The scent of searing meat wafted through the room, accompanied by the crisp crackle of oil in a pan. He blinked sleep from bleary eyes, momentarily blinded by a ray of midday sun streaming through the window, before forcing them open with the memory of the past day. Jumping to a sitting position in the plush bed, luxurious thin sheets wrapped between his legs, Alex scanned the environs.
He was lying atop a spacious single bed. Discounting the remarkably comfortable bedding, the room was spartan in appearance. Sturdy shelves lined the wall above him, and an aged, thick wooden trunk sat at the foot of the bed, complete with a black-iron key placed carefully on its head. A simple desk took up the remainder of the floorspace, positioned beneath a glass window that permitted the illumination of natural light.
Looking down at himself, he was surprised by the smoothness of his skin. No bruises, cuts, or contusions disturbed the pale surface, and even the debilitating aches he’d expected from the prior days’ activities was absent. He was, however, quite naked. The whole experience was rather baffling. The last time someone had disrobed him and set him to bed was a very, very long time ago. Where was he?
The sound of distant chatter echoed through the wooden door to his right, and straining his ears, Alex could pick out a cheery tone to the affair. There was a great variety to their cadence, which surprised him. The Waystation? He thought, closing his eyes for a moment. It has to be, with this many people. I don’t recognise any of these voices. The events immediately preceding his passing out flowed back slowly, and he placed a hand on his heart - where his internal reservoir, his core, was situated.
It had grown. Not to such a size as it had reached the night before, but it was a notable difference in size. Maybe half a quarter? Precision was difficult with such things, but he took a moment to draw on his internal energy, and that revealed a startling revelation. Alex’s eyes widened as he drew a deep breath. The size hadn’t increased much, true, but the density of his energy had significantly increased. The realisation came slowly.
Bronze-rank. He thought, staring down at his navel. I’ve reached Bronze-rank.
Alex was no slouch as an Imbuer, he knew, with plenty of opportunities to practice his skills under his mother’s tutelage. Still, nobody had expected him to crest Iron-rank until at least his nineteenth name day. Even that would have placed him ahead of the curve for the town, excepting prodigies and those with exceptional talent. Somehow, he’d skipped an entire year of passive refinement exercises?
He was assailed with many questions. There were no answers to be found in this small room, though. Which itself brought another question to mind - why was he in this room at all? The memory of the landlord’s ardent refusal to rent them a place to stay for the night was fresh in his mind, but the question merely joined the pile. He swung his legs out of bed.
His clothes were indeed stored within the sturdy trunk, alongside his travel pack and dagger, all freshly cleaned. Reaching out, his finger slid along the dagger’s flat surface, recalling the deep violence it had been used to inflict only hours ago. All remnants of his imbuement had dissipated by this point, leaving no indication that the dagger had ever been anything more than a lump of crafted metal. He placed the weapon atop the bed, then began to dress.
Extravagant clothing didn’t fall into their budget, so Alex had always erred on the plain side of fashion. Donning the simple white tunic, he followed up by slipping on a pair of brown woollen trousers and functional brown leather boots. Someone had taken the time to sew up some fresh holes in the tunic, he spotted, and mentally reminded himself to thank whoever had taken care of his clothing situation. Walking into the capital with torn clothing would not have been ideal.
Surveying his appearance in the faint reflection of the window, Alex adjusted his clothes to look their best, then settled on his face. A nice boy, he thought, frowning to himself. It was true his features retained plenty of boyish youth, clear-skinned and lacking in much facial hair, but he’d received compliments about the strength of his jaw and serious, uncompromising expression before. He owed a lot of that to his thick eyebrows and inexpressive eyes, he wagered. Not that it was the appropriate time for vanity.
He tied off the strip of rope that served as a belt, and stepped out of the room onto a small, private landing. He could only spot two other doors on this upper level. Taking the stairs down, he emerged into a bright, homely kitchen area, the crackling stove manned by a woman. She was rather tall, compared to the women he was familiar with from home, and boasted a bulky figure that belied some significant muscles. An Augmenter, Alex thought, politely coughing.
