Melisa hid behind her desk, enraptured by the two Greys and four Militants who all watched Magus Doherty’s magic-circle. News had travelled quick once Yilin had released the Cognisance Chamber data. James Scanlan’s data. Melisa held her own copy under her desk, praying her supervisor wasn’t watching her with Arcane Eye.
This James Scanlan, he was an anomaly alright. Returning to Melbourne, after gaining citizenship in London, bloody London! The arrogance to waltz into the Tower, to Enchant a fricking Militant, and what’s worse is he bloody got away with it too! She couldn’t describe the feelings of rage and frustration she had felt when talking to him earlier, but now she knew what had rubbed her the wrong way.
Melisa felt a feeling much similar to that of all other working-class Tower denizens; envy. To work day in and out, coming from a humble family of Fire and Earth mages, never having been gifted an opportunity or chance beyond a public education - she was fuming at the thought of a Magus who had so obviously been pampered his whole life. He would have been gifted everything since he awakened - his VMI status was obviously a false reading. How else could this Magus Scanlan have achieved near Magister level prowess in his 28 years of life?
Melisa calmed herself down by circulating her Earth-mana, blanketing the burning flame within her with stones and dirt. Most Fire-mages called her lucky for her secondary Affinity, but Melisa only felt as a failure. She had awakened late to her secondary Affinity, on the back of years of toiling as an Evocation-mage in surrounding orange-zones. She attempted excursion after excursion and yet she’d always fallen short of being above the average. It fractured something within her.
She was from Bright; a sub-alpine village that survived due to a vast green-zone within the base of the Victorian Alps. It was a fertile valley, many wineries and adventurers stopped at her family’s small corner of the world. It was how her family came to be. Adventure.
An intoxicating draught of danger and glory, adventure. It promised a life of meaning, if not a life of memories. Her Mother was born within Bright, an Earth-mage Tier 2 Affinity. She hadn’t been anything special, a basic Transmutation-mage and so she’d remained in the valley. Her father had been an adventurer in his own right, but he’d accepted a hard-working life with the birth of his daughter.
Melisa’s father, however, was a different beast to her mother. Hailing from a small family situated in Geelong, an hours train from inner-Melbourne, he had gone to Bright seeking adventure. An orange-level dungeon sat at the top of the Alps, amongst the peaks of and falls of the Bogan High-plains. He had accept the call to arms, and Melisa’s mother was swept up in his wake.
The two trained and came to love each other, each occurred with passion. The retellings by Melisa’s Grandma were enough to bring her Grandpa to a deep red blush. Even with his Earth-mana circulating. From all reports they had been a dynamic pairing. Melisa wished she could have known it personally. But it had not come to pass.
Melisa burned the evidence of James’ stolen data, and kicked the ashes into a bin under her desk. She hated it. To be powerless in a world of Mythic beings and fantastical predators, human and monster alike; Melisa allowed frustration to simmer in her belly.
She hated knowing her job was going nowhere. She despised it all right then. She returned to watching the Greys and Militants. The magic-circle was glowing.
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Time to feel out the factions. And also time for lunch.
The Greys approached him first as he exited the magic-circle. They were keen as to why James was at the Tower, intrigued as to what his purpose was in coming to Melbourne. He told them he was visiting family and friends so far. They sniggered at him, but were respectful enough to leave him be. There was no trace of fear in their eyes - only the malaise of defiance.
The Militants were much bolder in their actions. They boxed him in after the Greys departed. They slowly guided him towards another teleportation alcove, asserting their dominance overtly.
Backing force so easily, without a trace of nuance in their approach; the hostility of the Tower was well-founded.
James declined moving when they were five or so metres away from the intended alcove. They all halted.
“I am a busy man, and I do not take kindly to distractions.” James composed his most authoritarian voice. It was a mixture of two characters.
The first character was the General; bred for battle, a veteran of tactics, and a figure who was not to be questioned. James conceived this character for one of his more ambitious projects, under Madam Ouvrier’s guidance. He could remember the looks on the mages faces when this hardened General was brought low by his NoM love. That had been the first of his subtle rebellions.
The second character provided complexity to the voice. It was a nasal rasp, adding a layer of condescension to his tone. The voice demanded height. Thus, James stood straight - reliving the time he learnt to balance books on his head for a role. It was a Noble character, distinct in an important way. He did not require the use of magic to employ his prowess.
The Militants held the box formation around James. Sweat glistened on the neck of the mage to James front left. The tension had been subsumed with James’ act of defiance.
“If your superior desires my… Audience, let’s say. Well then, they will have to personally invite me. I do not take kindly to coercion.”
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The sweating mage began to turn to the Militant to James right. However, a sharp gale rebuked him for breaking formation, swatting him back into place. The wind came from behind James, so he couldn’t ascertain which Militant cast it.
“We are here to escort you, Magus. Our Captain has notified us to your irregular status, and so we are here out of respect.” The voice came from behind James.
Respect for power, not a respect for myself.
“Please inform the Captain that I am not inclined to a meeting today. He can feel free to contact me through Officer Feng.” James stated. He turned to leave the box-formation, heading for the exit.
“I cannot attest to the availability of Officer Feng in delivering such a message. The Captain will not be pleased.” James paused only for a moment as he left the formation.
“The ire of your Captain is of little interest to me, so long as it is directed at me. In the event of Officer Feng’s incapacitation, I will hold you four,” James memorised the faces of each Militant, “responsible. And I will reinstate the notion just and civil discourse to your Captain.”
James strode off. The Militants did not follow.
Passing the reception desk, Melisa stared at James. He gave her a curt nod before exiting the Eureka Tower.
