David Niemitz
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Guild Mage 307
🕑 Added 2025-11-21 18:28:20 +0000 UTCChapter 307: Petitioners
“You were rather hard on him,” Blaise observed, once the council of regents had returned to the reception.
“That Duke Richard seemed like he couldn’t get out of here fast enough,” Miina added, from the ambassador’s side.
“That might have something to do with how she nearly took his limbs off when they fought,” Kaija observed.
“I didn’t enjoy doing it,” Liv said, not feeling their good humor. Archmagus Loredon had, in his own way, tried to do well by her on several occasions. “But I need them to understand that things won’t simply go back to the way they were before. If he wants to make the Mages Guild whole again, it's going to have to change.”
Keri reached over and took her hand in his; he gave a slight squeeze, and she returned it. “Are you ready for it to begin?” he asked. “We can take a quiet moment, if you want.”
“No.” She shook her head. “It will only take longer if we delay. Ambassador, I’m going to need you to weed out the people who are actually worth my time from the rest. And at - what time is the last dance of the evening?”
“I’m assuming that you don’t actually intend to stay until dawn.” Blaise rose from his seat. “Just before midnight, for your purposes, followed by a light meal, and then they’ll be back to it again through the rest of the night.”
“I want to be free for that dance,” Liv said. “Make it happen.”
“I will make your wishes clear to any who might be confused,” Ghveris rumbled, from behind them.
Blaise crossed the room to where two of Liv’s guards held back a gathering crowd of petitioners, advantage-seekers, and hangers on. There were a few faces that she recognized, and many more that she did not.
“I couldn’t possibly do this without help,” Liv murmured, leaning her face toward Keri. “It would be miserable. I’d throw my hands up and ice the door over after half a bell.”
“You seem to do well enough at Whitehill, or even at the Hall of Ancestors,” he observed.
“Those are people I’ve committed to protect,” she answered, without hesitation. “People who’ve put their trust in me, many of whom have fought beside us. They deserve everything I can possibly give them. Most of this crowd are vultures looking to pick my bones clean.”
The next few hours blurred together into a sea of unfamiliar faces and half remembered names; if Miina hadn’t had a notebook out, and a quill pen, Liv would quickly have become lost.
Baron Barnett wanted to hear all about how Liv had found her experience rooming at High Hall. “It was us and the Falkenraths who put that together and funded the construction, you know,” the garrulous man repeated, for the third time. He leaned too close to her, and waved his hands around so violently as he spoke that he nearly splashed Liv with wine from his goblet on several occasions. “What a thrill, for our hall to have hosted not only a future monarch, but one of a neighboring kingdom. I’m told that you’re founding a second college outside of Whitehill. Surely you’ve seen that the better class of people need a certain standard of lodging - can’t have your heirs slumming with the commons, one day, can you? I’d be willing to help found another dormitory, along the lines of High Hall - though rather than the Falkenraths, this time, why don’t we do this together, as a partnership?”
“I actually found it rather a good thing to mix with the commons, as you put it,” Liv told him, keeping as sweet a smile on her face as she could. “And inconvenient that some of my best friends couldn’t room near me.”
Baron Barnett left disappointed, though he was not the only one. Edith Gage - or whatever her name was, now, as Liv seemed to recall she’d wed the heir to Brackpool - waved and called out to her from the entrance.
“But we were roommates! The closest of friends,” Edith insisted, while Liv’s guards pressed her back into the crowd.
“Absolutely not that one,” Liv instructed Blaise Crosbie.
Celestria Ward and her father, Baron Kerlin, Liv did see, along with Celestria’s mother, Justina, and her younger brother, Martin.
“As the former queen’s brother, I was obligated to go to war, regardless of my personal feelings,” Kerlin said. The man’s voice was subdued, and Liv could see how nervous his family was. “It is the risk we took when tying ourselves too closely to the crown. I simply hope that any grievances you have with me, or with my sister, can be put to rest with us, and not carry on to my children.”
