The following morning they paid a gondolier to take them to Skyborn’s Nexus. It had its own little island, adjacent to the one they had arrived on. Dozens of portals, each resembling twenty foot tall mirrors, were spaced somewhat randomly around the island. Each bore a silver plaque labeling the name of the Spire and the nation it was based in. The Illusion portal was near the center of the island.

Taking a deep breath, Nico crossed the threshold…

…and entered a wintry Nordian settlement deep in the Heartsbane Mountains. The sight of it took Nico’s breath away: a picturesque little city, delightfully festive and jolly like a Kindelmas village. The homes were painted in vibrant blue and orange hues. Their roofs were gowned with snow, and brick chimneys belched black smoke. Beyond the city, a vista of snowcapped mountains loomed in the distance, blanketed with white fir trees.

Wherever they were, it was not Velbruk. There was no attunement spire in sight, and Velbruk was supposed a village; this was a city, albeit a modest one.

They had arrived on the very edge of town, just outside of a tavern named The Lion & The Lamb. Its sign creaked on rusty hinges in the brisk wind. The inn’s proprietor — a gruff man with a bushy brown beard and tiny spectacles — stood near the door, staring down at them in mild bemusement.

“ ‘ello mates,” he said with an Appian accent. “Welcome to Fjordur. Wasn’t expectin’ you lot today. Bit early in the semester for this, ain’t it? Where are yer badges?”

“We’re not students,” Leo said.

“Not students? But yeh came through the Skyborn gate, didn’t yeh?”

“We’re … guests of the University. On a brief but hopefully productive sabbatical. And who are you, exactly?”

“Name’s Z. Like the letter Z. Not Z-E-E, not Z-E-A. Just Z. I guess me mum figured I ain’t winnin’ no spellin’ bees so she simplified matters. I’m the fella that guides yeh to the Spire. I assume that’s why yer here — to get to the Illusion Spire?”

They all nodded in unison.

“Right. Well come on in to me tavern. Bit unorthodox, yeh not bein’ students ‘n all, but I’m sure we can settle a fair price for the journey. And maybe my missus can scrounge up some breakfast for ya. Err — but wait.” He pointed a stubby finger at Gianna. “This ain’t a nursery fellas. No gremlins allowed in me tavern. The missus’ rules.”

“Why?” Leo asked. “Why does it matter?”

“All we have to drink is mead. ‘N a few of our regulars curse like drunken sailors. Cheeky cunts they are. No fit venue for a young lass.”

“But I’ve recently acquired a taste for liquor,” Gianna said. “And I have it on good authority that I am a cheeky cunt myself.”

Z laughed at that. A great bellowing laugh that bubbled up from his rotund belly.

“Well,” he said, “if that’s how it be… come on in.”

The Lion & The Lamb was a cozy inn: warm, large, and inviting. Unlike most pubs and taverns, it was clean and well-scrubbed, not a single speck of dirt or dust in sight. The flags of every nation hung from the rafters (though the Nordian flag was a raised a few inches higher than the rest). There was a broad hearth in the center of the tavern, and enchanted orange crystals on the tables helped conduct its heat evenly throughout the room. At the present there were only a handful of customers in the dining area.

A handsome middle-aged woman was at the bar’s counter, wiping glasses that already looked to be perfectly clean. She had lush chestnut curls that cascaded down her shoulders, and she was about half Z’s height and half his weight.

“This ‘ere is me missus.” Bending down, he whispered to Gianna, “She’s the lion, ‘n I’m the lamb.”

Leo took a look around, admiring the place. “Pretty nice tavern you’ve got here.”

“An inn, not a tavern,” Z said. “We do lodging as well. Wool blankets and feathered pillows ‘n all, small luxuries.”

Leo was meandering about the place, tracking snow onto the otherwise spotless floors. Upon seeing this, Z’s wife nearly dropped the glass she’d been wiping. She looked horror-struck.

“Shoes!” she shrieked. “No shoes, or out with you!”

