Kairami
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The Exalted Mage - Chapter 8: Steward Hadrian.
🕑 Added 2025-12-28 02:11:51 +0000 UTCIt was late morning when Veronica left the pub, retracing her steps toward the Herald’s Hall.
The building looked quiet from the outside, almost abandoned. Even so, she tried the door.
It swung open without resistance, the soft creak of its hinges breaking the silence inside. The hall was a simple structure, its wide, open space feeling oddly still. A clerk was the only person visible, casually looking through papers behind the counter. The Herald’s Hall seemed to be little more than the town’s local newspaper commission.
She approached the counter, and as she did, the clerk finally looked up. His expression didn’t show surprise, only a vague hint of curiosity.
“Good morning,” she said. “I was told I could find some news here.”
The clerk raised an eyebrow, his voice low but not unkind. “Never seen you before. You a newcomer?”
Veronica nodded, offering a small smile. “I just arrived in town. Thought I’d catch up on what’s been going on around here. I don’t really have any money, but I was wondering if you might have some older pieces of information?”
The clerk studied her for a moment, then gave a slight nod, as if deciding she was harmless enough. Reaching under the counter, he pulled out a small bundle of newspapers, the edges slightly worn.
“Here,” he said, handing her the stack. “A few local articles and updates. They’re not always the most... exciting, but they cover the basics. Paper’s about two weeks old. You can read it here, but you can’t take it with you. Three vix for an up-to-date one.”
Veronica took the paper. The ink was slightly smudged in places, but it was readable, which was all that mattered.
“Thank you,” she said. With a polite nod, she made her way to a nearby table with a bench seat.
Settling down, she flipped through the papers, scanning the headlines. Most of it focused on the town’s local affairs: market updates, weather predictions, and minor accidents. There was plenty of information about the barony and the surrounding lands, but a few articles stood out. Mentions of unusual activity on the borders, an uptick in trade from House Ronswick, and rumors of increased military buildup.
The details were vague, but they aligned with what she’d heard from Garrick earlier.
She read on, absorbing the details.
In recent weeks, several villagers had vanished along the eastern roads. No bodies, no clear signs of struggle. Just people who left one day and never returned. The article offered common explanations: animal attacks, or perhaps a wandering band of outlaws preying on isolated travelers. It warned against venturing out alone and urged caution to anyone traveling beyond the town’s borders.
It reminded her of the mercenaries who had tried to capture her.
Could they be involved?
It seemed possible. If slavers were operating in the region, they could easily be responsible for some of these disappearances. But if that were the case, why was there no mention of their presence in Greystone? She had seen the slave cuffs with her own eyes—proof of what kind of people they were. Had they not been going to Greystone, she would have suspected them.
With a complicated sigh, she folded the paper in her lap, fingers tapping idly against its cover. There was a pattern here, but she hadn’t quite put it together yet. Too many strange occurrences were piling up at once. Something about this town feels off, she thought. She still needed more information.
Old Thom’s story lingered in her mind.
The ruins. Maybe that was where she needed to go next. If cultists were truly there, performing some kind of suspicious ritual, she’d make sure to stop them. Any demons coming into the world needed to be vanquished mercilessly, and she wouldn’t spare the lives of anyone doing the summoning, either. Lesser demons weren’t much more of a problem than some monsters, but the higher-tier ones—those she couldn’t afford to let live.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a low rumble from her stomach. Veronica sighed.
“I need to go find that Steward, and then get something to eat…”
♠♠♠
Veronica made her way toward the town center, scanning the square for any sign of a guard.
She stared back at the guard. “Where can I find the steward?”
He gestured toward a large stone building on the opposite side of the square, just beyond the merchant stalls. “That’s the town hall. You’ll find the steward’s office inside. Name’s Hadrian Welton.”
“Got it,” she said with a nod. “Thanks.”
The guard grunted in acknowledgment before shifting his attention back to the crowd.
With that, Veronica set off toward the town hall.
Veronica crossed the town square. The building was sturdier than most of the others around it, constructed from thick stone with wooden beams reinforcing its frame. It wasn’t particularly grand, but it definitely stood out as an official-looking building.
Stepping inside, she found herself in a modest entry hall. A wooden desk sat near the back, where a clerk scribbled on a parchment. Shelves lined the walls, filled with neatly stacked ledgers and scrolls. A few wooden benches were pushed against the sides, presumably for people waiting to meet with officials.
Veronica approached the desk, clearing her throat to get the clerk’s attention.
The man, a thin, balding fellow with slightly ink-stained fingers, glanced up with mild disinterest. “Yes?”
“My name is Veronica. Veronica Everwells. I’m looking for Hadrian Welton,” she said. “I was told he was looking for me?”
