Chapter 9
4th Day, Upper Wind Month, 1 CE
Come here, you little…
A wisp of negative energy smugly swirled away as Ludmila followed it across the E-Rantel Cemetery. She was wearing the magic cowl that enhanced her stealth and perception, so she was fairly certain that no one would notice the crazy woman stalking back and forth between the gnarled trees and weathered memorials. Negative energy, however, did not appear to respect her concealment.
The realisation that she had been absorbing negative energy during General Ray’s expeditionary excursion continued to bother her long after the fact. She kept an eye out for visible traces that she could experiment with throughout her return journey, but accumulations so great that they were ‘visible’ to her were relatively rare outside of places like cemeteries and battlegrounds. Ludmila had nearly forgotten to check with the preparations to return to Warden’s Vale, rushing out for a last-minute investigation as her household prepared a final few things before departure.
As far as she could guess, she could only absorb the negative energy that she was ‘responsible’ for – either through her territorial duties, direct actions or the actions of those under her authority. She could hardly run around slaughtering people to check, so confirmation would have to wait. Given her portion of the task that awaited them in the Draconic Kingdom, there would be ample opportunity soon enough.
Giving up her chase of the insolent wisp of negative energy, Ludmila ceased concealing her presence and made her way to the cemetery gate.
“Baroness Zahradnik,” a voice drifted through the morning mist from the other side, “I feel that I have been encountering you in the cemetery far too often.”
Across the gate stood Themis and Alessia. They were attired for their routine duties in the city morgue, which meant that they were fully equipped for battle. Ludmila supposed that going early in the morning to investigate her negative energy-related abilities meant that she stood a good chance of running into them on a shift change.
“Vicar Aspasia,” Ludmila smiled politely. “Sister Alessia. I hope the morning finds you well.”
“My lady, are you dodging my comment?” Themis peered at her, “I have heard some strange stories from Sister Alessia about adherents of our merciful lord getting a bit too interested in the…dead side of things. In your case…”
“Just so you know, Vicar, I have absolutely no interest in corpses or Zombies or the like. Sister Alessia shared some of those stories from the Theocracy with me too and I think that they are disturbing, to say the least.”
Clara had been on a pilgrimage to the Divine Capital of the Slane Theocracy, but she never mentioned anything of what Alessia’s stories had contained. Ludmila was vaguely aware of the escalated zealotry in their southern neighbour, but Alessia’s tales were just bizarre. From all the things that she told Ludmila about, one might think that Paladins of Surshana spent more time chasing adherents of Surshana around than anything else.
While undoubtedly the most advanced, well-developed and powerful Human nation in the region, the Theocracy was still limited economically by the fact that labour revolved around the work of men and animals. These economic limitations meant that limitations to social infrastructure were also present.
Education was superior to the Empire, but the Theocracy could still only afford a very basic practical education to its citizens. Religious education was an ongoing effort facilitated by the Temples during sermons and consultations. Since the effectiveness of this post-primary education was dependent on whether people paid attention or not, it could lead to some dubious beliefs and practices.
At least some degree of ‘folk knowledge’ was pervasive throughout the Slane Theocracy. This was exacerbated by the zealotry of the citizens, which made for some alarming results.
For instance, many in the Theocracy believed that summoned Angels were messengers of the gods. This was no more true than summoned Demons being real Demons or summoned Undead being the same as naturally-manifested Undead – which many in the Theocracy believed, too – but the belief was continually reinforced by the passing around of this ‘folk knowledge’ and next to impossible to uproot.
Upon hearing this, Themis voiced a desire to go on a trip to the Theocracy border. There, she would summon an Angel over one of the villages to see what would happen. Ludmila, however, threatened to have a Death Knight follow her around for the rest of her life if she didn’t swear that she wouldn’t do that.
“It is probably not that bad,” Themis said. “Sister Alessia just loves talking about the most outrageous things that she has seen.”
Ludmila’s gaze shifted over to the Paladin in question, then frowned slightly at her uncharacteristically listless expression.
“Did something happen?” Ludmila asked.
