“It’s disappointing that you won’t be able to return more frequently. I think that’s the most excitement I've had in ages.”
“That may be so, but I doubt either of us could sustain that pace for long. You'll cause yourself harm if you act like that too often.”
“You know where to find the Morris Guild correct? Along the eastern wall? It would probably be better to travel along the wall as well. The Doreth, Radier, and Kereth guilds are more hostile to mages than most.”
“I'll keep it in mind and tread cautiously.” Dawn was about to break, and once again Theodore reiterated his warnings. Earlier in the day, or rather yesterday, Klutz had returned from delivering the letter to Castor, and brought back a message from him saying to meet with him around dawn. Though Castor wasn't officially part of the Morris Guild, they accepted him in their territory due to various favors he’d done for them. If I mentioned his name, I'd be able to find him quickly, even if I didn't know the area.
“Be sure to find time to come back. You're far more promising than I could have hoped. As your duty as my successor, don't go dying!” The scene wasn't one where we were tearing up, but there sentiment of well wishing was strong. A mentor like this did give a strong desire to stay, but there were still duties to fulfill back in Salt Village.
“Dying isn't on my schedule, don't worry. I'll be putting what you've taught me to good use in the meantime; your work will already be making a name for itself.”
“Bah, in that little place? The only reason it has a name is because of their folly—”
“I'm on my way now. Treat *Kl*—Dom well.” Knowing the old man could chatter on about his opinions of things for ages once he got going, I forced an exit from the store. Alchemist Avenue remained vacant, the sun had not yet risen, and there didn't seem to be any alchemists who had returned from the residential district. Compared to how quickly I was gaining knowledge of brewing, my knowledge on fellow practitioners was surprisingly lacking. All I knew of them were Theodore's complaints of their methods.
Not much to do about it less than an hour before departure.
Heading east after activating
“Hey! You over there, stop! Mage!”
“Err, good morning there.” Starting with an awkward greeting, I presented myself as non-threatening. “You wouldn't happen to be part of the Morris guild, would you?”
“Ah, er, yes, or no. We've been hired to guard the Morris docks in Glaucen.” The guards still looked at me warily, but one was already getting caught up in the mood of an embarrassingly simple mistake. Apparently ‘not seeming like a wizard’ really helped out sometimes.
“Neat, good, uh, do you know where Castor and Ruffles are set up? I'm hitching a ride with them, and they should be leaving soon, so I should be, you know, finding them and stuff.”
“Yeah, they're right around that way, near the Benser’s edge.”
“No, doesn't he usually stop towards the wall?”
Mumbling, the guards as a whole argued among themselves where Castor had parked this time around. They all sounded so unsure of what they said, when just a moment ago they'd been confidently ordering me to halt. I guess as guards they usually didn't have to be anything other than meatheads and musclebrains, but the ease in which I got them muddled up was a bit depressing.
“Er, I mean, if you don't know I might be able to find around where he could be. If it gets too late if I run, I could probably catch up with him on the road after a few hours.”
“Uh, just try over to the left I guess. He sometimes leaves his cart around there.” Embarrassed by holding up someone who was lost, then the four of them failing to give directions, I was sheepishly directed to the left(coming from the south, and the Morris guild’s designated area being along the east wall, this pretty much encompassed everything.)
‘Following’ the directions of those shameful guards, I headed to where Castor was in minutes. Of course I knew beforehand where to go. Castor awaited along with another face I’d not seen in a while.
“Good morning Castor! Good morning Corsair, I trust you've gotten everything that Pan requested without trouble?”
“I don't see why you would care, but yes.”
“Good morning to you as well Alric! No worries at all about your situation, I understand mages aren't too well liked. I had a hunch myself, you aren't like most magicians around these parts, but between you and your friend, something was special about you two.”
“Friend? Oh yeah, Dracule Mihaaa…”Aaah? No way? He was a fan of the oldies? And his manner of dress...don't tell me that a cosplaying otaku was the main character! No wonder I didn't have any easy to solve quests, all the proper narratives must be being hogged up by that guy. “Er, Dracule Michaels. Not that I would know anything about him. Also could you do me a favor and just not mention him? There are some less than optimal circumstances in the world.”
Somehow there was a way to partially salvage the situation, but Castor acted receptive enough to the request. Really, there was no other course of action that guy would take other than the right one. If he stopped being a merchant, I have no doubt he would have out-heroed me.
“Less than optimal circumstances. There sure are, but I doubt what you're thinking of is as bad as it could be.” Oh yes, the weather is lovely. No, I didn't have any troubles during my trip either, thank you for asking. Seriously Corsair? We've hardly said anything to each other, how have I managed to gain your impotent enmity already?
These sorts of thoughts do belie that my nature is not that of a hero. I try my best though, and that's what’s important(at least so I hope).
“Indeed, I could think of much worse circumstances for the both of us, but such is a futile exercise. It would be better to recognize the actual troubles at hand. Speaking of which, shall we depart Castor? I'd feel awful if we were to stay too long and bring I'll fortune on your head.”
