Fortress Al-Mir

As it turned out, the garrison and the academy were fairly close to one another. Both were built into the mainland mountain that shadowed Cliff. Both even had similar architecture on the exterior, that being miniature keep-like structures that extended out from the sheer face of the mountain. The difference was that one kept a contingent of guards standing around its entrances.

Adjusting the odd jacket of his dark suit, Arkk stood in the middle of a small line. He had dressed up, deciding to make use of the fancier clothes that he had. Maybe it was because a lesser servant had been the tailor or maybe it was just the style of the suit, but he didn’t quite feel like it fit. The shoulders felt too tight and it rubbed against his neck.

“Name and business,” a guard behind a wire mesh window asked as Arkk stepped up.

Keeping his back straight and his expression as serious as he could manage, Arkk introduced himself. “Arkk. I’m here to inquire about mercenary work.”

The guard’s eyes looked up from a tablet of vellum and roved over Arkk. Unlike the previous times he had mentioned looking for mercenary work, the guard did not laugh or make any snide comments. He simply looked back to his vellum and nodded. “Are you making specific inquiries, posting work, or looking for work?”

“The latter, please.”

“Open bounties, recruitment notices, and other matters of interest for routiers are posted on the southern wall of the garrison, just to your left.”

“Oh. Thank you,” Arkk said, stepping out of line.

Following the guard’s directions, he found a large board up against the stone wall, shielded from the elements by a heavy awning overhead. Rows of paper, each stamped with an official-looking seal covered the board. There were a wide variety of jobs on the board. Some were mundane and offered low rewards, such as gathering certain herbs and roots from a forest or assisting villages that had a shortage of labor. Arkk dismissed those entirely for the moment; his orcs had already tried the latter option and he had no desire to further encourage a riot.

Others were a bit more interesting. A merchant wanted an armed escort for traveling between a few burgs that Arkk didn’t recognize. Another person wanted escorts to guard an expedition to some ancient temple. Someone had lost a daughter, as in physically could not find her, and was wanting to hire trackers and others who specialized in finding people. For a moment, that one sounded like a job he could do right now if the daughter had left behind hair or something else he could use, but the longer he thought about it, the more an unpleasant feeling swam through his gut.

He forced himself to stop thinking about the tracking spell before he threw up.

The two most rewarding jobs were by far the most interesting. The first was a request to gather samples of blighted fungus for study. Arkk still didn’t know what that was, though maybe it was time to start asking around. Judging by the amount offered for the job, it must have been dangerous stuff. The other job, only slightly more rewarding, was a request to clear out a mine that had been overrun with gorgon.

Arkk didn’t know exactly what a gorgon was. The name sounded familiar. Thinking back, he thought he heard about it from some mercenaries in his childhood. One of the groups that passed through Langleey with stories to tell. Nothing specific jumped out at him from those memories, however. He reached out, lifting the paper in the hopes of finding more details underneath, but before he could, a rough hand landed on his shoulder.

“Wouldn’t pick that one, mate.”

Jolting, not having been paying attention to those around him, Arkk turned to find a man with a flat face and a pointed nose giving him a serious look.

“Nasty beasts, gorgons. Their coils can crush steel, their venom melts flesh from bone, and if that wasn’t bad enough, they’re known to turn men to stone. Wouldn’t take that job if it were offering ten times the amount.”

“Men to stone?” Arkk said. That… sounded familiar. The mercenary group he had been thinking of might have abandoned the job in fear of two gorgon. “What about women?”

After staring at him for a moment, the man let out a loud laugh and clapped Arkk on the shoulder. “Good one,” he said at the end of his laugh. Taking his hand from Arkk’s shoulder, he held it out. “Name’s Hawkwood. Friends call me Hawk. White Company senior commander.”

“Arkk,” Arkk said, taking the man’s hand. Hawkwood’s attire was simplistic. Just a tunic with a leather jacket. A shield pin with a black chevron adorned his breast pocket. “You’re a mercenary company?”

“White Company is. I’m just a man. Don’t recognize you though.”

“You know everyone?”

Hawkwood shook his head. “Just everyone in the mercenary business. So, imagine my surprise when a dusty farmboy shows up reaching for the most dangerous job on the board. Wouldn’t the herbs be more your speed?”