“She, uh, got into something like a fight,” Themis answered.
“She helps with Adventurer combat training,” Ludmila said. “She always gets into ‘something like a fight’.”
They both looked at Alessia, who only sighed.
“Actually,” Themis said, “tell me what you think about this. If Sister Alessia always dropped off her equipment for maintenance with a local Armoursmith, how would you feel about that?”
“That sounds perfectly normal to me,” Ludmila replied. “There must be something more to that…”
“I meant any maintenance, my lady. Not just repairs, but cleaning, polishing – minor things.”
“I do that as well,” Ludmila said. “Though I do not have daily opportunities to do so. There is always an apprentice that could use the work.”
“Exactly!” Alessia suddenly shouted, “Why can those blockheads not understand that?! I have never before equated the heresy to actual stupidity, but now I think that it is all that it is.”
Ludmila stared as the young Paladin fumed. Themis put an arm over Alessia’s shoulder, giving her a half-hug.
“I do not see how this becomes a fight over equipment maintenance,” Ludmila said.
“Well, some of the other Adventurers told her she was wasting money.”
“Oh…”
That was bad. That was very bad.
“What did Sister Alessia say?”
“Sister Alessia said nothing,” Sister Alessia sniffed. “But they keep saying it! They always suggest that I should do it myself if I wanted it so much, but that is not the point! I am not a thief! After two months of it happening every day, I…well, at least Sister Alessia did not kill that filthy heretic.”
Two months was surprising considering Alessia’s generally low tolerance for things that she found foolish. Ludmila crossed her arms, looking up into the morning gloom.
Like many followers of The Six in the Sorcerous Kingdom, Alessia privately believed that the Sorcerer King was Surshana. Since the Adventurer Guild was a government agency and the head of the government was the Sorcerer King, telling Alessia – an Adventurer and thus an employee of the Sorcerer King – that she was wasting money was essentially telling her that she was wasting or embezzling her god’s money. This was an utterly horrific assertion and Ludmila wasn’t certain how she would have reacted in Alessia’s place.
This wasn’t the only barb, however. Followers of The Six were not only encouraged to focus on their vocations, but it was an inherently generous faith. Alessia was in the enviable position of having a set of good magic equipment and she also earned a significant amount as an Orichalcum-rank Adventurer. By going every day to have her armour serviced, she was helping an apprentice grow in their craft and support their livelihoods.
In all, saying that Alessia was ‘wasting money’ was tantamount to accusing her of not only misappropriating her god’s money, but also turned her acts of charity into acts of selfish indulgence. Furthermore, they told her to go against the tenets of her faith not only by depriving apprentices of vocational experience, but telling her to maintain her own armour when ready alternatives were available.
That ‘Sister Alessia did not kill that filthy heretic’ after two months of extraordinarily hurtful insults and layers of blasphemy was a testament to how much patience the young Paladin had.
“What happened after that?” Ludmila asked, “Did the Guildmaster say anything?”
“She was told to ‘take a break’,” Themis answered. “I could not leave her alone so I took a break too.”
“Took a break…to perform morgue duties.”
“Not quite, my lady,” the Vicar looked away slightly. “The other Clerics of Surshana have Paladins to escort them now so we are rotating duties. We sort of wandered over here to see if we could find some Skeletons to bash.”
Ludmila looked at Sister Alessia again. Maybe some time in less hostile lands would pick her up.
“What about the Katze Plains?” Ludmila suggested, “They have formed those new exercise areas there…or you could come to Warden’s Vale.”
Alessia looked up at her.
“Eh? Really? We can go to your place, domina?”
“I suppose that depends on how long this ‘break’ is.”
“Guildmaster Ainzach did not say,” Alessia said. “We should go while we have the chance.”
“We can perform some services there, too,” Themis said.
Ludmila looked over at her.
“Eh? Really?”
“That sounds really strange coming from you, my lady,” Themis smirked. “But why not? I am your Cleric and Bishop Austine would not likely retain us.”