“Just a second, young’un. Lunch won’t make itself.” she said, focused on the smorgasbord of meats, breads and cheeses in front of her. “Go let my husband know you’re awake, by the bar. Serving time’s not long off. Your sister’s waiting, too.”
“Right, uh, thank you.” Alex replied, confusion evident in his tone. The unfamiliar woman pointed a thumb toward a door to the right, and he took the hint, making his way over to the entryway and opening the surprisingly heavy stalwart oaken door.
A wall of cacophonous sound slammed into the kitchen, revealing a bustling common area filled to the brim with at least two-dozen people. The room’s occupants were mostly men, all seated around the many tables he’d briefly sighted the night before. The variety in dress and demeanour was thoroughly alien to him. On one table, well-groomed gentlemen in cloth garments hunched over reams of parchment, exchanging furtive whispers and the occasional diplomatic shake of the head. At another, a gang of befurred warriors boisterously exchanged tales of valor and bravery, their claims evidenced by a plethora of scarring and the rugged weapons kept at their side. Some few tables were claimed by those closer in station to Alex himself - those being young men and women with a worker’s complexion, clad in hemp and wool clothing reminiscent of his own - but none wore a rank-plate denoting anything less than Silver. It was a shocking sight for Alex, who was not wholly unfamiliar with the chaos of the town tavern, but who had certainly never encountered such a gathering of higher-ranked individuals.
The sight mesmerised him. Never had Seaport played host to such a diverse crowd of personalities, and even those few travellers who had eclipsed Bronze-rank were the martial sort, caravan guards and the occasional privateer making up the bulk. Here, though, merchants, workers and fighters alike boasted a rank that would place them in the upper echelon of his home town: his mother, who herself was a native to the Capital, had only achieved Silver-rank over many years of practice and experience.
“Alex! Over here, lad.”
The call came from the bar, where the grouchy landlord from the prior evening had been replaced by a grinning, cheerful version of the same man. He was engaged in the age-old bartender’s trick, to appear busy by polishing a tankard that had no hope of remaining so, and inclined his head toward one of the rugged stools positioned at the bartop. A young girl’s head whipped around at the landlord’s words, and she shot him a hesitant smile, before waving him over. At least Ellie’s okay, Alex thought, a mote of internal tension dissipating. He’d feared she might have been forced to stay with the other refugees on her own.
Taking a seat at the bar, the landlord set a tankard of what appeared to be ale before him, leaning back against the rear countertop and inspecting him. As the man’s eyes travelled up and down Alex’s form, he grunted, seemingly finding what he was looking for.
“You feeling alright?”
It took Alex a moment to find his words. The whirl of activity had been unexpected, and his evening accommodation even more so. For someone who’s life had followed a familiar routine for so long, the change was wholly unfamiliar, but a small part of him recognised that past way of life was forever lost to him, now. Time to start rolling with the punches.
“I am,” Alex said, nodding. “Better than I should, actually. I was expecting a lot more pain after everything…” he said, trailing off as memories threatened to return.
“Hah! That’s what breakin’ a rank boundary will do for ya, lad. Been a long time since I’ve felt it myself, but it’s a hard one to forget. Near-instant recovery saved my arse in the field, once or twice.”
Alex took a short sip from the tankard, the ale bitter on his tongue, but he kept a straight face. Real men liked the taste, after all.
“So that’s what it was,” Alex said, lowering the tankard. “Bronze-rank. A lot quicker than I was expecting it.”
“Aye, the little miss here has been fillin’ me in on your little town all morning. A town where nobody bothers hunting,” the landlord commented, scratching at his beard. “A strange thing, to be sure. No wonder everyone was so weak.”
Alex was momentarily taken aback, and he glimpsed Ellie’s smug smile at his reaction. Clearly, she’d gone through much of the same in the time he was unconscious. Seeming to grasp his backhanded insult, the landlord shook his head.
