Chương 15: Valindra - The Gardens

The gardens around Hyland Manor were silent, save for the occasional rustling of a bush. The moon hung high overhead, covering the vacant grounds in its pale light. Despite the overcast sky, the few stars that broke through the clouds brought everything to life. Hedges spanned the borders of the garden, neatly trimmed into perfect cubes. A dozen different kinds of flowers bloomed along the walkway. Giant, conical blue flowers opened up, glowing a deep aquamarine as Valindra passed them.

They smelled of the ocean, of fresh breezes and soft memories. She followed the same path she had followed for years, keeping close to the edges, only cutting across the open sections of grass when absolutely necessary. A guard sneezed to her right, and Valindra froze. The woman was dressed in the standard gold and blue uniform of the Hyland House, rubbing her eyes and unfolding a handkerchief from her back pocket. She sneezed again, and played the handkerchief like a trumpet as she blew her nose.

There was no reason Valindra had to sneak around. She could step right out of her hiding spot and dismiss the guard, and no one would say or think anything of it. But she clutched an old book close to her chest, a secret to all but her and her closest friends. So she crouched down and waited for the guard to walk off. Once clear, she sprinted through the rest of the garden, only stopping when she passed an old iron gate and dirt spread beneath her toes instead of grass.

No one ever ventured into this section of the garden—not even the gardeners, for nothing ever grew here. Her mother had tried to bring it back to life when she was alive and had successfully grown a lone apple tree after years of trying and failing to grow anything else. But when her mother passed, the tree had died along with her. Valindra gasped for breath and sat down against the dead tree. She gazed up at the branches, which jostled quietly in the nighttime breeze. This wasn't a happy place, not necessarily.

But it was a place of privacy, and peace. Valindra closed her eyes, pictured her core, and spoke the word of command.

"Light." A ball of energy appeared above her, casting a warm glow over the gray dirt. She propped the book in her lap and blew dust off the first page she opened to, turning each one with care, mindful not to tear the ancient paper. Most of the text was indecipherable, written in a language she could only guess the meaning of. It had been too long since she'd studied from these pages. Too long since she'd had a reason to. For months she wallowed in self-pity, neglecting her studies and training.

There had been no way out for her. She was destined to stay in Highview like her father had been. But now? The pulse. Roland's words. Rumors of a black tower forming in the Wilds. This was how she'd make a name for herself. Roland had gifted her the book years ago—his way of sweetening the pot, of persuading Baron Hyland toward further guild expansion. Her father thought nothing of it, assuming it to be no more than an old textbook. But it was how she'd attuned to her core.

The breathing exercises, the visualizations, and the words of power in this book were ancient. It came from an old school of magical thought that even their Court Wizard Sevara lifted her nose at. It taught that one's magical core was a neutral source of power, something moldable and easily influenced. For so many people who were able to tap into their power within, they were told that they had an affinity towards certain magic, and were sent down a path to study those forms.

If you held a close affinity to raw magic, you were deemed to be a Mage. If you had a close connection to a deity, you were given the title of Paladin or Cleric. The logic made sense, at least. By channeling your core and visualizing your power, the words were often chosen for you. Valindra closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The words came to her in her mind's eye. [Valindra Hyland] [Cleric] Abilities: [Light]: Summon a sphere of magical light. [Minor Healing]: Knit together minor wounds with magical threads.

[Gistel's Clarity]: Channel mana into an object to gain an understanding of it. [Harden]: Channel mana into an object to increase its strength. Cleric. The title had been given to her by the magical energy flowing through her. But this book taught that the title only came from what your core resonated with at the time. One could learn any school of magic, and change their fate by doing so. It just so happened to be that the magic she was most interested in belonged to a deity.

She found the page she was looking for: Offerings of Gistel. The name of an old, forgotten god—the ancient God of Light. This book was the only place she'd ever found his name written down at all. The words here were written in an ancient derivative of the common tongue—understandable, given enough time and patience. This section of the book contained fifty-some pages dedicated to Gistel, filled with detailed drawings of techniques and instructions for how to visualize one's own core.

