Jourd was the first and last stop on her trip worthy of the title of city. Nestled under the shadow of the Orphant mountains the city quickly grew as a trading and industrial hub. Metals and minerals from the range flow out and Jourd was one destination. Blacksmith’s forges flared all day and night and the stream of merchants never stopped marching. Weapons and tools, gems and jewelry, a constant flow of products and trade took place in Jourd.
No matter how many towns and cities Lia had visited in her travels, entering a city was always overwhelming. The thick bustle of people that left little room for oneself. A myriad of odors – some pleasant and some foul – mixing in the air and assaulting the nose. The continuous racket of the whines of work animals and the chatter of people and the hammers of the forges. For someone raised in the quiet country side, it would never not be overwhelming.
However, it could always come to be bearable. Besides, after finally reaching her destination from weeks of travel she was keen to complete the task the boy in the dungeon gave her. Discomfort from the city life wasn’t going to stop her. Trying to find one person among the many thousands in the city, however, might. One step at a time, she thought to herself.
Post offices were a dime a dozen in the city. Dumping off the letters in the mail was an easy task to check off. Lia strolled into the first one she found, arranged for postage, and asked the old lady at the counter, “I am to meet a friend named Gil Fins, but I don’t know where he could be. Have you heard of the man before? He’s a mage.”
The lady plucked the letters from Lia’s hands and gave them a quick look. “Haven’t heard of him,” she responded without looking at her. The receptionist said nothing more and shuffled the letters into the stacks, a quiet acceptance.
Lia wasn’t worried – but the cold service left her dissatisfied with the post’s performance. In major cities there are often organizations and guilds and groups for professions and jobs. Jourd was no exception. There was a group or guild for mages somewhere here. Finding the man would be no problem if he was registered, and if he wasn’t, she was more likely to find someone who knew of him there.
It was an easy find, a fancy towering building on the east side of Jourd sitting among the lazy businesses and homes. She was thankful it wasn’t on the westside where all the forges were. The air was dirty from the fires, smoky and smoggy. It never failed to burn her eyes and tingle her nose.
The mage guild was fashioned like a library, wide and open floors with a continuous spiral up. Naturally, books lined the walls and the only sounds were the clacking of shoes on stone floors and the ruffling of books. It was clean and proper.
At the center of the network of hallways and staircases on the bottom floor was a circular desk with staff. Lia approached a young bland man in baggy clothes who asked, “Good evening. Ma’am. What business do you have for us today?”
“I’m supposed to meet with a mage in town, an acquaintance of a friend of mine for some business,” she replied, “I was having trouble locating him and was wondering if you would be able to help.”
“Certainly,” he said pulling out a large brown leather book from under the counter. “We have a registry on most mages in the city, where they live in such. May I have a name?”
“Yes, his name is Gil. Gil Fins.”
The clerk man looked up from the book and squinted his eyes are Lia. “You came here for him? That Gil Fins?”
“Um…” Lia held her right arm and glanced around, “Is there another Gil Fins?”
He slammed the book shut, “I pray to the Gods there isn’t.” A parchment and pen appeared and he furiously scribbled on it. Eyebrows raised, he shook his head at no particular direction, exhaling a deep sigh. “Here you go Ma’am.”
On the parchment was an address and directions, more than enough for Lia to find her way to it. “T-thanks,” she managed to reply in the face of the man. Lia wasn’t sure what to make of that reaction. She went to go find this Gil Fins.
The smell of smoke stung her nose. The man’s directions led her west deep into the heart of the forges and metal workers. A calm wind blew west, making it all the worse; a constant stream of the fumes assaulted her senses from every direction.
Unlike the area around the mages headquarters which was nice and proper, homes kept up well and businesses lined up neatly, the west side of Jourd was coarse, like sand. Seedy men loitered the street, stubby dwarves roamed together in a drunken stupor, and many buildings were grey and dilapidated.
Down a dirty alley did the address lead her. It was cramped, barely enough room for two people to walk side-to-side. A rat scurried through the littered trash and she stood in front of a quaint, shuttered house.
A man was banging on the door, “Open up Gil! I know you are in there!”
“Excuse me,” Lia said, “Is this the home of Gil Fins?”
The grubby old man turned around and snorted, “Damn right it is. Who are you? Another person who he owes money too?”
“Nothing like that, I’m just a friend checking up on him.”
“That’s rich!” He laughed. The man trotted down the steps and spit into the street, “Well, tell your friend if he doesn’t pay up he will be living in the streets.” He walked off down the street.
“Is he even home?” Called out Lia.
He chuckled again, “Like he has a job!”
