“Did you see this?” Annette was incensed. She stalked into Adam’s office, where he and Martin were chatting over tea and breakfast, and through a newspaper down between them. Martin leaned over, still cupping his mug.
“A newspaper?” he said.
“Front page story, paragraph 18.”
Adam picked it up and counted out to the place Annette indicated and began to read aloud.
“Thus we can be thankful for the hard work of the soldiers at Fort Sarken, and the many volunteers for their tireless efforts. Without them, casualties would have been catastrophic. This journalist is left with questions. Last Autumn, when the city was attacked, members of the Eternal Archive, a new school for the use of magic, were front and center in the defense against a singular foe. This week we were left on our own. Were these monsters not worth fighting? Was last fall a play for public opinion? No one can say, but we will all be watching the sect, and the newest Meristan guild, the Magician’s Guild, for their actions moving forward.
“In other news, officials are asking for patience in this trying time. Anyone searching for a missing person has been asked to put a report in at Fort Sarken. Likewise for those experiencing property damage…”
“That’s enough,” Annette stopped Adam before he kept rambling through the entire paper. “You see the problem?”
“Well we aren’t a school for starters –”
“Not the time Martin!” She could feel herself shrieking but couldn’t stop. “Do you have any idea of the time and effort I’ve put in to keep our reputation positive? This is an absolute disaster.”
“I think you’re overreacting.”
Annette took a deep breath, and somehow refrained from strangling Adam after his comment. She deserved a medal.
“I have another paper here somewhere,” he poked around on his desk until he slipped another newspaper out from under his plate. “Yeah, see they said ‘we thank the members of the Magician’s Guild and the Eternal Archive for their assistance’. See, nice.”
“That,” she pointed to the paper in his hand, “is what commoners read.” She had to cut Adam’s angry retort off when she continued, “This, this is what the nobles, and guild heads, and rich people, and literally everyone with power, reads. I’m going to talk to Sabrina about this, and I suggest you two start brainstorming options.”
*******
She stormed into the guildhall and held up the paper.
“I know, I’m on it. I set up time with one of their other reporters to interview the kids who joined in the defense scheduled for tomorrow,” Sabrina said.
Annette’s shoulders relaxed for the first time that morning. “Thank you, at least somebody takes this seriously.”
The older woman gave her a shrewd look. “Dear, when was the last time you had a break?”
“What do you mean, I just had a two day break while everyone else was out defending the city.”
“I mean a real break. When you stop working for a while, maybe go somewhere else.”
“I’ll take a break when the guild is in a solid position. We can hardly stop now, we still have another five months before the end of our probationary period.”
“Hmm, if that’s what you want.
********
Kurt Mansfeln needed a break. The past fortnight had been a nightmare, and he couldn’t quite remember the last time he had a full night’s sleep. He gave himself a slight slap across the face, he could sleep when he was dead. Refocusing on the table in front of him, he gave his notes one more read-through.
The king entered the room and Mansfeln stood, as did the rest of the council, the Skycrests having arrived at the fort a few minutes before. Once he sat down and the rest found their seats again it was time to begin.
“Tell me,” the king commanded.
“Sir. Casualty reports are still being tallied. The largest impact was on the Flats, and some people have been hesitant to report missing. For the army, 75 soldiers and promising recruits fell in defense of the city, with another several hundred in various states of injury. A significant hit to our local stores of arms and ammunition, which should be rectifiable within half a year if we have the requisite funds allocated.
“Reports of violence in the city have been investigated. Few real instances have been substantiated, though there are issues we need to head off for gangs attempting to make some moves in the chaos.
“A trawler was sent out to confirm the claims made by the experts of the Magic Guild. What they pulled up was described by witnesses as ‘nightmare-fuel’. A lot of rotting monster pieces. Based on some rough estimates, they were correct that we were attacked underwater as well. If the number of monsters was evenly distributed in a circle around the city, we’re lucky we even have a harbor left to use.”
He went on to describe other reports the army had collected, including damaged infrastructure and the destroyed plain that had been the major battlefield. There was also, to his infinite distaste, the matter of the private guards in the wealthier districts. It wasn’t illegal to hire personal security, and there had been no reported losses in the higher areas of the city. But another few hundred able bodies would have made a difference in the trenches. The king nodded in thanks but didn’t ask any questions before gesturing for Madam Curson to give her own reports.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
“Property damage in the city was kept relatively low, all things considered. A full survey is currently underway. The nobles of course think any funding for reconstruction should be given to them as individuals to dole out appropriately. Guild heads are making sure we look to them for certified laborers.
