The sun was high and bright as Martin wandered the fields on the early spring day, a long coat his only concession to the bitter cold. He had acquiesced to Annette’s scheduling prowess, and started getting his assignments done early each week so he could do what he wanted most of the time. Truly that woman was a born Quartermaster. There was no road cutting across the fields, parallel to the edge of the city, so Martin pushed through snowdrifts and small hills, sinking his awareness deep into the earth. Most of this could be done through interfacing with the City Core, but he liked getting a true understanding of the land that came with seeing it, smelling it, experiencing it all himself.
The land was stubborn. The wild nature of the local mana flows, only leashed by the City Core, meant he would need to pour more willpower into manipulating any of the soil or rock below. That would work in their favor eventually. Laurel was clever enough to bring back some earth attuned treasures for the city, and they would be safe from anyone tunneling in, and more able to manipulate things themselves. They would need to be. He wasn’t sure what madness led to this city being constructed without a wall, but it would be a problem. Such a large population meant regular beast waves were inevitable. Without better fortifications a few spirit beasts would tear through the slums and up into the higher districts. A fort was a good defense when your enemy was a human army, lining up to fight at an agreed upon time. Not so much a ravening horde of monsters coming to feast on the Core.
He kept walking. The idea of a barrier was seeded into the earth with each step. The others had never really understood this part of his cultivation. Laurel’s elements were all about speed. She could make the air bend to her will at the drop of a hat. Earth was more of a conversation. Especially earth that was soaked in this much ambient mana. Sure, he could pull some of it up if he needed to fight. Fling it around as shields or shoot it towards an enemy. But the larger scale workings he was planning took months or years of preparation.
********
“We’re going out for dinner.” Martin did his best to keep his laugh on the inside as Adam jolted at the sound of his voice.
“I’m busy.” Adam gestured around to the sea of paper on his desk. “We can go out next week but I need to finish this translation. Then I have some more in depth catalog cross-referencing I’ve been putting off.”
Martin eased forward, put one of the stray ribbons in the book Adam was hunched over, and gently closed the cover. “You haven’t left the library in two days. Annette sent me to rescue you.”
“These projects are important…” The protestations continued as Martin herded him out and sent a mental command to the library to shut down for the evening. The doors sealed shut behind them and they were in a cab to a nice, newly developed city district before Adam could muster up too much resistance. Martin smiled, curmudgeonly scholar was an archetype that transcended centuries.
******
They were seated by a chipper teenager talking so quickly Martin was a bit afraid she wasn’t breathing. “We just got our official acceptance to the Kitchen so there’s a new menu tonight. We have slow roasted goat with a pomegranate mint sauce or guinea fowl stuffed with rice studded with raisins and pine nuts.”
After ordering one of each and a bottle of wine, the girl went off and they were able to get a word in edgewise.
“Tell me,” Martin said, “why would a place like this go through all the hassle to join a guild of restaurants. All that time and effort, is it just for the prestige?” He took a sip of the fruity red wine they had ordered, letting the tannins roll across his palate like velvet. “For that matter, why did we bother with all of them? I saw the list, it seems excessive, and that pearl Laurel handed out was fucking expensive.”
“Lots of reasons. You’re right about the prestige. A place like this is good, but restaurants are so hard to keep afloat. Guild backing means people will go out of their way to eat here. It becomes a destination for people from the lower districts and a necessity to compete with anything further up the hill. Access to higher quality staff, more premium ingredients. It means the guild might offer a loan during hard times.”
The server came back with their meals and they both tucked in. The goat melted on Martin’s tongue, the sweet tang from the pomegranate, the spice in the marinade, and the cooling yogurt created a symphony of flavor. Impressive. More so for mortals.
“At least they’re putting all that to good use, this is divine.”
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Adam mumbled his agreement and they both set to enjoying the food without interruption. He stole a bite from Adam’s fowl and realized this place was something special. Esther was an excellent cook, but this was above and beyond anything he had tasted in years. After the initial few bites, they slowed down enough to resume the conversation.
“The sect joined all those guilds for different reasons. Guilds are so ingrained in the Meristan culture and economy that there are laws involved. It would be illegal for us to hunt spirit beasts or harvest certain plants without some of our memberships. Others aren’t legally required, but it's much easier to sell or trade if you have the support of the merchant’s guild.
“It’s also, historically, a way for commoners to gain power. With an influential enough guild, acting in unison, enough pressure can be put on nobles or even the king, to change policy.”
Martin had been nodding along. “By that logic, should we be starting a guild for cultivation? You said there are other magic users in the country. Maybe if we had our own guild I wouldn’t be reinforcing buildings for nobles in my free time.”
“There’s something to what you say. I know the trial worked out for us, but the nobles swindling us out of fancy magic buildings is absolute horseshit,” Adam said.