“Do you have an appointment?” he asked lazily.
“No, but the clerk at the inn told me he needed to see me. And I’m interested in talking with him, too. I’m a mage who arrived in town earlier this morning.” Veronica lifted her palm and ignited a small flame above her fingertip.
That seemed to catch his attention, if only slightly. The man’s brow furrowed, and he glanced toward a door at the back of the room before speaking. “Wait here.”
He rose from his seat and disappeared through the doorway, leaving Veronica to stand awkwardly in the quiet office. She tapped her fingers against the edge of the desk, eyes drifting over the documents scattered across its surface. Most of them seemed to be records. Trade agreements, merchant permits, and supply logs.
None of it looked particularly interesting.
After a minute, the door creaked open again, and the clerk returned, motioning for her to follow. “Steward Hadrian will see you now.”
Veronica stepped inside the office, finding herself in a simple but well-kept room. A large wooden desk dominated the space, cluttered with ledgers, a wax seal, and a half-finished cup of tea. Behind it sat a middle-aged man with graying hair and sharp, calculating eyes. His coat was finely made but practical—more suited to a steward than a noble.
“Miss Veronica, correct?” he said. “I wanted to thank you for this morning. That monster attack could have gone poorly if not for your intervention. Captain Luthen also asked me to extend his gratitude.”
Veronica nodded, already piecing together why she’d been summoned. “That’s the head guard, right? The one who tried fighting the ogre?”
“Yes.” Hadrian folded his hands neatly atop the desk. “You were quite impressive, from what he reported. You saved a child who was hiding behind a wagon. A single spell and the ogre died in one hit. I even heard the explosion from here. The crater is still being filled as we speak.”
She winced slightly. That was a drawback of her magic. Subtlety wasn’t exactly her forte.
“Sorry about that.”
Hadrian waved dismissively. “You likely saved several lives—civilians and guards alike. A patch of broken stone is a small price to pay. Speaking of which, Captain Luthen passed along a request he’d like you to hear.”
“A request?”
“Yes, he’d like you to meet him at the barracks.” Hadrian leaned back slightly, assessing her. “You’re a mage, and clearly a capable one from what he told me. Luthen believes his men would benefit from combat drills against someone who can use magic.”
Veronica blinked. “Combat training?”
“Exactly. Mages are extraordinarily rare this far out on the kingdom’s edge. Many of our guards have never even seen offensive magic, much less defended against it. Luthen believes our forces would benefit from training against magic.”
She hesitated, thinking the request over.
Combat drills with town guards? That wasn’t on her list of priorities. She needed information about the current era, political shifts, and the kingdom’s state—not to spend her day tossing spells halfheartedly at soldiers.
Seeing her reluctance, Hadrian continued gently, “He doesn’t want you to harm them. Just controlled training. Enough for them to understand what fighting a mage feels like.”
He paused, then added more carefully, “And… when the guards brought you to the inn, they mentioned you didn’t have any belongings. No pack. And no vix on hand.”
Veronica looked at him. What was he getting at?
He nodded. “I won’t pry about your situation. But the inn isn’t free.” He tapped a ledger lightly. “If you assist Captain Luthen, I’ll cover your stay for the week and pay you enough so that you can buy proper clothes and supplies. You look like you’ve been traveling for quite some time.”
Veronica glanced down at herself—torn, filthy bandit clothing, worn through from an entire night of running through the forest. She needed money. Food. A change of clothes. Everything, really.
The offer was… practical.
“How much are we talking?”
“Five hundred Vix.” He said it calmly, but with a hint of pride. “Fair, I hope? Just for a couple hours of work.”
For a small, underfunded mining town like Greystone, five hundred was generous—practically lavish. To Veronica, who once handled budgets measured in millions, it was pocket change… but right now, it was more money than she had to her name.
She didn’t particularly like how the trousers she had were riding up on her. Not to mention the holes in her shirt. Thankfully, they weren’t in any place immodest.
After a moment’s thought, she nodded. “Alright. I’ll do it.”
Hadrian smiled, lifting his quill. He scribbled a few lines onto a parchment before sliding it across the desk. “Take this to Captain Luthen. When you finish the training, have him sign it and return it to me. Your payment will be ready.”
Veronica folded the paper neatly and slipped it into her pocket.
Hadrian’s shoulders eased. “The barracks are on the western side of town. Hard to miss. Captain Luthen will be expecting you whenever you’re ready.”
“Got it. I’ll make sure he hears it from me.” She gave him a polite nod. “I’ll be on my way then. Good day, Mr. Hadrian.”
He offered a weary but sincere smile. “And please—try not to create more craters on your way over.”
Veronica let out a quiet laugh. “No promises.”
With that, she turned and headed toward the barracks.