“Then it is settled,” Ludmila smiled. “We have not had temple staff in Warden’s Vale since the annexation. The people will be ecstatic when they see you.”
Themis and Alessia went to pack their things and Ludmila returned to her manor. A carriage was already loaded for the journey and Aemilia stood in front of the gate between the two Death Knights looking out for her return.
“Luzi,” Ludmila said, “there’s been a slight change of plans.”
“What might that be, my lady?”
“Two guests will be coming along with us,” Ludmila replied. “We’ll pick them up at the main plaza on the way out.”
“Yes, my lady,” Aemilia bobbed her head. “Should I send ahead to have accommodations prepared?”
“One of the empty homes near us in the village square should do.”
Aemilia went into the manor to deliver a message to Warden’s Vale. Five minutes later, they were on the way out of the central district, arriving in the main plaza as the morning markets were beginning to pick up. They stopped near the cathedral and Aemilia stared as the right door opened and she saw who the ‘guests’ were.
“Oh?” Alessia said, “Miss Luzi is here too. I often forget that she is the domina’s Maid.”
“I suppose you do see her more often as an Acolyte,” Ludmila said. “What did His Excellency the Bishop say about your trip?”
“He said ‘hah?’” Alessia replied, “I left before the rest.”
“He was fine with it,” Themis rolled her eyes, “Everything is taken care of. I heard it was over a day by ship so it seems like quite the Adventure.”
Themis had been in the vicinity of Warden’s Vale so Ludmila wasn’t sure why she would consider it an ‘Adventure’. The training expeditions for the Adventurer Guild were held in the forests around her territory.
“That will change starting today,” Ludmila said. “New ships are operating on the Katze River. We will be taking the first voyage there.”
“I did not know it was such a special occasion,” Themis shifted in her seat and straightened her vestments. “I hope this is not an imposition…”
“Not at all,” Ludmila replied. “The ships are rather large so we can all fit.”
The wagon slowed as they entered the morning queue to depart the city. Aemilia fidgeted quietly beside Ludmila.
“Is something the matter, Luzi?”
“Ah, no…maybe? I almost feel that I should not be sitting in the same carriage…”
“Nonsense,” Ludmila said. “You are my Lady’s Maid. If I am working in a civilian setting, you should be right there with me. Besides, Themis is being attended to by Alessia – I am being attended by you. That seems right, does it not?”
“If you put it that way…yes, my lady. I apologise for saying something so strange.”
Themis and Alessia stared quietly at Aemilia. She started fidgeting again. Ludmila frowned at them.
“Why are you staring at Luzi like that?”
“It never ceases to amaze me how she transforms,” Themis said. “She becomes an entirely different person from the one we see attending classes.”
“Oh?” Ludmila raised an eyebrow, “What is she like?”
“Fervent,” Alessia said.
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“S-sister Alessia!” Aemilia protested.
Now she was curious. With Aemilia devoting so much of her time to both her duties and her studies, Ludmila thought it best to give her some space and not pry into her affairs.
“What do you mean by ‘fervent’?”
“Hmm, how do you say…just very ‘bam’, domina.”
“‘Bam’?”
“What she means to say, my lady,” Themis explained, “is that Miss Luzi has plenty of zeal for everything. She is especially lively when she talks about you.”
Aemilia hid her face in her hands. Ludmila was divided between leaving the matter be and pushing to find out more.
“Does that make her a good student?” She asked.
“I guess it does,” Themis answered. “She might be the only one that manages to stay awake through Brother Werel’s lectures. I could not last ten minutes against those.”
Now that they were on the topic of Aemilia’s studies, Ludmila recalled a number of questions that had gone unanswered since her Lady’s Maid started training as an Acolyte.
“Have you had Maids train to be divine casters before?” She asked.
“Not at all,” Themis answered. “The reason why she wanted to become an Acolyte seemed reasonable enough, so we thought it would not hurt to try. She wanted to learn divine magic to become a better Maid…with several of His Majesty’s Maids being powerful casters, it seems like a given now but back then it did sound a bit strange.”
“So back then you did not think it went against the Scriptures?”
