The Ruby Magician

Wyn snaked through the crowd, avoiding the new Climbers. All of the rookies were carrying their parchment like it was made of gold, which to them it was. It had their newly minted information: their name, class, background, and skills. He still didn’t fully know what most of it meant or why it was there, but he hoped his mentor would help guide him.

He just had to find them first.

The new Climbers all migrated towards a large building, that appeared to be at least ten stories tall. It occupied its own space on the corner of a street on the way deeper into the city towards Alistair’s base, though he assumed all streets eventually led deeper towards the magical tower. All of the people who had been harmonized now sought their next step like Wyn.

The entrance mimicked the entrance to the city - pillars for doorframes with two large wooden doors filling their gap. It was smaller here, obviously, but the resemblance was purposeful and uncanny. In large letters above the doorway read GUILD HALL.

Wyn quickly realized there weren’t just rookies in the crowd, either. He could tell the veterans apart from the rookies easily, as they walked with the same air and stride as earlier outside the city gates. None of them carried their parchments openly, and instead wore their weapons and armor like trophies.

The inside, at no surprise to Wyn, was also grand. There was a large staircase at the far end of the hall opposite the entrance that was incredibly wide, easily able to accommodate five men walking side by side. It led up through multiple floors, branching off either direction in an open layout where he could see hallways and doors many floors up.

The staircase sat to the left of a desktop that spanned the entire back wall. The back wall was filled with shelves of bottles of alcohol, obviously serving as the bar when it wasn’t so busy. Several people stood behind it, all running around managing people who waited for their help.

Scattered in the middle of the hall were tables, steadily filling with people, either eating and drinking or just talking, likely planning out their day or just simply catching up. Wyn overheard several conversations just walking in, all discussing some element of the tower and the climb.

To the right of the hall was a large stone hearth, where a man was bent down trying to light the fire. There were doors on either side of the hearth where staff entered and exited. Coming through into the hall they were flying from table to table, carrying trays of food and beverages. They were wearing a sort of uniform - black pants, formal white shirts, and a blue apron. They had varying degrees of flair to each of them, some shirts short sleeved and others buttoned, though all their aprons were adorned with silver trimming and a symbol of the tower Alistair on the chest.

Wyn felt a tap on his shoulder. “Can I get you anything?” A woman carrying an empty tray was smiling at him. She was middle aged, slightly plump, and cheerful with kind eyes.

Wyn realized he was just standing right inside as Climbers brushed past him in either direction. “I’m okay, thank you,” Wyn said, smiling back. “I’m just looking for information about my mentor.”

“Oh, yes! So you’re a Climber,” the woman said, tapping the tray with her fingers as she held it. “The managers are behind the desk next to the staircase. They’ll help you find your mentor!” She was exceptionally positive, bouncing a bit, and Wyn couldn’t help but keep smiling.

“Thanks, again. Do you normally have a lot of customers?” Wyn was nervous. He felt dumb right as he said it.

The woman laughed. “You could say that! We have new Climbers every week. This was a large amount, though! It’s probably for the festival tomorrow night. Everyone wants a reward or recognition. Or just to enjoy it!”

“That’s right. I almost forgot! I’ve heard they’re quite the spectacle for Climbers and tourists alike. I’ve never attended one myself."

“You’ll have a great time! Just don’t overindulge, especially if you plan to start the next season right away.” She giggled a bit, her hair bouncing off her shoulder and falling behind her. Her smile quickly faded, though, and she sighed.“You’re right, though. It also celebrates all of the Climber’s accomplishments, both in life and death.”

Wyn nodded, fully aware of how serious it is to climb the tower. “I’m sure the festival brings more business, here, too.”

“It does, yes. Though I do wish I could have regulars more than tourists and newcomers. No offense!”

“None taken.”

“I just…” She paused, looking down. “I hate to get to know a new group of people and find they lose themselves, or leave, or… die in the tower.” She immediately lost her glow as a sour expression crossed her face.

“I’m sorry.” Wyn balled his fingers into a fist. He hated losing friends when he served in the military, so he understood to a degree. It was never easy. Impossible, even, for more than most.

“Well, no matter,” She said, quickly smiling again. “I don’t mean to greet you so negatively. I do hope your time here is long and fulfilling!”

Wyn returned her smile, finding it infectious. “Me, too. I’m Wyn, by the way. I’m sure I’ll be back and see you again.”

She gave a soft smile. “You better! I’m Wendy. When you come back ask for me!” She gave a wink, then darted off as quickly as she came, running back behind the closest door beside the hearth.

Wyn walked over to the desk and looked for someone who wasn’t busy helping another Climber. The crowd was thicker now, the noise well above average conversation. Some were talking to the guild staff for information, others were trying to get their attention, and some still were yelling just to be heard.

A shorter man, tanned with cropped black hair, ran up towards the desk in front of Wyn. He was wearing a similar outfit to the waiters and waitresses, being part of the guild, though instead of an apron he wore a vest with the same symbol of Alistair on the chest.

“Let me guess, looking for your mentor?” The man was looking around, his forehead glistening with beads of sweat. He was being summoned left and right.

