“Okay, let's hear the whole story, from the beginning.” Adam was sitting poised with a notebook and pen in the taproom of the inn where Laurel had taken a room. It was early enough in the day they were alone except for a man slumped over a table in the corner, snoring.
Laurel proceeded to tell her story, starting from why she had been visiting the Tranquil Earth sect in the first place, up through her adventures on the passage from Laskar, and the initial failed petition.
“That’s where your problem is. The palace bureaucrats are notoriously strict for the proper protocols. If you just needed help with a land dispute or construction work they would have pointed you to the right people. A meeting with the king, that would need to be perfect before they’ll even try.”
“Good thing I have you to help me for next time then.” Laurel said. “What forms do we need to fill out to make this happen?”
“It depends.” Adam fiddled with the pen for a moment. “I think first we need to establish the best way to approach. Should we aim to be classified as a new kind of school, or as merchants, or mercenaries?”
“You think?”
“It’s been a while, I’m out of practice. But we definitely need some sort of approach hammered out before anything else.
“None of those options you listed are really what a sect is about.” Laurel was feeling defensive about classifying her sect as anything as common as a merchant company. They strove to transcend limits, to become a paragon of their beliefs to the wider cosmos. Money was a side effect, not the goal.
“Sure, sure, but those are the kinds of licenses we can use to establish legitimacy to operate in the city. Otherwise we’re stuck with the Flats and other people too poor for proper guilds. Do you have anything we can use to organize?”
“Yes, I’ve been trying to do better about writing things down since I’ve been alone,” Laurel announced proudly. She waved her hands and a pile of loose papers appeared scattered on the table between them. Some were covered with carefully written lists, while others had a single line, barely legible, scratched across the middle. At least three languages were represented. “I’m still working on it,” she added after seeing Adam’s unamused expression.
They went through the pile, Adam carefully sorting each page and copying everything down into his own notebook. They debated the merits of the different guilds and associations they could be licensed by and the pros and cons of each.
“I think we need to start as a school.” Adam said after they had debated for hours. “That will be the fastest to get approved, and we can eventually use that as leverage for the other applications.”
The next few rest days were filled with forms and very particular calligraphy that Adam wouldn’t let her touch. Laurel spent the ample free time opening a bank account at Adam’s suggestion and exploring the city. She also found the Royal Mint and got information on officially exchanging bar stock for coins.
******
The next public grievance day was already scorching by the time Laurel arrived at the palace. She remembered what it was like to be sensitive to the changes in weather, and spared a commiserating look to the guardsmen sweating through their full uniforms. Walking confidently, she joined the line of citizens seeking assistance, stretched beneath a line of portraits of proud looking men and women with strong jawlines and bright blue eyes. Adam had been exceedingly helpful in drawing up strategies for the upcoming confrontation and she was confident it would end more favorably. She refused to be so easily caught off guard this time. Laurel would be treating the petition room as the battlefield it was, going in armed with paperwork and ready for anything.
“Next!” She spied the same functionary she had spoken to before and swaggered towards him. Attitude wins battles just as much as skill. He squinted at her in recognition, not cowed in the slightest.
Laurel cut him off before he could do more than draw in a breath. Always control the pace of a fight.
“I would like to submit this request to petition the king for an audience” she declared, simultaneously slamming a form down on the desk with a loud smack.
“Would you now?” The man picked up the form and reviewed it. After several moments he set it back down and slid it slowly back across the solid wooden desk.
“I'm afraid that won’t be possible”. Every muscle in Laurel’s body tensed as she went preternaturally still at the dismissal. This man had no idea what wrath he was inviting.
“And why not? The code of the realm, section 4 of the Marvilon Codex,” (she only stumbled slightly over the ridiculous name) “clearly states anyone may submit a petition to the king for the defense or improvement of the realm.”
“Correct. However, the petition you have brought is in line with Article 2 of the Codex, which is reserved for the nobility, and therefore we cannot accept this. Unless of course, you have a patent of nobility hiding somewhere?”
Laurel glared at him, expression unmoving. He stared back, a placid look on his face like he did this two dozen times a day and could not care less about the outcome. After a full minute of silence she saw the barest twitch of his lips in a held back smile. She took a slow breath. Then another.