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
“Not to worry, the guards for the caravans don't take kindly to intruders in this area. We can start out all the same, there will be plenty of time to talk on the road.”
With that we returned to the road, towards Medean and Salt Village. Corsair kept quiet, except for the occasional venomous quip, and I chatted vigorously with Castor. I told him of some of my adventures and time with Theodore, and even began giving asides to Ruffles myself.
The journey still took eight days, and the merchant had much more to speak of than I. To keep your knowledge at pace with the me of that time, and omit a great deal of droll question and answer sessions, I shall distill the informative content of that journey into several expository blocks.
First, we spent quite a bit of time talking about the Morris guild and guilds in general. This was a subject of my own interest, since heading into Glaucen, the church seemed more and more encompassing. It was a bit difficult to see how guilds were able to turn a profit when the church seemingly controlled all resources at the source.
Turns out that the reason people need not surrender all their belongings is because they have choosey overlords. The Grand Cathedral of Derriad requested at least half of the most skilled individuals from each Chapter, as well as a quota of rare herbs, potions, ores, and imbued weapons. In turn, the capital of each Chapter requested these things from the various districts, and the districts were each set up to focus on producing one or two of these things to send to the Chapter capital. The district we were currently in produced soulsteel(I'll note something here that is a bit lost in translation. There are multiple words for soul in Derrish; each carrying a different sort of ‘flavor’. For example, one of the words for soul reflects fiery-ness, and that’s also the Derrish equivalent of hothead. This particular soul was not the neutral one, but one that implies water, so it may be better to refer to it as aquasteel.)
All this means, that aside from taking the occasional pound of flesh, the church let free trade do its thing. They even greased the wheels of commerce in some cases, like escorting merchant caravans that would eventually result in the aquasteel they needed to produce. Such was the official stance that the church on whole took.
Of course there were still the individual members who took advantage of their status to try and gain a cut. But they couldn't go too far, lest they irk the higher ups by potentially disturb the chain of production.
From the topic of guilds, Castor then switched the discussion to something worrisome, as if I didn't already have enough on my mind. Apparently even though the taxes were seemed high, the rate quoted to me by Dann was only during normal times. Recently, the amount of silver that needed to be handed over had climbed about 1.5 pieces, and the merchant expected it to rise further still. Conscription rates were likewise on the rise, though such a thing probably wouldn't reach a backwater like Salt Village for a while yet. Not paying attention to the idea of a GDP, the church felt it more suitable to conscript wealthier, yet superficial, professions like dyers and artisans before poorer farmers.
They weren't likely to show up in the area situated between two major cities, but in times like these banditry became more prevalent. The way this meshed with the defector’s religion was by describing it as an expression of strength. Castor really was very thoughtful and observant, going so far as to realize that I needed an explanation for this sort of thing. The more rural the area, the less orthodox the population would be. To combat this, the church sent out Disciples and Clerics to travel among the outskirts of the civilized areas and with large caravans. Castor himself showed me a newly formed scab on his arm, only in town every three weeks, he was sure to attend the services.
I spent a bit of time talking to Castor about Tiaism, and his view of it. He seemed to realize that his education in the subject was a bit lacking, and was thus not very confident in his responses. However his own view seemed to lack many of the principles of sacrifice that Lyssa and the architecture around the temple suggested. Castor had a very moderate view of his station in life, higher than many, but far lower than any real amount of power; he didn't feel as if his own strength really met the qualifications to sacrifice more. Giving his blood to the church was just one of those little things he could do, as he himself didn't need to do much in the way of physical activity, and anemia was present in some manner in this world.
One or two days after bringing up his rate of religious attendance, I realized something. Three weeks was the time it took not for his entire route, but to go from Glaucen to Medean. Days were shorter here(about 21 hours) but we still covered at least 20 miles daily. At minimum, that’s 420 miles. Excuse me?
Previously, I had assumed we were living in a large world, but 420 miles still seemed excessive, so I tried getting some clarification. Turns out I was wrong again!
Apparently, to even out these shorter days, weeks were 8 days long, meaning the distance was at least 480 miles. Castor continued upending my perception by pointing out that Glaucen and Medean were actually fairly close together. Turns out when I thought Derriad was a bit bigger than Russia, that estimate only referred to the district we were in. Not even the whole Chapter!
“*Oh little magus, you think this is all there is? I've never seen one who sees the pursuit of truth as his life be so willfully ignorant…*” I vaguely recalled some lines from somewhere. This world was just so large, perhaps the whole country was just a frog in the bottom of the well.
“What was that?”
“Nothing…” I still had many years to explore the rest of the world. Look at the now, don't be dazzled by infinity.
I knew I could reach beyond the seemingly infinite borders of Derriad one day. I just had to put one foot in front of the other, and soon I'd be walking out their door.
A/N:AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!