Chapter 30
Ursula Urban was old.
Jessica was a little afraid to ask how old for several reasons. Most obviously just because it was impolite. But also because she knew that the Urban family matriarch was powerful. She wouldn’t be the matriarch of she was weaker than Ubo, and Jessica had seen first hand how powerful he was. It was, apparently, a well established fact on Reus that high levels equated to slow aging.
Antoine, for example, was level one hundred and six, and he was one hundred and twenty-four years old. Yet he had the appearance of a man barely into his forties.
Similarly, King Fenard was a high level merchant. He was in his eighties in both level and age. At least, if Jessica was understanding what she was hearing of Welsian history. Yet although he wasn’t as high leveled as Antoine, he also had the appearance of a man much younger than he truly was. Late forties at the oldest.
Ursula, however, looked ancient.
She was a small old lady, with gray hair and a slightly bent back. Her eyes were sharp, however, as was her tongue.
She sat in a rocking chair with needlepoint in her hands. Except she wasn’t holding the needle. Not with her hands, at least. The sharp instrument flew through the air on strands of magic. Jessica marveled at the level of technique that must take. Vella’s mouth draped open in amazement.
The rest of the room was filled with shelves of quilts and pillows which were each uniquely decorated with needlepoint. Jessica had no doubt that each of them had been crafted by exactly the same technique the woman was using now, with exquisite care for detail.
“Who are these strangers you bring into my house, little Ubo,” she said after her grandson – Jessica learned that Ubo was her grandson along the way to the capital, another indication of her age – kissed her on the cheek in greeting.
“You remember Vella of course, Grandmother,” Ubo said.
“The girl you said has promise?” Ursula asked. Then she scoffed. “You say that about all the outsiders you bring under your wing, little Ubo.”
Ubo wasn’t a small man. Rather, in the Welsian dialect there was a prefix that was used before a small child’s name as a term of affection. Ursula was using that prefix despite talking to a grown man.
“I wouldn’t take an apprentice if I didn’t believe they had promise,” Ubo pointed out. “Even if they did have the king’s recommendation.”
“Yes, well, who are these two strangers then?” Ursula demanded.
“They’re Heroes from Earth,” Ubo explained. “On the left is Emil Stefanson. He has the subclass of Ritualist, and from what I’ve seen he is quite frankly a genius in the field. I was hoping to introduce him to Ulan, since they share a common passion.”
“Hmph. You don’t need permission to do that. Why are you really here?” Ursula questioned.
“This is Jessica Small. She’s a Sorceress and an Illusionist. An instinctual magic user who so far possess Fire Mastery, light, and sound Skills. I’m hoping to study her Skills to discover new secrets and spells,” Ubo continued.
“Another thing you don’t need my permission for. And I could have guessed that’s who she was since that’s who we sent you to speak with the other day after learning that she existed. So I ask again, little Ubo. Why are you here?” Ursula asked, this time more pointedly. “Are you simply wasting my time, when I don’t have very much of that left?”
“You’ve been saying that you don’t have very much time left since I really was little, Grandmother,” Ubo pointed out.
“And it’s more true now than it was then,” she agreed.
“You’ll outlive us all.”
“Stones I hope not. Why are you here?”
Ubo sighed. “I want to open a school.”
“Is that so?” Ursula asked. “And who would run it? Who would pay for it? Is the Urban family expected to foot the bill for that?”
“We could charge tuition,” Ubo pointed out. “With your blessing, I’m certain that we could put together a faculty in short order. There’s a new generation of mages, and not enough of the old guard to teach them all through apprenticeships. It would be more efficient--”
“Okay,” Ursula said. “Is that all?”
Ubo blinked for a moment. “Yes, I suppose it is. As long as ‘okay’ means that I --”
“Yes you little miscreant you have my blessing. Congratulations, you are now headmaster of the Urban School for Magic,” she said. “I’ve already drawn up the documents. Just write your name in where it says headmaster. I wasn’t certain which one of my children or grandchildren or your cousins would both get the idea for it and work up the nerve to ask me, so I left that blank.”
“Oh,” Ubo said. A rolled up parchment floated out from one of the shelves and into his hand. He opened it to find a charter, signed by Ursula and King Fenard, to open a school dedicated to the training of the next generation of Mages.
