Relaxing, we stood by the fountain placed at the center of the city’s Main Square, the sprinkling water freshening and cooling the air warmed by the afternoon sun.
“But, before we jump to breaking the rules,” I said, “it’d be probably be better to try for something that doesn’t do that.”
“Hmm, what was that?” Shara said distractedly, with eyes directed to her side. I followed her gaze, my eyes landing on a quaintly-decorated storefront, a narrow building of three stories sandwiched between two such similar buildings. The first floor’s brick facade and open glass windows were complemented with potted flowers.
“Hey, are you listening, Shara?” I said after a few moments, poking at her with a finger.
“Apologies, I was indeed not. Would it be grossly improper for me to say that that heavenly, delicious smell in the air emanating from that direction has all of my attention?” she said, glancing back at me with a sheepish expression.
“I– you–” I started before a few instinctual sniffs caught a whiff of what she was talking about. It was pleasant, multi-fold in textures, or whatever constituted for texture in the sense of smell. A hint of sweetness followed by a rich, subtle savoriness. “Yes, it would be improper, it’s only been six hours since our breakf–” My stomach suddenly betrayed me, letting out a loud growl. “…okay, truthfully told, I have to say it isn’t so grossly improper. I mean, it has been six hours since breakfast.”
The two of us approached the building eagerly. A quick glance at the sign hanging over the open door told us why exactly such hunger-inducing smells came from a pretty, little building. It was a bakery, packed with eager in-going customers and satisfied out-going customers holding warm pastries and breads in their hands.
“Luqa?” Shara quietly asked.
“Yes?”
“Could I… ask for your kindness and urge you to acquire some of these delightful culinary creations?” She looked at me with downcast, intentionally shy eyes, gazing at me momentarily before darting her eyes back to the ground.
“Oh, drop the act.”
“Alright. Then, how about, Luqa, get some of those for us, please!” she exclaimed, arm outward, finger pointing at the bakery.
“Well,” I sighed, “maybe, in another world, where the two of us actually have the money to buy something from such a nice-looking place, the answer would be yes… We still need to figure out how to earn money, you know that, right?”
“I do know and, to rectify this issue, I have a brilliant suggestion. How about we take advantage of the kind hearts you mortals are in possession of and induce sympathy to receive donations?” she said, with a shameless raise of her eyebrows.
“…Are you kidding me? We’re going from thriving in the harsh wastelands to begging like waifs in the crowd-filled streets of a city? Maybe I have too much pride but, I’ll have to say… hell no!” I yelled. “We’ll be fine, we still have meat left here,” I said, patting the pack I carried.
“Luqa. I mean no offense to you in the slightest, but you have exhausted your supply of those flavour-supplying spices, as well as that delicious, fluffy grain aggregate.”
“And?”
“…We have been eating roasted monster meat for a week now. Only roasted meat, nothing else. Forgive my palate for seeking something else,” she sighed while laying her partisan on the ground next to me. Then, she put her hands together, in front of her chest, palm-to-palm, in the religious tradition of the followers of the Holy Goddess. “Please, kind-hearted strangers, would you be willing to spare a morsel of generosity?!” She began walking around, going from person to person. “Oh, please, I beg of you to find in yourself to help tw–”
“Seriously?” I jumped in, pulling her by her shirt. “Please, do not do that. It is just bread.” Embarrassment began setting in as I felt the gaze of curious passersby.
“Oh, someone, please help me, now this heavily armed boy is seeking to harm this meek soul,” she cried out weakly, thankfully only loud enough for me to hear.
“You’re gonna get us, no, me in trouble,” I whispered to her.
“…Fine, I shall cease my brilliant plan for this spoilsport's sake,” she let out, her words dripping with disappointment.
“Ah say, this troublesum new generation, ya don’t go messin’ round with beggars. They’re part of the city much as ya,” an old man said, coming up to us while pointing a cane at me. Fluffy canine ears folded down from his head. It was… the very same old man who had helped me in finding the Adventurer Guild. Well, “helped” if “helped” meant pointing a finger. “Oh, sweet Goddess, can’t a beggar even beg? Bac– Oh! It’s you, ain’t it, boy!”
“Oh, hey, mister, uh… mister!” I said while placing a hand over Shara’s mouth, who surprisingly complied, standing still.
“Hey, boy, how ya doin’. Just call me Mister Lev. Whatcha doin’ here, shakin’ down this beggar. Ah can’t approve. Ya need a good ol’ edchakation to teach ya what’s right and what ain’t?” he said shaking his cane at me.
“Oh, no, no, no, this girl here’s not a beggar, she’s my… friend? Yes, that’s it, she’s my friend,” I said, peeling my hand from her mouth.
“Hello, mister Lev,” she said with a calm wave.