“Oh, righ’,” Z said. “Leave yer shoes at the door. Missus’ rules. Don’ worry, the floorboards won’t give yeh splinters.”

They unlaced their boots and put them in a pile near the door. They were each wearing thick socks, so the wooden floor didn’t feel cold or uncomfortable beneath their feet. On the contrary it actually felt quite pleasant.

Z shepherded them over to the counter and they took seats across Z’s wife. Everything, Leo marveled, in this tavern is expertly crafted. Even the chairs were carved with a shallow depression to perfectly cradle his bum. Leo sat directly next to one of the heat-conducting orange crystals, but he felt neither heat nor cold, just a pleasant warmth. He shrugged out of his fur coat.

“Breakfast’s included in yer fare,” Z said. Up close, with his tiny spectacles he had the mien of an academy professor, but he certainly didn’t talk or act like one. Leo wouldn’t have been surprised to see a man like Z out in the mountains felling trees and splitting lumber. He certainly had the muscle for it.

“We haven’t yet discussed a price,” Nico said.

“Ah, true. Skyborn pays me to guide the students. Ehh, what’s a fair price? How about a silver coin for the lot o’ ya.”

Leo shrugged and pulled out a coin, handing it to Z. They were presently so flush with cash it seemed a small price to pay. But as he passed the coin over to Z, he felt a surge of guilt, recalling the guild’s outstanding debt. They would have to start being less careless about money. Every last copper shim counted.

“Righ’,” Z said. “Breakfast. Miriam, dear — what do we have on offer today?”

“Scrambled eggs, toast, chocolate muffins, and raspberry crepes.”

“Ooh, crepes, please!” Gianna said.

“It’s not either/or — you get it all. And don’t be wasting anything. I’d best not see a single crumb left on your plates. You’ll need energy for the road ahead.”

“Ooh, even better! Leave an extra serving of crepes for Leo and me, if you don’t mind.”

“Leo and I, you mean,” Z said, wagging his finger. “Fellas, if there’s one thing I cannot abide, it’s shite grammar.”

Leo and Gianna exchanged amused looks. Gianna was trying to hold in her laughter. It looked like her cheeks might explode.

“Right,” Leo said, hiding a smirk. “I’ve been telling her for years — it’s always Leo and I, never Leo and me, even when it’s the object of the sentence.”

Z winked at Leo. “There yeh have it. See, most don’t know that.”

Miriam served the toast and eggs first, and they greedily lapped it up. The muffins she served later were a bit too sweet for Nico’s palate but the raspberry crepes were just as delicious as he expected them to be. While eating they discussed recent events across the Discovered Realm. The Vedic Queen had been deposed and guillotined by the plebeians. Empress Isabella, who ruled over Verona and the other Myriad Isles, was rumored to have poisoned her whoremongering son. In tropical Parthia, seafaring cannibals had breached the capital’s sea walls.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

Eventually talk turned to the journey which lay before them.

“So are all three o’ yeh making a go of the attunement?”

“Just me,” Nico said.

“Yeh know it’s dangerous work, right? An attunement ain’t no picnic. It can be deadly.”

“I’ve faced worse odds and lived to tell the tale.”

Z laughed, running a hand over his balding head. It was remarkable how men like Z could have such hairy beards yet still be bald as an egg.

“Well yeh don’t lack for confidence. I don’ know why I thought you lot were students. Yeh got a rough and tumble look written all over yeh. Skyborn students all have that prissy, highborn look to ‘em. Like they’d never deign to wipe their own arse. Never much cared for the place, after I first got admitted and the sheen of it wore off.”

“Wait…” Gianna said. “You were a student at Skyborn?”

“A proud alum.” He smiled, revealing a few missing and chipped teeth.

“What was your attunement?”

“Take a wild guess lass.”

“Illusion? But then why aren't you… Err, why do you run a pub?”

