The Wandering Inn_Volume 1, page 397
“Why?”
The Centaur leaned towards Beatrice, but the Dullahan closed her lips in a slight smile.
“Secret. Pay me and I’ll tell.”
Everyone chortled at that. Calvaron was fairly rich in secrets Ceria had learned, and many students and mages came to him to exchange tidbits for goods and services. But Beatrice had her own collection of secrets, as any longtime mage in Wistram did.
“I don’t know if it’s worth a juicy secret. Would you consider a trade for something else? How about other goods and services rendered…?”
Calvaron wiggled his eyebrows at Beatrice and she smiled a bit wider.
“Not worth my time.”
“Ah, you!”
They liked each other. It was quite obvious from the way they flirted. Calvaron did it openly, Beatrice with deadpan remarks that might be serious or a joke; you could never tell which.
“Looks like you’d better cough up a secret if you want to know, Calvaron. Me and Pisces don’t have enough to cover the costs.”
“I’ll pass. You don’t collect as many secrets as I do by spending them frivolously.”
Calvaron waved a hand. Pisces looked intrigued and leaned forwards over the table.
“Just how many secrets have you obtained during your stay here, Calvaron?”
“That’s a secret in itself, my dear Pisces. But suffice it to say, I’ve got more than one person’s little tidbits locked away in my head.”
The Centaur tapped his head importantly. Pisces looked impressed as he nodded, but Ceria thought the Centaur was full of it. She raised her eyebrows.
“You mean, you’re a secret keeper? Ooh. Fancy.”
Pisces snorted. Across the table, Beatrice choked on her food. She had to place her head on the table while the rest of her body pounded on her chest. Ceria and Pisces nearly fell over themselves laughing as Beatrice’s face contorted and Calvaron had to reach over and slap her on the back a few times. When she was done, the Dullahan turned her head with her hands so she could glare at the two.
“Not that funny.”
“It was pretty funny. No one calls people like me secret keepers or—or shadow brokers or anything like that, Ceria. I’m just a broker, a middleman. Or middle-Centaur if you like. It doesn’t roll off the tongue as smoothly. I buy and sell.”
“And make a good profit, I’ll bet. You’re rich!”
“Wistram rich, my dear half-Elf. It’s not the same as being actually rich. If I left this small isle no one would know my name. Here I have a bit of power.”
“Which explains why you maintain your independent status. Any faction in the academy can treat with you without fear you’ll trade their secrets away. It’s a valuable position to be in.”
Pisces observed that as he glanced carefully at Calvaron. The Centaur’s eyes focused on Pisces and he gave the younger man a nod of respect.
“Sharp, aren’t you?”
“He hides it well. Tell us more about these factions, Calvaron. How did they pop up?”
“I don’t know. It’s a long story…”
Calvaron glanced at one of the windows that let bright sunlight into the room. Ceria knew this was just theatrics; the Centaur had very few classes she understood, and he liked to lounge around in the banquet hall with Beatrice.
“Come on, you’ve got time and we don’t have classes for the rest of the day. Give us new students a bit of history.”
The Centaur grinned as he popped another grape into his mouth.
“What, for free? This isn’t just gossip. Some of this stuff is important. I can’t just give it away! You know how it works. Secrets for secrets.”
Pisces and Ceria both groaned at the same time. Ceria was going to tell Calvaron she didn’t want to know that bad when Pisces raised a finger.
“Would a small one do?”
“For general history? I suppose.”
Calvaron’s eyes sharpened, and the Centaur leaned forwards. Ceria saw Beatrice’s hands move; the Dullahan’s head whispered something and Ceria felt magic around the four of them. Some other students looked around, but most seemed used to what was going on.
It was an exchange of secrets. Calvaron and Pisces spoke to each other, but Ceria only saw a blur around their mouths and heard nothing. The Centaur had pulled a small crystal out of a belt pouch; it glowed bright red as Pisces spoke. The Centaur nodded, and in the next moment the bubble of silence dissipated.