“Umm, yes,” Wyn said, flustered.

“Hand me your parchment. Quickly, please!”

Wyn held up his parchment, then began to hand it over. The man nearly snatched it he grabbed it so fast, scanning it quickly.

“Your mentor is Daniel. He’s on the third floor.” The man began to walk away, looking for another person to help.

“How will I know which door?” Wyn said, yelling back at him. Who knew how many doors or rooms were in this building? Was he supposed to knock on each one?

The man looked back and simply pointed to his hand. He was already taking another Climber’s parchment.

Wyn looked down at his own magical paper. What did he mean by that? He looked it over, reading the words again. This time he noticed something he didn’t see before. On the top right, stamped like a seal, was a symbol. It was a magician’s hat, red in color, laid over a shield that covered a sword and staff in a cross shape. It appeared like a coat of arms, a symbol of royalty.

Here in the tower, classes were royalty. They were the means to gain access inside. And he realized he had his ticket.

Wyn made his way upstairs, giddy with newfound excitement. He thought of Daniel, his mentor. He wondered about his knowledge, his skills, even his appearance. He imagined a strong, tall man, though smart and intelligent, who wielded the skill set to fight in close quarters but also cast magic when needed. He wondered how popular being a Ruby Magician, or Red Mage, would be, considering they were rare. Being able to be flexible with his own skills to overcome any obstacle would surely be valuable.

As he thought and walked, he found himself on the third floor, daydreaming while climbing the stairs. The hallway snaked around the open floor of the guild hall’s entrance, and he started to his right. The doors didn’t have numbers or names, but rather symbols. And there were many more doors than he thought.

He noticed on this floor there were mostly magical doors, as he passed other classes’ symbols. He saw a staff over a magical rune, the same foundational circle around a triangle that allowed the user to cast spells. He assumed that would be a Magician’s door. He also saw some with elements on them: a ball of fire, a snowflake, a lightning bolt. He passed by one that had an incredibly complex magical symbol, a large circle with many other shapes and lines inside it, and he hurt his head trying to figure out what it could represent.

He passed by several Climbers also looking for their door, checking their parchment and looking for their symbol. They all exchanged nervous glances, anxious smiles or simply ignored each other. Who knew what would happen next? Fortune, glory and power could be introduced on the other side of that door. Death, ruin and shame could, as well.

Finally, at the end of the hall, he came across his door. He checked his own symbol, then checked the door again, and sure enough, the Ruby Magician’s symbol was there, though it wasn’t what he expected. It was older, splintered in places, more worn and dusty than the others. Was it more commonly used? Maybe it was opened quite a lot? He thought he remembered reading that Red Mages were more rare but maybe not. He grabbed the cold doorknob and turned it to open.

He had no idea what to expect on the other side of the door. A grand room, a simple room, weapons and armor on racks or a bookshelf with knowledge and spell books, he was excited and anticipated anything and nothing at the same time. What he saw, however, was not what he expected.

Inside was an apartment, and Wyn stepped right into the den. The low lantern light offered little visibility, but what he saw was out of a nightmare. He first saw a small bookshelf to his right, a few books laying on their sides or sprawled open, and cobwebs filled the majority of the empty space. The middle of the room had a small rug, stained and dingy, with a wooden table set on top. The table was filled with dirty plates, bottles of alcohol, and a rag scattered over it all like a cherry on top of a trash can sundae.

The smell of ale and old food smacked Wyn in the face. He gagged and tried to hold back his breakfast. He immediately hoped he stumbled into the wrong room but deep in his gut he knew he was, unfortunately, in the right place.

Two armchairs sat to the left in the room, less stained but torn in random places, and a bearded man was cuddling a bottle of ale while he slept. He jolted when Wyn gagged and woke up.

“Mrmm, hello? Who’s there?” His eyes were bloodshot. His words slurred.

“Hi,” Wyn said, offering a sad excuse for a smile. He breathed through his mouth so he wouldn’t smell the room. “I’m looking for Daniel. I’m a new tower Climber.”

“You are? Really?” The man got up and dropped his ale, though none spilled. The bottle clanged against the ground, hollow and empty. He gained some composure and his words sounded more sober. Barely. “Alright. Wait one moment.” He walked off, further into the den, where a hallway sat behind a wall. Wyn didn’t notice it before due to his gagging and disgust.

The man jumped back out into the den, now haphazardly dressed in a red robe and hat, his right arm not fully into the sleeve and the hat covered his left eye. He was taller than Wyn thought, slightly above average, though had a gut that betrayed his indulgence of food and drink. He looked as though he left his prime several years ago.

Wyn jumped back in surprise, smacking the door behind him with his back.

“Ta da! Hello newcomer! Welcome to, umm,” the man said, hiccuping several times between words. He pulled out a ripped piece of paper from somewhere in the robe. “Welcome to the Ruby Magician’s den! We at the guild would like to thank you, umm,” he stopped, then turned the piece of paper over in his hand. “The rest is here somewhere. I don’t know where, though. Ha! That’s embarrassing!” He laughed, and hiccuped several more times.

“That is what’s embarrassing?”

