Guild Mage: Apprentice

Liv had expected Vivek Sharma to perhaps lead her up onto the walls of Akela Kila; she'd also wondered if there were, perhaps, a shrine to the trinity located somewhere in the fortress that the priest might wish to visit.

Instead, the old man led her down into the courtyard, where a cool night breeze tossed locks of their hair out behind them. Liv saw neither carriage, nor saddled horse, nor even one of immense southern hastim, painted in many bright colors, by which he might have made the journey up the great hill and into the fortress. The soldiers opened the gate for them without the priest giving any noticeable command, and Liv followed him down the road onto the slopes of the hill.

"You didn't walk all the way up here, did you?" Liv asked. Small puffs of red dust rose around her boots, and around Sharma's sandalled feet.

"I did," the priest said. "It does me good, walking. I walk everywhere, unless there is some great, pressing reason not to. I think that it also helps to remind me just who it is that I am here to serve. When one spends their life looking down on the neighborhoods, whether from atop a wall or atop one of the hastim, one tends to formulate an idea that these people are separate, somehow." He waved out an arm, to indicate the city spread out around the bottom of the hill.

"I never once rode in a carriage, or on a horse, until I was twelve years old," Liv said. "Whenever my mother and I went out on market day, we would have to walk down from the castle through the rich part of the city, and watch the carriages go by. I always felt like the people looking through the windows were staring at us, thinking, 'look at those two, they're so poor they have to walk.' And the wheels would splash mud up at us."

"But you know," she continued, "once I started riding in carriages myself, I realized they probably weren't thinking about us at all. They were thinking about where they were going, what they were going to do there."

"There is that feeling of separation," Vivek said. "The driver or the mahout is the only one who needs to be concerned about how to get you where you are going – which road to take, or the fact there are so many people crowding around an overturned wagon of vegetables, and there is no room to pass. All too often, power insulates our leaders from the people they are supposed to protect. I sometimes think it should be required that no one above a certain rank can go anywhere except by their own two feet, but I suppose it is not practical."

"It would have taken us a lot longer to get here and help," Liv pointed out.

"That is so," Vivek agreed. They'd travelled halfway down the hill, now, following the road, and the noise of the city was beginning to rise around them. Not far ahead and below, Liv could see houses, shops, buildings of all sorts, lit by oil lamps. Overhead, the pale ring in the sky shone brightly.

"Have you ever wondered why the old gods put it there?" the priest asked her.

"I've been wondering a lot of things about why the vædim built the things they did, lately," Liv told him. "Not just the ring, but the waystones, and all the different ruins."

"For similar reasons that we now build roads, bridges, ports and fortresses, I would imagine," the priest said. "Those in power decided that a thing was needed, and caused it to be built by those under their control. Immaterial authority made manifest, from stone and wood and metal."

Liv started at the word 'authority,' and wondered whether Vivek Sharma was using the word with a double meaning, trying to say two things at once. If both the Eld and the mages' guild understood the concept, surely there must be some people in Lendh ka Dakruim who did, as well? And the old man had used a word of power that relied on Authority, hadn't he?

"But for this evening," the priest continued, "I am more concerned with the way that power structures act to preserve their own interests. And that is why I wanted to speak with you. Do you know what I mean?"

All of a sudden, Liv felt like she was back at the college, or perhaps in Master Grenfell's chambers at Castle Whitehill, about to receive a lesson. "In Lucania," she began, "before I was born, a great council made a law about who could wear what kinds of clothing. The merchant guilds had started to grow very rich, almost as wealthy as the barons at the time. But the barons wanted to remind the merchants they weren't equals, so they said that certain colors or fabrics could only be worn by members of the nobility."

"I notice that your dress is blue," Vivek said, looking her up and down. "I imagine, given that law, that you did not always wear colors like that."

Liv shook her head. "Gray, and white aprons. It wasn't until later, once Duchess Julianne wanted to adopt me, and once I met my father, that I wore colors."

"I do not know much about your life," the priest admitted. "But from what you have told me, it sounds like you have an experience that few share: to be born into one of the lower jati, and then accepted into one of the higher. Such a thing is very difficult here. We are born into our life's work, just as our fathers and mother were before us. I suspect that is part of the reason your friend Arjun left Lendh ka Dakruim. But, power structures. Yes, the barons of your homeland have been in power for a very long time - nearly a thousand years. And they remain in power because they act to preserve themselves against threats. My point is this, Kumari Livara: change is a threat."