The rest of the dinner passed with lighter topics of conversation. Mostly about the differences growing up in a sect versus growing up in the slums. They stayed late at the restaurant, finishing off another bottle of wine and an absolutely scrumptious chocolate confection. Returning to the sect, Adam on the warm and fuzzy side of tipsy, Martin sober but having a great time, they found Annette still awake in her office.
“Taking advantage of needing less sleep already?” Martin joked with Annette as he helped a swaying Adam onto the window seat, before relaxing on the chaise near the fireplace. In response she leaned back and smiled at the two of them.
“It looks like you two had a very nice night,” she said leadingly.
“We did, in fact —” Martin didn’t get a chance to finish before Adam cut him off.
“A Magic Guild. We need to start a magic guild so the bastard nobles and the merchants can’t push us around anymore.” The declaration was followed by slumping back against the window and closing his eyes. There was a slight chance he’d had a bit too much of the wine at dinner.
“Ignoring the slurring, I actually agree. The collaboration with the merchant guild will work out for us, but it definitely favors them. Grimley will be an ally, I think. But I don’t like that now we’re doing things for the council for free.” She reached for a fresh notebook from the drawer she kept stocked in her desk. “Let’s make some preliminary lists on what we would need.”
Adam interrupted with an impressive snore. Martin snorted, and before he could stop himself he was letting out a full belly laugh. Annette looked surprised but she gave in to the humor as well.
“Tomorrow. We’ll make a list tomorrow,” she said.
Martin nudged Adam awake and helped him to his bed before retiring to the rotunda to work on his own cultivation and the City Core for the rest of the night.
The sect officers reconvened bright and early the next morning. Martin was scheduled to teach basic cultivation for the newest recruits and soldiers, then more advanced topics for the established sect members. Laurel’s original students were ready to burn their meridians and he was preparing them for that process. So it was in the predawn light that they met, this time in his own office.
The room was still bare for his tastes. Mostly empty stone with some useful amenities sprinkled in. The furniture was comfortable and sturdy, having been part of the bulk orders Annette had made for the initial furnishing of the sect house. But nothing grand or unique or matching his taste at all. His chambers in the original citadel had been decked out with beautiful tapestries and artwork he found inspiring. Unfortunately, he hadn’t been carrying anything in his spatial tattoo when the cultivators in the small Town of Rishata had trapped him with news of a fake sinkhole. Going out to local galleries to hunt for some hidden gems was something he was looking forward to. He’d held off up til now mostly due to funding. Quality was expensive, and while the sect had plenty, he felt uncomfortable asking to appropriate that much for his own hobby. When more money was coming in, he’d look further. Or sell some of his own talents if things got desperate.
“Now that we’re all in our right minds,” Annette said this with an eyebrow raised at Adam, “we can talk seriously about forming a guild. Adam, what is the actual bare minimum we would need for official recognition.”
Feeling the effects of the previous evening, Adam was moving more gingerly than usual. He eventually got the answer out. “Charter document, that’s easy, just needs some rules and benefits laid out. Has to be materially better for members or we get shut down. Enough membership to account for a ‘significant portion of a trade or industry’. That bit is more up to interpretation but with the sect as a member, along with a few more, we should be set. Then it’s a process for application that a member of the target group could be reasonably expected to fulfill. That last part is one of the reasons some applications are so strict. It keeps the guild from being overwhelmed by new applicants, but leaves the door open for anyone with enough time to send something in. The only caveat is that it has to be achievable without an ‘undue burden’. We were talking about the Kitchen last night. Any new member has to win one of their sponsored cooking contests before they’ll even consider granting entry. It means new members have to be dedicated, usually making the attempt more than once before succeeding. The contests aren’t closed either. Regular members are routinely made to compete as well, to make sure standards don’t slip.”
Annette had been furiously taking notes during this explanation. Martin watched in horror and fascination as his to-do list was forming right before his eyes. “Okay. A charter I’m assuming you could handle.” Adam nodded and then cringed as he regretted the motion. “A process to join shouldn’t be hard. Martin, you and I could come up with a reasonable test for active cultivation prowess. Members would be tricky though. There’s not much point in a guild that’s just the sect.”
Martin had a solution for that. “You said there are a few groups that openly practice magic, right? We have a sect full of novices, several of whom are going to be opening their meridians and becoming initiates in the next month or so. It’s a perfect first mission to send them on. Not too much danger but it will actually be useful to the sect, not some contrived fetch quest.”
The quill in Annette’s hand actually paused for a few heartbeats while she processed that. “You think they’re ready?”
“No.” He pressed on before he could be interrupted. “No one is ever ready the first time they go out in the world. That’s the real purpose behind a sect. When they mess up, or don’t know what to do, they can come back home and we’ll help them.”