Mille mused, still whispering.
She strapped herself into the Tether Transit cabin chair, projecting an inquisitive purple through her conduits.
“I think that is something like what Vera said to me,” Caim remembered. “I think she claimed to want a more balanced and gentle world, but attempting to provide a solution would only make things worse.”
They paused their conversation while the Tether Transit employee made sure they were safely secured, resuming once he had left.
“Forgive me for asking, but was Vera human? It sounds like she had power, and I don’t know any faron, cartemi, or any other species than human with members like that. Not power like that you describe, at least.”
Mille seemed hopeful. She really wanted to hear about this world of equality. She had lived in Shroud her whole life, so, if there actually were faron in power elsewhere, she didn’t know anything about them.
Caim could share this much, especially after Mille had been helping him so much.
“No, Vera was not human,” he confirmed.
He struggled to access these memories but only succeeded in triggering a dull headache.
I think I just contradicted myself. Hopefully, she won’t notice.
“I don’t really understand it, but the power disparity wasn’t related to species. I think. I don’t think Vera told me enough… I’m sorry. But she did have a plan.”
“I don’t think it will help me understand if you don’t know yourself, but could you share anything about this plan?” Mille inquired. “I must confess my deep curiosity.”
“Vera said the plan somehow related to me, to the magic she gave me.”