by K. G. Wilkie
Next orders were divvied up for people both at and missing from the meeting to destroy the anchors in the other regions. A list of names was confirmed To be sent off to Avalon. Others were brainstormed and then confirmed to be sent to the region the nymphs tended to prefer living in. Though it was always hard to know exactly where they’d be from year to year, they always thankfully stayed in roughly the same region. They were far more reliable in that way than the shifters.
The next location was assigned purely to some journeymen. No one else could be trusted to hunt down the anchor hidden across the shore out West. Besides the magical drain it would take to go across an ocean, there was also the problem of safely searching once they reached land. There were very different magical races across the ocean and a mere junior wizard would be useless against a real threat to their lives. Then another group was sent even further West to the heart of that continent. Two other groups mixed between elders and journeymen were sent to the two consonants East of them.
The only thing left was to said some juniors to the North and South. Gruzelvelt happily admitted he thought it was a fool‘s quest to send them to the poles. However, he wanted to cover all of his bases. If there were anchors there, then they would be found. No matter what. The junior secretaries shivered at that pronouncement. Happily, Gruzelvelt said he planned for only some disgraced young wizards on those journeys. It was some good news, at least, and a day full of very little.
However, the news was only going to get worse. Gruzelvelt went on to explain how they were supposed to destroy the anchors.
“This is the easy part,” Gruzelvelt said. Everyone else in the room shivered at the prospect of whatever he considered easy enough to assign to them to do. Safe, and easy, never went together when he was involved. “The destruction of an anchor requires both physical impact and magical strength. Half of the group will have to hammer away at the anchor points while the other half will have to blast it. There’s a chance some of you may be injured by this intersection of power,” he said. Gruzelvelt shrugged. “I’m sure will be fine if you just pay attention though. It won’t be a big deal. But you may still need to keep one or two people free to fight against all the various people I for see trying to kill you for destroying the anchors they are set to guard. You’ll probably turn out fine though,” Gruzelvelt said. He didn’t look like he believed his words. It didn’t look like anyone else believed them, either. Still, they had to follow orders. Even if their orders had been to just straight up die. The other wizards in the room tried to convince themselves it was a good sign that his orders weren’t quite that heartless. It went without saying that it was not quite that heartless this time, at least, and no one was quite prepared to put their hope on this becoming a repeat occurance.
One of the junior wizards shakily raised a hand. Gruzelvelt looked at him with a glare, but eventually allowed him to speak. “Um, sir? How can we destroy the anchors if we don’t know what they look like? You didn’t actually tell us,” he said. The young man started to falter his speech when Gruzelvelt glared at him even more fiercely for his impertinence.
“How can you not know? It’s obvious. The anchors are giant stones. And obviously they are each groups special stone,” Gruzelvelt said.
The junior wizards only looked more confused at this news. Special stones? What were those? But no one felt prepared to ask another question. Zark sighed and stepped in to explain things once again. “He means the stones aligned with each species. You know what they are,” Zark said. The eager young things nodded in response to this reveal. Put that way, of course they knew what types of stones these anchors would be. Everyone knew at least the basic stones allied with the species that lived in the kingdom: Dragons favored jade, the fey loved the changeable nature of opal, wizards chased gold, the nymphs were aligned with amber, the shifters were called by moonstone, and the daemons hoarded obsidian. The only question was what material the anchors would be made of on the other continents they were taught next to nothing about, but that still looked to not be too hard a task to figure out. Zark revealed to his juniors that the anchor stones wouldn’t be dainty little gemstones, but would instead have to be perfect unpolished rocks as big as a person’s clenched fists. Few gems and other precious stones were left in their natural state, let alone such large pieces. It wouldn’t hurt that you don’t see an enchanted stone every day, and the magic cast on the stone would call to them as wizard magic always calls to other wizards. Thankfully, the spell of the Divide itself was originally put in place by wizards, so the methods to dismantle it would be easy enough for even the most junior wizard to do. That is, if said wizards were able to survive the looming battles with people who did not want to have the Divide destroyed. The prospect was daunting, but what else could they do? They had their orders, and they knew they had to follow them.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Domed City
The bars and meeting houses were stuffed to capacity. All was not well within Domed City. Despite Gruzelvelt’s optimistic idea that the sudden death of their leader after he’d muttered about a change in position had not gone unnoticed. Is little interviews with so-called insignificant journeyman had caused quite the stir. No one had spoken up during the leader’s funeral, but the thought had been brewing the whole time. With Gruzelvelt sending many journeymen and junior wizards out on his errands, many felt upset enough to share their concerns.
Some scuttlebutt in particular caused a bit of the public outcry. Some people were suggesting that, just perhaps, Gruzelvelt himself had killed the former leader. It was one thing for him to have ordered the job to be done. In some strange way that seemed respectable enough: it let him maintain his honor while still getting the job done the way that best fit their rigidly structured world. But to just hold the weapon and do the deed himself, well, it made people talk. If Gruzelvelt was prone to fits of passion like that, some suggested he wasn’t an appropriate man to be the leader, anyway. Others wondered that if they made even the slightest wrong move, Gruzelvelt might come for them next.