“Very well!” she said as she launched out of her chair. “I shall simply return with the appropriate forms next time.” With that she turned and marched away, back stiff and eyes forward. As she reached the door to the public gallery she caught a muttered “good luck”. With all the discipline of a lifetime of training, she just barely resisted turning back or setting the desk on fire and continued out the door and back into the city.
*******
“That bastard! The forms are identical, there’s just an extra field for residence location for the commoners. Of course for a noble, the administrators will go out of their way to figure it out themselves.” Adam muttered angry threats as he furiously filled out another version of the same form. Laurel peered over her shoulder and watched as he added several artistic flourishes then pulled out a small ruler to measure their length.
He took a break when he came to the end of the page and put the pen back into the inkwell. “I’m sorry Laurel. I’m clearly more out of practice than I thought.” A chagrined smile flashed across his face but he avoided eye contact.
The raucous barroom they were still using in absence of an actual office was surprisingly good at allowing for vulnerability without being overheard. Laurel waved away Adam’s apology. “I would need years to learn all the intricacies you’ve already navigated. I tried just barreling in and it didn’t work.” Her mood dropped at the reminder of the disaster that was Pevin, but she wouldn’t erase Borin or her own shortcomings from the sect's history. “Next time we’ll be ready for any of the counter attacks the bureaucrats can come up with.”
Adam went back to his work while Laurel went back to her book. Persaud’s Treatise had been enlightening on the modern economy, if extraordinarily boring. Laurel had more treasures in her storage than most kingdoms, but it would take some delicacy to translate that into ready cash without squandering the legacy of the sect. She would get through one more chapter before switching back to a battered novel she’d picked up from a discount bin in one of the nearby bookstores. (Not Hook’s, as Adam had made it clear in no uncertain terms they would not be giving the man any money).
“Besides,” she tossed out into the silence. “If things start taking too long I’ll just break into the palace and we’ll go for the direct approach.”
Adam paused once more. “Let’s see if we can avoid that.” He went back to work with even more urgency.
********
The next week they met in a park instead of the various taverns dotted through the middle-class districts of Verilia. They chatted over games of byd. Beram’s lessons meant she was now losing respectably, rather than the spectacle of her initial forays into the game.
“You’re telling me that there are other planets out there, and if we can build the City Core enough we’ll be able to hop over for a visit?”
“It's a little more difficult than that, as I understand it. Though I admit, I’ve never left this world, only heard stories. We hadn’t yet established a world capital in my time, which made it even harder. Most of this information comes from those visitors that would stop by or elders that ascended and came back to visit. But even that was rare. Some information gets embedded into the City Cores themselves through the cosmic mana flows, though I don’t know how to access it yet.”
They continued to move pieces for a few minutes, then it was Laurel’s turn to ask a question.
“Was law your specialty at the university?”
“Not really. I knew I wanted a scribe position so I made sure to take the classes, but I specialized in history, myths, and ancient languages.”
“That’s fantastic!” Laurel’s enthusiasm startled the nearby birds begging for crumbs, the small flock relocating farther from the disruptive woman.
“Really? You might be the only person outside of the university who didn’t tell me it was a waste of time.”
“Sure, that’s because everyone else you’ve met isn’t carrying around a library of texts mostly written in Alrasian. If we want anyone to be able to read it today we’ll need to translate. I’m glad I won’t have to do it all myself.”
The game piece Adam was moving clattered onto the board as he dropped it and stood. He paced back and forth as he practically shouted, “You are carrying around an entire library of ancient knowledge? Why haven’t you mentioned that yet! This will be the discovery of the century. Those stuffy old bastards at the university will be salivating when they hear about this.”
Laurel waved him back to the game. “Of course I have a library. What did you think the Eternal Archive referred to? The sect was founded to seek out secret knowledge and preserve it for the future. It evolved into gathering any kind of knowledge. I’ll leave you with some of the history texts I studied as a child.” She moved her own piece and punched the air. “I win. Your turn for a question.” She went to reset the board.
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“What was your specialty then?”
“Oh, large-scale battle magic. Though I’m old enough to have dabbled in everything. I’m a terrible alchemist and a barely passable enchanter if I have a pattern to follow.”
“Of course. Battle magic” Adam repeated in a flat tone. “Your turn then.”
“Where is your family from? Are they here in the city?”
