Magic was 'absolutely terrifying'.
Panya definitely knew that. She had only made it two months into her course at Hoysk’s, Upartesk’s very own college for the magically inclined, before she’d had enough of being told it was though. It wasn’t because she wasn’t cut out for study or anything. It was just that she’d gotten bored very quickly.
Most of her time was spent listening to how it could go wrong. Sure, the first few lectures, she could understand. But when it got to four weeks into her course, and they were still teaching her about how easily you could accidentally kill someone by hitting them with a spell meant for dishes to wash themselves… well, they had made their point.
Magic bad, be careful. She just wished she had the guts to tell her family that she’d dropped out, now she just felt guilty every time she went to draw funds out of her bank account, all those figures steadily increasing regardless of how much she withdrew.
Thankfully she’d found an apprenticeship to a Wizard. Well, she hoped he was a Wizard anyway. Anyone who could manipulate sheet metal into a working clock must be a good enough Wizard to apprentice for, that was her logic. She was sat in his study now, poring over defensive Spells while he was away.
He was away a lot, she’d noticed.
Unbeknownst to Panya, Izmerek couldn’t believe his luck. For the longest time, he’d been trying and failing to get an adventuring group together. Every time he tried, they’d eventually tell him he ‘didn’t fit in with everyone’ or that they ‘just thought you’d be a better fit somewhere else’.
Just as he was going to give up on his dream of adventuring through wild magic-rich forests, or caverns and dungeons full of beings that had evolved to live on the rich veins of concentrated magic, he’d found Panya. Someone eager to learn and know proper magic, she’d soaked in everything he’d told her like a sponge.
Even now, he was out hunting for something small for her first kill as an adventurer. He couldn’t wait for her to Level from it, he was sure she would. He’d make her a proper Wizard, worthy of forming a team with. He knew she looked up to him, with his years of real-world experience. All he had to do was convince her that adventuring was worth the risk.
Thankfully there were plenty of mineshafts that had long been forgotten in the mountains that surrounded Upartesk. It had taken him less than an hour to get to the entrance of the one he was in now. All that time with nothing to interrupt the slow coagulation of magic in the rock walls meant he was only just finding tiny little Golems, not even a foot tall, wandering about aimlessly. He nearly gave her a useless little one until he realised it wouldn’t do much for her Level and thrown it out.
This time he was aiming for a two-footer. He’d learned a Spell that would put it to sleep long enough for a week, so he had no qualms about bringing it back into the city buried in a barrel of rock that he’d claim was for refining.
Yan felt very uncomfortable. He was in the Armory trying on a uniform. Normally he wouldn’t have had a problem with trying clothes on, but he was certain now that Sel had tactically hidden all his sizes in random closets and was using this as an excuse to get her own back for his staring yesterday.
“Hmm,” she said, her trimmed claws scratching idly at her chin, “I’m sure trousers aren’t meant to be that short. Or tight.”. She tilted her head at him, grin plastered on her face at how red Yan’s face was.
“I’ve got to say though, you are wearing the hell out of them.”
“C’mon Sel, I said I was sorry about yesterday seven times now. Please can you help me get the right kit?”
“Oh darling, I’m way past caring about yesterday, I’m just enjoying right now very much. Especially seeing a young man act so shy in front of me.”
“Come off it Sel, we’re the same age.”. She saw how honest Yan looked and took a little pity on him.
“Are you serious?” she asked, “How old do you think I am, Yan?”
“Aha, I know a trap when I see one,” he managed, grabbing an overshirt he knew was three sizes too big and fumbling through it, not content with how Sel was blatantly stealing peaks at his ass.
“No seriously, take a guess.”
“I’m going to play it safe and say nineteen,” said Yan in his infinite yet very limited wisdom of the female psyche.
“Hmph, you’re no fun,” she said, faking a pout and crossing her arms, “Just so you know though, I turn thirty-one next month, so make sure you get me something nice.”
Yan had a little trouble picking his jaw up off the floor. He’d obviously spoken to a fair few lizardpeople from his time in the forge, and he’d known that they age differently from that one time a lizardman came in: he’d looked not a day over thirty, but his scales were slightly pale. That was it. After he’d left, Yan had asked Caiwal, and the old man had told him the lizardman had come in for some light armour. Apparently elderly lizardpeople could much more easily crack and break their bones, so they opted for an exoskeleton of sorts.
“Anyway, let’s actually get your gear before Emery finds out we’ve been messing around.”
“Wait what, I haven’t been doing any messing around.”