“Nothin’ on you or the little miss, lad. You couldn’t help what you didn’t know, eh? Still, good to see you’ve got some fire in yer belly. Taking down a Feirwolf at Iron-rank, well, that’s a promising start.” The man took a sip from a tankard of his own, smacking his lips at the draw. “Even if the little miss set it up for ye.”
The landlord’s words brought back the deciding moment of the previous night, the jet of flame that had unbalanced the Feirwolf and provided Alex the opportunity to finish the fight. Eyebrows raising, he turned to face Ellie. “That was you?”
Ellie nodded, nursing the tankard of water in her hands. “It was scary. I woke up, and, all I saw was that monster on top of you. I didn’t have much energy left, but…” her eyes drifted for a moment, staring beyond the surface of her drink. “I didn’t have to think about it. Just grabbed whatever power I could and threw it.”
The small exercises Ellie had been so proud of back home were impressive, to be sure, but to display that level of control? Thirteen years old, and throwing around combat manifestations like a fully-trained Evoker? Alex shook his head in disbelief, before chuckling.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
“Damn, Ellie. Maybe you should’ve been the one to hit Bronze. Thank you for saving me,” he said, patting her on the shoulder with a small smile. The girl lit up with familiar pride for a moment, before shrinking again, her focus returned to the depths of her non-alcoholic drink.
The landlord let out a guffaw, drawing the attention of nearby patrons, before shaking his head. “Now, lad, don’t you go putting that on the little miss. She’s a talented one, aye, but you’re supposed to be the man here.” His expression took a turn for the serious, eyes narrowing just a tad. “She shouldn’t have to win your fights for you.”
Alex swallowed, pride for his sister overshadowed by the rapidly surging shame in his belly. The landlord was right. Not only had he deserted his hometown, but he did so under the pretence of protecting his sister, and yet at the first sign of real danger she had been the one to save him. A complex blend of emotions began to darken his mood, a reflection of the previous night’s nightmares - both real and in his head - before the landlord slapped his hand down on the countertop.
“None of that. Whatever happened, happened. Important thing is you’re both alive to tell the tale, and better yet, now you know what fightin’ a monster is like. That’ll serve you well in the future.”
Alex paused for a moment, before nodding. The landlord was right. Ellie had been the one to save his skin this time, but that only meant he needed to get up to speed on the dangers in the world - and fast. If an even more dangerous monster tried to make a meal of them, it would his job to kill the beast before it could hurt Ellie. He set his shoulders back and took a deeper pull from the tankard, under the grinning visage of the landlord.
“You’re right. Thank you for helping us, by the way,” he said, inclining his head toward the landlord. “I can see Ellie’s told you all about us, but I didn’t catch your name.”
“Arrius.” the older man replied, gesturing toward a placard on the wall which dubbed the place as ‘Coastcross Waystation, Landlord Arrius’. “It’s no bother. Any young’un tough enough to tangle with a Feirwolf is alright in my book. Not like that useless lot you came in with. Bah.” he spat into a bucket on the floor, darkness in his eyes. “That lot’ll be learnin’ plenty about the real world once they reach the capital. Another gang of beggars for the streets.”
“I didn’t know things were that bad at the capital,” Alex said, leaning back on the stool. “From what we heard from travellers, it’s supposed to be an amazing place.”
“Amazing it is, aye,” Arrius said, crossing his arms. “Thing is, you got too many weaklings nowadays. Ain’t willing to take their lives into their own hands and fight some beasties. What use is an Iron-rank with no fight in ‘em?” He shook his head. “See it all the time. Whole gangs of ‘em that don’t do anything to better themselves, then walk about expecting a job fer nothin’, or worse yet livin’ off the goodwill of the useful. Pathetic, is what it is.”
Alex considered that for a moment, then frowned. “There has to be work for them though, right? Labouring, mining, fishing… Seaport didn’t have any trouble with getting folks into work. Some of the other…” his tongue caught on the word, before pushing through. “Some of the other refugees have useful skills. I know I saw the blacksmith’s son in the crowd last night, and I’m a tinker’s apprentice.”