Adam cleared his throat. “Folks passed a few years back when a virus was sweeping through the Flats. Gran is still around, but that’s because she’s too mean to die. My turn again. In the past when you had to see a king how did you go about it?”
Even Laurel could recognize discomfort when it slapped her in the face, and she allowed the subject change. “Well, if they were asking my sect for assistance, they would expect me. Otherwise I would just show up at the gate. There aren’t many guards that would try and keep out a master cultivator. Or there weren’t. And monarchs back then wouldn’t want to make enemies of a powerful sect if they could avoid it. I thought about trying the same thing here but, well, guns are problematic and I’d need to be concentrating hard or have a lot of preparation time to prepare a shield to block bullets. And I thought it might be best to not antagonize the king of the country my sect is in, and the city I want to cultivate.”
“Figures you were a noble. But yeah, probably a good idea not to storm the palace.” Adam said.
“Not a noble, but a cultivator from a strong sect. Now, tell me about all these tea houses.” Their game continued as they quizzed each other on the different paths that had led them to the same park.
********
Adam dropped an armful of heavy books on the table in front of her with a deep thud. The covers were worn from years of use but in otherwise good condition. Nudging the pile apart, Laurel saw with a start that a few of the volumes were in Alrasian. The rest all had ‘History’ somewhere in the title.
“This is ridiculous. We’re figuring it out today.” Adam announced when he returned to the table with a frothing pint.
“Figuring what out?” Laurel asked.
“How old you are! You can’t just casually mention that none of the modern countries you’ve heard of existed when you were born and not follow up.”
“I know it’s a long time. Does it matter beyond that?”
“Yes!” Adam threw his hands into the air. “Imagine the kind of insight you can provide to history if we can nail down the timeline. You might upend the entire paradigm through which we study the ancient world. And it will be helpful for you to know for magic things.” He tacked on the rest when Laurel didn’t react to her academic value.
She waved him on anyway. Now that he mentioned it, knowing how long it had been could be useful. “How are we going to do this then?”
“I thought we would start with major historical events and work our way backwards to see if you’ve heard of them.” Adam said. “I’ve never done this before so we’ll make it up as we go.”
“Okay, first up. The unification of Elgin from the scattered tribes and city states in the Gavroz jungles.”
Laurel responded easily. “Had never heard of Elgin until I bought an atlas back in Laskar.”
“That was a dumb place to start.” Adam berated himself. “Laskar was established before that and you said you’ve never heard of it.” He took a long pull from his beer before continuing. “The Battle of Calignon?”
“Never heard of it.”
“The Eight Days War?”
“Where was it?” Laurel asked.
“Western Pashdore, past where the nomad tribes live now.”
“I don’t think so. At least I can’t think of a war that lasted seven days.”
“Seven days is a slight misnomer,” Adam said. “Tensions were of course high well before then, with maneuvering and posturing for a year at least. But the fighting itself only lasted eight days.”
“Was there any magic in use? That might help narrow it down.” Laurel said. This was actually starting to be somewhat fun.
“Legends vary, but nothing is consistent across the historical record.” Adam answered. The man was in his element and it showed, his eyes were alight and his normal grouchy demeanor was giving way to genuine excitement.
“The eruption of the White Fang?”
“Nope.”
“The fall of Bazelon?”
“Bazelon fell?”
“Getting closer,” Adam said. “I think I’ve got it. The Siege of Farshia.”
“Yes!” Laurel shouted. “With the Council of Citizens refusing to capitulate to the Argan Horde. It happened about fifty years before I was born, the masters used it as an example of how cultivators can integrate into a mostly mortal army.”
“Fascinating. Accounts of the siege aren’t considered credible because they always include magicians flying overhead and lobbing powerful attacks back and forth. But with what we know now, hmmm.”
Seeing her companion lost in thought, Laurel brought them back to the point of this endeavor. “So how long ago was it?”
“Oh, right. Sources vary somewhat but from our best estimate, that was in year 1685. So if it happened, let’s say 50 years before you were born, and it’s 3338 now…how old were you when you went into the cave?”
“I was 96.”
“So that means you were in the cave for,” he paused to do some math but Laurel had already gotten there.