“At a cursory glance it does,” the Vicar said. “We are used to Maids performing a certain range of duties and those expectations can end up dictating our views as to what is proper and pious conduct. But these expectations are ultimately our expectations and not those of the gods. The Scriptures do have examples of proper practices in production-type vocations, but a Maid is not a production-type vocation.”
“They can cook and mend,” Ludmila noted.
“Ah, but that is something everyone can do,” Themis replied. “To an extent…and that extent is tangible. The products of true artisans are of distinctly higher quality than those produced through…mundane effort, so to speak. A Maid is a service vocation that essentially carries out a variety of mundane tasks for Noble households. They do require the training appropriate to their position and that of the Nobles who they serve, but they also exhibit no special Skills or Abilities as other vocations do.”
Themis did have a point about that. While they could be suspiciously astute about certain things and could seemingly detect work, her investigations on the ‘Maid Job Class’ and its capabilities identified nothing that could be considered an Ability or a Skill. Maids – and their manservant equivalents – above a certain rank in a household were usually Nobles anyway.
“Which brings us to the question,” Themis continued, raising a finger, “what is the essence of being a ‘Maid’? Society has formed perceptions of what a ‘Maid’ is, but even those perceptions differ. To commoners, a Maid is seen as one who performs menial labour for Noble households and most commoner Maids had similar working conditions. They become scullery maids, laundresses, still room maids and other types of between staff. To Nobles, a Maid is a position of honour and prestige. Those who secure positions as senior household staff in a highlord’s household have more de facto power and influence than most regular Nobles. Some might also say that members of a household’s senior staff are effectively ‘officers’ of a Noble’s retinue.”
“I have given some consideration to those lines of thought over the last year,” Ludmila nodded. “But if we are to reconstruct what it means to be a Maid or a Footman, how would it work? Does it mean that they should be able to develop Skills and Abilities as other vocations do? Where do the boundaries lie between a household servant and other vocations?”
“Rather than imagining hard boundaries that separate vocations from one another,” the Vicar said, “I believe it is more accurate to say that a vocation is an ‘idea’. It is the idea that encompasses what the vocation entails, and those ideas may cause some vocations to overlap in some areas with others. This might not happen too often out in the territories, but, as a member of the city’s clergy, Our faithful often request consultation about whether they are doing the right thing or not.”
With its many disparate vocations, a city would indeed have many of the ‘overlaps’ that Themis spoke of. An Armoursmith, Blacksmith, Jeweller and Weaponsmith all performed similar tasks in pursuit of their craft. So too did Leatherworkers and Tailors, or the various woodworking professions. The recent incident with Alessia showed overlaps between ‘combat’ and ‘artisan’ vocations as well: a Fighter or a Paladin could perform basic maintenance of their equipment but that basic maintenance was also performed by artisans of the relevant craft.
This overlap also caused confusion when people from certain backgrounds filled certain roles. Their current focus of ‘Maids’ was an excellent example of this: they overlapped with something in essentially everything that they did. Common Maids in junior positions performed menial labour that anyone could perform. The difference was that these commoners were required to possess a bare minimum of training and knowledge in aristocratic affairs.
Noblewomen who entered a household as a Maid employed their aristocratic education, but their ‘Maid’ education was in the exact opposite direction of a commoner’s Maid education: everything that they learned had to do with what commoners considered ‘common sense’ when it came to menial labour and personal relations. Additionally, there were things that Maids did that artisans also did, such as cooking and a certain degree of tailoring that came with household chores.
Combined with Ludmila’s knowledge of Job Classes – or what Themis termed an ‘idea’ – this created a rather broad picture as to what the ‘Maid’ Job Class could do. What was a part of it? What wasn’t? A few things could be confidently crossed off the list, but most couldn’t.
Nobles were in a similar situation, possessing a broad skillset that allowed them to fill many positions. Many of these skills were not everyday skills, however. A Noble had substantial diplomatic knowledge and skill – if they became a diplomatic official, did they continue to gain Job Class Levels as a Noble, or as a ‘Diplomat’? Would a Noble employing their administrative skills as a bureaucrat grow as a Noble or as a ‘Bureaucrat’? If a martial Noble became an officer in the Army, did they grow as a ‘martial Noble’ or gain Captain and Commander Job Class Levels?