Arrius looked away, a glimmer of pity in his eyes. “Ah, see, it’s unfortunate lad, but…” he sighed. “Those skills ain’t going to be of any use to anyone in the capital, you see?”
“What? Even mine?”
Arrius slowly nodded. “I ain’t sayin’ your master didn’t know their trade, or that you don’t know what you’re doing. It’s just…” he weighed with his hands, miming two objects on a set of scales. “Capital’s full of plenty of folks who’ve been doin’ this for generations, with the affinities to boot. Nobody’s going to hire a Bronze tinker when there’s a stable of Silver tinkers with Guild training to look at, you see?”
The idea floored him. He’d been learning under his mother for five years, at this point, and all of that experience would count for nothing in the capital? He hadn’t had much time to plan what they would do yet, but it was seemingly obvious: find a tinker’s workshop and offer himself up as a labourer. There was never any guarantee with this type of thing, that wasn’t a surprise, but to hear that he didn’t stand a chance? Uncertainty crept in, and he saw a similar look of unease on Ellie’s face, though accompanied by a tinge of anger.
She shook her head. “No way. My brother’s really, really good. Mother taught him circuits, energy transference, all sorts! They were the town’s best tinkers. That has to count for something.”
Arrius’ lips thinned. “I’m sorry, little miss. That’s just the way of things. I ain’t sayin’ you’re going to be stuck on the streets, but…” he sighed. “It ain’t going to be that easy.”
“What about the other things - labouring, mining?” Alex asked, his mind running through any low-skilled profession he could think of. “Surely people need that work?”
“Aye, they do,” Arrius said. “Thing is, you’re an Imbuer, from what I can tell. Physical work like that, any operation worth their salt is going to be bringing on Bronze Augmenters, minimum.” he shrugged, patting his own bicep. “Why pay an Imbuer with valuable coin that can go to someone who works faster, lasts longer?”
Alex leaned his elbow on the countertop, chin in hand. His mind rapidly spun through ideas, placing any potential plan under the review of this new perspective. Things had worked similarly in Seaport, true, but there hadn’t been enough Augmenters to exclude every other affinity from those jobs. Not to mention the trades, the professions, which commanded quite a bit of skill and respect. All of it was pointless, simply because they lacked a high enough rank to get the job? He wasn’t panicking, he decided. It simply looked hopeless.
“What do people like me do, then? Low-ranked, but skilled in something?” he asked, his eyes fixed on the counter.
“Well…” Arrius muttered, stroking his beard. “It’s tough. If there were any easy answers, everyone would be doing it, see? Plenty of folk end up in the capital, and it depends what you’ve got. With enough coin, some turn to merchanting to make their bread, others take up guard work, some make inroads in the entertainment district…” he grunted. “Others turn to crime, or begging, but you don’t look like that sort to me.”
It was starting to feel like it didn’t matter what he looked like, Alex thought. Ten silver wouldn’t last them very long, and certainly didn’t strike him as enough to run caravans. He wasn’t particularly charismatic, so the entertainment route was probably right out, and his performance against the Feirwolf left him doubtful that any merchant in their right mind would entrust the safety of their caravans to him. Not to mention the question of Ellie - he couldn’t just leave her on her own. Crime was beginning to look like one of the few options he had left, but that wasn’t a skillset he’d spent any time honing, and was a last resort besides. It bore consideration at the very least. Watching his little sister starve on the streets was unthinkable.
“What about the smaller cities, or towns?” Alex asked, recalling the crossroads they’d recently passed. “Alvora or Riverfix are close enough, and they aren’t as big as the capital, right?”
Arrius nodded, though the remorseful expression on his face told Alex everything he needed to know. “Aye. Usually, that’s where I’d advise you to go, except for the invasion. Royal Army had boots on the Regnal Road by early morning, so travel is locked up tight ‘round here for a good while, that’ll be the source of my good business today. Only way forward is the capital for you, I’m afraid.”