Liv glanced to her side, and met Keri’s eyes. For a moment, she felt his Authority flare next to her, reaching out like a warm summer day. The feeling made her want to throw herself down in the green mountain grass and luxuriate in the light of the sun. Only heartbeats later, the feeling faded, and Keri nodded.
“Did you know your daughter and I helped each other at Coral Bay?” Liv asked Kerlin, with a smile. “She helped me to train my Authority, and I helped her with silent casting.”
“We had to tie you to a chair, as I recall,” Celestria said, a brilliant smile breaking across her face at the memory. “It was hard not to laugh sometimes at the look on your face. But you did get better.” For a moment, Liv felt an echo of the longing she’d spent hours struggling against, the sweeping pull of the word of desire.
“I think it saved my life,” Liv admitted. “When I had to fight Calevis at the Foundry Rift, if I hadn’t been able to resist his Authority, I would have died, along with nearly all of my friends.” She turned to the other woman’s father. “You need have no concern, Baron Ward. In respect of your daughter, whatever may have passed between us is forgiven. Any of your family are welcome to visit the north, save the former queen. She must remain in exile.”
Speaking with Eustace, the priest of the Trinity who had taken charge of hunting Ractia’s followers in Freeport, was not so pleasant, but it was necessary. Nearly entirely bald, with fingers that had grown knobby and swollen with age, the man was nonetheless animated by some kind of inner fire which, which burned with such intensity that one could see it in his eyes.
“Thirty-four heretics discovered, to date,” the old priest informed her. “A rot that was allowed to fester far too long. I remember when you came and addressed the great council, Lord Inkeris, and no one wanted to listen to you. I can’t help but wonder, if we’d had our own scourge of the north all those years ago, how much suffering might have been avoided.”
“It was not easy work,” Keri admitted, and something about the tone of his voice made Liv want to take him back to Action House that very instant, put his head in her lap, and protect him while he slept.
“But it needed to be done,” Eustace said. “And it was, among the Eld. You were strong enough to carry this burden then, Lord Inkeris, and we must be strong enough to do it now. The horrors I’ve seen - you know the dowager queen had a hidden shrine in this very palace? She kept a cage of rabbits to sacrifice, and there was a basin caked in old, dried blood. I can’t imagine how many throats that old woman slit over the years.”
“You’ve concentrated on House Sherard, then?” Liv asked.
“And every family that supported Benedict.” Eustace nodded.
“Do not confine yourself to the great families of Lucania,” Keri advised. “We found just as many cultists among the weak, the powerless, the desperate. Women who were barren, and only wanted a child. Some of their stories nearly broke my heart.”
“I’d like to introduce you to my friend Wren,” Liv said. “And also Vivek Sharma, who is a priest of the Trinity from Lendh ka Dakruim, and one of my advisors.”
“Yes, I’ve exchanged a few letters with Osric Fletcher, from the Whitehill Temple,” Eustace admitted. “He mentioned his conversation with Pandit Sharma and Lord Inkeris. You all had, I believe, discussed a particular question.”
Liv frowned, and glanced over to Keri.
“He wanted to know whether you were actually a goddess,” Keri explained. “While you were away in Varuna.”
“Oh.” Liv’s mind scrambled for an answer, because she was certain that she only half understood herself. Ironically, the only one who might be able to give Eustace the full details was Ractia. After a moment, she decided to simply tell the truth, as best she could. “I destroyed the remnants of two Vædim - the corpse of Costia, beneath the Well of Bones, and the shade of Celris, in his Tomb. I already had Vædic blood, from both the Lord of Cold and the Lady of Time, but that isn’t uncommon among the Eld. Keri’s descended from Bælris, and my cousin Miina from Däivi.”
Eustace nodded. “Part of the Lucanian royal family’s claim has always been their descent from Miriam herself, through her son Lucan, and thus ultimately to the Lord of Storms.”