Was there a limit to the number of Job Class Levels one could have in a specific Job Class? If so, where did all the excess ‘experience’ go?
This was less of a question than the preceding musings, however. According to the ongoing investigations by the Adventurer Guild and the central bureaucracy, the ‘limit’ for the average citizen was somewhere around Level 15, with individuals becoming rarer the further one drifted from that point. As such, making the most of what one had was of more immediate importance to the citizens of the Sorcerous Kingdom.
“So you mean to say that the ‘idea’ behind a vocation is the best indicator of whether one is doing the right thing or not?”
“I do,” Themis nodded. “I believe this is the reason why our Scriptures tend to only provide loose examples to illustrate how guidelines are observed. Using absolute examples would stifle the development of the faithful, preventing us from realising the full potential of our place in life.”
“I see…then how do you reconcile Aemilia’s decision to become an Acolyte? His Majesty having highly-specialised Maids serves as evidence that such paths can be viable, but how do we frame things in a more technical sense that can be applied to personal development?”
Grasping how Job Classes were framed was not only key to personal development, but demesne development as well. Her current processes generally revolved around facilitating the growth of her employees and tenants by providing what they needed not just to survive off of their contracts, but to thrive. People had the discretionary income to enjoy a more-than-comfortable standard of living, which included their entertainment expenses and the pursuit of personal projects.
Followers of The Six tended to pursue vocational development as a hobby when resources were available, so it was Ludmila’s hope that her policies would lead to breakthroughs in Job Class development. Those breakthroughs would be added to her expanding library of knowledge and incorporated into vocational education.
So far, this library consisted of existing knowledge codified into a form that framed everything into the concept of Job Class Levels. Breakthroughs were likely slow in the making: she had no expectation of anything happening in less than a year, at any rate.
“Aemilia has actually been instrumental when it comes to exploring that question,” Themis smiled at the Maid. “Some of my thoughts on her development are a bit unconventional, but the fact that I can reasonably arrive at certain conclusions is remarkable in itself.”
The carriage finally passed through the southern gate of E-Rantel, passing between the two towering statues of the Sorcerer King. Their progress accelerated for but a brief moment before reaching the tail of a long line of wagons. Ludmila opened the window and peeked ahead: it appeared that traffic was stuck following behind a Merchant caravan from the Empire, which still employed draft animals. The rest of the road was filled with wagons waiting to get into the gate, so they were good and stuck until they could pass the caravan ahead.
Ludmila closed the window and sat back down, shaking her head. Traffic regulations were an ongoing challenge in the Sorcerous Kingdom. Even after expanding the highway, some people thought that an open lane on the road was free for anyone to use. For every Merchant informed of the new laws, another one arrived who was ignorant of them or thought that regulations were for ‘other people’. E-Rantel’s municipal government was more than happy to extract fines from offenders, so, hopefully, the problem would mostly vanish at some point.
“You would think that traffic regulations being enforced by Elder Liches would be deterrent enough,” Ludmila muttered. “You were saying, Vicar Aspasia?”
“Um…oh. Miss Luzi is very ‘Maid’ in her approach to magic, my lady. The spells that she learns are not the same spells that the Acolytes training to be Clerics and Priests learn. Not in the sense that they can’t learn them, but the ‘theme’ that they follow.”
“With ‘Maid’ being the ‘theme’.”
“Just so,” Themis nodded. “She focuses on the spells that one might think a Maid would learn if they had magic. Clean might be the first thing that comes to mind, but there are entire processes incorporated into her learning. To draw a bath for their mistress, a regular Maid will prepare a fire, retrieve water, heat the water while tending to the fire and then add it to a bathtub. They will repeat the process for as long as necessary. After their mistress is done, they have to carry the used water back out to dispose of.
