Chapter 17: Vigilance

Subject: Mille Location: Maliscade - The Blightbane Guild

“Remember when you helped me with that ‘problem’ in the wake of the last cleansing initiative?”

Mille spoke softly, even though there was only one other person in the small Intelligence Division storeroom. None of the documents stored here were of notable value, so the room was not under scrutiny.

Though Guild Divisions operated on independent power hierarchies, the Intelligence Division had positions that could only be filled by the most learned scholars. These were scholars with numerous certifications, who often preferred the luxuries of private employment, where the pay was higher and recognition more available.

The Intelligence Division also handled sensitive matters that wise employees wouldn’t even dare to speak of. For this reason, many gave them a wide berth, but that was easy when they often kept to themselves.

Dekker, Intelligence Division magical researcher and part-time Guild instructor looked up at Mille with a puzzled expression. While he sat on a crate in the middle of the room, tired eyes searched for meaning in her vaguery.

The man was in his mid-forties, but he was married to work like many employees in recent years. That left no time for romance. He was of average height, with a frail build. Balding black hair and sad brown eyes told it all.

“I helped you with a problem?” he asked, trying to remember.

Intelligence wasn’t the forward face of the Guild, so Dekker was free to let the burdens of his work show, back in this closet of a workspace.

After this problem is tended to, I should look in on how they are treating him. Strategically, of course, and without it getting back to him.

Dekker’s ivory lab coat was perpetually wrinkled. The vertical strips of umbraviolet lining the sides of the uniform were the thinnest variant available to resident researchers. It was a visual representation of his status in the Intelligence Division’s Research staff hierarchy.

Broadly, the more prominent a researcher’s stripes, the higher up they were on the chain. Mille didn’t know the precise details, but she remembered Dekker had weighty responsibilities contradictory to his uniform’s modest appearance.

The researcher’s face lit up with the glimmer of recognition, quickly sinking into a mild frown.

“Are you referring to the ‘Vigilance’ spell?” he asked.

“Yes,” Mille confirmed. She was already starting to nod off.

“You know… sleep is an important thing. A spell is no substitute for a good night’s rest. You put wear on your muscles, there can be social repercussions, and any number of additional consequences may arise.”

“I appreciate the information,” she replied, trying her best to navigate the subtleties of human vocal inflection. “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”

This was true. Mille preferred to rely on herself and her own resources. This wasn’t out of any naive sense of pride, but simply because she didn’t want to drain more than her share of resources.

She wasn’t afraid of Dekker. She was also sensitive to the delicate balance of power in the Guild. Having worked here long enough, Mille had to come to know this Intelligence Division employee personally. Even as a casual acquaintance, he would not betray her confidence.

“Yes, I suppose I can believe that…” he mumbled with a nod. “Your dedication to work is legendary, and you certainly aren’t the prideful type. I’ll do it.”

“How much?”

“What? I did it for free the last time. It is a work expense. I trust you’re worth the fuel.”

Mille was not going to compromise her integrity, but she didn’t have to lie to protect Alice and herself from the dangers that come with associating with a foreigner.

“This is a personal matter.”

“Riiiight,” Dekker chortled sarcastically. “You need to stay up for-” He stopped when he saw her stoic expression. “You’re serious?”

It would amount to roughly a day’s pay, at cost, but Mille found that acceptable.

“It isn’t easy for me to cast such an advanced spell,” Dekker explained, sobering up to the flow of the conversation. “I require an auxiliary fuel supply of certain standards. Charke fuel.”

“We mine crates of Charke every day from Clarion festerfonts alone,” she pointed out.

“The government forbids us from refining it ourselves. You are more involved with those endless autonomy negotiations, but even I know that. We need to contract it out, but most of our Charke contracts go to Greengal processing. I’ll need to requisition a canister of Albrite for this.

Dekker reached out with his hands to try and illustrate his point. He moved one hand in a wave motion while the other was held flat.

“Using Greengal for casting is tricky. The fluctuating peaks and valleys of energy are too extreme. Too low and the mage is put at risk, too high, and harm can come to the spell’s target,” Dekker eagerly emphasized.

He seemed happy to have someone to talk to about this subject. This was his passion, but Mille was pressed for time.

“I’ve seen machinery draw from rows of canisters in parallel, to split the difference, but we don’t have access to anything like that here. Albrite really is the only way to safeguard against a miscast. Trust me… you do not want me to miscast a Vigilance spell.”