“Just over fifteen hundred years,” she said. Suddenly the game wasn’t quite so fun. Laurel had fully intended to live for that long and much longer, but she had expected to actually live those years. Not spend them in stasis underground.
“We need more beer for this,” Adam muttered.
“Yes,” Laurel agreed, signaling to the waitress to keep the rounds coming.
********
Today was the day. Adam had reviewed every relevant law. Their forms had been proofread more times than Laurel could count. Today, she would taste victory. This time when Laurel approached the palace it was not with optimistic innocence or overconfidence, but the measured tread of a veteran soldier marching to war. She had arrived earlier than the last visits, and a fine mist still hung over the shaded parts of the public gardens.
She presented her papers to the guards as she ran over the day’s strategy in her head. Only a few petitioners were ahead of her in the line, and she could make out her nemesis finishing up with another citizen.
Laurel approached the man slowly, taking full stock of the battlefield. His annoying little mustache twitched when he saw her but otherwise gave nothing away. The list of all the counterarguments she might need looped through her mind. She took a seat in the uncomfortable petitioner's chair and waited for acknowledgement. The clerk looked up expectantly and motioned her to begin with a wave of his hand. Insolent, but he had earned it, to her chagrin.
“I have a petition for royal attention, formatted as pursuant to the Marvilon Codex, Section 4.” She put extra stress on the specification.
“What a surprise” the man deadpanned. “Let's review, shall we?”
An interminable ten minutes later he placed the form back down. “Well, everything seems to be in order”.
Internally Laurel heaved a sigh of relief, but she refused on principle to let it show on her face. “Of course. What steps do we need to take to set up the meeting?”
“We will add this to the list of petitions for royal attention, which is reviewed by the king’s secretary each month. Once they get to yours, they will reach out to the listed contact address to set up a meeting. You can expect to hear back in six months to one year.”
“Six months,” she repeated flatly.
“That’s the current best-case estimate, yes. Of course, if any major national events that require the king’s attention crop up in the meantime, it will be longer.”
“I see. Thank you for your assistance” she choked out. She very deliberately moved the chair back, stood, and slowly walked out of the room. Back through the galleries, past the portraits of past rulers, down the steps, and out into the public gardens. She took a deep breath, leaned her head back, and screamed.
The startled guards started making their way towards her but she waved them off. “Just some frustrating news” she called out, along with a hysterical laugh. “Nothing to worry about.” She quickly made her way off the palace grounds, and to the small office she and Adam had rented to have a permanent address for the stupid fucking forms.
Adam looked up excitedly when Laurel opened the door. “Well? Success?”.
“Of a sort,” she replied. “Our petition was accepted, but it will be at least 6 months before anyone looks at it.”
“You’ve got to love Meristan bureaucracy. What next then? It gives us a long time to plan and push the licenses through, but what should we do in the meantime?”
Laurel looked at him, startled. For a long moment her mouth gaped open while she hunted for the right words. “You’re going to stay with me on this?”
Adam suddenly looked unsure. “I’ve been thinking. Magic! And a window into history that I’ve never imagined before. That has never existed before. I’d like to stay a part of that. And besides, you don’t need permission from the king to start laying the groundwork for your sect. You’ll need someone who knows how to navigate the laws and guild system.”
“Adam…” Laurel didn’t know what to say. Part of her desperately missed being part of a team, something larger than just herself. The rest of her recalled all too clearly that the last person who joined their lot with hers was nothing but ash and memories. Cultivator recall could be a burden. The price Borin had paid for simply being near Laurel would always be fresh when she chose to revisit it. But she needed help if she wanted to do things properly. The moment had snuck up on her but she was at a crossroads. Accept help now or struggle on her own for years. The right decision was obvious, but it still took everything she had to respond.
“Yes I would appreciate that a great deal.”
Adam huffed and avoided eye contact at the emotion in her voice.
“Alright, enough of the heart-to-heart. This project is a whole lot more interesting than working for that uptight old Hook. That is, I’m assuming you’re bringing me on full time, yes? Now, what do we want to do?”
Laurel cleared her throat and did her best to match Adam’s tone. “Right, well, I’m not waiting six months just to be told we have to wait another year to get an appointment, and then however long after that to do anything. I’ll explode. Without starting to build up the mana infrastructure, we’ll see plant and animal deviations within the city relatively soon. In a city of this size, I’d say we have a year, maybe less if we don’t do anything.