Lev scrutinized me and then Shara with a careful eye, while gruffly humming to himself. The latter simply smiled innocently at him. “…Okay, guess so. You young ‘uns, so strange these days. Making friends real quick. In my day, took a war or two to make sum good friends. But, you, right after becomin’ a good ol’ adventurer, too, huh? That’s great, innit?” he said through a toothy smile. “Now, now, here’s a gift of celebration for ya.” He shakily took out two silver coins from his pocket.
“Uh, no, I couldn’t become an adventurer. Needed a recommendation and some gold to qualify,” I said. I felt ashamed to say that a little disappointment set in when his coin-offering hand stopped its approach upon hearing my words.
“Oh, ah see,” he said. “That’s a real shame, innit? This damned old city and its damned old Council, changing the rules for no rhyme or reason, crushing the dream ev’ry man has for ‘imself. Don’t feel too fair, right? Well, here’s some coin to make ya feel better.” He handed the two coins to me anyway.
Shara and I shared a quick glance, her eyes saying all but affirmative.
Damn it, just take it, Luqa. Take it and look away. No need to feel ashamed.
I lent out an open palm and received two silver coins. The side facing me showed a coat of arms, a fortress within a shield, flanked by two lion-like creatures at both sides. Unfurled banners at the top and bottom, marked “MUNICIPALITY OF LEFKE” and “I.A. 776”.
This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“There ya go, boy, ‘ave some fun with that, huh? ‘Specially with that new friend of yours, treat ‘em well, don’t chew ‘em and spit ‘em out like some roasted seeds, ey?” he said, slowly turning away.
“Wait, sorry, can I ask you for something… again?” I said.
“…Hm? Now, now, now, getting greedy, I see.” His wrinkled eyes gleamed with a spark. “How can I help you once more, demon boy?” he asked carefully, intently, almost formally.
Demon boy? Am I that easy to identify?
“Could you show us the Mage Guild?” I asked.
“Oh! Ah see. That ain’t a problem at all,” he responded. “Mage Guild, eh? See that street right there,” he said, pointing to a street at the opposite side of the square, leading out. “Just go down that street there, going up hill. Follow that pretty little church bell tower till you get to a grand ol’ square. That fancy magic guild will be easy to find, standing at that square, looking all nicely dressed and posh. Those damned stuffy mages, ah tell ya, wastin’ the city’s money.”
Huh. He actually… was pretty helpful this time.
“Gotcha, thanks for the directions, mister Lev!” I said with a nod.
“Ain’t a problem at all, boy,” he said, finally walking away. “Just take care in that Mage Guild. For all that fancy research they do, they ain’t quite friendly to the unknown and foreign.” He disappeared into the crowd.
***
“Happy?” I asked Shara as we strolled through the busy street, following old man Lev’s directions. The street sloped slightly up, leading into what I would guess was the city’s upper district. The buildings were becoming cleaner, with more stories and more decorated facades, as we progressed. The crowd we walked amongst had turned from the diverse, varying groups of the Main Square into an outwardly wealthier, more predominantly human crowd, though I saw an elf here and there, and a couple beastfolk among the humans.
“Absolutely so, beyond reasonable belief,” she hummed as she took an excited bite on the bread in her hands. I held a similar baked pastry of my own. It was a bread baked to a beautiful, warm brown, shaped into a distinct form, looping on itself, and forming three holes within, two smaller and one larger, allowing one to hold it with ease. A garnishing of salt and butter added the finishing touches. “How can such a heavenly object originate from the toil of mortals?”
“Heavenly? I wouldn’t go that far,” I said, munching on the pastry, first encountering a somewhat crunchy exterior, and then a soft chewy interior, unleashing a savory, rich flavor. “Though, you’re right in implying that ‘the toil of mortals’ can accomplish the unbelievable. I mean, we’re in a city.”
“…Well, that is you mortals’ ways. Offsetting death with creation of your own, whether children, monuments, or a delicious recipe,” she said while chewing, “Now, tell me what this plan of yours is. Why the Mage Guild?”
“I guess this is just a try-and-see kind of move, but the receptionist at the Adventurer Guild told us that they take recommendations from the Mage Guild. I thought that I could register in the Mage Guild and see where that takes us… speaking of which, can you use magic? Depending on your answer, we could also get you registered,” I said.
“…Hoh? Can I use magic, you ask?” She stopped eating her pastry. “If you were not so endearing, you would be subject to my merciless fury for such shameless impertinence.”
“You think I’m endearing? Thanks.”
“Hmm. What do you suppose magic itself is?” she continued, opting to ignore my response.
“Well…,” I trailed off into thought. While I thought, I swung my head habitually, slightly, side-to-side, as we continued walking. “…I suppose magic is a mage’s ability to shape the world to his own will.”
