What We Do to Survive

It had been a long day. A very, very long day. Unfortunately, it wasn’t over yet. Oaths had been sworn, agreements for payment made, and minor disagreements mostly settled. I’d been very ready to get back to my room and sleep the rest of the day away… and then Clarient had the bright idea that we should all grab dinner together to ‘celebrate the end of our disagreement’. I’d almost refused out of hand, but Miranda’s kick under the table and sharp look were enough that I’d grudgingly agreed in the end.

Thus, here I was walking into the cafeteria surrounded by, if no longer technically enemies, a group I didn’t really tend to associate with. At least Liam had decided to join us as well, so I had one person I was moderately comfortable with beside me. Walking through the halls all together had been very strange. I tended to avoid large groups whenever possible and it was strange to see the other side of that coin, lone individuals and pairs giving us furtive, sidelong glances and hurrying out of our way.

I released a long breath as we finally stepped into the safety of the cafeteria, the unmistakable presence of one of Avalon’s divine guardians falling over me like a warm blanket. As always, it was a relief to be somewhere so clearly safe and welcoming, something so otherwise alien within the walls of Avalon. I clearly wasn’t the only one that felt that way. I could see Clarient’s shoulders relax almost imperceptibly as she stepped through the doorway and Kwesta finally stopped staring at me with terrified eyes whenever she thought I wasn’t looking.

Clarient stepped forward and scanned the room before pointing to a large, empty table off to one side. “Over there,” she said authoritatively, “Cain, could you–”

“Of course, my lady. I’ll make sure our seats are not taken.” He turned to Kwesta and stared her directly in the eyes, “Two full plates, at the very least,” he ordered, “You’ll need the energy to recover properly.”

She nodded shakily, still somewhat unsteady on her feet, “Okay,”

“I’ll make sure she behaves,” Clarient cut in. She lay her hand on Kwesta’s shoulder, steadying her. “Cain knows what he’s talking about,” she told her friend.

I watched the exchange in silence, then followed Liam’s lead in heading towards the bustling buffet that stood against the far wall. Miranda trailed after me and I reminded myself to make sure she ate as well. She had a poor tendency to serve herself very little food whenever we ate together, and I couldn’t have one of my most valuable subordinates starving herself.

Liam slowed down until we were walking side by side, then turned to me with a small smile, “Well done, I know that's not exactly your strong suit but you did a good job. Negotiations are all about compromise, and I think you both walked out of that room content with what you got.”

“Thanks,” I responded honestly. “I really appreciate your assistance. I can’t imagine it would have gone half as smoothly without you there.”

“Maybe. I’m sure you could have managed, but sometimes it's right to look to others for help outside your speciality. That's what Avalon is all about, after all. A way for the world's greatest mages to collaborate and share knowledge without fear of betrayal.”

I nodded slowly, not fully in agreement with his assessment, but unwilling to argue. Maybe he was right, but I was still a third year and it would be a long time until I saw that part of Avalon. Well, that wasn’t completely true, was it? Even as students, we could use Avalon as an intermediary to exchange for goods and services impossible to obtain in the wider world. I nodded again. “I think I understand.”

“You’re good Orion, very good even, but you can’t be good at everything. Trying will just stretch you thin until you break. There’s a reason they make students specialize in later years. ” He patted my shoulder, “But you don’t have to worry about that till the end of next year. For now, just remember that sometimes it's best to seek out an expert.”

With that cryptic remark, he grabbed a plate and stepped away, disappearing into the crowd of students trying to get their food. I silently passed Miranda a set of cutlery and a large plate, then grabbed some for myself. I wasn’t particularly familiar with the food today, dishes of brightly colored meats and sauces served alongside wide trenchers filled with cooked grains and noodles, but it smelled amazing and I cheerfully served myself a plate heaped with a bit of everything. Miranda tried to be much more conservative with her portions, but I caught her wrist and made sure she filled her plate.

“Eat,” I ordered, “properly.” She nodded and added another scoop to her plate. I smiled in amusement and patted her on the shoulder as well, “You did well today. You’re past due for a reward, we can talk about it later.”

I sat down across from Clarient, who was already at the table waiting for us with her food. She, Cain, and Liam were discussing the intricacies of certain higher-circle healing spells and I happily joined in, listening attentively and adding my own two pieces when I felt it was appropriate. Despite my reservations, it went rather well and we parted ways on much better terms than we had met under. Nothing important was discussed, but I liked it that way.

A cloaked figure walked briskly through the bustling city streets, weaving effortlessly between carts and pedestrians. Soon, the crowds dwindled, storefronts turned from gaudy displays behind thick glass to rough stone and signs with cracking paint, and the constant hubbub of voices faded into the distance. The figure slowed down, looking around the decrepit street until their eyes fell on a simple wooden sign hanging crookedly at the edge of a dark alleyway.

They turned off the main road, stepping easily around a slumped man leaning drunkenly against a hard wall, and slipped into the alley. Despite the bright sunlight shining overhead, the alleyway was dark and shaded, deep shadows cast by tall buildings plunging the narrow passage into a perpetual gloom. The figure glanced around, then approached the solid wooden door on one side of the alleyway over which a torch flickered faintly. They knocked once, waited a moment, then knocked three times quickly and twisted the torch halfway around in its sconce. The door opened silently and the figure stepped inside. The door slammed shut behind them.