“I’ll find it eventually. Anyways! I am Daniel! I’m the Ruby Magician mentor for tower Alistair. I’ll be your mentor! Welcome!”

“Yea. You already said that.” Wyn looked over the filthy room. He instantly regretted coming to the tower, and had a sinking feeling he would die a quick and painful death.

“Well, once more for emphasis,” Daniel said, smiling. He walked into the den and sat back down in his chair. “Please, have a seat. And what’s your name?”

“Wyn,” he replied, and brushed off some crumbs from the chair. Thankfully it wasn’t as dirty or stained as the other. He sat on the edge delicately.

“Great to meet you, Wyn.” Daniel stared at him, smiling again.

Wyn stared back, not knowing what to say or do.

“Oh, yes,” Daniel continued. “Can I see your parchment?”

Wyn waited a moment, unsure if he wanted to part with it so quickly and to someone so questionable, but eventually offered it. Despite it being his, it appeared as though it was customary to have officials casually review his newly acquired paper.

Daniel took it and looked it over. He nodded several times, twice raising his eyebrows.

“Rywood, aye? You must have some farming in your blood. Makes sense with your lightly tanned skin and broad shoulders. Though you don’t have the bulk of a young farmer your age. And Lucidity! That’s a useful skill! Not every Ruby Magician has that right away.”

Wyn perked up, ignoring the slight. “Yes, actually, I do come from farmers. I remember reading that some skills are given immediately and some are earned in the tower. I thought maybe that skill was standard?”

“Yes, yes, and no. I think that’s right. Lucidity is a special passive skill usually earned in the second tier for our class. It will serve you well, though, if you make it that far.” His face grew sour. He looked at the bottle of ale he dropped earlier, picked it up, then threw it back down when he felt it was empty.

“I plan to make it very far, thanks.”

“Don’t they all.” Daniel handed him back his parchment, then got up from the chair with effort and walked back to the hallway.

Wyn stared at him in disbelief, his jaw open subconsciously. His mentor, who he had been looking forward to meeting and imagined was a great Climber and person, was a drunk and cynic.

A cork popped in Daniel’s direction.

Wyn set his jaw and clenched his teeth. “Look, I didn’t mean to interrupt your day plans or anything, I just need you to mentor me. Or whatever needs to happen in order for me to go into the tower.”

Daniel came back out, now holding a new bottle of ale in his hands. He took a quick drink, then appeared oddly more at peace. He sat back down in his chair.

“Most Ruby Magicians don’t come here. They either choose a different class, find some other work, or leave.” He was hiccuping less than before, and waved his ale bottle around while he talked. “The ones that do stick it out don’t understand how to be the class. I haven’t had a new Climber in…” Daniel looked up at the ceiling. “Almost a year.”

Wyn swallowed hard. He wondered how long his mentor had been in Alestead and how many negative experiences he’d been through. “Why do they leave without giving it a chance?”

Daniel sighed, then took a small sip of his drink. His slurring was hardly noticeable now and his movements were less sporadic, though still slow. “People don’t like a class that doesn’t specialize in something specific. A Ruby Magician’s specialty is variety. Options. Flexibility. Our growth,” Daniel said, pointing to Wyn’s parchment, “is any. We don’t focus on strength or toughness like a Fighter, speed or quickness like a Rogue, or pure magic like a Sorcerer or other Magicians. That variety doesn’t appeal to people who need to play a role inside Alistair to succeed.”

Wyn thought on that. “I’d imagine the ability to do several things, though, would be helpful. Like you said - flexibility. That could be useful in the tower where the floors change and environment is unexpected.”

Daniel tilted his head. “Sort of.” He took a large swig of his beer. “Though when Climbers go into the tower, they form parties, of course. They expect specific roles in those parties to both maximize their chances of survival and to face obstacles they find.”

“I knew that. And roles, too. Like someone who can heal and support, someone who can cast spells or shoot arrows, and someone in close combat. A well-rounded group.”

Daniel pointed at Wyn with the top of the beer bottle and smiled. “Exactly. You’ve done your homework!”

“If I want to succeed I needed to know the basics. I thought so, at least. I still have some questions I was hoping you could answer, though.” Wyn realized he had fully settled back into the chair during their conversation as his focus shifted to the dirty room. He immediately sat up and scooted closer to the edge of the chair again. He felt contaminated.

“There is so much I am unable to tell you that you must learn on your own in the tower. It’s that simple. However, there are some basics I can teach you first to help you in the beginning. And you must know these before risking your life.” He took another long drink from the bottle.

Wyn nodded, holding his breath for a second as he wanted to keep breathing through his mouth. He felt sick to his stomach. “Then can we discuss it downstairs? No offense, but it’s absolutely disgusting in here. I think I might throw up.”

Daniel furrowed his brow and looked around the room. His cheeks flushed red and he cleared his throat.

“Umm, yes, you’re quite right.” He popped up from his seat and began to grab the dirty plates from the tables. “Meet me downstairs in the guild hall. Order some food - that will help. I’ll be down before long!” He hurried back behind the wall with dirty dishes in hand.

Wyn didn’t hesitate. He held his breath, jumped up, and ran out the door.