In particular, the elders themselves were quite concerned. If Gruzelvelt had been upset by his boss, well, the board of elders were supposed to be his peers. There are supposed to be the balance of power to the leader of the city. But he’d already shown what he thought of having a bus. It made the other leaders concerned that maybe, just maybe, if they actually fulfilled to their roles and gave the occasional veto to his ideas he might just kill them next. It was a sobering thought.
With the heady courage of hearing so many of their peers agree with their concerns soon a small uprising was formed. The Raging Quill, a tavern at the edge of the dome, found itself as the host of these agitators by the end of the night. They even went so far as to take out sheets of paper and pens and write out their concerns in a formal grievance letter. Then the small group of elders stormed on Gruzelvelt’s offices in the city center.
Meanwhile the junior wizards themselves were sharing their grievances about the new leader. But they had tighter schedules and restrictions in place on them until they advanced to higher ranks, so their discussions took place in the junior barracks.
“I think they’re screwing us over,” they said. Was a common theme in the discussion. No one was happy to be ordered to go to far-flung locations to fight to the death with unfriendly locals. In other circumstances it might have been fun to have been allowed to go on a trip to the ends of the world. But the prospect of being cannon fodder for more senior wizards to actually destroy the anchors and receive any glory and accolades that might be available for their work was a grating thought. It didn’t help that no orders had been made yet to cover provisions. What were they going to do without provisions? Just scavenge in the wild and pray that food and other supplies would fall in their laps from the skies above? It is ridiculous. There hadn’t really been any planning at all for these missions. There’s just the one directive to go. Not even the directive to go was very clear, no one knew exactly where these anchors were hidden. Here ju
st told to go find it somewhere, some way, somehow. Almost as useful as having no orders to follow at all.
However, the junior wizards knew better than to share their complaints. They knew what would happen if such insignificant cannon fodder as they were to dare voice any sort of complaint. They would be de-ranked, sent down to the bottom rung of society. Even lower than the apprentices did anyone’s random orders when they weren’t in their lessons. The prospect was indeed Graham. And besides the apprenticeship rank, they might be sent even lower to be a no–rank. The worst scum of the city. No one spoke to a no rank, no one knew and no rank, no one called the no rank by their name. To not have a ring was to not be a person in Domed City. No, they would have to essays their complaining for when they moved up a few levels in the social structure. There might be some way to survive if you complained as a journeyman, but there is no such option for junior wizards. They are just have to try and ignore the problem existed at all and do the best they could to survive these stupid missions without anything in place to help them succeed. Without any of rewards for succeeding either, for that matter. You just have to continue keeping their heads low for the next few years until the rain tie enough to allowed to be allowed to have opinions.
Gruzelvelt wished that the elders had the same such restraint. “Can you believe this? Who are they to make such demands of me? I can’t believe this,” Gruzelvelt said. He paced back and forth in his office. He read the letter again until he was in such a temper he looked like he risked an aneurysm.
Zark looked on, knowing it was best to not share that he quite understood the elders’ concerns. That would not change Gruzelvelt’s mind, and might very well put the secretary in hot water as well.
“The nerve of them. You’d think I killed them the way they went on about this. I can’t believe they figured out I was behind it anyway,” Gruzelvelt continued. Zark was tempted to roll his eyes. It was obvious why most of the city suspected him of killing the leader. For one thing, it is absolutely true Gruzelvelt had done it. For another, it was obvious he had done it. He’d talked just the day before about how much he wanted to take on the role of city leader. He’d complained about his boss and made it publicly known he wants to change. Why would he be surprised that anyone suspected he was behind events that made that very change happen? Practicality was truly not Gruzelvelt’s strong suit as far as his Zark could tell.
That was something else the secretary knew he needed to share with his leader. “Speaking of concerns, it seems the junior wizards have some themselves,” he said. At Gruzelvelt’s clear confusion he continued. “Well, their orders are to go hunt down these anchors without knowing where they are or what supplies they’ll have to get it done. Probably at least the supplies should be covered by us,” Zark prompted.
Stroking his beard Gruzelvelt nodded. “I see,” he muttered. And he almost did. The thought that his advisers hadn’t set up a supply chain or filled in any of the blanks for his orders was upsetting, of course. It was obvious that these people were completely inept. (The thought that he hadn’t actually assigned anyone to take care of the newly required work of trip planning didn’t occur to him, and probably still wouldn’t have made a difference to him. The only thing that was important to Gruzelvelt was that his subordinates should have read his mind and figured out the details for themselves.) Gruzelvelt suppose he’d have to be more specific about his orders in the future if they couldn’t handle such a small thing and figure it out for themselves.