Brenda pushed the cowl of her cloak back and shook her head, brushing her fingers through her long hair to return it to some semblance of order. She hated wearing that old thing, but her mom told her she had to wear it whenever she was outside a good set of wards. She wasn’t certain that this… tavern qualified, but she had felt the thick shroud of mana part around her when she stepped through the door, and that tended to mean a place had the good kind of wards her mom would approve of.

Looking around, she found the tavern’s few occupance staring at her with undisguised interest. She smiled brightly back at them and wandered over to the counter, taking a seat on one of the tall stools at the bar. “Something fruity and sweet,” she told the older woman behind the counter.

“You got cash, girly?” the woman half growled. Her expression took an immediate shift when Brenda dug into a pocket inside her cloak and then slid a single silvery bar of metal the size of her pointer finger across the counter.

“I’ll be opening a tab,” she said with a grin.

The old woman snatched the bar off the table and sniffed it, then dug out a metal ring from under the counter and slid it across the bar. The small crystals that lined the brass ring lit up one after another as the bar passed under them, until the entire ring was glowing. The old woman shook her head, then hid both the bar and the ring under the table. “You got it, girly. Not exactly a speciality, but I think I’ve got something you’ll like.”

“Surprise me!” Brenda said cheerfully. “I’m just waiting on some associates.” She looked over towards the door and a look of murderous displeasure flashed across her face. “They’re late.”

A minute later, a long stemmed glass filled with a light pink drink slid in front of her, a thin slice of deep red fruit floating at the center of it. Brenda took a long sip and let out a pleased hum. It was wonderfully sweet, so much so that she could barely taste the alcohol, but also cold and refreshing.

“I like it!” she exclaimed.

Taking another sip, Brenda glanced over at the door just in time to see it swing open, allowing a trio of men to enter the building. Despite their near identical brown outfits, the three could not have been more different. At the front of the group strode a slim, well built man with a small mustache and a sharp goatee. He wore his long hair pulled back in a high ponytail, held in place by a gold hoop set with small stones.

Behind him was a near-giant, tall enough that he’d been forced to stoop to get through the doorway. He must have been at least seven feet tall, and built more like a troll than a man. A heavy club, as thick around as a man’s thigh and as long as a sword hung from his belt and bounced slightly with each ponderous step as though it weighed nothing.

The final man was slender as well, slightly shorter than the leader and much less muscular. He wore glasses, a rarity outside nobles and academic institutions, and looked more like a scholar than a thug. Still, there was a certain confidence in the way he moved that spoke of danger and experience.

Brenda waved cheerfully at the trio, “Over here!” she called out loudly, gesturing to the other stools at the bar.

They exchanged glances, the leader conferring with the glasses-wearing man in a whisper, and then walked confidently over. “Are you ‘Whitebird’?,” the leader asked quietly.

“Sure am, thanks for coming. You’re late.”

He shrugged his shoulders and sat down, “Guard patrols are up these past weeks. Can’t be too careful.”

She stared at him for a moment, then took another sip of her drink, “It’s fine. Things happen.” Her eyes turned cold and a hint of warning dripped into her voice, “Don’t let it happen again, okay?”

“Of course, ma’am,” he replied after a moment, “we’re professionals.”

“Great, then I think we will get along nicely.” She turned towards the woman behind the bar, who was cleaning glasses off to the side. “A round for these fine gentlemen please.”

She waited until the men were served, nibbling at her fruit between sips, then dug a silver disk out of her robe and slapped it on the bar. A translucent dome shimmering with rainbow colors sprang up around the four of them, badly startling the leader sitting beside her. He jerked his hand towards her, only for it to bounce off an invisible barrier several inches away from her cloak. “Careful there, wouldn’t want to do anything silly. It's just something to make sure we aren’t overheard.”

He retracted his hand, rubbing his knuckles and eyeing her wearily. “Sorry ‘bout that. Startled me.”

“No harm done.”

“Right to business then?”

“Yep. Time's a-ticking!”

“What’ve you got for us, then. Ludwig just said you needed some muscle. Don’t look like you ah, in need of our protection, so what will it be?”

Brenda’s smile turned nasty, “There’s a dumb bitch in need of a lesson in manners. I’d like you to teach it.”

“Who’s the target?”

“Just some merchant girl, I have her name, a picture, and an address.”

He nodded along, “That should be enough to find her. What about the lesson?”

“Nonlethal, I think, but make it last. Make it hurt. Break her, and tell her that's what whores who try to reach above their station get.” Brenda dug into her cloak again and withdrew a folded sheet of paper that she passed to the man beside her. Then she focused and an illusionary image formed above her hand. It was a tall, long legged blonde with blue eyes and a bright smile.

“That her?”

“Yep!”

“I think we can make it work. Timeframe?”

She tilted her head to the side, humming thoughtfully. “Take the time to do it right. If it's not done in two weeks, I’ll check in with Ludwig.”

“Reasonable enough. Payment?”

“Ludwig will take care of it.”

“Of course.” They shook hands, “Good doing business with you ma’am.”

“Likewise. I look forward to seeing your handiwork.”

He threw back the rest of his drink and stood up as Brenda pocketed the silencer they’d been using. “Let’s go lads, we’ve got work to do.”

Brenda stayed in her seat, popping the last of the fruit in her mouth to suck on. “Another one please,” she called out to the barwoman, “something… blue this time.”