Valindra closed her eyes again and summoned the mental image of a garden—part of the reason she came out here instead of practicing in her own rooms. A swath of roses and flowers filled her mind's eye. She inhaled, pulling the latent mana from the air into her lungs, and down into her core. Her mental garden bloomed, power filling her. She plucked a flower from it, exhaled, and channeled the mana into the book—one of the first techniques it had ever taught her.

[Gistel's Clarity: Channel mana into an object to gain an understanding of it.] The technique was meant for identifying artifacts and magical items, but she'd found it worked just as well on books. She didn't suddenly understand the old language, but she could infer meaning well enough. She flipped ahead, to the list of spells she'd need before she could feel comfortable even considering leaving the capital. She lacked any real offensive capability. These would change that.

[Gistel's Whip]: Summon forth a whip of pure radiance to drive back a foe. [Gistel's Hammer]: A weapon of pure light. Weightless to its bearer, but weighs a ton to anyone else. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. [Gistel's Stars]: Summon forth the stars above to do your bidding—a storm of light projectiles to pelt your foes. Valindra took a deep breath, and got to work.

"You look exhausted," her father said.

"Did you not sleep well last night?" Valindra sat back, looking down at the sad breakfast in front of her: a swath of runny eggs, hash browns, and sausage. She picked at all of it, not in the mood for the same meal she had every morning.

"I slept fine." He nodded, unconvinced.

"Look alive. There is a lot to be done today. I'm putting you in charge of dealing with Roland." She blinked.

"What? Why me?" Her father set his jaw and looked away.

"I have no desire to speak with the worm this morning. The Guild wants more money, to empty our coffers yet again." He waved a hand.

"The crown's given him enough already. Highview's given him enough."

"The world is changing, Father."

"Please, don't remind me. I am only disappointed that I must live to see society wither." He set down his fork.

"Day by day the merchant class grows in strength. The Adventurer's Guild, the banks, the constant stream of oddity salesmen that flood our streets. I grow tired of it all."

"The Adventurers Guild isn't a merchant class—" He laughed, waving her off.

"Come now. I didn't raise you to be stupid. What is the Guild, if not a merchant selling dreams to children and hauling back treasure to fill its own coffers? They are merchants, merchants of death and disorder. I fear that the days of nobility are short lived. But if I have a say in it, not until the end of our lifetimes." Her father set his fork down.

"Go to Roland. Deny him everything. Ignore his lies." She took a bite of sausage and pushed the plate away.

"When?"

"In an hour. You'll meet him at the guild hall."

"Doesn't he normally come here?" Her father laughed.

"You see the problem already, don't you?" Valindra stood, letting her chair grind against the floor. She shook her head, and walked out of the dining hall. Her father called after her.

"Kara is waiting for you." Sure enough, her father's champion stood outside the keep, dressed in her fighting leathers, one hand resting on her sword hilt. She smiled.

"Up late?"

"I don't want to talk about it." Kara laughed.

"Suit yourself." Valindra walked through the heavily guarded walkways of the keep and into Highview's upper quarter, Kara trailing behind, telling jokes and prodding at her incessantly. It wasn't Kara's fault that she worked for Valindra's father. Valindra had no need to take it out on the woman. But she did anyway. The Adventurers Guild sat at the midpoint of the city, next to the market stalls and rows of bustling inns. The guild hall was nearly as grand as the keep itself.

Four stories tall, the building was built with expertly carved marble blocks—with four tall pillars at its entrance. Each pillar depicted intricate scenes of dragons, krakens, wolfmen, and numerous other foes that humanity had fought off for generations. Stained glass windows pictured the founders of the Guild—the youthful faces of those long dead, but whose trials were still sung, immortalized in glass. Kara and Valindra approached the tall oak doors, and the guards pulled them open.

"My lady," one said, dipping his head. Valindra frowned, never quite comfortable with the address. Inside, if not for the quest boards and sweaty adventurers lining the floors, one could easily mistake the place for a bank. Stalls ran the length of the hall; adventurers queued at each, waiting on clerks. Valindra scanned a few of the boards near the entrance.

[Goblin Infestation - Southern Cave Bridge] Reward: 40 Gold [Troll Blocking Northern Pass] Reward: 120 Gold [Wraiths Haunting Abandoned Ship] Reward: 85 Gold Kara sidled up behind her and scoffed, pointing at a smaller notice pinned near the bottom. [Lost Pet - Rat] Reward: 1 Gold.