“You were really just waiting for us to think of this on our own?” He asked.
“And to volunteer,” she said. “I’m a little surprised that you were the first one to both come to the conclusion that it was necessary and to step forward.”
“Ah. Well, the truth is that the Heroes from Earth were the ones who put the idea in my head. These two, and another who is occupied elsewhere,” Ubo explained.
“Nobody lives in a vacuum,” Ursula said. “Is there anything else?”
Ubo considered for a moment, then said “There’s a reason you’re sidestepping this, isn’t there?”
“Too late, you’ve volunteered, you can’t take it back!” Ursula said, cackling.
Ubo sighed. “Wonderful.”
~~~~~
The king joined them on schedule, then bowled a few games with them while they waited for dinner to be served. Rowena once again joined them as well, although she was content to watch.
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
Unlike the bowling alleys that Grant was used to on Earth, the pins in the palace’s bowling lanes were set up by hand. Specifically by a pair of page boys who rushed to do their task with moderate enthusiasm. While they had been waiting, Grant had entertained both them and Tom with some of his anecdotes.
They started a new game to include the king, and conversation quickly drifted to business.
“This isn’t the first time someone has tried to organize the adventurers and dungeon delvers, you know,” King Fenard said. “Several organizations like the one you are founding right now have risen and fallen over the ages.”
“Is that so?” Grant asked. “What was their downfall, so that I might avoid repeating their mistakes?”
“Lack of funds and interest, mostly,” King Fenard admitted. “The entrance fee was excessive in one instance and it withered on the vine, as few were willing to pay the price for what services were offered. In another instance, the services they could afford to offer their members weren’t typically seen as worth the effort of membership, and that one too died out within a few years of its beginning.”
“Good thing my future husband is a mister money-bags. That shouldn’t be an issue, should it?” Rowena asked.
“That depends on how long Tom is willing to operate at a loss,” Grant admitted. “I’m envisioning this to be a true business, and even the non-profit and charity organizations of my world need to worry about financial matters.”
“I really can’t believe that you’re making me the founder,” Tom objected. “It’s Grant’s idea, and he’s the one who’s going to be doing all of the work. Why not him?”
“Because you need the status of being the head of a guild and he doesn’t,” Fenard explained. “I’ll be honest with you, Tom, I danced a little jig when I got your message last night because it’s exactly the sort of thing I was looking for in order to place your social status closer to the rank where it belongs. You’re too important to the world for people not to know who you are, and there are going to be questions.”
“So let them ask. What does it matter?” Tom said.
“It simply does,” Grant said. He sighed. “Tom, you probably don’t realize just how much of a scene we just caused. At least, if I’m guessing right. Two nobodies, one from Earth and another from an estate that nobody has ever heard of, won the charter to start an official guild. This is going to cause waves throughout both high and low society, and everyone is going to either want to help us, hinder us, or know how we’re doing.”
“Unfortunately Grant is correct,” Fenard agreed. “I have tried to align things as much as I can in your favor in the background, but there’s only so much I can do. Or that my advisors can do.”
Tom sighed. “I don’t understand why we can’t just say that I’m a Controller and have that be enough. I mean, you wouldn’t even know my name if I hadn’t awoken this Class. I wouldn’t be important to the kingdom if I were a Commoner or a Weaver or a Trader. So why not just tell the truth?”
“That, Tom, is actually an excellent question,” Fenard said. He sighed. “Unfortunately it has to do with politics and traditions that go back centuries. When the Controller class was commonplace, or at least more commonplace than it is now, there was no suppression of the knowledge. Controller was seen as the Class of the royal family, just as Mage is considered the Class of the Urbans.
“It was only as the prevalence of your class fell that the suppression began, and it began to avoid alarming the populace,” Fenard continued. “The topic was well known in the writings of six hundred years ago, but virtually unknown two hundred years ago. There has been no reason to correct that oversight until now. You may not have noticed, but I publicly called you the Welsian Controller during open court. I apologize for not discussing it with you first, but we should now discuss the consequences.”
Tom had, in fact, missed that detail. “I don’t see a problem with it. I’ve made no secret of what my class is.”