“Farmboy? Dusty?” Arkk glanced down at his suit. He had taken care to keep it clean on the journey and that hadn’t changed in the last few hours since he put it on.

“You’ve got the clothes, but you don’t wear them like you belong. Your hands are calloused and not in the way a soldier’s would be. The back of your neck is heavily tanned, even more than your face, meaning you spend a lot of time looking down at the ground. Your hair is dry and unkempt. Anyone wearing clothes like that would grease their hair down every morning. There’s—”

“Alright, alright,” Arkk said, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand and brushing his fingers through his hair with the other. “So the clothes are useless?” Vezta was going to be disappointed.

“You might fool some people, but not me,” Hawkwood said with a grin. “So, what’s the story?”

Arkk sighed. “Just trying to figure out how all this works. I wasn’t going to take the job. Probably.”

“Probably?”

“Some very strange things happened recently and now I find myself with twenty-something orcs following my lead.” Hawkwood’s eyebrows crept up his forehead and he started looking around, making Arkk shake his head. “They aren’t here. I just wanted to find something for them to do so they don’t tear each other apart.”

“Did you want to get them killed?”

“No! Of course not.”

“Then skip over that job. Demihumans aren’t immune to gorgons either.”

Arkk wondered if Vezta might be immune. She had said that she survived a lot of things over the years. Then again, she hadn’t been positive that she would survive the orc chieftain’s magic.

“At least you’re seeing sense,” Hawkwood said, reading his face. “Well? What’s the story with the orcs?”

“A long one.”

“Tell you what, you tell me the story and I’ll show you the ropes. Get you putting those orcs to work. I’ll even throw in a meal.”

Arkk wasn’t sure he liked how Hawkwood phrased that, but it didn’t sound like the worst deal. At least not so long as he edited the story a bit. Those inquisitors had already been asking about Vezta. He didn’t need even more people talking about her or Fortress Al-Mir.

“Farm work?” Hawkwood’s fist hit the table as he laughed. “You made a bunch of warriors do farm work? I’m surprised they didn’t take your head for suggesting that!”

“It certainly didn’t win me any points with them,” Arkk said with a faint smile, skewering another slice of fish. Maybe he was just used to the river fish from around Langleey, but he wasn’t sure he liked oceanic fish much. It was the largest food industry in Cliff, so he supposed he would just have to get used to it. “Although, while we were farming, we got interrupted… Can you tell me anything about inquisitors?”

Hawkwood’s lingering chuckles died in an instant. He sobered up, snapping his gaze around the patio where they had gotten their meal from the vendor. Unlike the Primrose, however, it didn’t look like too many people were paying attention to their conversation.

“No good business comes from inquisitors,” Hawkwood said, all humor gone from his voice. “Inquisitors showed up while you were farming with the orcs?”

Arkk nodded. “They asked me a number of questions about the demon summoning. I told them basically what I just told you. Then… they asked about stars.” It was a bit of a risk to mention that, but at the same time, Arkk wondered if the more experienced mercenary might have some information. “Had no clue what they were talking about,” he added with a shrug.

Unfortunately, Hawkwood didn’t react to Arkk mentioning stars. “If they weren’t interested in demons, it was probably that magic you were throwing around. The church hates spellcasters that didn’t go to their approved academies. The orcs you sent to the burg talked, something about the way they described the magic made someone else call up the church.”

“Me? Not the magic the summoner was using?”

Hawkwood shrugged. “They hounded you, right?”

“Yes,” Arkk lied. They had been there for Vezta, not him. But he had already dropped the hint about stars. No need to say anything else.

“There you have it. I’d go get checked out at the academy, but if the inquisitors left without clapping your wrists in irons, you’re probably fine.”

Arkk stretched, then stood. “I was actually planning on stopping over there after the garrison,” he said. “Thanks for telling me about mercenary work.”

“No problem. It isn’t every day a new mercenary company pops up. Especially not one made up of demihumans.” Hawkwood stood as well, then held out his hand once more. “If you need any more help, stop on by the White Company building. It’s just down the road from the garrison. Can’t miss it.” He paused, then slowly nodded his head. “In fact, I have a contact who might appreciate you looking into a job that you and a bunch of orcs could do. Why not stop by in the morning?”