"Any change?" Liv frowned. "Isn't some change good, though? The mages' guild was a change, but it's meant that more people are trained in magic, and the barons have help containing eruptions. That's better for everyone."

"And is there no one who argues against your guild?" the old man asked. "No point of contention – or perhaps a limit against which the guild chafes?"

"Well," Liv said, thinking a moment. "No one who joins the guild is allowed to inherit a title. That means that heirs only go to Coral Bay for a few years, to learn what they can, and then back home."

"A requirement the barons have imposed to restrain the guild's power," Vivek observed. "After all, it is the barons who vote on your kingdom's great council, is it not? This means that your guild can never accumulate enough voting barons to make real change on its own. Any concession must be bargained for with the barons, and will come with a price."

"I think they usually frame that as a way of making certain that heirs aren't getting killed in rifts," Liv said, slowly.

"A much more palatable explanation." Vivek Sharma smiled, and led Liv down the last stretch of road and into a bustling neighborhood. Knots of people moved up and down the street, vendors sold hot food from carts, and to Liv's surprise, small furry creatures with surprisingly human faces and hands scampered across the rooftops, leaping from one building to the next. "Bandar," the old man said, pointing. "They steal food, and anything else they find interesting."

"Do they ever turn into mana beasts?" Liv asked.

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"Oh yes," Sharma said. "And they can be very difficult to deal with when they do. The point I am trying to make, Livara," he continued, "is that Ractia represents a change. A goddess risen cannot be fought using the power structures that have persisted for centuries, because those structures - and the leaders who sit atop them - are threatened by any change. They will not give up power, or share it, willingly."

"The kings and barons of Lucania, the ksatriya of my own land, whoever leads in the north –"

"Councils of elders," Liv said.

The priest shrugged. "The people in these positions have gotten comfortable. Many of them no longer see their power as a responsibility, or even a privilege: they see it as their right. Birthright, in many cases. And they will react violently to anyone who would take that away from them. Which is why most of them will fight against you."

"Against me?" Liv blinked.

"If you continue on the path you spoke of tonight, yes," Vivek Sharma told her. "Here, have you ever tried lassi?" Liv shook her head. "It is a drink made from mango juice and dahi, and very sweet. Come, you must try it while you are in my homeland."

He led her over to one of the street carts and exchanged a few words with the vendor, who bowed his head and prepared two cups of turned wood, filled with a bright yellow, thick drink. While the man worked, Liv wandered a few paces over, to a display of beautiful silk scarves, one of which she decided to buy as a present for Tephenia. After a moment's hesitation, she selected two more: one for Sidonie, and one for Rosamund. By the time she had them all tucked under her arm, the drinks were ready.

Liv accepted her cup from Vivek Sharma and raised it to her mouth. When she tried sipping it, she found it cool, and she could feel that some clung to her upper lip until she used her tongue to get it off. She passed a few coppers to the vendor, who bowed, and then Sharma led her off again.

"For as long as anyone can remember, the depths of the rifts have been a place that no one ventured," the priest said, picking up the thread of the conversation as he led her through the city streets, seemingly with no particular destination. "Now you wish to go there, and learn what you can learn, in spite of the danger. Those who believe in the threat of Ractia see the need, and will go with you. But others – such as our own Commander Jagan – well, you must have noticed how angry he became."

Liv nodded. "Yes. Though I could not understand everything he said to the general."

"Tradition this, and tradition that," Vivek said, with a dismissive wave of his hand. "And he will not be the last. Tradition is the pillar that supports those in power, young woman. 'We must do things so because we have always done them so."

"Forgive me," Liv began, then continued before she could reconsider. "But you also seem to have a good deal of power, Paṇḍita. General Mishra did what you wanted him to do."

"So I do," the priest agreed. "But I have also always been a troublemaker, and happily, I am now old enough that most of my enemies are dead! So, there are few to object. But you have been lucky in finding a priest who is – eccentric, like me. Most of them have forgotten what the temple of the trinity was founded upon."

"Freedom?" Liv said.

"Rebellion!" Vivek Sharma corrected her. "Do you think the fall of the old gods was not a great change? When Miriam raised her banner, who was she raising it against, hmm? Those in power! Of course they fought back. The old gods thought dominion over this world was their right, not a privilege, and so they resisted change. Who does that remind you of, eh?"

"Are you comparing the King of Lucania to one of the old gods?" Liv asked him.

The old man shrugged, and sipped his drink. He led her around a corner, onto a quiet street that seemed to end in a small garden. "I am telling you not to be surprised when those in power do not agree with you," he said. "You've decided you're going to fight a god. Most of them aren't ready to admit she's even returned. Rather than expect help, I think you should begin to expect they will resist you."

