The Ruby Magician

Flir scratched some notes on a small pad of paper. The sounds of sparring - punches and kicks landing, grunts of effort and pain, and weapons echoing off each other - were melodious, like a sweet song. It relaxed her. The training hall was bustling with Climbers, all eager to continue practicing in order to maximize their chances of succeeding in the tower. The newer Fighters held most of the hall as they were the most numerous of the rookie classes, and she watched over them along with her partner.

“Samuel doesn’t seem too bad,” Flir said, not taking her eyes off her notes. “Good strikes with a club. Strong. Not too bad footwork.”

“Good family, too,” Dirk said. “I believe they’re minor nobles outside Fyrewatch?”

Flir’s eyes lit up. She quickly made another note on her pad. “Excellent! We could… persuade them to sponsor us. I could use a new set of armor. And I’m still missing a water helm to complete the set.”

“Come now, Flir, think of the Climbers. They need some things, too.”

Flir looked at him, and he looked back. Both smirked and chuckled quietly to themselves.

“Maybe a potion or two,” Flir said. “Where would they be without us leading them to greatness?”

“Hmm. Quite right. Alright, who else have you noted?”

Flir sighed. “The stock this week is slow. This season has not been productive for us. But a legacy Fighter named John seems promising.”

Dirk raised his eyebrows. “A legacy’s here and you’re just now mentioning it?”

“It’s the Gallows.”

Dirk moaned. “No wonder. We won’t squeeze even a copper boot out of him.”

“Which is why I haven’t said anything. But, I will say he shows potential. Good sword and shield skills, good endurance compared to most rookies. It’s obvious he’s trained for awhile before coming.”

“What are his skills and growth?”

Flir scribbled more notes with fury. “He hasn’t shared them.”

“What?“ Dirk snapped. “We’re his mentors. We should know all of his information!”

“He said he doesn’t want it known just yet. It’s driving the others mad.”

“Has he not practiced them during sparring bouts?”

Flir smiled. “No. He’s beating his opponents without them.”

Dirk nodded. “Not bad. And even though I hate it, it’s not a bad idea keeping them secret with this much competition. I’m surprised he’s held his own without them, though. Maybe he already has a passive skill?”

“Maybe. But the only other rookie to give him trouble is Lionel.” She tapped her quill on the paper several times. “He’s our guy.”

“Lionel? Why?”

Flir flipped a few pages over and handed them to Dirk. “Take a look. He’s a bit older than the rest, but still young. Tall. Well built. A temper like a bull!”

Dirk read over the pages. The notes read how Lionel preferred using axes, overpowered his opponents with brute force, and was reckless with his attacks but almost always won his matches. He tended to go too far when pushed, but was noted to be more than capable.

Dirk looked over the recruits and frowned. Flir was right, of course. But she didn’t take it as far as she needed. “I think they’d want him.”

Flir felt her heart skip a beat. “Shit. I really don’t want to see her again.”

Dirk smiled and patted her on the back. “I’ll do all the talking. Don’t worry.”

Dirk stepped forward and clapped his hands together several times, gathering the training Fighters. He smiled his best charming smile and praised them for their efforts.

“We’re done for today, unless anyone wants to prepare for the rookie climb tomorrow. If so, there’s more preparations to be done, but please break for some food or rest and meet back in two hours. Lionel, could you please stay behind?”

Murmurs swept through the small crowd. They slowly separated, all going their separate ways. A tall Fighter stepped forward, a wooden training axe in his right hand. His arms were bruised and his hair was plastered to his head with sweat.

“Yes?” Lionel said. “Did I do something wrong? If Annie doesn’t want an actual fight she shouldn’t be a Climber. It wasn’t my fault -”

Flir raised a hand. “It’s not about that. We’ve taken notice of your abilities. You’re good.”

Lionel straightened up and relaxed his grip on the axe. “I know.”

Dirk smirked. “See? He’s perfect.”

“Perfect?” Lionel asked. “For what?”

“You’ll see,” Dirk said. “Follow us.”

Dirk turned while Flir waved Lionel on.

Lionel stood still, confused. The two mentors were obviously up to something strange, and he had no idea about their intentions. He was clearly a much better Fighter than the rest of the lot, so it likely had something to do with a secret boon or training.

Well, he wasn’t better than John, but the sword and shield Fighter had an unfair advantage from his family and prior training. Lionel was confident he’d surpass him in a season or two.

The two middle aged Climbers silently led Lionel out of the training hall and towards another part of the city. Lionel hadn’t been in Alestead long and was still getting used to the layout, but he knew where they headed was not a commonly travelled area. Regular citizens made up the vast majority of people walking about, and it wasn’t nearly as busy as the primary street or trade district. The houses were more cramped and on top of each other, too, like a shanty town. No one seemed to be too poor, though, as he didn’t notice a single beggar on the cobblestone street or anyone running around in cloth sacks or pitiful clothes. It was likely the housing area for the various workers at the tower or markets.

