On Cosmic Tides

The rest of the week was business as usual, no messages from the palace came to interrupt their routine. Word had spread, with more people showing up for healing each day. They would occasionally have gifts of food or other goods to give in exchange. Laurel would have declined these until Annette took her aside and explained that turning down a Meristan when they offered a gift was quite insulting. The mix of visitors was changing as well. Still plenty of street kids, but a few more well off individuals would come in as well. Usually while looking around like they were afraid to be seen, and trying to touch as little as possible.

Adam used his remaining contacts in the land administration bureau to research areas on the outskirts of the Flats where they might build a compound for themselves. There was little demand for the rocky land on the edges of the city. Or at least, no demand from anyone who could afford it.

“It’s just another way those fuckers up hill try and screw over the people in the Flats. Even if they scrape together enough to buy the land, can’t build anything without guild support, or at least the money for the Builder’s Guild to look the other way. Can’t get guild-affiliated builders without even more money, and they put pressure on anyone outside the guild that tries to do anything bigger than a house.”

Annette was in agreement, for once without a correction. “That’s why we’re joining as many guilds as we can. It looks terrible for a guild to try and block anything from one of their members. The other guilds can sniff out any internal schisms like vultures on a carcass. That’s actually how the Kitchen came into existence sixty years ago. Restaurants used to be classed the same as shops but the hours and training were so different, the restaurant owners and chefs were more and more frustrated with Small Mercantile Union. And they were part of the Merchant Guild until interests diverged too far. The Merchant Guild saw an opportunity to strike out at a rival and increase their own customer base and helped support an entirely new guild.”

“Does that happen often, new guilds? How do you keep track of what’s going on?” Laurel asked.

Adam grunted while Annette actually deigned to answer. “Not too often. It takes a lot of time and effort to create a new guild, you need people to join in, have to answer all legal challenges from other guilds.”

They lapsed back into their own work after that. Laurel privately thought it was all a lot more hassle than anyone really needed, but she kept that to herself. Criticism by a local was one thing, from a new arrival something entirely different. By the end of the week Adam had come up with several options. They were too close to the city for farming, they were too far from the industrial districts to build factories, and slumlords or government housing projects had not yet reached those areas. Annette similarly had a shortlist of trustworthy construction groups she had scouted out.

The anticipated summons arrived, inviting them this time to Fort Sarken. They once more donned their formal costumes and set out in a hired carriage. “Do you think the fort this time because they realized inviting a crazy lady with magic powers into the palace was dangerous?” Adam said once they were underway.

Laurel gave him a light shove. “Ha! Maybe. But hopefully it's based more on logistics than anything else. Seems a bit easier to come and go from the Fort. Fewer eyes.” At least it didn’t take quite so long for the carriage to get there. They chatted until they arrived at the fort and were forced to disembark for security reasons. “Serious faces on,” Laurel joked as they walked inside.

This time their guide was a young soldier. And instead of tense silence they were treated to a non-stop ramble about every bit and piece of the fort they passed by. He kept glancing over his shoulder at them and had to double-back at one point, having taken them down a wrong turn. He was bright red with embarrassment by the time they made it to the meeting room, and practically sprinted away once they reached for the door. The same council, including the king, were waiting for them once more, this time in an unremarkable conference room with no windows and a single map of the country along one wall.

They repeated the standard greetings, and several aides brought in food and tea. Laurel took this to be a good sign. In the traditions of her youth, food in meetings indicates an intent to work together, and she doubted the world had changed so much that this was no longer the case.

King Edward began. “We’ve debated and believe it is in our best interest to go along with the general outline of the plan you proposed in our last meeting. But we will need to clarify specific details. I can’t have a group of powerful people running around my country, with no way of policing them.”

“Very well,” Laurel replied. “Where shall we begin?” She grated at having to maneuver so carefully. They agreed on what needed to be done and now it was time to do it. At least Adam and Annette knew how to tiptoe around modern mortal feelings.

They launched into negotiations for everything, where the sect would be able to go, the kinds and quantities of the industries they would be involved in, the authority they would have amongst cultivators, what merchants they would be using, and a host of other topics. Annette showed she was worth ten times what they were paying her. Where Laurel would have accepted limits in what she was still struggling to view as anything but trivial mortal matters, Annette swooped in and pushed back, all without losing the serene smile on her face. By the end Madam Curson even looked impressed.

“I really think you’re underestimating the importance of what we’re doing here,” Laurel exclaimed at one point. “You need us. We could build a sect anywhere if we had to.”

Annette pounced to cut Laurel off before she could say anything else. “Of course we want to stay here. Verilia is our home, and provides a unique opportunity to push forward the boundaries of what is possible with magic in a modern city.”

The kick sent her way under the table bounced off, and Laurel barely felt it, but she got the message and stopped talking for a while, willing to accept whatever the others thought was fair.

They worked from around the 14th bell, through until midnight. They had paused briefly for dinner, but otherwise had been working the entire time. The mortals were fit to drop by the end, and even Madam Skycrest was no longer looking her best. Laurel’s own exhaustion was less physical and more along the lines of wanting to rip something apart after hours of debate over minute changes in wording.

“We will begin construction the day after tomorrow.” Laurel promised the council as they made ready to depart. “Madam Skycrest, General Skycrest, we will look forward to meeting next week to discuss progress.”

“I think you should go with Theresa and Ridge, dear,” Madam Skycrest replied, “we’ll be seeing quite a lot of each other going forward.”

“We’re looking forward to it,” Annnete said.

Laurel contemplated as Annete and Adam almost immediately fell asleep in the carriage. In several meaningful ways she had achieved the goal she’d set upon leaving her old sect, and then fleeing Laskar altogether. The same goal Grandmaster Florin had set in what had become his last wish. A new country, a new sect, rebuilt from the ashes of their predecessors. That was her duty, and she had achieved it. But the amount of work ahead of them felt almost insurmountable. They had to re-establish an ancient sect, build up the City Core, help fend off monster attacks, …and of course the area she was still shying away from in her own mind, teaching some new novices the ways of cultivation. She envisioned Borin, doing his best at the exercises she set him, but never quite grasping the thrill of cultivating for the first time before being cut down. If he’d been further along in his cultivation he might have noticed the intruders and escaped. If she’d been a better teacher, or more humble in her estimation of the Laskarian villagers, he might never have had to. Further back she recalled every time she’d avoided a request to mentor a younger sect member, or take on a leadership role beyond her small group of friends.

If she thought about it for too long she knew she would never begin. “Small steps pave the way to the heavens” she muttered. She would focus on the most important pieces first, anchoring the City Core and raising a new citadel. The rest would follow if she could just keep her head above water.