“That is not quite wrong, but it is not quite right as well,” she said. “Magic, while it may appear miraculous to your eyes, is not able to realize every little wish your so-called ‘will’ may yearn for. I suppose my definition of magic would be that it is the attempt to manipulate phenomena by transforming present potential into actuality.”
“Potential?” I said, “Is that just a really vague, fancy way to refer to mana?”
“If that explanation aids your understanding, then perhaps so. By discovering methods to shape potential, or, mana, you mortal mages have formulated what you call ‘magic’. But, on the other hand,” she said while taking a slow, intentional bite of her pastry, “it is by no means a miracle. Mages cannot overcome the limits of reality, and their magic must constrain itself to the domain of the world, much as the letters cannot fly off from a page simply because it wishes to. But for the higher beings who weave the fabric of the world,” she continued, subtly pointing at herself while wearing a smug smile, or at least what she thought made for subtle pointing, “should the case be similar? Should the deities above play along with the mortals below, subject to the same rules? After all, who constructed such rules?”
She looked at her now empty hands, and her satisfied smile curved into a frown, realizing that she had completely consumed her fill. Her eyes slowly drifted towards the pastry I held.
“Well, that was a lot of air, and a lot more boasting,” I said, passing her my leftovers with a sigh, “and maybe it’s just the way of ‘higher beings’ to be so vague, but what exactly do you mean? Are you just trying to brag that a deity will always be better at magic than any mortal?”
“No, no, I am saying no such thing,” she purred while excitedly digging in to the still-warm bread I gave her, “all I seek to say is that the magic of mortals is all but a shadow to the miracles of deities. One manipulates existing potential, whether within or without, while the other creates potential in the path to manipulate reality.”
“Huh… so deities create their own mana?” I asked.
“Not quite. That is why I refer to it as ‘potential,’ and not mana,” she said. “The two are not quite equal. See, one can project a higher dimensional object to a domain of less dimensions, like how a three-dimensional sphere projects a two-dimensional circular shadow, but one cannot do so backwards, in the same way a circular shadow does not necessarily originate from a sphere. And as such ‘mana’ is ‘potential’, but ‘potential’ is not limited to what you understand as ‘mana’.”
“So this potential is a generalization of ‘mana’, but for the domain of higher beings, huh? Well, thanks for all these mental exercises,” I said, scratching my head in wonder, “but all I asked is if you could use magic. Or, at the very least, what we ‘mortals’ call magic.”
“…” Surprisingly, she gave no response. Her face began to flush, and she gulped down the rest of the pastry, chewing furiously. “…No,” she mumbled with a full mouth.
“…Hahaha! Are you kidding me?!” I laughed, “All of that, just to avoid saying no to that question?”
“Cease your howling, brutish hound!” she yelled, her cheeks reddened. This was indeed a rare, historic event demanding a chronicler: Shara showing shame. “If I tried it, I would undoubtedly excel!”
“Hahaha…” I doubled over in continued laughter, trying to catch my breath. “Ah… I’m sure you would, Shara.”
“I would, indeed!” Her tail curved in front of her, and she began running her hands through its fur.
“Sorry… I really just did not expect your answer, nor did I expect you to be so embarrassed by it. I mean, you can do so-called ‘miracles’, right? What’s the need for magic when you have miracles,” I said. I made to pat her shoulder in comfort, but her tail quickly whipped my hand away. “Yeouch!”
“Hands off, you skin-touching, deviant, insensitive, blustering brute!” she said, “…but thank you for the thought. I can indeed do what you call ‘miracles’ but…” She paused, as if considering her response carefully. “Simply put, I’d rather not perform such miracles. I tire of them, and they tire me. Why rewrite the world when the world is sufficient as it is? And who's to say magic has no place? I meant no intention to disparage you mortal mages with my words earlier. After all, is not the pursuit of the grand by the small, through seeking ability by unraveling mystery rather than simply creating mystery itself, more applaudable than possessing the power of a deity by birthright?”
“Quite the humility from the ‘proud gryphon’ here,” I said. “And you sound like a maiden stricken with pure love, the way you’re describing magic here. Why won’t you actually try it out yourself?”
“Perhaps later when we’ve settled our business here. Or, rather, your business here. You’re the mage of the two of us, after all.” The street we were walking on had converged into a large square, dominated by a cathedral of stone in the center. But behind the cathedral, on the south side of the square, was a building of comparable architectural wonder, decorated with arches and ribbed, elaborate windows and eye-catching banners. Wide stone stairs lead up to the large wooden doors, guarded by two sentries, clad in silver-plate armor.
Looks “dressed and posh”. That should be the Mage Guild indeed.
“Mhm, I’ll see if getting registered in the Mage Guild can help the both of us with our own registration problems in the Adventurer Guild.” We stopped in front of the building, taking in its overwhelming appearance. “Hopefully, registration shouldn’t be a problem for me. I mean, after all, a four element affinity should mean something to the mages here, right?”