The Final Life

by Andrew Mowere

CHAPTER 19

  Glint walked the long wide snow white canyon leading to one of the largest doors he’d seen in his life. It was a double gate with intricate patterns on it, adorned with the sign right in the middle. A plain light coloured grey ring, with a drop beneath it. Anyone who saw this symbol in these parts equated it with both fear and adoration, for this was the symbol of guild Quicksilver. It commanded respect, even more so than Alfjötr Christon’s howling wolf.

  Each of the door’s slabs was more than thirty feet across and fifty feet high. The two were set to block off the way through what seemed to look more and more like a corridor, for the doors were connected directly to the canyon’s walls. It was difficult to call the place a canyon, because this was in fact near the peak of mount Ash, in the Bane Mountains. Each door was forged of one slab of black iron, and Glint wondered who had managed such a feat. His father would probably pay gold to see these doors, he reflected. At the foot of the right door there stood a small guard post with a man standing inside, looking bored yet glad to be sheltered from the weather. He wore simple armour and a blue tabard. Glint fought through the snow and wind to get to him, and he asked the man, “How do I get in? I was invited to join the guild.” It was cold, and despite his fur clothing the warrior still didn’t wish to spend too long on pleasantries.

  The man laughed with at that. “Invited, yeah right, and I’m a dire wolf. Listen kid, anyone who makes his way to us by himself gets the right to take the test, no questions asked. Go through that door over there, and you’ll be shown in.” Instead of arguing with the man about the truth of his invitation, Glint merely headed over to the door the guard was pointing at. It was a pitiful thing in comparison to the massive gates, set inside the right slab, like a pet’s hatch within a door. Glint chuckled at the comparison. There was no lock, and Glint slowly pushed the heavy portal open, grunting in surprise at its weight. He wondered how normal people would be allowed in, for they surely couldn’t have managed to open this thing. Glancing to his right, he could tell the truth from the guard’s expression: he wasn’t meant to be able to open it, the man had been hoping to embarrass him and then help him with it. He smiled at the guard, hoping to avoid making enemies on his first day. After a second the man gave him a begrudging wave, and Glint went in.

  There he was met by a youth perhaps slightly younger than him, who introduced herself as Natalie Hearth. He was to be taken to the test manager, she told him, whose name was Lord Oubo. He needed to remember the Lord, she said, just Oubo was not good enough. Master Oubo would work nicely too. As they went across the courtyard and into the stone castle that Guild took for its main base, Natalie explained things about Quicksilver. “There are three circles, and nine ranks in each of the first and second. The third and highest circle has four ranks. There are tests- stop that, Simon!” the last part was yelled at a younger boy, who was trying to push a suit of armour over, perhaps egged on by the group of older boys behind him. “Where was I? Oh, there are tests for each rank, and the strong can order the weak around, although we are supervised by people from the second circle, who take care of the administration of the place and act as teachers. Those in the Third circle carry more important jobs, such as planning, completing the hardest quests, commanding in wars, and managing the guild’s funds and taxes. All training done is in the back of the castle, in the inner Court. They call it the Court because it’s what decides who rules and who is ruled.” All the time they walked, people were bustling by in armour getting on with their business. Each wore a surcoat over his or her armour with the guild symbol on it, and although most were green or blue, Glint glimpsed an elderly man in a red coat directing some of the others. Despite his kind look, Glint could see his mettle. Glint noticed how the place was furnished in mostly iron or wood, simple yet powerful and comfortable. Still, there were signs of true luxury in the chandeliers and carpets on the floors. Glint knew that even the hardest warrior enjoyed relaxing in a study with a clay tobacco pipe sometimes. He noted suits of armour hanging everywhere, lining the walls. Some had names etched upon bronze plaques beneath them.

  “What’s the huge door about?” asked Glint, hoping to change the subject to something less complicated. He was tired from the trip and wide eyed at everything he saw, and he didn’t think he could deal with the ranking system here adding more confusion to his already befuddled head. The youth had gone through a busy year, after all, and Azrael had barely paused a day before shadow blinking them back to Shien and dumping him at the foot of Mount Ash with naught but fur armour and a backpack of supplies. Then the necromancer had rushed off to some ancient catacomb he thought might yield useful information. The man was too impatient to get on with his mission, yet the warrior could tell that his friend was glad to finally have someone he could confide in. Glint smiled wryly as he thought of the necromancer and when they might next meet, for Azrael had simply told Glint to find him when he’d grown a bit stronger. Azrael had also promised never to lie to him again, and Glint knew he’d keep that promise. The warrior turned his attention to Natalie, who was still talking.

  “Oh, that’s the Iron Door. Only those who can open it can qualify as a higher ranked first circle member. Anyway, it’ll be a while to Lord Oubo’s office. You look pretty tough though, I think you’ll have no problems getting into the guild. Some people who join have actually been fighting for a very long time before coming, although I’m a normal noble recruit who happened to have a talent for this type of art. How about you, do you have any good stories to tell?”

  Glint grinned. “Nothing to brag about, really.”

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