“Well, I’d say that qualifies. How did you find out?”
Pisces smiled enigmatically at the Centaur.
“Secrets for secrets. To learn my method, you’d have to pay quite a lot, my dear Calvaron.”
“I suppose I deserved that.”
Ceria was dying to know what Pisces had told Calvaron—it could be just pointless information, but how had Pisces found out? She knew she wouldn’t get an answer from the Centaur though, so she pointed at the gem that the Centaur was putting back into the pouch at his waist.
“Is your truth crystal broken? It glowed red when Pisces spoke.”
He shook his head, grinning.
“Nope. It’s a little trick. Most truth spells glow green or blue or white when someone tells the truth, right? I’ve enchanted mine to do the opposite. Sometimes you can throw someone off with it.”
Pisces nodded as if this was perfectly sensible, but Ceria just rolled her eyes again.
“Everything in Wistram seems like a trick or mind game.”
“That’s just because you’re new. You’ll get used to it quick enough. Now, I believe I owed you some history?”
All four students took the moment to refill their plates. Ceria took some cold cubes of ice and splashed them into a sweet drink of fruit, delighted at the luxury of it. She sipped at her drink as Calvaron began speaking.
“I suppose you know Wistram has been around for thousands of years. It was founded oh, way back, when a lot of nations were at war and mages wanted a place to learn and teach in peace. Well, Wistram may have gained and lost power over the years, but it’s always been independent. No nation controls us—we have an army of our own here and only a truly grand fleet could make it to our shores with weather spells raised against them.”
“Not to mention Wistram provides many services.”
Beatrice put that in. Calvaron nodded proudly.
“We do provide the best spells and mages. You can trust a Wistram-certified enchantment. And we can enchant weaponry and other artifacts as well. We do a booming trade with adventurers who want better gear or to have something analyzed—”
“Yes, yes. Wistram is great. That’s why we came here.”
Ceria cut in, impatient to get to the good part.
“What does this all have to do with factions? From what I’ve heard, they didn’t always exist.”
“No, Miss Busy half-Elf, they didn’t. And if you’d let me explain, you’d know that a few centuries ago, mages competed in Wistram quite fiercely. It was every mage for himself and they formed their own groups—but there was no faction. Instead, powerful mages attracted people to them. One of them was Archmage Zelkyr. Mind you, he wasn’t just an Archmage, but an actual [Archmage].”
“He obtained the class?”
Pisces’ eyes were shining, and Ceria scooted forwards on her seat. Calvaron nodded, looking just as excited by the idea.
“It’s a matter of history. The class does exist, and he and the other [Archmages] who ruled Wistram at the time all had them. But Archmage Zelkyr was the best. He was a Drake – famous, you know, for being able to damage one of the Walled Cities’ walls. But he was more famous for his ability to create Golems.”
“Cognita.”
Beatrice said it quietly. Calvaron nodded.
“Her and an entire army of Golems. They eventually made it so that Zelkyr was in undisputed control of Wistram. He alone explored the higher reaches of the citadel, searching for ancient magics left behind by the greatest mages in Wistram’s history.”
“Higher up? You mean, there’s places not yet explored in Wistram?”
Calvaron nodded as if it were obvious.
“Of course. How many mages do you think lived in Wistram? The greatest of them—legends who could cast countless magics—all settled the highest floors. If you go exploring higher and higher you’ll run across their creations, spells, and maybe their rooms. But imagine the amount of traps and dangerous spells up there? Just trying to break into a former mage’s room is deadly.”
“But Zelkyr had the monopoly on that, right?”
Ceria was beginning to understand what had happened, and why the upper floors were off limits now.
“He did indeed. Zelkyr ordered his Golems to guard the entrances to the upper levels and seal it off so only he could learn from the mages above. Of course, the other mages didn’t accept that and there was a huge battle. But in the end his surviving Truestone Construct—Cognita—imposed a new order on the surviving mages. They could live and study in Wistram, but the upper levels were for Zelkyr and the few he trusted alone.”