"That's stupid," Liv argued, almost forgetting the drink in her hand. "The Day of Blood happened here too, didn't it?" She waited for the priest to nod before she continued. "And now three eruptions, all at once? What do they think is happening? One of your mages even ran off to serve her, do you know that? Aariv? He was on the beach at Coral Bay not a week ago, and part of the assault on Soltheris before that."

"Not a mage," Sharma told her. "A priest. Come." He led Liv into the garden, through vined trellises resplendent with flowers, and past benches carved from stone. Finally, tucked away from the bustle of the city, they found a statue of Sitia, adorned with garlands, offerings at her feet.

"Lady of Changes," Liv murmured, and bowed her head.

"Out of dozens of gods," the priest continued, his voice lower now, "only three took Miriam's side. A few, like Bælris, stood aside or left. But most of them acted as was within their nature, within their own interests. The preservation of the order that kept them above us."

He sighed. "We have gone from a temple of rebels, to a temple of hidebound old men and women. The structures which have preserved peace until now, young woman, are not equipped to fight this battle. If I was younger, I would go with you when you leave," Sharma told her. "But I am an old man. So I will give you what help I can, because wars are fought by the young. Rebellions are led by the young. So, sit."

Liv saw there were two stone benches, each curved to form a kind of broken semi-circle, facing the statue of the goddess. She tucked her dress in beneath her, lowered herself onto the stone, and took another drink of her lassi. "Aariv," she said. "You recognize his name."

"I do." The priest nodded. "He was a young man who sought change, as well. Our jati, you see, have preserved the same words for a very long time. The ksatriya teach Vefta and Vere, to move with the power and speed of the gods. Our healers, like your friend Arjun, you are aware of. And my order use Bheudh to see the truth of men's hearts, and Sed to calm our more violent passions. But Aariv, much like your mages' guild, believed in studying magic, in expanding our knowledge. He went to Lucania, and to the north, and he returned with a new word of power. He wanted to teach it. His elders refused to allow this."

"It was Æter, wasn't it?" Liv asked, and Vivek Sharma nodded. "I recognized it," she said. "My first teacher used that word. He never said anything about his family teaching someone, though. I'd guess Aariv learned it up north. Maybe from House Iravata."

"I cannot tell you that," the priest said, with a shrug. "I do not know. But I believe that resentment ate away at him. And if Ractia offered him power, knowledge – I can see how he might come to serve her."

"He's going to have the same words you do, isn't he?" Liv asked. "As well as fire."

"Yes. At least three words of power - more likely four," Vivek said. "Better for you to assume that he has learned blood, than not. And do not underestimate him, Kumari Livara. He is talented. Very talented. I think that made it all the worse for him - to have the talent, and be denied its use."

"You want me to fight him," Liv said. Sometime during the conversation, she'd finished her drink, and now she set the wooden cup aside, on the bench next to her.

"Want? No." The old man shook his head. "Say, rather, that I fear it. I fear how many people he will kill - has already killed."

"I've killed one of them already," Liv admitted, looking down at the earth between her boots. "Karis. He was one of the Antrian war-machines, but before that he was something else. Alive. There was a brain inside his chest in this horrible glass case." She shuddered at the memory.

"If they know that, they will come for you. Perhaps not here, yet," Vivek said. "You may have moved quickly enough for that. Do not remain with us long enough for the goddess to learn where you are."

"Are they going to help us?" Liv asked, looking up at the statue again. "Like last time?"

"If you are asking me whether I know the minds of gods, I do not," the priest admitted. "I know what is taught about the end of the last war. TSenapatiis threw a star down from the sky, to destroy the city of the gods at last. Antris, Asuris, and Ractia, at least, were said to be there when the star fell. The land was broken, and the ocean surged up in great waves against all the shores of the world. Dust filled the sky, and blotted out the sun. And where the city of gods had been, only a great crater in the earth remained."

"Godsgrave," Liv said.

Vivek Sharma nodded. "We thought Ractia had perished there. Now she has returned. I cannot say whether the gods will help you, Kumari Livara. I cannot even tell you for certain whether they are still here. Perhaps, like Bælris, they have departed. I think that you must do the best you can, and not count on them to save you."

"So we're alone."

"Not alone, no," the old man said. "You have friends willing to descend with you into the Well of Bones, do you not?" He stood from his bench, approached Liv, and rested his hand on her shoulder. "And I believe you will find more. Come, let us get you back to the fortress. Tomorrow, you go into the depths."