Oliver appreciated the guild's offer of a bed and a daily hot meal. Though there was no plumbing, the accommodations were better than his old apartment, if a bit crowded. The guildhall used to be an inn in a thriving part of the city. Now, Lord Heron ran it in a seedy part of Credola.
The door flew open, startling everyone in the room. Two roommates groaned and rolled in their blankets, and Robert sat up.
“You,” Cosima said, pointing at Robert. “And you.”
Oliver had been up for an hour. He rolled out of his cot. “Yes.”
“You’re with me today. Seems the big man sees something in you two.” She had her hair back behind her ears, which were pointed.
Oliver stretched. “Are you part elf?”
Cosima shot forward and tackled him. He realized she was trying to murder him. For a moment, he thought he could turn away each of her punches, but then one and another slammed into his ribs. She got off him as if nothing had happened and waved them to follow.
Roberts leaned close to Oliver. “She has orc in her.”
She led them to a stable behind the guildhall. She spoke with the stable master, who led three horses to her. “Let’s get going.”
A wave of apprehension hit Oliver, but he pushed it away. He was starting to settle into this world too much, and his old self crept back in. He had free will. He needed to grow a pair and get on the horse.
She guided them north of Credola and explained that they were to serve as redundant bodyguards for elves in a meeting with goblins. She rode up a steep trail that led away from the highway. First, an austere stone tower appeared, and over a rise, a sea of tents surrounded it. “Lord Emrich has gathered an army. He prepares to march to Halshan Castle and close the pass. It’s a dumb idea.”
The canvas of a pavilion billowed in the breeze, and an elf greeted them. “We meet again Cosima.”
“Balven of Sansi. It’s been a while. How’s the arm.”
“Luckily, we have the best healers. Is this the best Heron could do.” He looked Oliver and Robert up and down.
Over the next hour, Oliver baked alongside Robert outside the tent. Cosima asked a few times if they’d seen anything suspicious.
Elven delegates arrived first. They walked so smoothly in long robes that they seemed to float. Among them, Oliver noticed an elf girl and consciously closed his mouth. A waterfall of red hair cascaded over her shoulders. Two large eyes in an oval face reminded him of Zaisy, but this girl was far too beautiful. She didn’t notice him at all.
From the opposite direction, the goblin contingent approached. Short and stout, with earthy skin tones and sharp features. They wore jewelry as if they didn’t know how to use it. A large goblin whore a silver necklace with gold rings on it.
The two races faced each other across a table with documents and maps.
Oliver positioned himself behind the elf girl, a silent sentinel. Robert was at the opposite end, his hand resting casually on the hilt of his sword.
The set of Cosima’s face said she dared anyone to try something.
The three Crimson Pike members looked awesome. Balven could fuck himself.
An elven elder began the proceedings, his voice emotionless as if he didn’t care about the whole affair. "We have come to address the troubling disappearances of our citizens. Our sources indicate that goblins have been taking them to the mines."
A murmur rippled through the goblin ranks. The bejeweled goblin responded with a pounding first on the polished hardwood. "These are baseless accusations. Let me remind you that the dwarves receive preferential treatment from you and the Valemen, cornering the mining trade and leaving us to scavenge what's left."
Oliver listened to the back and forth and tried to remain alert, yet he couldn't help but steal long glances at the elf girl.
Suddenly, a chill swept through the air. The sound of conversation faded away. A servant entered the tent with a tray of drinks.
What’s happening? Oliver tightened his grip on the swordstaff. The feeling intensified, and he opened the screen to see if anything had changed. An error scrolled by and returned him to his class page.
He’d half expected a notification, another survival, but nothing.
No one else seemed to notice. Robert and Cosima stood as bored as ever.
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The servant stepped forward, and liquid splashed onto the tray as if he weren’t used to carrying one. Dark circles surrounded his eyes and his mouth bared teeth.
Cosima didn’t budge a muscle. She should be telling him to do something. She should be yelling out.
The servant dropped the tray and opened his arms. A cube of crackling energy rotated and expanded.
"Assassin!" Cosima shouted, with only enough time to tilt her spear a few degrees.
Instinct took over. Oliver moved his hands in a pattern he didn’t control. "Astral Shield!" he said. A shimmering light barrier materialized around the group and expanded into a dome.
The assassin's attack collided with the shield and sparks showered. The force of the assault reverberated through the barrier, and Oliver gritted his teeth, channeling all his focus into maintaining it.
The delegates swung their heads, eyes wide with shock and fear.
But the strain was immense, like holding up a building. The ground beneath them trembled as the energy from the attacks built up within the confined space. The pavilion shredded and disintegrated in flame.