“The issue is that you’re formally recognized as The Welsian Controller,” Grant said. He sighed. “You’ve really painted him into a corner, Fenard. You’ve both outed his class, and assigned him into a high profile position, all in one sweep.”
“And I’d be more sorry about it if it weren’t for the circumstances,” Fenard admitted. “Tom, Welsius needs you. As do the other nations of the world, but Welsius is your homeland. I haven’t discussed the ongoing collapse in Velund. It is now time to correct that oversight.”
Tom’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “You’re not going to suggest that I go there and try to turn back the tide, are you?”
“I fear that matters are too far progressed for that,” Fenard answered. “Three quarters of the cities of Velund have had their Cores collapse and begin leaking miasma. Those that remain are likely not very far behind. I fear that in ten years, Velund will be known as the eastern blight, rather than the thriving nation that it was just last year.”
“That is most unfortunate,” Grant agreed. “And what is Tom supposed to do about it?”
Fenard sighed and threw a gutterball. “Velund is not going quietly into the night. They are gathering an army the size of which none of the other nations could compete with, even united against the threat. They have not yet declared war, so we know not if they intend to invade Welsius or Petosh.”
“And how am I supposed to help against that?” Tom asked. “I’m not a fighter, Your Majesty. Aside from my monsters, I’m no better in combat than the average Commoner.”
“And how many monsters can you control at once, Tom?” Fenard asked. He looked at Tom meaningfully, and Tom realized that the king intended to supplement the nation’s forces with an army of monsters.
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Your Majesty,” Tom said. “I’m not certain if there is a limit or not. But if there is a limit, and I break it, what would happen? Isn’t it possible that I’d lose control of all of the monsters at once?”
Fenard sighed. “Yes, I suppose that’s a risk that’s only worth taking when our backs are truly against the wall. However, there are two other abilities which you possess which I must ask that you employ for the sake of your homeland, Tom.”
“Technically you’ve asked me to use every ability I’ve gotten so far,” Tom commented.
“I’m speaking specifically of Summon and Evolve, in this case,” Fenard explained. “With their entire nation’s worth of adults to conscript, I doubt that we’ll be able to match their numbers. However, I expect that the majority of their forces will be Commoners and Tradespeople forced into the levy. If we had an army of Class holders to answer them with, perhaps we would gain the upper hand.”
Tom was silent as he considered the possibility. “I guess I don’t have any problem with Evolving any volunteers that you ask me to,” Tom admitted. “However, I’m not certain I like the idea of Summoning someone to a strange world just to immediately conscript them into a war that has nothing to do with them. That seems extremely unethical.”
Rowena began laughing. “Oh my. Jessica will have a laugh at that when I tell her.”
The others turned to look at her. “Whatever for?” Fenard asked.
“Oh, nothing, nothing,” she said. “It’s just that she said the same thing about some of the stories from Earth. Ish ah kai or something. But honestly I don’t see a problem. You don’t want to make them fight, that’s fine. Don’t. Give them some money and let them go off on their own, or, I don’t know, hire them to work in this gigantic organization that you’re supposed to be founding.”
Tom frowned, considering the girl’s advice. “I mean, they’d have a few options I guess,” he admitted. “If I summoned every person from Earth that I can right now, then we’d have almost thirty of them.”
“A few people from Earth to help found the Adventurer’s Guild would certainly help get the ball moving,” Grant agreed. “Not all of them will be as grateful to you as I am for this second chance at life, but if they don’t want to work for us, then you can always give them enough coin for three years and leave them to find their own way. That is the deal that you gave the four of us who came through previously, and it’s certainly better than the alternative, considering that we were dead before you summoned us.”
“The opportunities are quite varied this time around,” Fenard agreed. “Now that it is known that there is a Controller who can Summon people from Earth, there will be an interest in such heroes. Or non-heroes. Now that the veil of secrecy is lifted whoever comes through will be able to openly discuss their origin, and it may open doors that are closed to the natives of this world.”
“Or not,” Grant said. “But I agree with you on principle. Since we have opportunities for the Summonees to fill, without coercing them into slavery or indentured servitude, there doesn’t seem, to me, to be any reason not to Summon them.”
Tom considered for a few moments, then nodded. “Alright, but we’ve got to get ready for them. There’s going to be a lot.”