“Elder Aira, who is the daughter of the Lady of Thorns, told me that what I’d done had begun to change my body into something more like the original Vædim,” Liv said. “And there are a few things Ractia said that seemed to confirm that. She tried to tell me that she was the only one who could help me complete the - journey, I suppose. Transformation.”
“And I’ve certainly seen the signs. I’m more comfortable in a rift than outside of one,” Liv admitted. “But if there is some fundamental line to cross, that divides the old gods from everyone else - I haven’t crossed it. I don’t even know what it is.”
“A half-step to immortality?” Eustace mused, leaning back in his chair. “You present an interesting theological question, Queen Livara. What does it mean, for the Temple of the Trinity, to have a nascent goddess walking our world? To witness the birth of divinity?”
“I don’t feel like a goddess,” Liv told him, and she had to laugh. “I feel like everything is harder and more complicated than it should be. Ractia is a clear threat to everyone in the world - this is someone who created an entire race of slaves to fight for her, who demands blood sacrifice. She throws her followers out like we toss bones to dogs. And somehow, most of the world thinks this just - won’t be a problem? Or perhaps that someone else will deal with it?”
“I will tell you a truth I’ve learned, over many years as a priest,” Eustace said, after a moment’s thought. “Most people will not do the hard things, Your Majesty. Most simply want to be comfortable. And if their illusions allow them to follow the same routines as they have for years - they will fight to keep their eyes from being opened. They would rather do what is easy than what is right. It is a very small number who actually are willing to risk their lives for - well, for anything.”
“But,” he continued, “I believe that you will have the support of the Temple. Not as a goddess - but as a leader. I will speak to my brothers and sisters, and tell them my impression of you. And yes, if you wish, I would enjoy meeting Pandit Sharma, and even your friend.”
Liv opened her mouth to reply, but there was a stir at the doorway, and then one of her guards slipped into the room, hurrying directly over to her. “Would you excuse us?” she asked Eustace.
The priest stood. “Of course. I hope that the rest of your evening is a pleasant one.” He inclined his head, and slipped out the door.
“A message from Commander Wren,” the guard said. Her name was Orella, Liv recalled. “She says that anything you tell Tephania Lane might as well be told to Thurston Falkenrath and his family.”
“Teph’s here?” For just a moment, Liv cast about for Arjun, Sidonie, or Rose - but none of them were with her. Her first reaction was to immediately send for her friend to be brought in, but then the rest of the message got through to her - and following that, the memory that the last time they’d seen each other had been when Liv had hanged Bennet Howe, Merek Sherard, Baron Seton, and Sir Emory.
“You don’t have to see her if you don’t want to,” Keri reminded her.
Liv shook her head. “No. I do want to see her. Thank you for warning me, and thank Wren,” she told Orella. The guard slipped back out through the doors and into the crowd, headed for her station at the carriages. “Blaise?” she called across the room.
The ambassador left the doorway and hurried over to her. “How do you want to handle this?” he asked.
“Invite them both in,” Liv decided. “Tephania and Thurston.” If this was going to be bad, if it was going to be another friend leaving her, like Rose had, at least she would get it over with quickly.
“You’re trembling,” Keri murmured. He lifted her hand in his, and pressed his lips between her knuckles.
“I just -” Liv paused to collect herself, and then even Miina was there, on her other side, placing a hand on her shoulder. “We made the decision, together, for her to stay at Coral Bay. She’s not a fighter. I don’t blame her for not coming with us, but - I was hoping that we could still be friends.”
“You do not know why she is here,” Ghveris rumbled, from behind Liv. “Wait and see.”
Motion at the door drew her eye, and Liv straightened in her seat. The guards stepped aside to allow Tephania Land and Thurston Falkenrath to enter, her hand resting atop his forearm. It was clear, not only from the way they were standing, but from the way they were dressed, as well, that they were attending the reception together. In fact, Liv recognized all the same signals that Cade and his father had used to advertise to the aristocracy, years ago, that he had been courting her.