"Poor woman," Valindra said.

"Who keeps rats as pets?"

"Have you ever seen a rat?" Kara said, mock-offended.

"The non-giant ones, I mean. The small ones are cuddly. Cute." Valindra shook her head, never quite sure what to make of the woman.

"I hadn't expected to see you here," Roland Foss said, voice echoing across the room. He moved forward, his frail form carrying him with unexpected swiftness.

"Has your father grown so tired of talking to me?"

"He sent me in his place. He's in a bad mood this morning." Roland grinned.

"Best for both of us, honestly. I don't much look forward to his company, either." He opened his arms and embraced her before she could object.

"Nothing to be done about that now, is there? Come to my office. We can discuss things properly." Kara moved to follow, and Valindra waved her off.

"I can handle this on my own." Kara laughed.

"Explicit orders from the Baron. I'm to supervise everything. Make sure nothing goes wrong."

"What could possibly go wrong?"

"I don't ask questions," Kara said.

"I just do as I'm told." They walked down the long corridor together, rising up a set of stairs at the back of the hall, and into Roland's office. The place was a gaudy nightmare. Gold trim, heavy wooden floors, a desk larger than most people's beds. A well-groomed assistant stood at the back of the room, who bowed his head. Roland took his seat.

"If you're here to negotiate, I assume your father's already briefed you on the terms of our arrangement? Saves us re-explaining everything."

"To be quite frank," Valindra said, "my father explicitly told me to say no to whatever you ask." Roland laughed.

"Of course he did." He leaned in, voice dropping to a not-quite whisper.

"Have you kept up your studies?"

"Of course," she said.

"Good." He straightened.

"Reports have come back from our people far to the south. Our high mages have traced the pulse. It came from the Wilds, near an old settlement called Ash Ridge. Have you heard of it?""'The Beating Heart of the Wilds,'" Valindra said, addressing it by its old title.

"Not much of a town anymore, though, is it?"

"Not so much anymore, but it used to be a force to be reckoned with. Back before we'd cleared the hills of goblins, and sent the beastmen fleeing to the south. The town still stands, technically. Mostly unoccupied now, too far out to see much traffic. What quests remain there tend to be low-ranked pest cleanup."

"And what does Ash Ridge have to do with us?" Roland spread his hands.

"The town is in shambles, and just so happens to be the closest settlement to the source of that pulse the other day. A dungeon, from what we can tell. A tower tall enough to be seen from miles and miles away." Valindra slowly nodded.

"Ash Ridge is going to be our new base of operations while we tackle the perhaps demonic incursion. The Dawnbreakers leave by the end of the week, but lower-level adventuring parties have already left in droves ahead of them. The town must be strengthened, and that jurisdiction falls onto your father, by the King's own order."

"And how much will this cost?" Roland's assistant handed him a sheet of paper, and he passed it to her.

"Twenty thousand gold. Minimum."

"Doesn't the Guild have its own coffers for this?" He laughed.

"You really are your father's daughter. He said the very same thing." Roland stood and walked to the back of the room to peer out the wide glass windows.

"We pay our taxes. Pay your father's fees. It is your duty as rulers of this city and the land to the south, to keep your people safe. The people who live in Ash Ridge are people who live beneath the crown. Or do you not believe that they are your responsibility?" Valindra hesitated, and Kara shrugged.

"He has a point."

"Unfortunately," Valindra said, "as much as I agree this might be needed, I wasn't given the authority to approve or deny anything." Roland's brow rose.

"Is that so?"

"I agree it's needed, though. I'll bring word to my father, and will see what I can do to convince him. My apologies for wasting your time." Roland spread his arms and smiled.

"No need to apologize. This conversation's already been more productive than any I've had with the Baron in months." They rose to leave. As Kara stepped out ahead of her, Roland caught Valindra's arm, holding her back just long enough for the door to close behind them.

"The book," he said.

"How far have you gotten?" She blinked.

"Not incredibly far. I haven't had much reason to practice. Until recently." He studied her a moment, something unreadable behind his eyes.

"Keep reading." He gave her a small, private smile.

"There may be opportunities here for you yet." She bowed, and made her leave.