“Aemilia, on the other hand, casts Create Water to fill the tub, Temperature Change to alter it to a suitable temperature, then Destruction Water to dispose of it. She has converted the task of drawing a bath from a mundane process to a magical one.”
“But it was my instructors that taught me each spell, Vicar Aspasia,” Aemilia said. “And they know the ‘process’ themselves. I am not doing anything new.”
Themis nodded, smoothly rendering a reply as if expecting the Lady’s Maid to say as much.
“This may seem like a strange distinction,” the Vicar said, “but knowing is not the same as doing. The broad thematic elements behind what you cast and why are also fundamentally different from that of other Acolytes. Most Acolytes manage their mana as members of the Temple Staff and continue this style of mana management into their professional careers. All of the nuances behind Miss Luzi’s progress and intent lead me to suspect that she is not an Acolyte at all.”
Ludmila furrowed her brow at Themis’ postulation. As far as she knew, those who went to train as Acolytes either succeeded at becoming one or – as was in Ludmila’s case – did not. She had never heard of anything that suggested that they might become something else entirely.
“Could you expand on your suspicions, Vicar Aspasia?” Ludmila asked, “Luzi is a faithful follower of The Six. Why would she not become an Acolyte?”
“I am not implying that she is some sort of infidel,” Themis answered. “Miss Luzi is as faithful as they come for common urbanites. It goes back to what Sister Alessia said about her just now.”
“The ‘bam’?”
“The ‘bam’,” Themis nodded. “You see, there are four broad categories of Tier Magic. Divine Magic is the practice of magic through personal faith or belief in something greater than oneself. Clerics and Priests, for instance, either believe in divine beings or philosophical paths. Those from the far south who follow the Buddha do not worship a being known as the Buddha, but instead follow the ‘path of enlightenment’ and derive their ability to cast divine magic through its observance.”
She thought she might see such followers of the Buddha – who referred to themselves as ‘monks’ – in the Empire, but had no luck. They reportedly had a strange mode of dress, as well.
“Other types of divine casters include Druids – who draw from the power of nature – and those we might call Shamans or Spiritualists, who derive power from ancestor worship, nature spirits and animal totems. We have had plenty of interactions with them with all the Demihumans coming into the city and they all appear to be Druids, yet they make a specific distinction between those vocations. Learning why is an ongoing study, but it still carries the notion that ‘ideas’ or ‘themes’ are central to their establishment.”
Most of the divine casters in the Sorcerous Kingdom were such individuals, so Ludmila was familiar enough with them.
“Arcane magic is cast through structure and force of will,” Themis continued. “Wizards and Sorcerers are examples of this. Sometimes people think them more studious or academic than practitioners of other categories of magic, but that is an erroneous perception rooted in the Empire’s institutions. The Theocracy’s institutions are just as ‘academic’ and mostly focus on divine magic.
“The third broad category is the ‘spiritual’ magic, which is not to be confused with the Shaman and Spiritualists who are divine casters. Geomancers, Talismancers, Yin-Yang and Five Element practitioners are some of the examples that you might know. They are highly ritualistic, but their ritualisation of magic is to the degree that it can be conducted quickly by a single person or even crafted onto tokens much like how we can create scrolls for later use.”
Ludmila had no idea about any of that. At best she had only heard of the things described in passing. Since it was so rare as to be unheard of in the region, the focus of her studies went to other categories of magic.
“The final category of Tier Magic has no official name,” Themis said, “as it is more to encompass what is left over. This is where I believe Aemilia’s magic casting is founded. You see, despite being associated with religion, Paladins also fall into this category. The foundation of a Paladin’s magic is not faith, but service. These are loosely seen as ‘oaths’ and can be in service to various things. One might swear to be a defender of the faith, as Alessia has. One could also swear an oath of poverty, conquest, vengeance, allegiance or countless other things.”
“Like those insane heretics who swear oaths of chastity,” Alessia muttered.
“Like that,” Themis shuddered. “The point is that service is the root of power for Paladins. To turn from that service is to fall and lose their powers. In Aemilia’s case, she is not driven to become a spellcaster because of her faith, but because of her desire to serve her mistress.”
