Orphan at the Edge of the World 70 Crystal Cage 8

Orison sat awake on the other bed in the room. His talk with Duran through a good portion of the night had lasted til close to fourth bell but after around four hours of sleep he was fully awake and refreshed. Determined to let the boy rest for as long as Duran could, Orison ordered breakfast and contemplated the derailed conversation that had started with his two simple questions.

As they laid in Orison's bed and stared at the ceiling, it had taken Duren hours to mostly express himself but he did have regrets. It wasn't so much that the boy wasn't appreciative, he was. If anything, Orison was kind of worried that the lion's share of the reason Duran had relapsed so extremely was due to the pressure he put on himself living up to what he perceived Orison's expectations to be. In all the ways Medea had helped Duran, the old woman had impressed a little too strongly the debt she thought the boy owed him.

At the time that Orison had helped Duran become a climber, it had been done with a clear heart and mind. What it had ultimately ended up costing him, had driven a dark thorn into those feelings of altruism. Medea's enthusiasm in securing Duran as a loyal follower had managed to push the scales in Orison's heart to favor guilt over resentment. It wouldn't have surprised the young mage if the wily old bat had anticipated some of Duran's complication causing issues and done it with that purpose in mind. She was an incredibly insightful woman.

When Medea came up, Orison brought out all the questions he had been meaning to ask but wanted to wait until time and distance had dulled things a bit. It turned out that the old woman had all but killed herself. Duran and Medea had reached Widow's Weal with little issue but the old woman wasn't content to just spin wheels over winter and had started helping out the village healer. When it came to her folksy medicine she was a bit of a quack but even the healer had admitted that Medea was more capable when it came to midwife work. It was that work which had ultimately lead to her death.

When Orison had left Medea at Obsidian Island, he didn't have much worry that she'd not be able to make the trip. No matter how healthy she started, exhaustion, cold weather and a touch of flu was a recipe for disaster in the elderly. After a difficult delivery had kept her out late into the night, tired and a little sweaty, she'd insisted on returning to the inn room with Duran. The next day she had stayed in bed and by the end of that day the healer had diagnosed her with 'wet lung'. Though the mundane healer had tried everything they could, Medea didn't get better.

Once asked about the supplies that he had left with Duran for such an emergency, the boy grew silent again before admitting that he'd not entirely listened to Orison's instructions. He had handed them over to Medea to manage. Holding such powerful healing in her hand, the old woman had judiciously administered it in her travels with the intentions of holding an accounting of them with Orison after they met back up. As much as he wanted to rant about it, Orison knew all too well how hard it was to ignore those in need when you could help. As far as the young mage was concerned, it was the old woman's call to make and respected her sacrifice.

Late into the night of her first day being bedridden, Medea must have sensed the shadow of death because she had a long talk with Duran, preparing him for the worst and letting him know what she wanted if she passed. As was obsidian elf custom, Duran had her cremated and slowly started going a little off the rails until the early thaw. Despite warnings not to, Duran had attempted the pass and got caught in the following blizzard.

Somehow Wick, the tree inside of him, managed to keep him going but Duran had pulled too much of his potential out in the process, turning the world against him. The young mage wondered what the core nature of Duran's key was that had threatened the world so badly but he couldn't quite answer that question even about himself and had no hope of Duran being able to explain. Thinking of what little of Duran's mysteries as he knew didn't hep him overly much beyond having a vague idea but it did get Orison thinking about Wick.

The young mage pointed out to Duran that the boy was never truly alone. Wick was with him. The revelation seemed to take Duran a great deal more by surprise than Orison thought it warranted. As much as the boy and tree communicated on a spiritual level, Duran had never closed the gap in seeing Wick as anything other than a tree for all that it was obviously much more. After a few hazy ripples of weak spiritual energy bounced off Orison as Duran clumsily communed with the tree, a huge weight lifted off Duran and all Orison could get out of the boy before Duran passed out was the first wide and carefree smile the young mage had ever seen on the boy.

***

While enjoying his breakfast, Orison noticed that two hidden and an overtly suspicious person were slowly getting closer to him. He sighed inwardly. The young mage knew that sticking around in Sek after spooking Emir would bring him problems but he didn't think the alchemy instructor would be so bold as to send assassins into the inn first thing in the morning. After scribbling an 'I see you' note on a napkin and driving a fork through it into the table, Orison left an extra gold tip and quickly made his way back to the room while trying to project confidence and lack of worry he was very much feeling.