“Paying out the contracts for all of the volunteer defenders will be significant. Quite a few of the mercenary companies are still in the city after the winter. The cultivators, alas, will be the most expensive per person. Both for the defensive formation and the individual’s risking themselves in the defense. In what I believe to be a show of goodwill, the two that defended from the sea are not asking for more than any other individual.”
Theresa was up next, despite only having had a few hours to prepare after arriving in the city the previous night. “Public opinion is mixed. Most people are looking at the palace and the army favorably for having the foresight to prepare and then for defending the city. There have been some moves from the guilds to try and discredit the cultivators by claiming they were not participating. It helps their case that Laurel still isn’t back.
“If I may suggest, your majesty, a statement thanking the cultivators for their contributions, among the other defenders, would likely head it off before it becomes a mess.”
“It has been our long held policy to avoid direct intervention in matters between guilds unless absolutely necessary. If you have a case that we’ve reached that point, I am willing to listen, but I do not believe it is worth the backlash at the moment.”
Theresa chose not to push at the proclamation and continued with a recap of the newspaper coverage of the last week’s events. Mansfeln slapped himself again as he realized he was starting to nod off. Just another short while and then he could sleep.
*******
Martin leaned back in his chair and took a sip of the spirit wine. Without any vineyards producing the stuff, each bottle was a treasure. But the successful defense of the city deserved a worthy toast. Devon hummed in appreciation of the vintage, while Adam was sent into a coughing fit. But he tossed out a thumbs up so Martin was fairly certain he liked it.
“Stars, that’s good. You need to find someone that likes growing grapes and teach them the infusing techniques,” Devon said.
Martin snorted. “I’ll add it to the list, right above teaching an entire country how to defend against magic and right below building a wall so we don’t have such a mess each wave.”
They toasted again. “Remember the Rising Fang sect in Ansuraj? I had a dream about their feasts the other day.” Devon moaned. “High level mana beasts, perfectly paired with their own vintages. All gone now. If there’s something whoever trapped us needs to answer for it’s that.”
“I think there are some other things they are going to answer for. I’m certain if Laurel meets any of them she has plans I would rather not know about…” Adam had recovered from his own sip of the wine to rejoin the conversation.
“Here, here.” Martin added.
“That’s because those two are the same kind of blustery fighter types. I just want to focus on crafting. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve got some surprises waiting if any of those fuckers show up, but revenge quests are best left to vortex cultivators with more power than wisdom.”
Martin’s answer to Devon’s little monologue was a knicknack tossed at the other man’s head. “You’re just saying that because I won the beast wave.”
“Oh, fuck you jackass, you didn’t win anything.”
“Um, who killed more of the beasts that made it past the formation? I don’t think it was you, and it most assuredly wasn’t the army.”
“Okay. I’m willing to admit that technically, you killed more things in the last week. Very impressive and we’re all proud of you. But life is about more than being able to rip a monster apart with your bare hands.”
“Debatable.”
“Without the formation, the city would be in tatters right now. Without me, no formation. Therefore every beast that didn’t get through the formation counts on my end. You’re welcome.”
“Please. First off, I helped with that too. Second off, does every gunmaker and carpenter in the city get to count the ones the soldiers killed? No. I still won.”
Devon leaned over and nudged Adam, who had been silent during the argument. “Classic vortex cultivator ‘hit it as hard as you can’ kind of attitude, am I right?”
“Well, to be honest I’m feeling a bit inadequate on all ends now. I wasn’t any help to the defense.”
Martin and Devon shouted over one another in their attempt to contradict that. He hadn’t realized how upset Adam was at how he had contributed to the city’s defense, but Martin immediately began thinking of ways to help Adam feel more confident. Devon beat him to the explanation though, and he let it happen. Hearing from someone with a similar cultivation was probably better for the man anyway.
“You’re an initiate tidal cultivator. I’m assuming with no experience in combat before joining a sect.” The enchanter didn’t bother stopping for confirmation of the fact and plowed on. “The fact you can create any external effects with your cultivation after so short a time frame is impressive progress. Strong sects have different kinds of cultivators for exactly that reason, to spread the burden. If anything, you and Annette helping Laurel pull this whole place together from nothing was more of a contribution to the defense than the majority of the city made.”