“Where are we going?” Lionel asked. They had passed multiple streets and turns, and his patience was wearing thin while his nerves were growing. The amount of people they passed were lessening with every turn, too, to the point where now they hadn’t passed anyone.

“Be patient,” Dirk answered.

Lionel scoffed. He hated roundabout answers, and hated being patronized even more. If these two weren’t his superiors he would’ve raised more of a fuss or started pushing back by now. There was obviously some deeper, secretive thing happening, but he was annoyed how they decided to go about it.

This didn’t seem like it was worth the trouble, and Lionel started to look for a quick escape.

“We’re close,” Flir added. “Just one more side street.”

True to her word, the trio turned once more into a dead end. There were no homes or doors here, only the shadows from the tall buildings and barely any light from the early afternoon sun. It was dark and more shaded than lit.

Lionel immediately stopped and took a step back. “What is this? What are you two doing?” He raised his fists like he was ready to fight, and quick stepped towards Dirk.

“My, my, he’s feisty,” a silky smooth voice said further down the alley.

Lionel stopped his advance and whirled his head to the sound of the voice. He squinted, but was unable to see in the shadows.

Dirk and Flir stepped to either side of the alley away from each other.

“We have a new recruit,” Dirk said. He folded his hands behind his back. “He’s very promising.”

“Recruit?” Lionel asked. “I don’t want to be in some damn group.”

The voice from the shadows laughed. It was deep but oddly still feminine. “You say that now. Every Climber has to be in some group.”

Lionel looked at both of his mentors in turn but they stayed resolute, looking down the alley as though they could see the person clear as day. Flir gave a quick glance back but her expression was unreadable.

Light steps clattered on the cobblestone as a woman emerged from the darkness. She wore a sleek robe with dress shoes, adorned with various jewelry on her hands, wrist, and neck. Her straight, long hair was as black as night and smooth without a single strand out of place. Her green eyes seemed to pierce Lionel’s soul, and her smirk seemed to invite him back to her bed.

Lionel’s heart raced. She was alluring, but out of place. Her appearance didn’t match the situation or environment. Someone looking like her was the last person he expected to step out from a dark back alley.

This was not good. But, they wanted something from him. So he had the upper hand.

“I’m Marianna,” the woman said. “And you are?”

“Lionel.”

“Lionel. Your name suits you. Strong, confident, brash. We need people like you, Lionel.”

“Who is we?”

Marianna’s smirk deepened into a smile. “We are a select group of Climbers with a very special task inside Alistair. We don’t invite just anyone to join, either.”

“So you’re part of a guild, then? Already had my information from these two and liked what you saw?” Lionel gestured to his mentors but only saw empty space.

His heart raced. Those two bastards must’ve sneaked away when Lionel was busy focusing on the woman. He suddenly felt very exposed but also trapped like a caged animal. She didn’t seem too dangerous, but those were always the type of people to guard against. Their motivations were usually deeper than what they let on, and Lionel felt like this was that exact scenario.

He was vulnerable, and that wasn’t a feeling he particularly enjoyed.

“Not quite a guild. And yes, we heavily invest resources into any potential member - can’t have just anyone join us, after all.”

Lionel took a step back. “I have a bad feeling from you. Like…”

“Like power?” Marianna finished for him, cutting him off. She held out a hand and summoned a small orb of water that slowly began to swirl. It was perfectly round and constantly in motion, almost mesmerizing. “The ability to defeat your enemies with absolution? Crush those who oppose you?”

Lionel stared at the orb now, her words flowing through him like a siren’s song. The orb grew to the size of a large melon, though maintained its allure.

“Yes,” Lionel whispered, almost absentmindedly.

“Prestige? Fame? Known throughout the country for your deeds and wealth even the highest of nobles would envy?”

“Yes.”

The orb continued to grow, now the size of her torso as she held her hand out further from her body.

“This is a small portion of power you could obtain. Even as a Fighter.”

Lionel scowled at her, shaking off the trance-like display. “Even as a Fighter? Lady, warriors are better than damned Mages in every way. Your little spells won’t do much when you’ve run out of mana. That was a neat trick, but not good enough for me.”

Marianna chuckled and decreased the size of her water orb back to fitting in the palm of her hand. “I could do so much with this little orb of water before you could even react, and no one else has this kind of spell or skill. Don’t underestimate the power of magic, boy. It’s how anyone, even Fighters, accomplishes what they do, but me and my group more so.”

Lionel folded his arms. “I don’t need a lecture. If you’re asking me to join your magic group or whatever, count me out. I’m done.” He turned and walked away, ready to get out of this twisted recruitment. He had no interest in what she was selling.

Marianna sighed and released her water orb, causing the water to disappear as vapor into the air. “He’s more bullheaded than I thought. Wait, Lionel. We aren’t a group of magic users.”

Lionel stopped and turned back around. “Then what are you?”

“I can only reveal a little. You’ll have to agree to join to find out the rest.”

“That’s a terrible deal.”

Marianna laughed again. “If people only knew what we offered they’d be trying to kill you right now for the chance.”