“An inn. If there’s one thing I can’t abide, it’s folks callin’ me inn a tavern or a pub. 'N I do it ‘cuz I like it. It’s simple but honest work. And there’s not much simple but honest work out there for Illusionists. If yeh got no scruples yeh could always find work in a thieves guild, with an Illusion attunement. I don’t reckon you lot are aspiring thieves are ya?”

“Worse. Adventurers.”

Z laughed. “Adventuring is sorta kinda sometimes just thievin’ by another name. But anyhoo, we’d best be off. Got a lot of ground to cover. A whole day’s trek.”

“A whole day?” Leo said. “Why did they place the gate so far from the Spire? I don’t know. Just seems a bit inconvenient.”

“A portal gate requires a bit of maintenance and upkeep. Requires a mage. There are no mages in Velbruk, the closest village to the Spire. So the task fell to me. The University pays me a little stipend for my troubles, nice little passive income. Are y’all ready to go?”

“S’pose so,” Leo said. “We’ll just need waterskins and some grub.”

“I got both. Grub’s included in yer fare. Roasted goat. Don’t like goat? Yer welcome to pack a pail.”

“Roasted goat is perfectly fine,” Nico said.

“Righ’. Well, let me just get some things ‘n we’ll be off.”

Z went to a back room and five minutes later came back with large waterskins (which he passed out to each of them) and an enormous backpack (which he slung around his massive shoulders).

“Won’t need bedrolls,” he said. “There’s a half-decent inn in Velbruk. Straw mattresses. Not too many bugs. Yeh’ll want these though.”

He crossed to the corner of the room, where walking sticks were penned up in a loop. He selected three and passed them out. Each was fashioned to resemble a wizard staff, with decorative scrollwork along the shafts depicting mythical creatures like dragons and manticores.

With that complete, the adventurers departed The Lion & The Lamb and embarked on their journey. Z waved at friends and neighbors as they progressed down a sinuous road through Fjordur. Soon they put the town behind them, and they were marching through Cushing’s Pass, which was so narrow and rustic it could hardly be called a road at all. It narrowed to a point where only three men could walk abreast, shoulder to shoulder, but no more, and to each side rose massive pines that towered hundreds of feet in the air. At times they were stomping through hard packed ice and over uneven boulders. A light snow flurry kicked up, further complicating their trek. The walking sticks turned out to be not merely ornamental, but entirely necessary. A few hours into the hike, they came to a crest which offered a commanding view of what lay ahead. It was one of the most beautiful sights Leo had ever seen: a rolling snowy terrain, one side dominated by a massive frozen lake. And at the far horizon was —

“The Spire,” Z said. “’N you can’t see it, but Velbruk is right next to it. We should be there by nightfall.”

Even from a distance the Illusion attunement spire was massive and imposing, a otherworldly monolith of stone which pierced the clouds above. Leo could only imagine how it looked up close.

***

The outpost — the halfway point — was really just an awning and a picnic table. As the adventurers munched on their roasted goat they discussed Citadel strategy and the salubrious benefits of frigid climates. Z showed them how to blow smoke rings with his Edmiri pipe. Then Z got to talking about his gripes with Skyborn students.

“Every year some block-head miscreant gets his Illusion attunement ‘n then tries to use his newfoun’ abilities to pay me with counterfeit coin.”

“What do you do to them?” Nico asked.

“Oh, I don’t do a thing. I don’t lay a finger on ‘em. But me missus gives ‘em a royal thumping, yeh see. Has ‘em unlace their britches right there in the common room and makes their arse red as a ripe cherry. They accept their punishment meekly, ‘cause they count ‘emselves lucky we don’t tell Skyborn. If Skyborn caught a whiff o’ their deceit they’d drop kick their skinny arses off that floatin’ island and into the Cerulean Sea. That’s the thing about Skyborn: the Archmages who run the Uni are straitlaced tight-assed sons o’ whores. Put one toe outta line and you’ll be right back in Veda ridin’ the turnip truck.”

“Well,” Gianna said slowly, “that is somewhat disconcerting… as a girl with future aspirations of enrollment at Skyborn… and who has a history of ignominious felonies.”