Martin could see Adam wasn’t convinced, but the hunched over posture was gone so it was at least progress. An idea popped into his head and he let it out without hesitation.
“How about this,” he said. “Devon and I have to sneak into Laskar to hunt down his sect's Legacy Stone once Laurel gets back. Come with us.” He had the pleasure of watching Adam’s expression transition from a vague guilt to shocked concern.
“Wait a minute –”
“That’s actually an excellent idea, surprising from this one,” Devon said. “Cultivators need experience to grow. Tidal cultivators, especially crafters, sometimes forget that and stick around the sect forever. But it ends up limiting them in the end.”
“I’m not really sure leaving the country is what I meant.”
“It will be great!” Martin was on a roll now. “A boy’s trip! Which to be honest I deserve after Laurel up and left me to deal with the mortals for months.”
They spent the rest of the evening in Martin’s office, which was really more of a private lounge, finishing the bottle of spirit wine. The plans for their trip came together now that it wasn’t a vague idea. He’d already been anxious for Laurel to get back home, and this just added to it. Martin needed his fix of adventure and this would be the perfect way to get it. Spending more time getting Adam out of his shell would be icing on the cake.
*******
Cooper dropped back onto the floor in the center of the sect lounge. He could feel his whole body shaking, his muscles not believing his mind when it told them the ordeal was over. The others were surrounding him in a similar state, staring into nothing and reliving the last few days. Despite the exhaustion, he had been unable to sleep when he tried for a nap, and had made his way up here to find the others already gathered. The girls had been murmuring quietly while Eric simply stared into space. Some of the novices and other initiates that had some experience with guns had also participated in the defense, but being weaker cultivators, had helped patrol the Flats rather than joining on the front lines. Even they were looking adrift.
Deciding it was time to be a good friend, Cooper flopped in the direction of Eric’s armchair. “How are you holding up?” Eric didn’t respond. He didn’t seem to even notice Cooper had spoken. Cooper slapped the younger boy’s foot in an attempt to get his attention. “Eric. How are you holding up?”
Eric jumped and stared at Cooper a moment. “Oh, um, fine I guess. I was safe inside the fort.”
The dull monotone pinged Cooper’s alarm bells. His grandfather had fought pirates in the south and had the same look whenever he mentioned it. “Yeah but you were helping treat the wounded the entire time. That’s stressful too.”
“Not as stressful as having an arm bitten off by a monster.” The venom in the response stumped Cooper and silenced the low conversations in the rest of the room. The girls stopped their own discussion and refocused. But instead of Gabrielle’s brash style it was Helene who spoke up.
“It was horrible. I’m afraid to sleep later. I keep telling myself we did the right thing but it's not helping.”
The admission struck something in Eric and he stood to walk over to Helene and put his hand on her shoulder. A wave of mana came out of him and Cooper watched as her whole body relaxed.
“What was that?” Cooper was surprised enough to actually sit up, abdominals protesting.
Eric folded in on himself. “I still don’t know enough to help with anything serious with the surgeons. But when I was helping I found a way to use mana to relax people’s bodies.”
“Eric, that’s amazing,” Cooper said.
“Not that amazing. Not as good as healing a claw or bite wound. Laurel specializes in fighting with lightning and swords, and she can still heal a cut.”
Before Cooper could assuage the guilt the boy was clearly feeling, Gabrielle blew a loud raspberry. The entire room startled. Cooper felt a giggle bubbling up and out of his throat before he slapped his hand across his mouth. All of a sudden the whole room was roaring with laughter. He laughed so hard he cried, then kept crying until the laughter came back around. Eventually everyone calmed back down, only the occasional giggle echoing out between the gasping breaths. Gabrielle was not done, and she stood in the center of the room, looking out over the rest of the former combatants.
“Look. Martin and Laurel, and Devon I guess, they’re all super old. They had decades to go on adventures and learn how to fight or heal or do whatever it is they do. You have to stop comparing yourselves to them. They’re goals, not peers. We successfully defended the city. That’s fucking amazing. Eric learned an external healing technique. That’s amazing too. Right now it's time to celebrate. And then we work hard, and get stronger so that the next time a beast wave comes we can do even more.”