Lia frowned and looked again at the address written down. This had to be the place. She tip-toed up the grimy steps, trying her best not to step into any rubbish. “Anyone home?” Lia asked, knocking on the door. No response. She knocked once, knocked twice, and the door popped open. No one was behind it. The slamming and banging by the creditor must have broken the lock and hinges. She shrugged and went in.
“Hello,” she called out again, “Is anyone home?” The home was extremely small. Before here was a small kitchen with a nook attached to an equally as small living room. Somehow a staircase was fit in the middle leading up. There was no one on the first floor, she could see everything from the door. From upstairs she heard a faint groan and made haste up it.
Face down on the floor was a young man with dirty blonde hair. “Oh shit,” She muttered to herself and rushed over to him. “Are you alright?” Lia propped him up, picking the man off the floor. It was hard to get a grip through his baggy clothing, but she realized it was fitting ill because the boy was nothing but skin and bone.
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The man groaned again and feebly looked up, “Oh, hello there I wasn’t expecting visitors – sorry I’m not feeling very well right now so I couldn’t answer the door – would you care for some tea, no wait I forgot I’m out of water, but how about some cookies – no wait I ate all of those already.”
“Calm down and stop talking,” ordered Lia. His lips were dry and cracking and his tongue looked like it was about to fall apart. “Are you sick? What’s wrong?”
Gil Fins croaked a laugh, “No, no I’m afraid I didn’t mean I wasn’t well in that I was sick; it is just the usual under the weather, you know? I just haven’t eaten or drinken anything in the last few days, nothing a little bit of rest won’t solve!” He ended with a harsh, dry cough.
She picked up the feather named Gil and swung him over her shoulder. “I didn’t expect Hector to send me to someone like this,” she complained out loud. “Just sit tight. I won’t let you die – not until I’ve completed my job.” The boy was out of it. He babbled and groaned. Nothing coherent.
Lia lugged Gil down the steps and flung him over a ragged sofa in the living room, the only other notable piece of furniture besides his small bed upstairs and a two-seated kitchen table with enough room for one. She took what food and water out of her bag and went to the kitchen. The boy needed a meal, some meat on his bones.
It wasn’t long before she had a steaming bowl of porridge prepared for the both of them. She placed the bowl in front of Gil and bade him to eat. “You better eat it too after I worked so hard to make it,” Lia said pouting, folding her arms beneath her breasts. Gil groaned and his hand wavered over the food. “I’m not feeding you it either,” she added.
Soon enough, Gil mustered the strength to straighten himself. He took one bite and was halfway done the next. One glass of water became three gulped. Life had come back to the boy’s sullen and droopy face.
“So,” Gil smacked his lips, “My good old friend Hector sent you?” Lia nodded and handed him the letter. Gil tried to tear It openly carefully, but it ripped straight diagonally. He sighed and whipped out the letter, perusing through it with his bagged eyes. His jaw dropped and his eyes went wide with shock. “Is… is what this letter says true?” He waved it in the air.
“I don’t know what it says,” Lia curtly responded. “But if it talks about Hector’s interesting… situation then it is true.”
“This is insane! Do you know what this means? For a mage that craved a research topic so interesting, this excites me beyond belief!” He slammed the table and got up, “We must leave now! There is no time.” Gil took a step forward and tripped over himself. He still lacked the energy for proper movement.
“Looks like you aren’t going anywhere,” Lia chuckled looking at the toppled Gil. “And I don’t know what you mean by ‘we’ – I never said I was going back.”
“Really now?” Gil said picking himself up off the floor. “Hector mused as much in his letter, but I’m curious as to why?”
She furrowed her brow, “The letter said he thought I wouldn’t come back? Let me see,” she said reaching forward to snatch the letter.
“Uh-uh-uuuuuuh, no can do,” Gil snapped, swiping the letter from the table. “The letter is addressed to me, not you.”
Lia folded her arms and frown, “I guess so. Either way, I have no plans to return because I don’t see a point. He saved my life, and I’m thankful for that, but it wasn’t like he wasn’t guilt free in causing the situation. Not only that, but he was reluctant to share what happened until I practically guilted him into it.”
“He normally does that,” Gil interrupted, “He doesn’t like people getting involved in his messes if he could help it.”
“The bolt in my stomach told me I was already involved,” retorted Lia, “But that is beside the point. I made a living travelling by peddling and doing odd jobs. I can live that way again. He offered to do great and grand things as he may have wrote in the letter.” Gil nodded in acknowledgement. “But I can’t trust him. I have no reason to trust someone who does things that can’t be explained and then refuses to explain anything. For all I know he is just like any other shady businessman offering some seedy deal.”
“Well, I’ve known him for a long time, and I trust him,” Gil said with confidence.
“Well, Gil, I don’t know him – I can’t trust him.”
“Question,” Gil said, “How much did he tell you about himself.”