“If official channels are going to be too slow we need to do something flashy. Force the people in charge to pay attention.”
“Okay, I see your point.” Adam strung out his words, debating how to approach this entirely new goal. “Did you have any ideas in mind?”
“Well an ideal scenario would be if the city was under attack by some mana-fueled beast that I could fight off in front of everyone.” Laurel’s eyes gleamed, it had been months since she’d had a fight, and centuries since she’d had a good one. The more she thought the better the idea seemed.
“Alright, protecting the masses is a good start but as a resident of the city I would prefer we didn’t try to orchestrate some sort of magic attack where anyone could become collateral damage.”
Laurel nodded to cede the point. “It would be wildly difficult to make that happen on demand anyway”.
“What other options do we have?” Adam decided to ignore that last remark and refocus.
“We have the archives and the legacy stone, we could look up the design for some enchanted object and build that, then put it into use. If we kept it simple at least.” Laurel could feel the lack of enthusiasm in her own voice.
“Good idea, but the army already uses the mana stones to power their planes, so I’m not sure that would be flashy enough. Plus our merchant license and manufacturing license are both still being processed, and those are not guilds we want to mess with. I think we were closer with your first plan. We want something that gets the same amount of attention, but that no one can get angry about. What else can you do that might be useful?”
Laurel tried to cobble together a list. “Fighting was my main magical focus which you’ve already ruled out. I can use mana for more everyday tasks, like moving heavy objects or sending short distance messages, that kind of thing. I could probably do some spirit beast cooking if we found any to harvest. The skills anyone that cultivates learns at some point, basic formations, healing injuries, lighting fires or purifying water. I guess we could loan out some books?”
“Wait, wait. First, we are not letting anyone get their dirty, undeserving hands on those books. Second, did you say healing?”
“For certain things, yes. Broken bones, infections, healing these mostly involves strengthening the body’s natural systems. Maybe a bit more if I pull out some reference materials. Some things are beyond me, however. I couldn’t regrow someone else’s limb on my own.”
“That’s fine.” Adam was almost bouncing up and down at the idea. “Most regular people can only afford basic care when they get injured, and doctors don’t have a good way to treat most sicknesses. We aren’t hurting for money, after turning in that silver bullion. If we make the service free and just ask for donations, they can’t complain about licensing either.”
“Let's do it then!” After months of back and forth trying to work within the existing system, Laurel was pleased to have any sort of path forward.
“We can work out of these rooms,” she announced. “I can source some herbs or other ingredients we might need as catalysts. Can you start spreading the word? We may as well start as soon as possible.”
“I’m on it,” Adam replied. “Even after they kicked me out of the guild, I stayed in contact with a bunch of the scribes. And you won’t find a bigger group of gossips in the city. We’ll have people lining the block”.
*******
They both set off on their missions. On the way to the Raven Quill Tavern, popular with scribes solely for the name, Adam had the idea to talk to some of the kids he passed begging or loitering on street corners. They were likely to know some people desperate enough to take a chance on magic healing, who were afraid to go to the hospitals, or couldn’t afford their treatments. A quick word and a coin each and he got the ball rolling.
******
Laurel went in the other direction to find the petition day market still in full swing. Every cultivator trained by the Citadel knew enough healing to survive by themselves in the wild, and she had little trouble finding a few stalls selling bundles of herbs. Since the mixtures she would be making would mostly be for conducting mana, the specific choices didn’t matter as long as they were fresh. Instead she hunted down the ones with the highest amount of vitality.
“What in the world do you need 4 kilograms of thyme for, girlie?” the crone running the stall asked.
“Oh, some recipes to perfect for the restaurant” Laurel called out as she walked away. On the way back to the shop she found some hazelnuts and honey she would use as well. And maybe also snack on if there was extra.
The shop was empty when she returned. She stored her materials and started meditating on the bed she had set up in one of the small back rooms. The mana levels were becoming more comfortable, and her own cultivation was back to the level she had achieved before her imprisonment. While fantastic for her on a personal level, it was making her more and more anxious to start on the City Core.
Without establishing a mana infrastructure in population centers, things were going to start getting unpredictable. And if whatever organization that had cut off the mana flows the first time was still around, they were getting a head start.