2nd of Season of Fire, 57th year of the 32nd cycle
“Name?” a bored clerk with gray hair and droopy eyes said, not bothering to grace Newt a look. His aura revealed him as a fourth realm cultivator, and considering his appearance, he must have been ancient.
“Newstar Blazing Salamander.”
The man glanced at Newt and nodded without saying a word before entering the details in his ledger. Then he pointed at the crystalline realmer.
“You should know how a realmer works.”
Newt placed his hand on the device and sent a wisp of spiritual energy, and as expected, the device displayed three thick lines and two dots.
The clerk noted the result with languid scribbles. “Special skills?”
“Journeyman spell formation scribe.”
The man looked up again. “Badge?”
Newt showed him his guild membership token, and the clerk eyed it for a long moment before entering the new piece of information.
“Anything else?”
Newt looked at the man, then glanced at his new master.
Why the hell not?
“I can charm snakes,” he said, joking with a straight face.
Newt could sense his master roll her eyes, but the clerk looked at him seriously. Newt tried to keep a serious face, when the man sighed and got up. He zoomed out in a flash of air-aligned spiritual energy.
“Where is he going?” Newt asked.
“He’s an airhead. Probably gone to find a snake for you to charm.” Elder Alabaster was not amused. “Good job making us waste more time than necessary.”
“I thought I would just laugh in his face when he asked, ‘What?’”
“Well, he’s laughing now,” Elder Alabaster grumbled, and they waited ten minutes before the clerk returned with a small green python. He dropped the snake on his desk, then another odd thing happened.
“You eatsss me?” the spooked python hissed.
“Is he a ventriloquist?” Newt asked, but both the clerk and his master gave him blank stares.
“Go ahead, charm it.” The clerk grinned.
“Um, hello little fellow,” Newt said, and the snake stared at him while Elder Alabaster smirked in amusement.
“You ssspeak?” the snake hissed, staring at Newt.
“We won’t eat you, you just have to lift your head up and climb up my arm, and I will put you back wherever he took you from.”
Elder Alabaster’s smirk cracked as Newt stretched out his hand above the python, who straightened and climbed up his hand, coiling around his arm.
“I have to talk some more with these two people, then I will take you back to your home. Sorry about all of this.” Newt did not mention the whole affair was a joke of his that got out of hand.
“Yesss,” the snake hissed, enjoying the warmth and growing drowsy.
“How did you do that?” Elder Alabaster asked.
“Well I told it to climb aboard, and it did. You heard what I said.”
“You hissed at it, the snake went from anxious to calm, then climbed up your arm. Are you a beast tamer as well?”
Newt looked away from his master, towards the clerk, looking for some backup, but the man just nodded.
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“What grade beast tamer are you?”
“I am not. I never did any tests.” Newt stuttered, but the clerk nodded like everything was fine.
“I will write ‘novice’, since that’s just a mere first realm green python, and I’ll add a note stating Elder Woodhopper should test you when she gets the chance.”
The clerk jotted down everything he said before looking back at Newt. “Anything else you’ve mastered in these apparently extremely long seventeen years?”
Newt shook his head, afraid his next joke about mining might also prove true.
The clerk seemed equal parts relieved and disappointed as he produced a yellow-green warrior’s robe, identical to the one his master wore.
“These are temporary. You are awfully skinny, and the regular robes aren’t a match. A servant will come take your measurements around sundown, and a proper set of robes will be ready by the morning.”
Then he handed Newt a stone triangle with rounded edges and a spiral engraved at the center. “This is your inner disciple token; don’t lose it. If you lose it, don’t steal it from your fellow disciples, come here, and we will find it and fine you for losing it.”
“Does it do anything, aside from getting me fined?”
“It allows you access to facilities outer disciples aren’t privy to, such as inner disciple sections of the library, special training grounds, and cultivation rooms.” The clerk shrugged. “You are free not to take it if you’re scared of losing it, but my advice is to keep it where you won’t lose it. Moving on.”
