4.13 The First Session

Bernt wanted to spend some more time catching up with his friends and he still needed to talk to Uriah about what else he might have learned from his novels, but as he approached the Scryer’s Office at the Mages’ Guild, he could already see that wasn’t going to happen. The place was very nearly as crowded as when he’d been there hours before.

Iriala’s token sped things up, but it still took Bernt quite a while to get someone’s attention long enough to get his mail. Iriala and Pollock had both responded, but Josie hadn’t. That was fine – it had only been a few days. She’d be busy working Jori’s case and besides, there was a war.

Iriala echoed Minister Jesra’s earlier insight, suggesting that Madzhuri legitimators might be able to offer some insight into the strange behavior of the Temple of Noruk – even those who weren’t working directly with them. Unlike Jesra, though, she urged him to speak openly about what had happened in Halfbridge, Loamfurth, and on the road to the Peaks. The others needed to know what the Duergar were capable of, or they might not take the threat seriously enough. The truth would serve them best, lending both him and Torvald some authority as the only people there who had actually seen the enemy.

Bernt knew that Jesra was trying to keep him out of trouble, but she was overestimating his ability to keep a low profile. He’d drawn a crowd yesterday at breakfast the moment people realized that he was from Halfbridge. If rumors began to circulate about his work with the Beseri military, or even this new sorcery project, he was going to draw attention. There was no way around it. It wouldn’t matter that it had nothing to do with the Duergar or the Invigilation – everyone would want to know how he was rehabilitating burnt out mages. This place was full of foreign nobles, mages and military officers, and the military implications were just too obvious to ignore.

All things considered, Bernt knew whose advice he was going to follow. He would send Jesra all the information he could – but he wasn’t going to go out of his way to keep his head down. It wouldn’t work, and it would only make him look like he had something to hide.

Pollock’s message had been brief, but informative. He expressed wonder and excitement at Bernt’s encounter with the elemental in the Phoenix Reaches, and urged him to send updates detailing his experiments with the new channels as soon as possible. Bernt hadn’t actually done any yet, but that would change soon. 

Regarding his questions about ‘refining mana’, the old wizard asserted that mana was simply that – mana. It had no grades of quality or density, and no evidence known to mages existed that any such thing had ever been observed. That reinforced Bernt’s suspicion that Song had been referring to the process of absorbing magical potential rather than anything else, but he would still look into it further, just in case. Lastly, the old man had included a number of book titles, including a theoretical treatise on elemental summoning, and a collection of Illurian pyromantic architectures that he could find at the guild library. 

His mentor, it seemed, had already anticipated what Bernt was going to do next.

As he’d feared, by the time Bernt composed and submitted his replies, it was already late afternoon. The hike back up to the Peaks would take up most of the rest of the day, and he wanted to be well rested for the start of the Conclave tomorrow. Sighing to himself, he made his way out of the city gates and tried not to think about what his feet would look like by the time he made it back up to the peaks. Maybe he could get a healer to help him out.

***

After a full night’s sleep and a few days to recover from his ordeal in the Phoenix Reaches, Bernt felt great for the first time in weeks. He’d managed to make a deal with a duke! One that would make him more money than he’d ever seen in his life and ultimately put him in charge of his own order of sorcerers. Him! He wasn’t even a magister. He’d planned to eventually try to create an organization for sorcerers through the Mages’ Guild, ideally with the help of Pollock and Iriala, but Olias had rendered years of planning and work unnecessary just by talking near the right set of ears.

Now, even if Josie failed and Jori’s own schemes didn’t bear fruit, he was on a path to power, money and influence. Sooner or later, he would bring his familiar home, and the likes of Radast wouldn’t be able to stop him anymore.

Torvald, on the other hand, looked ill. He was pale and his hands shook as he failed to eat breakfast. 

“You look like you’re going to throw up,” Bernt said as his friend stirred a spoon through a bowl of porridge listlessly. “What are you worried about? You’re going to do fine.”

They sat on a stone bench on the square in front of the Hall of Witnesses. The place was packed with priests, acolytes and legitimators. Some were already making their way inside, but most stood in tight circles, conferring in low voices. The other representatives of the Temple of Ruzinia sat nearby, forming a loose circle. Song sat still with his eyes closed, obviously meditating while Doreen chatted animatedly with the Illurian priestess and a man who Bernt assumed must be her legitimator. 

“Hey, have you noticed that you don’t have a Kallrixian representative for the temple?” he asked Torvald, trying to distract him. “That seems weird, right? Ruzinia called a representative from every other country… why not the one where she has patronage, or uh… matronage?”

Torvald wasn’t listening. “You know, Hannis, Surin and Angjou were the ones who originally agreed to call the Conclave here.” He put the spoon into the bowl and set it down on the ground. “I was just… there, really. The gods agreed, obviously, or they wouldn’t have called their representatives here, but I’m the only one left.”

“Okay,” Bernt replied, understanding the problem. “And you’re worried they’ll… ask you to explain?”

Did he have stage fright?