“So you’re saying that rather than being an Acolyte,” Ludmila said, “Aemilia is a Squire?”
Themis leaned back in her seat, raising her hands in a shrug.
“Squires cannot cast magic until they are ordained as Paladins, though they can use magic items to cast. She also cannot rightly be called an Acolyte. Aemilia is something else, which is quite exciting. Discoveries like this are rare.”
“So Aemilia is ‘something’ that is different from Acolytes and Squires…but what can that ‘something’ do?”
“That is something that we have to investigate,” Themis said. “If she is indeed her own sort of ‘apprentice’ type, the only thing we have to go on is the ‘idea’ of a Maid that can cast magic. Most of it revolves around a universal discipline of magic called ‘Lifestyle Magic’. Communication, temperature control, conjuring food, water, paper and spices, cleaning and maintaining things…on that note, there was something we noticed about her spells – Aemilia, when you cast Summon Spices, how much do you conjure?”
“One hundred ten grams.”
Themis gave Ludmila a pointed look. Ludmila nodded: Summon Spices produced one hundred grams of spices in a single cast. To produce more…
“Does that mean she has some sort of conjuration specialisation?” Ludmila asked.
“Not quite,” Themis answered. “Her Clean and Change Temperature spells also cover a wider area or otherwise do more relative to our other Acolytes casting them. She appears to have a Lifestyle Magic specialisation.”
“That’s very…Maid?”
“See what I mean?” Themis smirked, “When you think about things that way, the world makes a lot more sense than with the narrow definitions that we tend to use.”
In her own way, Themis was speaking of Class Levels. As far as Ludmila knew, no one had shared the knowledge of their existence with the Vicar – she had come up with a loose theory based on her experiences and observations as a Cleric, as well as her analysis of their religious doctrines. A part of Ludmila preferred Themis’ more ‘natural’ interpretation, which was strangely in line with how Ilyshn’ish saw the world. Rather than observing boundaries, they explored possibilities.
A danger existed in doing so, however: one that led to irrevocable harm. It was entirely possible that the ‘idea’ one had was wrong and they ended up with build contamination. As attractive as pursuing a world of limitless possibilities was, she could not do so recklessly and risk hurting others.
“So Miss Luzi is potentially not an Acolyte,” Alessia mused, “nor is she a Squire. What would she be called?”
Male scions of aristocratic houses sometimes apprenticed under other houses as Pages, exchanging labour for education and practical experience. Common boys similarly apprenticed in aristocratic households as Knaves. When their education was complete, they could become Footmen, Butlers or other respected positions of service and stewardship. Male scions could return to their houses to assume duties there.
There was, however, no equivalent for women. They were all simply different types of Maids holding different ranks in a Noble household.
“That is the most exciting part,” Themis grinned. “She is probably a Maid.”
“I do not think there was anything funny in your breakfast…”
“I mean it!” The Vicar dug her elbow into her attendant’s armoured side, “Look at it this way: a Squire or Acolyte is essentially an apprentice with immature or undeveloped abilities compared to their master. A Maid is similar in the sense that they are mostly mundane in their vocation – immature or undeveloped, if you will.”
“But a Maid does not become anything more than a higher-ranked Maid,” Ludmila noted. “Unless they accept an engagement or return to their families for various reasons.”
“That is correct, but you are missing one important thing: the master is always first a novice. Remember that we only attach labels to these vocations: they exist whether we name them or not. Some Demihuman countries on the other side of the world might call them something else entirely. Just as a Squire is what it is regardless of what we call it, so too does this apply to everything else. If we consider it that way, it may be that the ‘Maid’ we are familiar with is the ‘apprentice’ and the true ‘master’ – a fully-fledged ‘Maid’ that is as different as Squires and Acolytes are to Paladins and Clerics – already exists, but is not yet recognised as such.”
Themis’ excited breathing filled the carriage as she came to her conclusion. Ludmila exchanged looks with Aemilia. The Sorcerer King already had all manner of magic-casting Maids, so why not?