“Well, two young singles, alone in the armoury, lots of clothes being tried on… It’s easy to get the wrong idea isn’t it,” said Sel, her grin widening as she spoke and saw Yan get progressively redder in the face.
She eventually relented and handed Yan his uniform after Viktor poked his head inside and told her someone was waiting at the front desk. Yan put it on and had a look in the mirror on the wall.
Black laced boots came up to just below his knees, his green trousers tucked in and just loose enough to actually allow him some movement beyond the awkward half-shuffling he could manage in Sel’s first choice. A button-down brown overshirt ended just below his waist, held in place with a thick leather belt that his polished wooden truncheon hung from.
She’d told him that a cuirass and helmet would have to be ordered but he’d just told her he’d get that done himself back at Caiwal’s. He had some brown leather gloves hanging out of his pocket that he knew he’d be thankful for over the coming weeks. The whole outfit went together perfectly, united in a tinge of drabness and grey that told people ‘A man in uniform is here’, but also ‘No need to pay me much attention’.
The only thing exempt from the drabness of the uniform was his Upartesk City Watch badge, gleaming in the half-light of the enchanted stones in the ceiling. It was the first time he’d had clothes that were actually chosen to fit him and not just hand-me-downs from the attic closet back at home.
The thought of home made Yan sigh, a part of him sad to leave his old life behind. Another part of him though, a part that Yan was trying not to indulge in giving conscious thought, was beaming. He had to admit it, he looked good.
He stepped out into the bullpen with bated breath, anticipating at least a comment or two from Hendrik. To his surprise, relief and confusion, the only people at the desks were a troll and a dwarf.
“Uhh, hey,” said Yan by way of greeting, his brain scrambling to remember what Sel had told him yesterday, “I, uh, assume you must be Terry and Ilda?”
“Hngh,” grunted the troll, his neck muscles visibly twisting as he turned his head to look at Yan, “I’m Terry. That’s Ilda. Partner.”. Yan nodded his head, unsure of how to respond to such stimulating conversation.
“Don’t mind Terry, he’ll warm up eventually. We just got out of the cold. So,” said Ilda, her pierced cheeks dimpling as she smiled, “You must be the new kid. Yan, right?”
“Yes, Miss,” said Yan, “pleased to meet you.”
“Ha,” she shouted out, “I haven’t been a Miss in decades. Just Ilda is fine, sweetie.”. Yan went for his signature move and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.
“Is, uh, Emery around? Sel just gave me my uniform and she told me to check in with Emery once I’m done.”
“Oh you just got it today, huh?” said Ilda, “it fits you well. Bit tight on the arms though, isn’t it?” She asked with a knowing glint in her eye.
“Oh I, uh, I mean, I can—”
“Aw, don’t stress Yan, I was just pulling your leg. My own lads were the same, they wouldn’t put their damn picks down for the first week,” she laughed, “Besides, it’ll do you some good to have a bit of a presence on the streets.”. Yan prayed for Ilda’s everlasting good health, he had felt a little dread at having to make any more changes.
“Oh and Emery’s upstairs talking to Himura.”
Yan took the steps two at a time, strolled down to Himura’s lab and hesitated for a second before knocking.
“Come in!” came a singsong voice.
In he went.
If he had the guts to do it, he would’ve marched up to Sel’s desk and demanded she see a doctor for fear of her failing eyesight. Where Yan had imagined seeing an old woman barely visible under a layer of warts, he saw a young woman probably a few years older than him.
He remembered that one time an Aristocrat had sauntered into Caiwal’s forge years ago, his retinue of hired adventurers begging him to consider a more established blacksmith. The only reason he remembered the occasion so vividly was because the Aristocrat had walked in with his daughter. Perfect bones structure, symmetrical face, that woman would have looked right at home with a crown on her head.
Himura was not that. She had a small coin-sized birthmark that was attached to her right eye, one cheek dimpled more than the other, and she a had a fullness to her face that suggested she couldn’t care less what anyone thought if she had a second helping of pudding. Even so, Yan thought she was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen.
Of course, the speed of thought meant that he thought all of this in a fraction of a second. The problem was the seconds that followed, where he forgot where he was and why he was in the same room as this woman.
“…you well. To be honest I think you probably wear it better than me.” For the second time in a day Yan found himself praying to the Gods for someone’s good health, Emery’s talking having given Yan some time to collect his thoughts.
“Hmm you might be right Emery. Hi, by the way, I’m Himura, we haven’t met yet.” She extended her hand out.