“You haven’t mentioned shit. That’s not a very convincing argument.”

“I guess not for you. But do you know who the last person to complete the 20th floor of Alistair was?”

Lionel shook his head. “No.”

“That’s because the city’s guild doesn’t announce who completes the tower. They don’t want the masses to know how rare it actually is to finish all 20 floors, and how many Climbers die on the last tier trying to win it all.”

“We all know the risks. So what?”

“So, our leader was the last one to finish. And the rewards he received are far, far better than any amount of gold crowns or magic items you could find.”

Lionel’s heart raced again. “What did he earn?”

Marianna smiled. Her hook was back in place. “Power. And plenty of it.”

“Good for him. Why would I care?”

“Because the power he received allows him to share it with others. You could be far greater than any normal Climber, no matter what kind of rare class you obtain or magic items you find. This is true, undiscovered strength that Climbers such as yourself only dream to hold in their hand.”

Lionel felt a strange surge of power suddenly rush through him. Was that her? Or did he only imagine it, hoping what she said was true? He desperately wished for her to be right. He craved - no, needed - power above all else.

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

Marianna waved him to her. “Come, show me your mark.”

Lionel hesitated.

Marianna scoffed and pulled the edge of her dress back, exposing her entire left leg up to her bare hip. The mark of some class Lionel didn’t recognize composed the center, and six rings of runes surrounded the symbol.

Lionel blushed, then realized what he saw. Six runic rings weren’t just rare, they were unheard of. Everyone should have an odd number of rings except for those specifically chosen or blessed by the tower, and even those methods of acquisition were unknown.

Maybe she really is telling the truth.

“I’ve been a Climber for some time, but I wouldn’t have six rings without the very power I’m offering.”

Lionel walked up to her and took off his outer shirt. Staring at her, he unbuttoned the top of his under shirt and pulled it to the side, exposing his Fighter mark on his left chest.

Marianna gingerly placed her hand on his mark and closed her eyes. A swirl of arcane runes formed around her, creating a faint blue aura.

“Interesting,” Marianna said, her eyes still closed. “This wasn’t your chosen class but you’ve decided to be marked as a Fighter anyway.”

“How did you -”

The swirling runes around Marianna circled and swept down her arm towards Lionel, settling on his mark.

Lionel felt his breath catch and recoiled. A wave of cold washed over him like jumping in a frozen lake, and his breathing rapidly picked up. He tried to step back but found that Marianna’s hand was magically attached to his mark.

“What are you doing?” Lionel asked, his voice cracking. He tried to suppress a rising feeling of panic, but stopped resisting when the cold turned warm with a euphoric sensation.

The blue aura dissipated and the woman let go of his mark.

“There. And that’s only a fraction of what you could obtain.”

Lionel looked at this chest and saw his single circle had more runes lined within it. They contrasted the Fighter’s red runes and slowly faded to black over several seconds. He still only had one runic circle, but knew he was just granted a boon.

“What was that?”

“That was a small enhancement. I can’t grant you the full amount of power, but I was able to pass along a minor boost. To establish trust.”

Lionel squeezed his hands into fists over and over. “I feel… I’m not sure. What’s the enhancement?”

Marianna winked at him. “Something fit for a Fighter, of course! Your strength and endurance are permanently increased beyond what a first-tiered Fighter should possess.”

Lionel flexed and moved his body, eager to test the amount of improvements. “That’s incredible. I already feel it.”

“So you see now that I’m serious. We want you, Lionel. And we mean business.”

Lionel’s smile faded. It could be too good to be true, but he couldn’t deny this feeling. This power. It was intoxicating.

“Alright. How do I join?”

Marianna placed her hands behind her back and dropped her smile. She stood straighter, displaying a commanding presence that didn’t match her previous appeal.

“We are not for the weak. We will demand you to do things you may not like but are necessary. You will be ruthless. You must be willing to do what others shy away from to accomplish a greater purpose.”

Lionel’s face crept into a smile. “That’s the best thing you’ve said yet.”

Marianna smiled once more, though it was not as alluring as before. It was… menacing. “You say that now, but we’ll see if you can stomach it. Your task for entry requires a sacrifice.”

“A sacrifice? I have to die to join?”

“No, you fool.” Marianna’s voice cracked into a deeper, harsher tone. She visibly softened, trying to maintain her composure. “You must sever the bond of an ally and prove your level of cruelty.”

Lionel clenched his jaw. How in the hells was he supposed to do that?

The woman walked up to Lionel and cupped her hands around his face. She stared deep into his eyes, past the surface and further into his being. Magic runes began to swirl in her irises, and her words felt as though they were echoing in his mind.

Lionel couldn’t look away. He was completely focused on her and her alone.

“We must introduce you to our beliefs. Our meaning for Climbing.”

Lionel didn’t blink. Her eyes were hypnotic, both commanding his attention and showing him truth. “Yes.”

“Your first lesson. Have you heard of the great Aliyar?”