“Sounds good. I’ll bring my companions if that isn’t a problem.”

“The orcs?”

“One of them and then an elf.” Arkk frowned, looking the man in the eyes. “That isn’t a problem, is it?”

Hawkwood shook his head. “Not with me.”

“Good. See you then.”

With that end to their conversation, Arkk headed toward his second destination of the day. Helpful though Hawkwood had been, the mercenary work was just a diversion. Something that needed doing but not something he had been particularly interested in.

The magic academy was a passion.

Getting close to the Cliff academy sent tingles up his arms. Arkk honestly couldn’t tell if it was magic in the air or just his excitement, but by the time he walked through the wide-open gates and stepped into the academy foyer, he was positively vibrating.

And what a foyer it was. Carved straight into the mountainside, it almost felt like walking into the [HEART] chamber of Fortress Al-Mir. Except, instead of a floating magical artifact of unknown origin, there was a massive statue of a man in golden robes with one hand extended out as if welcoming people through the tall doors. His other hand held tight a thick scroll. Runes on the scroll glowed a brilliant gold that illuminated the entire statue.

The people walking about were scholarly types. Most wore clothes a lot like the suit Arkk had on, but he could tell just by looking at them that they had no muscle at all underneath. On average, at least. There were the odd ones that stood out. Hawkwood had been right about the hair, however. Every single person, man and woman, had styled, almost shining hair.

Pulling his collar up to hide the back of his neck, Arkk wandered through the halls, a bit disappointed when they turned out to be far more narrow and claustrophobic than the impressive foyer or even the corridors of Fortress Al-Mir. The lighting was poor as well. The academy didn’t use torches—something about Fortress Al-Mir made the soot and smoke vanish in a way that probably wouldn’t work here—but its glowstones weren’t half as strong as those used in certain rooms of the fortress.

He passed several rooms. Some looked like lecture halls. Others were obviously for practical magic usage. An alchemy station with bubbling alembics and glass tubes caught his attention for a moment but Arkk already had enough on his plate without learning a whole other discipline. Maybe another time.

Arkk stopped at an open door, spotting two people standing across from one another on a raised platform. Demonstrating something? Dueling? They had a small crowd watching. A crowd that Arkk found himself joining in, momentarily pausing his efforts to locate a library.

“—can block any energy-based spell with few exceptions. However, physical objects require a separate spell. As most outside these halls are not spellcasters, blocking physical objects is often more useful. The element is wind. The motion is a spinning sweep of your hands. The visualization is effectively a solid wall, but slightly more complicated. You may read my dissertation for more details. The incantation is hentikan semua benda yang masuk sebelum mencapai dagingku.” As soon as the woman on stage spoke the incantation, a haze enveloped her. A shimmer in the air, like fog, settled in, but only in a bubble around her person. Arkk couldn’t see through it clearly but her silhouette was there.

Turning away from the audience, the silhouette motioned.

On the other side of the stage, a tall man in a tall hat lifted a heavy wooden staff. With a motion from the staff, a dozen small rocks lifted from the ground in front of him. With another gesture, the rocks flew across the stage faster than arrows, but they didn’t make it through the haze around the woman. They sunk in, stopping rapidly, before going completely still. Most interestingly, they didn’t fall to the floor. Not until the woman canceled the spell and dispersed the haze.

“Unfortunately,” the woman said, “this spell is still in a prototype phase. While active, visibility is next to nothing. I’m working on that. Still, perhaps it will save your life. Commit it to memory.”

Arkk blinked a few times. The crowd around him nodded their heads, but all he could think was how. That spell, hentikan semua something something something was, first of all, far too long. Electro Deus was nice and snappy. Quick to speak, quick to cast, easy to remember. So was Slave Natum, for that matter. Her spell did look useful, visibility issue aside, but by the time he finished the incantation, he would wind up a pincushion of crossbow bolts and swords. The black book he stole from the summoner had similarly long spells in it. Flesh Weaving, which was twice as long as that, was the only one he had tried so far. It required such intense focus and concentration that using it on the battlefield would have been impossible anyway, making its long incantation not that big of an issue.

Unfortunately, Arkk didn’t get a chance to see more magic. That spell was the end of the demonstration. The others in the crowd meandered off toward the door, discussing the spell on the way. Some were calling it revolutionary, so it was apparently a big deal. Arkk… wondered if any of them had been in combat ever in their lives.

