It would be easier if I could use some Aeromancy, too. Of course, only one of the Six Schools could be attempted at a time, since that alone required the full power of one’s soul.
But as the fire raged in Fionn’s heart, it seemed large enough to hold more than one spell at a time. It was a common mistake among novice mages: overestimating their own strength. From many past experiences back at the Academy, Fionn knew well that even attempting to split his power in such a way would be a waste of effort.
He turned his attention back to the flame, now losing its movement and slowly becoming a motionless mass of heat.
The fire in Fionn’s heart reacted the same way, calming, quenching, fading….
But something else did not fade. Deep within, there was something separate: a second set of embers, never touched by his soul.
Fionn furrowed his brow. He had never felt those other sparks before the incident with the troll. But back when he first showed his Pyromantic abilities to Conleth, they had been there, lying dormant.
Cautiously, the mage turned his attention towards the new sparks. He pushed his power against them, and they too ignited, as if part of his own being.
Wait, said Sir Bearach. I felt that. What did you—
“Stop,” said Seán abruptly. “I’ve seen enough.”
Fionn let go of the two flames in his heart, and the fire before him vanished. Seán was standing now and looking at something over Fionn’s shoulder.
“Someone’s at the door,” he said. The red mage turned to look back toward the hall door at the opposite end of the kitchen. If there had been a knock, it certainly hadn’t been very loud.
But Earthmaster Seán bounded towards the door with more urgency than Fionn thought necessary for an unexpected visitor. He watched as Seán opened the front door, waiting to hear him greet whoever had called.
After a moment’s silence, Seán quickly bent down towards the ground.
Conleth’s bedroom door halfway down the hall opened, and the Firemaster stepped out into the hall, discoloured robes trailing behind him.
“Seán,” he said, his voice wearier than usual. “Was there someone at the door?”
“No,” said the Earthmaster. He slammed the door shut and turned to face Conleth, keeping one hand hidden behind his back. “It must have been the wind.”
“Curse the wind, then,” said Conleth with a yawn. “I was having the most wonderful dream. I was standing at the peak of—”
“I must leave,” said Seán. “I have urgent work for the Triad to attend to.”
The door to the tenement building opened and shut before Conleth had a chance to respond. With Seán gone, Conleth sighed and began making his way back to his bedroom.
“What was that all about?” called Fionn from the kitchen. A second distraction from his work would be as welcome as the first.
“Nothing,” said Conleth. “Just Seán being as strange as he always is. I tell you, with the amount of time he spends with those rats, I’m surprised he hasn’t turned into one yet. Though, between the stench of his breath and the hair on his face, he could easily for one already.”
Chapter 13:
Seven Stags
Humans live with the belief that everything in life happens for a reason, or “Under the Light of the Lady,” as the Church puts it. This worldview takes on the assumption that all of one’s choices have been determined before they were made, which seems wholly illogical to those who favour reason. Even more absurd is the Human concept of luck. We Simians would equate luck with chance, chaos, or stochasticity. The random events that make up life can be fortuitous or tragic. Good luck or bad luck. However, if these actions have been destined since Creation, then why do some Humans hang horse-hoofs over their bed, or avoid eating hog’s meat at night? How could one attempt to influence what fate has already decided?
Excerpt from A Hundred and One Logical Fallacies Concerning the Trinity, Volume Four, by Samuel the Iconoclast.
***
Argyll the Silverback remained motionless as Garth relayed the details of his skirmishes into the Clifflands. The old Simian’s eyes seemed to stare through the scout as he spoke, and Farris couldn’t help but wonder how his brother kept a calm composure under that gaze.
He’s getting better at this. He’s become almost as good as I was back then.
Back then they wouldn’t have shared a meeting as important as this with a Human. Ruairí sat next to Farris, sharing one of the more wood-rotted benches of The White Rose—a small brothel deep in the Dustworks. Nicole and Garth were on either side of the Silverback; Argyll sat forward with one arm on the table, twisted to face Garth for the duration of the report.
Farris considered the party for a moment. A scout, a thief, an engineer, and a fanatic. If the Silverback chose to assemble a team eclectic enough to inspire a bard’s song, he had done a pretty good job.
But for capitulating a dynasty descended from a God, headed by an invincible king... we could do with more muscle.
When Garth finished, Argyll waited a moment before responding. He’d always done this, even back when he ran the Guild, just to make sure there was nothing left to be said. From the way Garth’s bottom lip quivered during the silence, Farris reckoned there was indeed more to be told.
Thunder roared outside, and the pelting of rain against the tavern’s walls indicated that Autumn was well and truly passed, with the depths of winter soon to come.
“That is all?” asked Argyll. “A regiment of battlemages in Point Grey, and battalions in five of the surrounding settlements. Did you see anything else?”
“No,” said Garth. “Other than the details on their patrols I’ve already described, there is nothing more to report.”
“So, it went smoothly? You weren’t seen?”
Garth hesitated for a fraction of a breath before delivering a second “No.” Farris threw a quick glance around the table. It seemed like nobody else picked up on it.
He studied the Argyll’s face once more. It was far harder to read than his brother’s, but Farris was sure Argyll had caught Garth’s hesitation, too. The Silverback never missed anything.
“That will do,” said Argyll. He slowly turned in his seat to face Nicole. He leaned in towards her, with the same intimidating stature as before.
He didn’t even need to ask for Nicole’s progress, as she quickly began discussing the work she and Farris had been carrying out.