“Well then, you’ll just have to send in the leaders so I can give them a good talking to,” Gruzelvelt said. Zark rushed off to comply. Quickly the journeyman and elders in charge of arranging matters within the city were summoned to no one was assigned for overseeing trips outside of the city, mainly because almost no one went outside of the city–and were given a good scolding. Gruzelvelt was surprised when they arrived and refused to allow themselves to be scolded. Instead they steered the conversation to their own concerns about his fitness as a leader. The old man insisted that they were responsible for listening to him, and not the other way around, but still they managed to get him to actually speak on the issue. Eventually they managed to force him to admit that he had taken down the former leader. He gave an insincere smile and promise that he’d never think of doing the same for them, which comforted no one. But still he kept talking, and eventually had some hope they might have safety. It appeared as long as no one hurt their new leader’s pride, he would consider them necessary to keep around. His dislike of having to continue doing everything in the city hands on as he did when he was a mere secretary shone through his words is obviously a far greater concern to him than just the minor quibbles about being stuck relying on the work of his subordinates and those people he thought were beneath him.
There was almost enough ego in his words that made the others in the room question how exactly he’d manage to get the witches into an alliance with them. Everyone knew witches and wizards were from the same race of people, but were separated by gender at birth. They met up once a year to discuss official matters and ensure there continued to be births. But the witches were famously as proud as Gruzelvelt. Even more importantly, they were known to get revenge and play tricks on those who injured their egos. It seemed unlikely that Gruzelvelt had managed to be a diplomat and get the witches to sincerely help Domed City. The journeyman wondered at how their leader manage this though they were too smart to bring up their questions out loud.
Eventually Gruzelvelt agreed to some important promises. Namely, he agreed to not kill anyone else within the city itself unless they betrayed him or the city. They weren’t satisfied by just that though, oh no. They took it one further and drafted up a checklist to give a clear and specific list of offenses that could be considered treason or betrayal. For anything else they forced their leader to promise in writing that he would consult with the council of elders before offing anyone. It wasn’t a lot as far as concessions go, but those in the room seemed to be fairly satisfied that they had gotten as good a deal as it was possible to get from Gruzelvelt.
Meanwhile the talks between the junior wizards had spread to even the apprentices. The younger and lower ranked wizards were discussing things among themselves. There was a lot to say. For one thing, Gruzelvelt had killed his boss to move up a rank. For another, he had also done so in pursuit of getting some fair recognition for his own work, instead of having all the public credit stolen from him. Both points were of great interest to the lower ranked wizards. They themselves also wanted to move up in the ranks faster. They wanted to actually be acknowledged for their own hard work. And they wanted those things now, while the city was still filled with unease and the illusion of opportunity was strong.
More meetings took place between the younger wizards. Eventually someone even dropped a word or two in an unranked individual’s ear. The youngest unranked, the children, weren’t very concerned or involved in the ranking system of the city, because they were confident in the knowledge that once they grew a little older, they’d be allowed to move up. But the older unranked wizards, those who were denied a rank for years or even decades after their peers, were restless. Very few adults in the city had no rank, but they did exist. And they were unhappy to be trapped in that position. They were eager to take advantage of this new opportunity and move forward into a real position in the world. At the very least, they discussed among themselves, they wanted to be given the right to have names and their own living spaces somewhere. Being forced to live on the hearth of whatever building you were assigned to care for, or in the case of groundskeepers assigned to sleep in designated three-sided shelters dotted across the city parks and the roads, was terrible. Being denied names was even worse. The unranked adults at least had names for each other when they managed to meet up with one another in secrecy because they were expected to spend all of their time working instead of using it on the privilege of free time that only ranked adult wizards were allowed. But their nicknames were only for thems
elves- everywhere they went in the city, just going about their jobs, they were branded with their lack of rank instead of given their own names. They were effectively denied identities, which was a situation few can work through for long. They knew one of the biggest sources of the Alchemist’s ranks were run away unranked wizards and witches, but still they stayed in the city. They wanted to be acknowledged for doing the grunt work that let the other wizards focus on making new spells and learning new things. They wanted to at least receive a little recognition and better life standards in return for staying in the city and working for it when they could have just as easily run away like the others had done. They found each other and started to talk among themselves and agree that they required change as well.
When news of this unrest came to Gruzelvelt he acted very differently than he had to the journeymen and elders’ demands. For these junior wizards, and even worse these insignificant unranked wizards, he quickly cracked down on the unrest. Food provisions were halved for both groups, and the junior wizards had their lights taken away from the barracks. Extra hours of work were also added to both groups to punish them for even daring to share their concerns. But still, Gruzelvelt followed through on his new contract with the more senior wizards. He had promised to only leave imprisonment or death as a punishment for more severe crimes against the city and his rule, and he complied, much though that grated on his nerves.
Nerves are touchy things to comfort, so Gruzelvelt decided the best way to deal with them was to head over to Witch City. He darted he discussed things with the Head Witch at last year’s meeting, but anyone who deals with which his nose that you should never take them for granted. Gruzelvelt was a wiley old fox who knew he’d have to double check the loyalty of the Head Witch in person. It is one thing to bank on a verbal agreement to hold after so many months, but it was something altogether different to believe everything still holds true with a major shift in leadership. As especially a concern for Gruzelvelt because he knew that the Head Witch had always been relatively close to Breitsch. He suspected that even dated at some points in their lives. It is going to take a lot of convincing to persuade the head which to stand by her word after so much had changed. All he could hope for was that word hadn’t reached their sister city about this terrible rumor going around that Gruzelvelt himself was responsible for the death of Breitsch, which would surely upset the man’s former flame.