Despite the raucous environment of the common area, an uncomfortable silence descended on the trio’s conversation. Alex’s hands formed a triangle as his eyes darted from side to side, considering what options remained to them in a foreign, unfamiliar city. Ellie regarded her brother with no small measure of worry for the both of them, her posture falling even further than it had been when he arrived, and Arrius looked upon the pair with sympathetic, assessing eyes. A minute passed before the older man seemed to reach a decision.
“There is an option,” he said, looking off into the distance. “Not sure you’re right for it, and it’ll take some convincing on your part, but I might be able to help you out.”
“Anything.” Alex said, his eyes darting up to meet Arrius’ own. “Whatever you’re thinking, I’ll do it.”
“Hold your horses, lad,” the older man cautioned. “Like I said, there’s some convincing you’ll need to do. For now, you and the little miss can bunk here. With all this business, the wife and I can afford to take on a couple promising strays for a while.”
“Right. Thank you,” Alex said, reaching for his travel pack. “We don’t have much, but maybe we can stretch our coin -”
Arrius raised a hand. “No coin. I won’t force you into begging your way to the capital, lad. Besides, you’ll be staying in private rooms for now, so you ain’t costing me anything more than some food and a bit of time.”
Alex cocked his head. “Private rooms?”
“Aye. You spent the night holed up in my boy’s room, and the little miss in my daughter’s. Both of ‘em left for the army a good while back, so they won’t be comin’ home any time soon, but I like to keep the option open for ‘em both.” Arrius rubbed the Gold rank-plate around his neck for a few seconds. “Doing their old man proud, the pair of ‘em. My youngest ain’t much older than you, actually.”
A second passed before the man shook his head, wistful smile on his face, before returning his attention to Alex and Ellie. “In my younger years, I was a military man. Rank of Sergeant before I retired. When you serve as long as Tyra and I, they give you a few benefits when you leave. One of those is the ability to recommend promising youths to the Army, practically the only way for weak unknowns to get a foot in the door.”
He sighed. “I ain’t making any guarantees, and you’ll have to prove you deserve them, but I can be convinced to part with my last two recommendation tokens. You’ll have room and board, training, and a career in the capital if the Army takes you on. How does that sound?”
Alex thought about it. He’d never imagined himself a soldier, honestly, but it made plenty of sense. His experience with the Feirwolf had taught him that martial skills could be useful in the wider world, dangerous as it seemed to be, and he wasn’t exactly swimming in options. It wasn’t a decision he would make alone, however. His sister had every right to participate in something this big. He turned to her, question on his lips.
“I’ll do it.” she said, conviction in her eyes. “It’s our best option, and besides, evocation is a good fighting affinity.” she wiggled her fingers. “Anything that gives us the chance to survive the next disaster is worth trying, in my book.”
Nodding, determination filled his veins. Ellie was right. Part of him also found the idea of being a trained soldier exciting, liberating in the face of their recent traumas; the potential to be a brave, daring warrior, a force on the battlefield to be respected. It would help him grow more powerful, which from the ranks of others gathered in the tavern, he judged as desperately needed. A trained soldier could eat monsters for breakfast. A trained soldier could be strong.
“I’m in, as well.” he said.
“Right. Here’s how this’ll work. Morning and evening training, dawn and dusk. You’ll come in for the afternoon service and work, gods know a pair of servers will help me keep this lot in line,” he said, inclining his head toward the rowdy common area.
Alex and Ellie turned to look at each other, exchanging a shared look of confusion, before returning their attention to Arrius. Ellie barely got out the question “Morning and evening?” before a commotion stirred from the kitchen, and the large lady from before slammed open the door.
“Lunch is up, ladies and gents! Coins on the table. We’ll get you fed and watered for a long day sitting on your arses, aye?” she bellowed.
As the room exploded into celebratory cheering, Alex relaxed into his chair. A warm bed, stout food, and a mysterious opportunity on the horizon. In light of the past few days, it seemed the gods had seen fit to present them with a chance.
Catching the expectant, gleefully sadistic look in Arrius’ eyes, Alex’s thoughts turned to the details of this ‘training’. It couldn’t be that bad, right?