“Hence their current inaccessible state?”
“Exactly.”
Calvaron pointed a finger at Pisces as he stole a grape from Beatrice’s plate. She jabbed him with a gauntleted finger.
“Gah! Damn it Beatrice, it hurts when you do that!”
“Then don’t steal. Yes, Pisces, the upper levels are closed. The top three are only off limits for new mages, but after that—there is a door. Cognita and many golems guard it. It leads further up.”
“Okay, but why hasn’t anyone gotten Cognita to open it? Zelkyr is dead, right?”
“I’m getting to that! Hold on!”
Calvaron took a long drink, enjoying making Ceria and Pisces wait.
“One day, Cognita came down from the upper floors and announced that Archmage Zelkyr was dead. Ever since then, she and the other Golems have been maintaining Wistram. They still fulfill his orders by helping us, taking care of the academy, fighting off intruders and so forth, but his other order still stands. No one may venture above. So while Wistram is safe—”
“The higher magics are off-limits?”
Pisces looked dismayed at the thought. Calvaron waggled a finger at him.
“Just the ones that belonged to the greats. There’s plenty of mages here capable of casting Tier 5 spells, or even Tier 6. But higher than that…? You’ll have to get past Cognita first, and that’s pretty much impossible. If you challenge her, you’ll be fighting her and Zelkyr’s best creations.”
Beatrice’s armor shuddered a bit and she turned the corners of her mouth down.
“Golems. Scary.”
Ceria thought that was ironic coming from a Dullahan, but she had to admit that for all Beatrice was a disembodied head and a body covered in light metal armor, she was clearly alive. Cognita and the other Golems were not. There was an important distinction there.
“So Cognita’s not just a nice, friendly Golem?”
Calvaron snorted.
“She’s as nice as a Golem can be, which is sort of. But try to get past the door and…you’re dead. No one’s gotten past her since Zelkyr died.”
“And so far no one’s tried?”
“And so far no one’s survived.”
Beatrice said it quietly. Calvaron nodded soberly.
“Of course, countless mages challenged Cognita and the Golems in the past. Some did it by themselves, others attacked in groups or tried to catch the Golems off-guard. None succeeded. The Golems are powerful, and Cognita’s the strongest of them all. I’ve never seen her fight personally, mind, but there are other guardian Golems that Zelkyr made. Occasionally some group of mages decides to challenge them, but they’re always killed.”
Both Ceria and Pisces shuddered. Beatrice looked between them and shook her head with her hands.
“Don’t worry about it. So long as you never try to get past the door, you’ll be fine. And there are other places below the door that are still unexplored.”
“Like below. There’s plenty of passages unexplored there, although we do have a problem with the undead. There are a lot of bones stored in the catacombs and they sometimes reanimate people who get killed down there.”
“Lovely. And…wait, how does this have anything to do with factions?”
“I’m getting to that. You’re the most impatient half-Elf I know, Ceria.”
“I’m the only one who’ll put up with a Centaur like you, Calvaron.”
“Hah! True. Anyways, the factions in Wistram popped up because there’s no one mage who’s powerful enough to really control everyone like there used to be. Now our Archmages are just the greatest mages among us, not those with the actual class. And factions are just mages with similar ideals.”
“Like the Revivalists. My faction. You two should join if you pass the exam.”
Beatrice smiled at Pisces and Ceria. Calvaron rolled his eyes and tipped her head over.
“Stop that, Beatrice! Ignore her, you two. You don’t want to get wrapped up in factional politics before your exam. That could really hurt your chances to get in.”
“Why? Surely if we pledge to one faction, they could help us succeed?”
Pisces seemed curious. Beatrice took the moment to respond—she’d cast a spell that made all the hairs on Calvaron’s horse-half stand up, which the yelping Centaur was having to dispel.
“They might. But other factions don’t like giving one strength. So it’s a bad idea. Sorry.”
“Yeah.”
