The sun slips into a resting tilt as we finish marching back home. Our town is a glorious pile of heaping rubble. It looks much less like a warzone and more like a natural disaster. Fortunately, the dead have all been consumed by the core. The only standing structure is, once again, our glass dome. This time, though, even the glass has been scathed. Even from outside, the internal scorching and scratching can be seen. I like it. The glass was too pristine on its own. This new look gives it a sense of character, or maybe it feels more like a building representing us.
Our biggest hit is our food supplies are destroyed. We have some in the basement, but most were in the main hall. That's even including the healthy rations the Anvileers brought with them. It's a devastating blow. We can't even celebrate our win with a feast. My stomach churns with hunger. After a day of expending mana, eating is one of the best ways to recover. The food alone is almost worth the fight. I know I'm not the only one feeling the pain. Much of the chatter on the return home was centered around dinner.
The disappointing discovery of our food loss did little to diminish our morale. If anything, our people are more motivated to get our town fixed. Feast when we're finished becomes our mantra.
A mixed contingent of spiders, undead, and a few Anvileers scour the surrounding forest for any threats. We still have a tight lockdown on the open portal; this is just extra security. The rest of us work on repairs. Most of the heavy work is completed by our earth cultivators. The air smells of pine, rocks, and dirt while they heal scorches and fill deep rends of the earth. I can't prove it, but I think they've raised the fortress ground. Mana of all types is fed back to our grounds, restoring energy balance. Walls are raised, and temporary buildings are being constructed.
The cleanup and restoration efforts end late in the evening. One more council is called upon by Bones and Gene. This one is centered around the unification of our town and the new roles of our town members.
Due to renovations and renegades, our guild hall is our only venue. The hall has been cleaned thoroughly using fire, water, and air mana. There's no hint that a battle was fought here earlier today. The lone building glows with a soft yellow light from the newly placed runes inside.
The hall is filled with nearly seven hundred bodies in a short time. Only Sylva, Azura, Rurik, and a spider named Kali accept my open chair offer. Kali didn't really say yes. She just stayed by us. The five of us take a spot toward the back of the room, out of the way of the standers. It takes some fine turning to craft the perfect chair for each of us. Azura's chair has a straight back and is a foot taller. Reclined backs are created for me and Silva. I create a wider seat with stronger material for the orc and the spider. Each chair is supplemented with woven padding I've recently begun experimenting with. The spider rests on her large pad like a puppy, settling down for a nap.
Kali is the only spider out of Cru's pack that hasn't awakened. The bladed spider is an enlightened beast at the epic rank — the same rank as the shade Gene somewhat possessed when we entered a warlock contract. The spider hasn't changed much in size. Instead, her exterior is like a metallic hairy fiber. She looks soft yet indestructible. A glance into her eyes reveals a mind alive with a tapestry of thoughts, each weaving into the next with keen intelligence.
"I can not believe anyone chooses to stand," says Azura after thanking me for the chair. The tall woman has a sharp face and long, slender ears. Her hair is pure white, which she wears in an elegant bun even when fighting. Although, from what I've seen, her fighting is much less physical than mine.
The sorcerer mostly fought atop the guild hall, casting meteors and shards of fire down on demons. It looked like the starry sky was her arsenal. Her mana is still a mystery to me. I think it might be along the lines of light. I know it isn't fire. Her powers are almost otherworldly, much like analyzing eyes that seem to be lingering on me. It's taken great effort to not get trapped in her deep gaze.
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"The things you choose to be surprised by," says Sylva as she slumps in her chair. Her posture is as bad as mine. Unlike Azura's ivory-colored formal gown, the bladesmith wears similar armor to what she wore during the battle. Her arms hug the hilt of her long, slender sword resting between her atop her legs.
"They stand because they're eager for what's to come," says Rurick. "I don't recall seeing any of them so lively before." The highlander places his hand on Kali's back. The spider startles with the contact. Rurick delicately scratches the spider's back. Kali settles down, her eyes drifting to close, and she leans closer to the orc. Rurick smiles and continues to scratch the spider's back.
"Lively? Half of us were hardly fighting. Captain was drinking the entire time, and Kellen was no better." As if prompted by Azura's words, Sylva adjusts her sword so that the hilt holds her arms, which she rests her head on. The bladedancer's skill with her sword extends past her fighting ability. The few times I've encountered Sylva, she's either fighting with her sword or resting on it. Even without chair-summoning powers, her ability to relax anywhere is uncanny.
"It's the fact that the other half participated in the fighting at all," says Rurick. "When's the last time you recall seeing the Verdants or Brightsongs fight?"
"The Verdants are growers, and the Brightsongs run a theater," says Azura. "They are both busy with their families as well."
"Not only did they fight today, but did you see Carlin and Colement going all out in the battle?" Asks Rurick rhetorically. "The only time I've seen those two move from their rocking chairs at the smithy was to get on the boat to leave Anvil, and that's only because Corrin dragged them by their saggy scalps. I'd no idea Amy's such a formidable fire templar."
"Rurick is right," says Sylva. "Look at them." She waves her hand to the crowd before us. Not a single person in the room looks tired. There are no frowns on faces or even looks of exhaustion. The people attend a late-night meeting after a day of fighting and cleaning and are full of mirth. Their excited chatter fills the academy with stories and plans for the future. "A fire has been lit. Captain and the others were only giving it air to breathe. Now, I pity the fool who tries to extinguish this flame.
A hushed silence overcomes the room. On the opposite side of the room, a bone platform raises Gene five feet in the air. The shadow shaman stands above all else. All eyes are on her.
"Oh, my," whispers Azura. The sorcerer stands on her tiptoes and leans forward, using her chair as support. Her eyes sparkle with excitement, and she holds a hand to cover her open smile. "What a marvelous creation!" Her golden eyes narrow. I can feel the heat of her intense gaze. I'm glad I'm not her subject.
"Nice dress," says Rurick, focusing most of his attention on the spider beside him.
"A dress? This is no mere dress. That is a fortress of elegance. Patterned plating on the sleeves and bodice, a deep neckline, a high slit showing the right amount of leg, and a flowing train harnessing the essence of shadow." I try to catch all the details Azura lists off. The dress looks like it's made for a fancy party where the dancing is a melee. It's pretty, protective, and black.
"We simply must have one," says Silva, still lounging in her chair. Her eyes and smile are as equally bright as Azura's.
"One?" Asks Azura. "We need at least two or three."
"Three is a safe number. I will seek out the Starweavers right after the meeting. I want to know what June and Claude think." The two continue to pick out details of the black dress that I just can't see in an excited whisper until Gene lifts her head. Azura and Sylva give their full attention to the queen, no longer daring to disturb the stillness that’s claimed the entire guild hall.