“Yan.” Yan was crying internally; he was sure she’d notice the slight sweatiness of his palm as she shook his hand.
“I thought you’d have popped in yesterday,” she said, quite unaware that she was calling him out on having avoided her yesterday. “I was sure I heard you and Sel talking.”
“Oh, uh, well, we were going to come in, but we saw some smoke leaking from the door. Sel said you were probably busy so maybe saying hello another time would’ve been best.”
“Oh, right, duh!” she said, rapping her knuckles softly against the side of her head. “My bad, I completely forgot I was embalming yesterday.”
“I find it best to not ask questions you don’t want the answers to,” interjected Emery, having seen the dual look of confusion and nausea on Yan’s face. “I take it now you’ve met everyone in the Watch?”
“Yup, I met Terry and Ilda downstairs.” Yan was finding it so much easier to talk and act and behave like not-a-weirdo when he focussed solely on Emery. “Actually, I came up here to talk to you, sir.”
“Oh, okay, what’s on your mind?”
“Well, it’s about the cuirass and helmet sir. Sel said I had to get some made but I thought it’d be better to just make them myself. Save on unnecessary cost and all that.”
Emery took a minute to consider this, while Yan pretended to be enthralled by the bottles of solutions that ran along one wall. Himura had long since got back to attending to a small pewter cauldron on a work bench, but Yan was scared shitless that he’d end up doing to Himura what he’d done to Sel.
“I’ll tell you what,” said Emery finally, “you can make them yourself, but if I say they’re not good enough then you’ll have to get them made. If you do a good enough job though, you can have the money we’d have paid to the smithy.”
“Oh, that’s really not—”
“Relax Yan, it’s just so the money’s used.” He saw Yan’s confused face and explained. “We get a certain amount of funding for weapons and armour, if the money’s not used then whoever’s looking at our books up in the Seat will just assume we don’t need that much and give us less next time.”
“It didn’t used to be like that though,” Emery carried on with a faraway look in his eye. Himura turned around, met Yan’s gaze, and rolled her eyes behind Emery, as if sharing an inside joke with him. “I remember back when we’d just get ten dollars a week for the whole office. The Captain would make this stew that even God’s would have fought—”
“Well,” said Himura, as though she’d heard Emery reminisce a dozen times too many, “if that’s all Sergeant, I’ll let you get on with your work. I have a wand that Hendrik needed analysis on yesterday.”
She ushered Emery out of her office and gave Yan a smile that said ‘Sorry about this but I’m definitely not listening to Emery hark on about the good old days again’. Yan tried imprinting it into his memory as he left Himura’s lab.
“Don’t mind Himura,” Emery said as they made their way back to his office, “she’s got a good heart, but she can be quite short sometimes. I’d like to think she’s good at her job, but we made the position up for her after she helped locate a murderer just off of the dirt he’d left behind. It was unbelievable, we all thought that she was in on it to begin with.”
“About the cuirass and helmet…” said Yan, trying his best to tactfully guide Emery back on track, “should I get started on them today?”
“I’d wait until you get your Watchman Class first,” he said after giving it a little thought. He opened his office and gestured for Yan to have a seat. “You know what they say about being too eager once you hit the Basic Level cap.”
“Oh sure, okay.” Yan thought about what he had to do next and came up blank. “Uhm, what exactly should I do today then?”
“Well, when we hired Debby and Ilda, I got them to do a few patrols around the streets with Hendrik. You know, get a feel for the city, for what it is we do here at the Watch. Viktor was a bit weird, he just sort of fit in without much need for any of us to tell him what to do. Terry… Terry was a handful. No fault of his own, you see, just the fact that a lot of people tend to get quite scared when they see 400-odd pounds of troll holding a baton that’s basically a small tree trunk.”
“You seem like a clever lad, though, let me see… TERRY?” his shout took Yan by surprise and made him jerk in his chair a little. He heard Terry walk over to Emery’s office and watched him contort his body so he could make it past the human-sized doorway.
“Called, Sarge?” he grunted, his voice redefining what it meant to sound gravelly.
“Yes, Terry. You’re up next for patrol, right?” Emery waited for Terry’s nod. “I would have asked Hendrik but I know he’s got some serious stuff to deal with. Take Yan out, will you? I think I nice peaceful beat will help ease in our newest recruit.”
“Got it. Armed? Always less trouble when armed Sarge.”
“Nothing with a sharp edge Terry.”
“Hngh,” came his affirmative grunt. He turned to Yan, towering over him. “Wait. Need to change."