Calvaron gasped as he managed to remove Beatrice’s shocking hex. He glared at her, but she gave him a satisfied look and he decided not to escalate the situation.
“You won’t have to deal with them too much. Just know that some mages belong to a group with certain ideals. They differ in how they agree of course, but they stick together when it comes to voting or pushing their agendas. Illphres, for example. Remember her?”
Ceria ground her teeth together. She was still sore about not being taught any combat magic all this time she’d studied here.
“I do.”
“Well, she’s an Isolationist. Thinks we should only allow mages who are already strong to join and that we should be reaching for greater heights in magic. That’s why she didn’t want to teach you.”
“Can’t the other factions force her to teach?”
“They can…but Illphres is stubborn and it’s not worth the battle. They’ll use her not teaching to their advantage instead; the others will be able to say the Isolationists don’t contribute their fair share and be able to vote against them. So Illphres is harming her own faction, but she’s too influential for anyone to stand up to her.”
“And meanwhile we suffer for it.”
Ceria angrily stabbed her cold pork, but Calvaron just shrugged.
“It’s bad luck I’m afraid. Sorry. But there are other factions in Wistram you should know about. Your good friend Rievan, for instance, belongs to the Libertarian group. They want us to start taking sides with different nations and throwing our influence around.”
“Sounds like a bad idea.”
“Don’t let any of the Libertarians catch you saying that. A lot of them are from Terandria, and they take a deep interest in the politics from there.”
“So factions are something else we’ll have to worry about?”
Ceria didn’t like the thought of that, but Calvaron just chuckled.
“Not for a while, and certainly not until you pass your exam. And if you get strong enough, you might be able to deal with factions on your own. The more important you are, the less your connections and factions matter. Then it’s just about who you are as a [Mage].”
“But it sounds like unless I’m a powerful mage, I’ll need to join a faction or be in danger.”
Ceria pointed that out and Pisces nodded in agreement. Calvaron paused before shaking his head.
“Not necessarily. You see, the factions keep each other in check so that the independents like me can function. How can I explain it? Okay, let’s say someone—a certain angry Elementalist teacher for instance—wanted to harass you. Because he doesn’t like your ears.”
“He doesn’t like me because of my ears.”
“Yes, but he’s not actively trying to harm you or get in your way, is he? That’s because if he did start attacking you, the Revivalists and the Preservationists would be all over him. They don’t want him to alienate your people—or spread the rumor that Wistram is a speciesist institution.”
“Preservationists? That’s a long name, isn’t it?”
“They chose it, not us. Anyways, Mister Angry Elementalist would have to have a lot of support from his faction to get at you. He’d also have to consider your friends, and how much the other factions would retaliate if he went at you. Mind you, you’re hanging out with second and third-year students who aren’t powerful. Beatrice is a [Runeshaper] and I’m just a generalist [Mage], so we don’t have much clout.”
“You study runes, Beatrice? You never said.”
Beatrice nodded. She tapped at her armor where Ceria now saw some carved symbols etched into the metal.
“Working on some personal enchantments. Rune magic is very popular among Dullahans. But not powerful in faction.”
“Right. But don’t worry—Rievan’s not going to try anything. It would be too much trouble if he did and you’re not worth it.”
“Thanks.”
“Hey, it’s just politics. Like how you got stuck with Rievan and Illphres anyways. That was due to a squabble with the factions.”
“Really? Would you mind explaining how that happened?”
Pisces was interested, although Ceria wasn’t. Calvaron shrugged.
“You really want to know?”
“I do.”
“I don’t.”
“Well, I’ll tell Pisces and you can just eat your dead pig, Ceria. Now, the current mages teaching are mostly mages who like doing it. Some mages earn their keep and just live here by teaching. It’s not going to make them influential, but it is necessary and so they keep doing it. But a year ago, Tshysa, the old Drake who taught me and Beatrice, died.”
“Poor Tshya.”
“He had scale rot. Very nasty odor. He never cleaned himself right near the end.”