“Albrite it is. Even so-” Mille began to press on, but Dekker interrupted both her speech and her internal cost calculations.

“You’ve heard of that incident on the border, right? I know you keep yourself out of most of that, but you must have. It’s your division.”

“I heard we lost a Hexknight of Sacrifice,” she admitted.

“Our ravenous neighbors seem to have learned to use magic to penetrate The Barrier. You didn’t hear this from me, but one of their mage slaves was forced to turn their body into some kind of breaching charge. This new weapon created a gap in our defenses just long enough for a small invasion party to slip in.”

Mille remained silent. She thought of the stranger sleeping closeby, locked in one of the meeting rooms. Was he somehow related to this? He looked human, but could that bizarre attachment linine the back of his spine be some kind of slave collar?

“With The Martyr weakened and foreign saboteurs in our borders… there will be a power struggle,” she predicted.

“The Channeler’s position is made precarious through the weakening of the Paragon of Sacrifice. They have been trying to press Guild mages into service ever since. He can’t force us to join up, but envoys tempt us with large sums of coin. I think the war is starting again,” Dekker predicted in a morbid tone.

He anxiously massaged the top of his head, looking down at a disheveled stack of papers on the floor.

“With a new world war starting, we will have a more difficult time securing fresh Albrite canisters. Is that what you mean to say?” Mille asked.

“Just that. Independent processing teams already charging us much more than we ever paid at peak price last year. I’m sorry to have to interfere with your personal matters. Just what is it you need the extra time for anyway?”

“It is a personal matter,” Mille adamantly stated.

The anxious red seeping from her conduits alerted her to having temporarily lost composure. If Dekker noticed, he didn’t let on.

“Is it a date? Did Alice finally convince you to take some time off with her?” he began firing off guesses.

“I’m just going shopping for some equipment with a new seeker.”

“But not a friend?”

“No, he is definitely not a friend.”

“You’re making sure he doesn’t die? Forced into that line of work with no alternatives, then?” Dekker asked.

Mille didn’t answer. These questions were straying into dangerous territory.

“I won’t ask any more questions... if you let me put in a request for recompensation,” he bargained. “You have your own reasons, and I have mine.”

“Why are you doing this?” she demanded, tired and frustrated.

“Being difficult? Or the rest?”

“All of it.”

“Tell me something instead. Do you think of me as a friend?”

“I… don’t know how you would define the label.”

“You know… a response like that can be hurtful to some,” Dekker pointed out, rubbing his forehead. “But I know that is just the way you think. All this time, you’ve worked with us... you’ve been taking on our responsibilities when we have legitimate excuses.”

“I don’t follow. I admit that I’m tired, and I could be wrong, but it sounds like you’re saying that it is somehow abnormal to recognize when someone needs help,” Mille remarked.

“No,” Dekker corrected. “I’m calling you a hypocrite. You enjoy your work, maybe more than most, so you set different standards for yourself.”

Mille just wanted Dekker to cast the spell. Right now, she needed to be alert to keep a watch on the stranger.

If he is a spy, he is a bad one. Putting on a benignly suspicious display could be an act to somehow convince me to continue to conceal his identity. He could be hiding nefarious intentions.

Caim accepted Alice, Mark of Blue and all. Mille could empathize with her friend on that point. After spending over a decade with self-loathing and fear of persecution, a person came along who saw her for something more.

The stranger didn’t seem to treat Mille like she was beneath him, either. Caim gawked like he’d never seen a faron before, but he was respectful enough to hold back when he could.

I won’t intervene until he forces me to. Alice is a smart girl, she can protect herself, Mille reasoned. But just who falls asleep like that in a foreign land!?

“I’ll put in a request that explains you are taking some personal time to visit shops to help a new seeker get equipped,” Dekker suggested. “I believe it is a good opportunity to refamiliarize yourself with the Guild’s merchant partners. The request for recompensation will be mine, and it will be up to our superiors to decide whether or not it is a justifiable expense. If the request is denied, you can pay for the spell later.”

“I accept those terms,” Mille relented.

Enemies in Shroud, Impending war, and an uptick in instances of Blight proliferation. Even if Caim isn’t a spy, even if he truly wants to avoid getting involved in politics… he will be dragged in along with the rest of us.