“Ignominious…? First off, it’s whom. Whom has a history. Second, what crimes?”

“Oh, nothing too heinous. Let’s see… petty larceny, grand larceny (really the whole gamut of larceny) … hmm … manslaughter, murder, embezzlement, treason—”

“Yer yankin’ my chain, lass!”

“Am not!” she said, smirking. “But let it be said I never killed a man who didn’t need killin’.”

“We saw her execution!” Leo said. “Well, her planned execution, anyway. You should have seen the pomp and ceremony when they trotted her out to the gibbets. The whole city turned out for it, even the Duke’s nephew was there. The one that’s missing now, what’s his face—”

“Marquise Phillipe,” Nico said.

“Right, yeah Phillipe. We watched the executioner walk her up the gallows and put the noose around her neck.”

Z spread his hands out. “So what happened next?”

“I don’t fucking know. She just… vanished. Right before the eyes of a thousand onlookers.”

“I’m very slippery,” Gianna said.

“I saw her do that,” Leo said, continuing the tale, “and that’s when I knew I needed her in our guild. Took me forever and a day to track her down there. We’re with the Pathfinders, an adventurer’s guild based in Verona.”

“The Pathfinders, yes…” Z stroked his beard thoughtfully. “I’ve heard of ‘em. They’re quite renowned.” He turned to Gianna, shaking his head. “But lass, I reckon yeh leave that shite off the CV. ‘N don’t think about getting frisky with me ‘n plyin’ your trade. I may look an easy target but remember lass I am an attuned mage of Skyborn.”

“Duly noted,” Gianna said, holding her hands up innocently. “Anyway, I set my thieving ways aside after joining the Pathfinders guild. Leo beat it out of me.”

“What!?” Leo practically recoiled at the accusation.

“Yeah,” Gianna continued, pretending to dab tears in her eyes, “it’s pretty sad, actually. When I joined the guild Leo was my designated mentor. Anytime I made a mistake he would beat me with a rolling pin.”

“You filthy liar.” Leo shook his head, pleading his case to Z. “She’s a dirty little liar.”

Gianna smiled brightly. “But despite all the terror and anguish I face under Leo’s tyrannical regime, I am grateful to him and the guild. After all, if Pathfinders hadn’t taken me in, the Black Cabal or the Whitecloaks would’ve nabbed me again. Eventually I wouldn’t get away. I’d be hanged.”

“Hung. Hanged is past perfect tense. Dear lass, your grammar is absolute horse shite. Yeh need to start readin’ more. Knowledge is power.” He tapped the temple of his head.

“Nytios said that!” Gianna said, impressed by the reference.

“Wise man, Nytios, very wise. He could use a lesson on grammar though…”

***

As Z anticipated, they arrived in Velbruk around nightfall. No guards manned the gate, which was wide open. They were only a few rutted roads intersecting each other, lit by sputtering wrought iron street lamps. The only sound was that of snow crunching under their feet as they advanced into the village.

“Well lads,” Z said. “ ‘ere we are. Velbruk.”

“Not quite a one horse village,” Leo said. “But it doesn’t merit more than a single stable.”

“No. Go much further north and you’ll be findin’ the Wastes of the Cataclysm, assumin’ your toes don’t freeze ‘n snap off first.”

Now there’s an interesting idea, Leo thought. The Cataclysm was the apocalyptic event that befell the Discovered World long ago when Azrael, the god of gods, asserted dominion over the world. There were still parts of the Discovered World, known as the Wastes, that were still uninhabitable, shrouded in mystery but allegedly brimming with occult magic.

They went deeper into the village, not finding a single other living soul. If Leo didn’t know better, he would have thought Velbruk was a ghost town. When they entered an inn called the Galloping Mare, there found only two people: A one-eyed innkeep and a patron wearing a large cowl that cloaked his face in shadows. They gave them hard looks.

“ ‘Ello Erik,” Z said, his exuberance undiminished by the chilly reception. “I’ll be needing rooms. Got a boy who wants to make a go o’ the attunement.”