Arkk remained in place. The man with the staff used it to retrieve the stones, which he quickly pocketed. At the same time, the woman started cleaning up ritual circles on the ground that must have been used in earlier demonstrations.

“Excuse me?” Arkk said, approaching the stage. He had probably passed a dozen persons of authority in the hall on the way here, but he couldn’t tell the difference between a learner and a teacher by attire alone. This woman seemed close enough.

The woman looked up, violet eyes staring through the thin lenses of her glasses. Irritation flashed across her face before she put on a polite, if forced, smile. “Was there a question you had about my spell?”

“Ah. Yes?” Arkk almost asked about a library first but didn’t want to upset her by not asking about her revolutionary new spell. “You said this was a prototype? Is the incantation going to be shorter in the final version?”

“It is quite short already,” she said, looking surprised. “Twenty syllables.”

“It’s short?” Arkk asked, surprised as well. “Have you ever been in a fight before?”

The woman sneered, adjusting the long black cloak she wore open over a stylish bodice. “Do I look like some kind of ruffian to you?”

“No, but a spell that takes even a full second to cast seems a bit useless in actual combat.”

“Who are you?” she asked, adjusting her glasses. She swept her fingers through her jet-black hair as she finished. “You aren’t one of the church’s dullard initiates, nor are you a scholar. Explorer?”

Arkk wondered if she was basing her assumption on the color of his neck. “I’m self-taught. Just visiting today. But the spells—”

Understanding lit up in her eyes when he mentioned being a visitor. “You just need practice. A deft tongue makes for a deft spell,” she said as if quoting some source.

“But the other spells I know are all short. Each one is just two words.”

“Two…” She blinked a few times, started to laugh, but blinked once more as her eyes widened. “What kind of spells?”

“Well, a lightning bolt spell, a…” Arkk trailed off. The other two short spells he knew, Possession and Summon Lesser Servant were probably not the kinds of spells he should admit to knowing. The former for obvious reasons and the latter because servants were what had the inquisitors snooping about Langleey.

“Can you demonstrate?” the woman asked, not caring that he didn’t finish his explanation.

Arkk glanced around. From experience, he knew that the lightning spell didn’t like a lack of a real target. The room had cleared out during their brief discussion, letting him spot several chairs pressed up against one wall. Seeing nothing better, he pointed to one. “Is it alright if I destroy a chair?”

“Yes, hurry now.”

“Alright. Electro Deus,” Arkk said, pointing his hand toward the nearest chair. He pushed just a tiny sliver of magic into the spell. A bolt bridged the distance between him and the chair, slamming into it. It split in two, burning wood chips raining down around the larger seat and back pieces.

He looked back to the woman to find her mouth hanging open, her eyebrows up in her hairline, and her rectangular glasses sliding down the front of her nose.

“Miss?”

She blinked. Her jaw snapped closed. Reaching out, she snatched Arkk’s hand, twisting his arm to see his fingertips. Grabbing one finger, she wiggled it around while asking question after question. “No gesture? Or a thrusting gesture? What was the visualization? Element?”

“Uh—”

“Self-taught. Right. No preconceptions, allowing convention violations?” She clamped one hand under his jaw, yanking his head down to stare directly into Arkk’s eyes. Her face was close enough that their noses almost touched. “Open.”

“What?”

Her fingers pinched into his cheeks, forcing his mouth open. She stared into his open mouth until it got just a bit too uncomfortable for Arkk. He pulled back, knocking her hands aside when she tried to grab him again. She hardly seemed offended in the slightest, simply looking down at her hand for a moment before shrugging.

“No time like the present. Short Cast Experiment number one. Lightning bolt visualization, element… storm, obviously. Thrust gesture.” Thrusting a hand toward the next chair, she spoke the incantation. “Electro Deus.”

At first, nothing happened. The woman’s intense look of concentration didn’t waver. After a few more seconds, Arkk thought he saw something. It wasn’t a bolt of lightning, that was for sure, just a faint change in the lighting around her palm. If he hadn’t been focused on the woman’s hand, he would have missed it entirely.

He did not miss the woman collapsing into a heap on the stage in the very next instant.