The clerk placed two small wooden cases before Newt. “This is your monthly allowance, two recovery pills and two spirit gems adequate for your realm. And this is the key to your shared housing. Outer disciples sleep in groups of twelve, inner disciples in groups of four, core disciples have their own, separate residences, which they may share with whomever they wish.”
The man placed a brass key on the counter.
“Losing or damaging the key comes with a fine. Any questions?”
“Why the fines? They are obviously a mundane rock and a mundane key?”
“We are the Explorer’s Gate, not the Loser’s Gate. Our job is to explore and find treasures.”
And which treasures are you finding by sitting here? Lost keys?
Newt stopped himself before the words left him and nodded. There was no reason to be mean towards the grumpy old man doing his job by the book.
“If there are no more questions, get acquainted with the rules. The Chamber of Punishment does not take kindly to those disregarding them. In some sects, personal power and connections allow you to disregard the rules, Explorer’s Gate is not one of those organizations.”
Newt felt a chill. “What’s the Chamber of Punishment?”
“A disciplinary division, a suborganization,” Elder Alabaster said. “The founders thought it would sound better than Disciplinary Hall, which is what most sects go with. We also have the Chamber of Commerce, the Chamber of Tomes, the Chamber of Pots, which is the alchemy division, and not the first thing that comes to mind.”
The woman smiled at Newt’s aghast expression.
“The alchemists got the short end of the stick, pardon my play on words, but the rest do sound at least somewhat imposing. Based on your skills you may work closely with the Chamber of Runes, with which I dabble, and the Chamber of Beasts.”
“They joked with the names of the sect institutions?” Newt asked, not quite believing what he was hearing, and hoping his master was pulling his leg. Again.
“The sect started as a loose and informal organization,” Elder Alabaster said. “Then, after five generations, an extraordinary group of disciples rose, three of them reached the seventh realm, and one of them reached the eighth, becoming the new sect master. Their power drew more talented disciples, and over the millennia we got where we are. Explorer’s Gate is relatively small for its level of power and the area we control.”
Elder Alabaster waved at the clerk and left the room, talking all the while. Newt followed her into the hallway, holding the folded robe in his hands, while the token, the keys, and the two boxes were safely tucked away in his pouch.
“We have around ten thousand outer disciples, a thousand inner disciples, and fifty-three core disciples. You come with a recommendation, otherwise you would have started the first six months as an outer disciple, to see whether we are a good fit. Your power, talent, background, and the fact that I am your master mean nothing here. While other sects fight amongst themselves, do the imperial family’s bidding for resources, and engage in crafting and commerce, our organization is built on the foundation of exploring dangerous areas for maximum gain.”
They left the administration building and entered a spacious plaza with a large white fountain at the center. All the buildings were sculpted of earth compressed to the point where its hardness rivaled that of stone. There were no seams, as if each of the structures was made in one go.
Elder Alabaster headed left, towards a path lined with tree ferns over a hundred feet tall.
“What keeps people alive in those conditions is unity, teamwork, and mutual aid. Naturally, if someone is too weak to stay alive, they have no place on the team, but after a certain point we prefer a calm temperament over raw power.”
Why did they accept someone like you, then?
Despite her demure physical appearance, Elder Alabaster emanated the aura of a wild-woman, tough and unyielding. Definitely not what Newt would call a team player.
“Most inner disciples are students of one elder or another, or at least aspiring to become their students. Play nice, befriend your roommates if possible, don’t make enemies of them, they are the likeliest people to go out on missions with, and you will often work together.”
For some reason, Newt recalled Dandelion with all his talk about amicability, but he had more important things to consider than his roommates.
“Excuse me, Master,” Newt started humbly, so as not to give a wrong impression. “How will you teach me? Is there a class? A designated time of day when you will instruct me? What about the spell formation scribe and the beast tamer?”
“Well, it’s like this…”