Snatching their packs, Orison woke Duran up and told him to get ready as quickly as possible. While the boy scrambled to gear up, Orison had been constructing the beacon teleport model in his space. As soon as the young mage sensed the first life signature sliding close to them behind a false faced wall, he pulled out the only other piece of equipment he'd found in the lady's apartments. The simple sword with decent boosts to strength and defense on it didn't exactly slide through fake limestone drywall and the spine of an assassin via stomach like butter but it got the job done.

Handing the bloody tipped blade to Duran, Orison summoned a sprite to finish the job and steal all the assassin's inventory. Before the young mage could determine the fate of the assassin's crystal spark, the purified crystal spark from the great construct made quick work of locking it in place and started eroding models from it. With two brighter life signatures closing in on the room, Orison put a hand on Duran's shoulder and teleported to the Sek transporter. Not wasting a second, he paid for the two of them and flashed away to Auma.

The young mage turned to Duran and said, "Sek is off limits for awhile. Sorry about your mining instruction period but I have a spot of good news. Out of all the trainings to skip on, gathering ones are the least problematic."

The boy shrugged.

"Do you still think you'll have trouble sleeping? We can see a healer and take a few days before we go to your guardian instructor." Orison said.

Duran shook his head but right before Orison suggested they get the training over with, the boy said, "Warn them?"

Orison almost said it wasn't necessary but he didn't really know how good Emir's network was or how far the alchemist instructor was willing to go. After finding a secluded corner, Orison changed into the outfit from the lady's apartments and donned the mask. After using his drone to make some cosmetic changes to Duran's outfit and handing the boy a cloak from his growing pile of mundane garbage, the young mage was ready to go find Gan and Rithus.

Several mercifully free teleports to outlier villages and most of a day gone, Orison hadn't manage to run into either of them but had left messages at each of their instructors' offices. He could have found them if he wanted but trudging around the plains of Thoth would be a huge waste of time. Knowing that out there somewhere Rithus was probably placidly picking wild cotton during breaks in his elementalist instruction filled him with a guilty sense of horrified ironic humor. It outright tickled him that Gan was out there following behind a mercenary group dismantling their kills when the scout would much rather be killing things with them.

With little of importance to worry about until one or the other returned and got his note, Orison dragged Duran to go see Mylar. When he walked into the instructor's classroom, the young mage noticed a few big changes. Everything was clean and there were a handful of young and old Children in vigorous discussion as Mylar jotted down notes at his desk. Upon seeing the surprise visitors, conversation died and Mylar immediately looked worried before hearing the familiar voice greeting him from behind the mask.

The middle-aged elementalist said, "What brings you back so soon Mr. Cantrip? No matter how fast you meet the other prerequisites, it's not possible to use a trainer any faster than once a month."

Orison huffed expressively, "The alchemist instructor is an absolute piece of garbage and even sent an assassin after me for just looking at his record. I was back in this gray waste to give a heads up to my other friends. Since it was so close to end of business day, I thought I'd drop in and see how you were doing. Is there any advice you could give me on it? I'll throw in a meal and some drinks if you've got the time."

Mylar frown contemplatively, "He's known to have quite the ego and there's been little anyone can do about his Sek sanctioned hoarding of Chosen alchemists. But assassination over a little spat with a new Chosen, it wouldn't be worth it."

Orison shook his head, "Who knows why irrationally self-important people actually do what they do."

"If you're looking for a person with connections to help you solve problems with Emir or looking for an alternate route to obtaining certification for alchemy, you'd be better off going to Daub. Mo rubs elbows with retired Chosen all the time and the Children ran alchemy association there can certify you if you're capable of demonstrating your skills with their equipment," Mylar offered.

The young mage chuckled, "How much is a good dinner and a decent bottle of whatever you prefer run?"

Under whatever stimulus Mylar's imagination was creating the older gentleman swallowed a mouthful of saliva and said, "A little out of the way spot here I treat myself to on special occasions will hit my account around ten gold."

Orison held the back of his wrist out in the customary transfer signal. Once Mylar mimicked him, Orison transferred 100. "Take your new friends and their students with you. A good meal and drinks taste better when you have company and I'm apparently going to Daub."

Unfortunately for the dirt poor elementalist, the two old men had been eavesdropping the whole time and weren't likely to let him slide on the offered treat. As Orison walked away with his companion in tow he came to realize that without his companions, the 'taste' of his misadventures in this crystal cage would be quite bitter indeed. A good deal of his courage and ability to endure the challenges he faced were directly related to their presence. When the time came for them to part ways, however long or short that might be, the young mage wondered how he'd deal with it.

Two more flashes of light later and Orison made his way to Daub's second best inn. After getting the yawning Duran squared away in the luxurious tree house next to the archer's courtyard, the young mage went to see Mo at his personal home not too far past the edges of the druid beginner zone. Opening the door after an erratic knock, Mo looked pleasantly surprised to see Orison. His sensitivity to life patterns made mundane disguises like a mask worthless.