She did not return the greeting.
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James dug into his burger, ecstasy visible on his face. Burger juices dribbled down his chin, dripping onto a waiting napkin. Traces of lettuce and tomato were scattered across his plate. Bystanders stared at the suited Magus, who devoured with glee the Auroch-beef burger, revelling in the taste of home.
Eavesdroppers from neighbouring tables to James could hear the faint sound of purring and carnivorous exclamations of contentment from below James’ table. However, there was nothing to see when people looked under the table.There was no food under the table, but the experience of James consuming his own burger was quite intoxicating to the Baku. Cosmo, once again, reaffirmed his love for its master. James accepted the gratitude of his friend, just glad that he’d escaped the Tower unscathed.
“You should slow down. You’ll end up with a sore stomach, and I still remember how much you complain.” Yilin sat opposite James. He’d arrived shortly after James had received his burger. There was more confidence in his old friend. James hoped he could install some more in him, as he was a talented mage in his own right Frontier or no.
“It’s too good.” James said between bites. Yilin smiled.
“I’ll tell you what though, you really knew how to get the factions riled up. You went from an interesting foreign mage, to an identified possible threat. And now you sit here eating away at a burger, seemingly without care.” Yilin’s smile appeared hollow. He looked like a reservoir during a drought; precarious. He was still uncertain of James’ goals. “What’s the plan?”
James finished his mouthful. The succulent beef dissipating from is taste buds, his stomach choking on butterflies. The hostility of the Eureka Tower was unlike what James expected. Having spent many years outside of Tower affiliations and on active quests, progressing his career, James was wholly inept at Tower politics.
Madam Ouvrier was the main link he had, besides his Mentor, with the London Tower. She had dealt with the fallout of his more provocative performances. She was the one that registered James, and sponsored his Magus examination. His Mentor wasn’t one to be tied down by his ward.
The culmination of ten-years experience James held from the outside world did not possess that of Tower politics. All he knew were the Factions, and his own stance, nothing more.
He drank from a can of ginger-beer and swallowed slowly. Cosmo grew jittery at the sugar rush. He faced his old friend and told him what he had considered for the past thirty odd minutes.
“I need to build a team.”
Yilin gestured for him to elaborate.
“As it stands I’m a known entity, in all but my spell-list. It opens me up to offers of protection, and also hostility if I refuse. The Greys and Militants have made that clear.” James reached into his satchel and began stroking Cosmo.
“The Greys I don’t agree with fully, neither the Militants due to personal experience.” He reflected on the Militant’s reaction to Lucy’s protest, and recalled the last Quest he’d attempted for the Grey Faction. Neither experience provided him with optimism. “Thus, I’m either in the Middle Faction or an impartial. I do not intend to be impartial.”
Yilin nodded. “Just make sure you’re not labelled a Rogue.” He quipped.
James smiled. “That’s plan D. Plan A is after I am re-registered as an Australian Mage, I’ll go back and sign up with Eureka Tower. But I need a team.”
“A team for?” Yilin asked.
“A power-base to work with. I doubt there is a single Magus in that Tower that doesn’t hold allegiance to at least two other Magus’. Those simple connections are what elevates people, Yilin. I need to build some of those connections; all my inter-continental relationships aren’t much help domestically.”
“Well alright. Find you some allies is a good start.”
James looked Yilin in the eye. “That being said, Yilin will you-” Yilin silenced him with a raised hand.
“I’ll do what I can to stall any rumour mills, and keep you informed on the inside. Transferring CCs for new spells, or finding out Quest details; I have you covered there mate. However, I’m not a fighter.” He appeared to diminish in his seat with that proclamation. James sent Cosmo to comfort Yilin. Yilin scratched behind the Baku’s ears with care.
“Thats a great help Yilin. Thank you.” James said.
“Happy to help.”
“Also, I told the Militant’s to contact me through you. Just a heads up.” Yilin laughed but accepted his role as a liaison.
So, Tower liaison secured. All that’s left is; find four competent mages to fill-out a Questing Team, register as a Tower Magus (Doherty may be helpful?), rebuild my relationship with my family, and champion progressive social policies with my fledgling base. Simple.
“So, where are you planning on heading next?” Yilin asked. He borrowed James ginger beer, transmuted it to water and took a sip. James glared at him.
“I don’t know. I’ll go home and try and enjoying being around family tonight. I’m open to any suggestions you have, besides waiting for the Militant’s message to have a meeting.” James snatched back the beer. It was only water. James sighed.
Yilin adjusted his glasses. They were a marvel of Enchantment. James was eager to know the extent of there prowess, but held off asking Yilin. Diagnostic magic was not James’ specialty, but it was Yilin’s passion. James had always preferred learning the means as which to obfuscate his foes, and bewilder his audiences.
“Huh. Why don’t you pay Ye Old Bluestone a visit? If you were going to find some allies, then chasing up Alumni isn’t a bad idea.” Yilin mused.
James chuckled. It was a simple idea but one he’d overlooked. “Sounds good to me, thanks Yilin. I’ll pay you back one day, for all the help.” James raised his beer-now-water to Yilin. The two friends smiled.
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James caught the train home. He picked up a modified Message-Device that worked within Oceania. His personal device from London was too expensive to be used locally, let alone the lag in sending messages was horrible. Yilin could handle any Tower messages for now.
He arrived home to a warm house, a fabulous home cooked meal, and a loving family. If one didn’t could the still brooding sister, it was a loving family.
James enjoyed the evening respite. A plan of action settling in his mind that night. It was time to go to school.