She waved off the question, “What do you mean? He told me he was a knight and how he ended up in that situation. It’s not like he told me his life story, like anyone had the time for that anyways.”
Gil nodded his head, “I see. What did he say his name was?”
Lia frowned. What a strange question. She responded, “Hector Sageus.”
“That, my lovely guest, is not his full name.”
“What does that matter?”
“That, my lovely guest, makes a big difference in understanding my friend Hector. He hates telling people, and hates it even more when others blab about him, but since you so kindly treated me to a meal, I will tell you.”
“Does the letter ask for you do to that?”
“Oh, no,” he chuckled, “This is of my own accord. He would never ask people to share the name which has caused him so much grief – he does everything he can to avoid and forget it after all. He is Hector Hevagrain Sageus.”
“Huh?” Lia fumbled out. A middle name that was the country’s name?
“If it doesn’t click,” Gil said as if he was reading her mind, “His middle name is Hevagrain because he is part of the royal family.”
“Wait… What?!” She was shocked and confused and the gears in her head started to turn.”
Gil Fins the mage laughed heartily, “Don’t be mistaken, his royal blood isn’t some godly trait, not for him at least. Hector is the son of the third heir to throne. In his own words, he was ‘someone important enough for people to remember, but not important enough for people to care about.’ Or something like that. He would tell you his life problems came from the misfortune of his birth. Growing up, he was ‘too important’ for the common folk so most treated him nothing like a proper person. On the opposite side, he wasn’t ‘important enough’ to his family and the other nobles, too far down in the line of succession, so he was looked down on.” Gil leaned back in the chair and remarked, “And the only way he was going to be important is if some heads rolled, and no one wanted that, if you understand what I mean.”
Lia had an idea: Hector’s family members didn’t have any use for him, so any ambition he had could be seen as a threat. He would only become important if some heads rolled after all. “So is that why he became a knight?” Lia asked.
“Yes. He wanted to get away from it all. The politics. The prejudice. The persecution. After we all graduated, he quietly went away, like a whisper in the night.”
“I see. Never thought his life story would be that interesting, but don’t expect me to trust him just because you told me his background.”
“Of course not,” Gil mused, “It wasn’t my intention. I was simply talking about an old friend of mind and hoped you would find the information as interesting as I do.”
Lia certainly did. “I can’t say I trust him, but I think I’ll change my mind; I will go back to him and that dungeon.”
“Oh-ho-ho!” The bony mage leaned forward, “And what, my lovely guest, triggered this change?”
“I said I could make a living travelling and peddling – and I still can. But… if Gil is some royal member, some noble, there might be some benefit in sticking around; there might be some influence or some money or some opportunities to be gained being around someone highborn like him.”
“An opportunist!” He exclaimed. “I respect it., but don’t expect him to push around his noble blood like it’s some magical end all.”
She purred, “Of course not. I just see opportunity in sticking to him I might not get elsewhere. And if things go sour, you can expect me to leave.”
“Of course,” he purred back with his hoarse throat. “So, we leave as soon as I recover, yes?”
“About that,” she nervously laughed, “You had someone banging on the front door. Said he was going to kick you out if you don’t pay up.”
Gil’s face went pale, “Oh.”
“Speaking of which, how did that happen?”
“Well, uh…” Gil Fins the mage scratched the back of his neck. “I graduated with top marks so I went out in search of work. I declined military work, not my sort of thing, so I came here to do research and experiments with forging and imbuing things with magic. I thought I could make some breakthroughs in enchanting, but it didn’t work out. I borrowed money, wasn’t able to making any back, couldn’t hold a job, ran dangerous experiments that endangered the public, typical things like that. All I got was plain old worthless jewelry and a list of people that would shake me by the legs to find any dusty piece of coin in my pockets…”
“Oh?” Lia perked up. “You can make jewelry?” She tilted her head, gave a longing stare, squeezed together her breasts, and asked in a sweet high voice, “Maybe the talented mage could make this girl a pretty set of jewelry? I haven’t worn anything nice in ages…”
Gil laughed, “Your seductive prowess hold no sway over this wizard, thot. I shall make no such objects for your worldly satisfaction. And, I mean, didn’t you get the memo? I’m broke without money or a forge.”
Lia giggled to herself, “Yeah, I know. Just teasing,” she said with a wink. “At any rate, we gotta leave – or else you might have people coming for you.”
“Good point my lady, but how will we accomplish such travel with me in such an unfortunate condition?”
“Don’t worry about that,” Lia commented, getting up and patting her clothes clean. “I’ll figure out a way.”
Gil Fins, a studious mage with a keen thirst for knowledge (who graduated top of his class he would have you know) didn’t like that sound of that one bit.