Inviting him in, the druid instructor said, "Did you possibly come by to see how your ranger hopeful friend took to my course?"

Taking off his mask, Orison said, "I wish it was for something that pleasant. I'm certainly interested in hearing if anything funny happened. I could use a little humor to lighten my mood."

Mo offered a seat and asked for details. For his part, Orison relayed his unpleasant exchange with Emir and the next morning assassin issue.

The druid looked at Orison in horror and said, "That could have been a striker trainee in that wall! It might be an uncomfortable fact but adventurers and strikers have need of some fairly unsavory practices to learn and advance their beginning skills and abilities. It's mostly harmless."

Orison frowned and looked through the assassin's belongings. They weren't the possessions of a beginner, not even a rich one. Sifting through, Orison managed to find the most damning piece of evidence. It was a letter requesting the young mage's abduction and promise of payment was too high to just be a casual request. He had no doubts that the penmanship wouldn't match Emir's even if the alchemist instructor was the one behind it and there was no one else the young mage could think of that would have just cause or motivation.

Mo frowned after he finished reading through it. "I can bring this to a few people's attention. It will keep you from being charged with murder at least. That's assuming the life signature on the curse seal matches the one who died. Not a bright one to be physically carrying it instead of storing it in their inventory but some people are superstitious about putting cursed items in there."

Orison asked, "Why the curse seal?"

Mo said, "It's a long and ugly story but the short version is it's a way to keep strikers who take up such criminal activities from blackmailing the requester or selling them out to the intended victim."

"Is there any way for your contacts to give Emir trouble? What would it take to get enough voices that matter to get him and his family ousted from being able to be instructors?" the young mage asked.

The druid thought about it and said, "In truth, the Ghanem family and their associated business dealings have traditionally been ran well and knew where the line was, so to speak. They don't disrupt the channels that matter and that's all the powerful care about. If you're asking them to step into common affairs, they'll need some reason and that reason means benefits. If, I might be direct, that kind of benefits we're talking about are well above the worth of what you want."

Orison said, "I'm a petty and spiteful person. I put a high price tag on revenge... How about this? I know that Fortune is currently experiencing an energy decline in its surrounding area. Would giving these people insider information on how low it will get and for how long before it recovers be enough to get them to exercise some moral outrage?"

Mo looked at Orison oddly before he said, "That would require verification and evidence to be considered of value to most. Aside from directly bringing you to their attention, which wouldn't be a good thing for you, how could you provide it?"

The young mage went through what he could remember of the projected values of 'available environmental saturation' he had seen in the core of the construct while he was repairing things in there and wrote down what he could remember.

Orison handed the sheet to Mo and said, "People can lie but numbers don't. In about a week Fortune won't be able to hide the phenomenon from the public anymore. I don't know how these numbers will correlate with whatever equipment will be used but they'll consistently pace with them. In a little over a month, the deprivation will reach a level where transporter services will be disrupted but it will only last for around a couple of days. After that, the energy level will slowly start rising again and be somewhere just slightly lower than it is now about three weeks after that."

Mo looked over the sheet and said, "You know if your name gets attached to this you'll have much greater problems than a rich scion wanting to hunt you down." Orison smiled benevolently at the druid and replied, "That's why I'm filtering it to them through you. What's a small secret like this in comparison to the larger one we've already shared."

The druid laughed. "No need for subtle threats of mutual destruction. I just can't promise that there won't be 'some' interest and I need a little help in figuring out where to direct it."

Orison shook his head. "There's no need to redirect it elsewhere. That information came from the great construct under Fortune where I failed at the triangle room just like others who came before me but unlike those, I shared my concerns for the decline of artificers and also shared my concern for the state of Thoth. The artificial intelligence had a response to that and wanted to remind the royalty of Fortune the agreement their ancestors had with the creator of the testing construct.

"Maybe someone will have questions for me but so what? I don't have any more information to share outside of the construct possibly relaxing guidelines for choosing a new successor but why would that matter to me? I've already been disqualified."

Mo said, "I have a truth stone and a crystal recorder. Let's get this down as best we can to conceal what you don't want known and present you in the most ignorant way possible. It's fair to get a little something out of it, though. How about another discovery accommodation?"

Orison gave a genuine smile and said, "Works for me. I'll keep the lid on it until your buddies have milked it for all it's worth of course."

After Mo finished expressing his delight in working with such a bright young man they formulated an 'interrogation' that expressed exactly what they wanted the world to see Orison as, a slightly exceptional and lucky individual whose heart was bigger than his common sense.

Chapter end