Torvald chuckled mirthlessly, the sound trailing off into something closer to a groan. “No. They’re going to interrogate me. I’ve been talking to people here for days. Everyone has questions, but none of it is about the Duergar or about the war. They all want to know the angle. Everyone has an agenda. They act like I planned all this, or maybe the king, or the Temple of Ruzinia – as if we were trying to get one over on the rest of them, somehow. How am I supposed to deal with that? I’m not prepared for this!”

Bernt nodded and took a bite of his own breakfast – he’d opted for another one of those strange loaves of bread stuffed with fruit salad. It was still a strange flavor, but it was nice. Chewing to buy himself time, he finally nodded. 

“I think you’ll be fine, actually. Who cares if they’re all playing an angle, right? I mean, you’re a paladin of Ruzinia. Angles are not your thing. There is a greater demon eating cities – what else is there to say? Just tell them what happened, and why the Invigilation needs to rearm and coordinate a united response.”

“I’ve tried that,” Torvald fumed. “They just keep digging because they don’t believe me!”

Bernt shrugged exaggeratedly. “So what? Just let them talk and we’ll tell Jesra what they’re saying. That’s what she wanted from us, anyway. Besides, do you remember what Olias told you on the road with the high priests? If you’re clear about what you have to say and you don’t respond to their games, they’ll eventually just work around you.”

The paladin grimaced and shook his head uncertainly, but at least a bit of color returned to his cheeks. He rose and nervously dusted off his already clean pants. The others were getting up, and the square was beginning to empty out as more and more priests poured into the building.

“Might as well get this over with. I’ll talk to you after the first session.”

Bernt grunted in acknowledgment and waved, returning to his breakfast. While legitimators were permitted to be here at the peaks, they wouldn’t be allowed to witness the proceedings unless specifically invited. Instead, they would be left out here to wait for news and talk amongst themselves. The Illurian priestess’s legitimator had already wandered off, joining one of the small clusters of people chatting nearby. Bernt considered following his example – it was what Jesra had asked him to do, after all, but he decided that would ruin an otherwise lovely morning. Better to get an idea of how this first session went, first. He had a feeling there would be precious little time to sit in quiet anonymity once the Conclave was fully underway.

***

The actual main hall of the Hall of Witnesses was a large circular chamber that looked bigger than the building it was in. Amphitheater style seating had been carved down into the bedrock, creating a large space with an unexpectedly high ceiling and a relatively small open area at the bottom. It looked like it could seat at least a thousand people, but only about half of the space had been filled.

Torvald hadn’t been a paladin long – only a few months, really. Despite that, he’d grown used to the presence of the goddess in his mind. Quiet words spoken into his ear at the right time, visual cues, and simple impressions all helped to guide him through situations that should have killed him. Ruzinia’s direct guidance was one of the reasons her paladins were so powerful. So long as he listened to her, he couldn’t be stopped.

Except, he was here on the goddess’ behalf now, and her voice was silent. He followed Doreen into the Hall of Witnesses, trying not to look as nervous as he felt. Until a few days ago, he’d managed to convince himself that he would mostly be able to fade into the background here. Since arriving, though, he’d learned differently. Everyone wanted to know what he knew – what King Renias was planning, or Count Narald or even General Arice of all people. One sneering old priest of Balarian had even implied that Ruzinia herself was somehow behind all this to “make herself relevant again.”

Down on the floor stood a tall, powerfully built man in a red and white Madzhuri uniform – one of only a handful of paladins that had been called to be here besides himself. Unlike the paladins of most gods, Noruk’s chosen always directly served the state as well as their temple. The man had gray hair and weathered skin, but he couldn’t have been much older than Ed considering how he held himself.

Thrusting his chin forward, he spread his arms to his sides and turned in a slow circle, meeting the eyes of the crowd.

“Friends, temple representatives from all corners of the former empire,” he began, speaking Madzhuri. The language, like all post-imperial languages Torvald was aware of, was very similar to Beseri – more nasal, with a few unusual words and even more unusual pronunciation, but it was close enough. “We have been Called here, each of us, by the gods to reaffirm and restore the Invigilation in its true purpose. To stamp out evil wherever we find it so as to secure the future of humanity.”

There were some murmurs in the crowd at that. The statement was… quite a bit more broadly worded than it should have been. The historical Invigilation’s purpose had been to destroy the Circle of Nine and their demons – a very narrow mandate, even if it had been broad in execution.

“We come today, to answer the call of the martyr, priest Hannis of Halfbridge of the Temple of Noruk, who in consensus with the late high priestess Surin of Halfbridge of the Temple of Eyeli, the late high priestess Angjou of Halfbridge of the Temple of Balarian and…” he paused for effect and Torvald cringed back in his seat involuntarily, “paladin Torvald of Halfbridge of the Temple of Ruzinia, petitioned the gods for aid and set into motion the events that brought us all here today.”

Torvald wished he could sink down into the floor as more and more eyes turned to look at him. The old paladin had moved and was now staring straight at him, raising a hand, palm up.

“As the only surviving initiator of this meeting, rise and share with us the details of the matter that has led us to this moment.”

He swallowed thickly, squared his shoulders and stood, sending a silent prayer to the goddess as he did.

She didn’t answer.