It’s not like holding up a building. It’s like knocking one down. The tower cracked and fell, smashing down a handful of tents.
"Oliver, is that you?" Cosima asked.
“Yeah.” Just as he was going to tell her he couldn’t hold it much longer, a flash blinded him and knocked him down, dissolving the shield. Coughing, Oliver pushed himself up from the ground. His ears rang, and his muscles ached from the exertion. Around him, the delegates scrawled, some streaked with blood.
The assassin rose again and pointed at Oliver, but Cosima’s spear jammed into his neck, fountaining blood. A twist and the man fell dead.
Robert approached, helping Oliver steady himself. "That was amazing," he said.
Oliver shook his head, now clearly hearing the cries of those trapped under the tower's stones. "I’m just destructive?" How many people had been in the tents under the collapsed tower? He needed to go help dig them out, though he felt exhausted and staggered a few feet.
Cosima stopped him. "Impressive, but I need to know the abilities of those under my command."
He looked past her at the wreckage. Under the rubble lay canvas and splintered wood. The frightened faces of soldiers picked up stones and chucked them one by one.
The elf girl approached. Up close, her presence was even more striking. "I want to talk to you. Come to me in Credola," she said, spinning on her heel.
Oliver gazed after her, the turmoil within him momentarily quieted.
An elf with silver hair commanded the goblins to leave while he’d let them. He turned to Cosima. “Give Lord Haron my gratitude. It shall not be that we’ll have our long lives cut short by barbarism.”
Returning to Credola, they formed a column of soldiers, delegates, and the three Crimson Pike members. The elves rode in litters surrounded by calverly, and Oliver, Robert, and Cosima took the lead. Their shadows grew long ahead of them over the rugged terrain.
Back at the guildhall, the atmosphere was tense. Some officials declared war on the guild, which meant their end if it went poorly over the next few weeks. Oliver had just gotten the job. Of course, it would all come crashing down.
"Cosima, report," Lord Heron said, and she gave a concise account of the events, not shying away from Oliver’s contribution. Lord Heron's eyes flicked to Oliver. "So, you possess arcane abilities. And you didn’t tell anyone?"
"I don’t use it," Oliver confirmed, feeling the weight of the man's scrutiny.
“What do you mean?”
“A lot of people got hurt. I didn’t ask for it, and I don’t use it.”
"From Cosima’s description, this was no wild spark. You’ve trained your whole short life if I know my stuff."
Oliver bristled. The man had called him a liar.
“Don’t respond,” Lord Heron said. “I see a spark of defiance in you. I know a man who can assess your capabilities and determine your new place in the guild—if there's still such a thing upon your return."
Cosima stepped forward. "With respect, Lord Heron, Oliver's actions saved lives today. Shouldn’t he get a rank? He’s no trainee."
"Indeed," he acknowledged. "All the more reason to send him to the wizard."
Oliver met Lord Heron's gaze. "When would I go?"
"Immediately," Lord Heron replied. "A wagon is prepared to take you to the wizard's abode. He resides in the mountains, where he can work without distractions."
Robert clapped Oliver on the back. "Good luck. We'll be here when you return. Ain’t no one shutting down the Crimson Pike Guild."
Oliver climbed into the wagon that pulled around from the back. He had meant to buy that meal for the man in the alley, but that would have to wait.
The driver urged the horses forward. The city streets gave way to winding mountain roads. The journey was treacherous, the wagon wheels creaking with each turn, and the night descended. More than one time, the driver threw rocks from the road so they could continue.
Oliver spent hours looking over the edge at the city below.
Perched atop a rocky outcrop stood a tower that seemed to defy the laws of physics. Its spires twisted, and the stones formed as if frozen from liquid. Flickering light glowed in each window.
The driver halted at the base of a staircase carved into the rock. "This is as far as I go," he announced. The stairway led to the first floor of the tower.
“Thanks for the ride," Oliver said, but the driver was already turning the wagon around.
With a deep breath, Oliver began the ascent. The steps were worn smooth with age, and the wind whistled through the crevices in the rock. As he climbed, he couldn't shake the feeling of being watched by two animal statues by the door.
Reaching the tower's entrance, a heavy wooden door adorned with arcane symbols, he hesitated briefly before knocking. The sound echoed within. How long of a hike was it back down the mountain?
The door creaked open of its own accord, revealing a dimly lit chamber filled with shelves upon shelves of books. Near the door sat bronze orbs in loops like a solar system. The scent of incense hung in the air.
"Who are you?”
Lord Heron gave him no message or anything.