Thurston Falkenrath wore a doublet of black leather, supple and polished enough to shine in the lights of the candles and oil lamps. His boots were of the same leather, rising to just below his knee, where they were rolled down. While his linen shirt was white, with blackwork at the neck and cuffs, his breeches were a dark, expensive purple.
Tephania was nearly a mirror image, with the colors reversed: her gown was a bright, vibrant purple, with black embroidery and lace. Liv recognized feather and wing motifs, and the distinctive shape of a falcon’s head - the bird around which House Falkenrath’s heraldry was centered. Her blonde hair was piled atop her head, with only a few carefully curled tendrils permitted to fall artfully about her face, and her jewelry consisted of gold settings and chains, fit with sparkling amethysts, save only for the guild ring on one finger of her left hand.
“Liv!” For a moment, it looked like Teph would rush forward, and then her smile flickered and faded. Perhaps, Liv thought, it was the memory of those hanging corpses, and who had given the order for them to be strung up on the gibbet.
“Teph.” Liv stood, allowing the hands of her companions to fall away, and crossed the room. It was the first time that evening she had not forced the people entering the room to come to her. She opened her arms, and observed Thurston releasing Tephania’s hand, then stepping off to one side.
Liv wrapped her friend in her arms, and once her lips were close to the other woman’s ear, she whispered: “If he is using you against your will, tell me, and I’ll put an end to it.” She couldn’t tell whether she hoped for that, or not.
Tephania stepped back, and lowered her eyes. “No. Thurston and I have been discussing marriage,” she admitted.
Everything clicked into place in Liv’s mind. It was not that Teph was no longer her friend - she was, or at least she would try to be - but that someone else was now more important. “Why don’t you both come have a seat,” she said. Taking Tephania by the hand, she led them over to where Keri, Miina, and Ghveris waited. “You remember Keri, from when we went north for my grandfather’s funeral?”
“And just before the battle at the pass, as well.” Keri stood, and extended his hand. “Tephania. It is good to see that you are well.”
Teph allowed him to take it, in the Lucanian style. “Inkeris. This is Thurston Falkenrath - we’re courting.”
Keri and Thurston clasped arms for a moment, meeting each other’s eyes. “Matthew has spoken of you,” Keri mentioned. “I understand you were good friends.”
“I hope that we still are,” Thurston said.
“Ghveris.” Teph gave a slight curtsy to the enormous war machine who stood behind the chairs. “I hope Wren is well, since last I saw her.”
“She is,” the Antrian confirmed.
“And this is my cousin, Miina,” Liv said, waiting while Tephania and Thurston offered polite greetings in turn. Then, she took her seat once again, between Keri and Miina. “Now. Why don’t we get right to it. I presume that your family wants something, Thurston?”
“What we would like is a good relationship with the kingdom on our border,” he replied. “Stability. Trade.”
Liv glanced to Teph, then back to the man who, apparently, wanted to wed her friend. “You know that you could have had our everlasting trust and friendship, if you’d taken a stand against Genevieve and the dowager and the rest of them. Wren gave you proof that old woman was making sacrifices to Ractia, but your father held back, rather than commit. And now you parade my friend in here with the idea of - what, using her to get on my good side? After letting Matthew down when he had faith in you? I’m not certain how you expect this meeting to go, Thurston. Your family had the chance to pick a side, and your father chose to sit on the fence, instead. So you tell me - I’m more than happy to wish you well, to attend your wedding, to see Teph happy. But why would I put any trust in you or your father, when it’s obvious neither of you deserves it?”
Comments
_Templar
I really like that last sentence. Liv managing to be a friend and a queen at the same time. Telling them that she would attend their wedding is a big concession as it implies political alignment, but she's refusing to give anything tangible unless it's good for her kingdom.
Kazith
Solid chapter, ty!
