Chapter 9: The Guild Hall

The remaining carriage ride was actually quite short. The coach drove along the band of road around the castle, taking a corner to end up along the building’s south side. The entirety of the castle wall was the same, glorious construction of white with gold and silver gilding, with enormous arrays of symbols, Sigils, and text forming the large figures of men, gods, beasts, and more. If Owen were to guess, the wall was a solid thousand feet tall, and on the castle corner’s edge was a grand, extruded statue of a woman in shining golden armor, carrying a spear. Her bare feet extended out over the street itself, barely touching the ground, like an angel deigning to reach down to the world of mortals. One foot stepped in the middle street, and the other demarcated the road’s corner.

As they passed under the rear foot’s heel, which was so large it formed a half-arch over the road, Owen could see plainly that it was made from the finest white marble, without so much as a scuff or a crack in its smoothly carved surface. It made the craftsman in him marvel. There were no runes adorning her skin, but there was a certain majesty in the plainness, in the way the masons captured the inner curves of her soles.

“Everything about this place is amazing,” said Owen.

“Not everything,” said Azure. “The castle is for more than just its beauty. It conceals and obstructs the darkness beneath it.”

Owen nodded, reigning in his wonder. Demons lurked beneath this beautiful masterpiece, just waiting for a chance to kill everyone. Now that Owen thought on it, Ysvale’s existence spoke to the level of safety provided by the Castle, as well as people’s faith in its protection. If what Azure had said about Dungeon Ordimus was true, it was the functional equivalent of building a city around a nuclear reactor.

Great. I’m in fantasy Chernobyl, pre-explosion. Despite the general cynicism of the idea, Owen couldn’t help but smile. Fantasy Chernobyl honestly sounded pretty damn epic.

Eventually, they came to a stop at the mid-way point of the south wall. On Owen’s left was a large pair of double doors fashioned of what looked like well-shined platinum. Though the doors themselves were dwarfed by the castle wall framing them, they stood at least thirty feet tall.

Two simple glyphs were formed on the center of each door, with lines connecting them to some smaller glyph that was only a few feet off the ground and centered where the doors met. From here, Owen couldn’t quite--

“Owen, we’re here,” said Azure, nudging him.

“Oh?” said Owen, glancing at her. “I hadn’t realized that the Guild Hall was inside the castle.”

“It’s not,” said Azure flatly. “It’s across the street.”

“Oh,” said Owen, stepping out of the carriage as the coachman opened the door. He leaned on the car’s side as he rounded it to look at their destination.

The Guild Hall honestly reminded him of an old English manor, or some kind of Victorian castle. It was wide in its construction, its flagstones were old and worn, and the higher-to-reach areas were covered with a fine coat of moss. Its windows were rows of glassed arcades, with parapets forming a hedge around the high gabled roof.

If not for the literally godly castle across the road from it, the Guild Hall would have been the most breathtaking construction Owen had ever seen. It exuded age and history like a book given form in stone and wood. It had no lawn, but instead its front steps lead straight from the white paved road up to the wide open entrance.

On those steps sat a man in a long white jacket, the tails of which unfurled a bit down the steps beneath him. His hair was long like a lion’s mane, a brilliant orange that framed his golden eyes. He carried no weapons, but he was totally ripped, his chest bulging against his shirt beneath the jacket.

As Owen and Azure hobbled toward him, he stood. The man must have been nearing seven feet in height, made only larger by his position on the steps. “You two must be the folks I’m supposed to be healing.”

Azure nodded, doubling over and resting a hand against the man’s chest. “And you must be our healer.”

“Name’s Cathan,” said the healer, taking hold of Owen’s arm to help him and Azure up the steps. “You both look like you’ve been through hell. Let’s get you inside, get some beer in your bellies, and I’ll get you all healed up.”

“Thanks,” said Owen, letting himself be led into the Guild Main Hall. Upon crossing the threshold, he was hit with the savory scent of wood, beer, and food. Dozens of tables and benches dotted both wings of the hall, while a sort of reception desk stood waiting at the center of the back.

A pair of women in long skirts wearing navy blue surcoats stood behind the reception desk, talking with a group of… warriors? Mages? Owen wasn’t entirely sure. Some of them wore armor, and some of them wore robes. Some wore tunics, and some wore gambesons.

There were plenty of others just like them throughout the hall. Men and women, large and small, carrying weapons, staves, and more. Food occupied many of the tables, as did large mugs of drink. The steady hum of conversation drifted from table to table, interspersed with laughter and bits of shouting.

It reminded Owen of some kind of large camping lodge he visited once as a child. He couldn’t quite figure out why, but somehow this place felt instantly familiar and welcoming.

“I’ll just sit you right here,” said Cathan, gesturing to one of the open tables near the entrance.

“That’ll be fine,” said Azure as she and Owen sat on the long bench. Owen sank against the table’s edge, letting it support him as Cathan squatted in front of the both of them.

“So, you wanna tell me what happened to get you two in this shape?” Cathan said.

“Sentinels and Slugs,” said Azure. “We also had an encounter with a Lesser Wyvern earlier yesterday, but that only managed to knick me, really.”

The healer held up his hand as she spoke, drawing a Sigil in the air. Watching it from the opposite side, Owen noticed that he actually wasn’t drawing the Sigil per se-- the marks were far too precise and complex for his fingers. Rather, it was like the Sigil was coming into being around where his fingers were.

Once the symbol was finished, Cathan activated it, and a soft glow entered into his hand. He hovered it over Owen and Azure, tracing the outlines of their bodies like those weird wands they used at security in airports.

“Well, I’m picking up bone fragments embedded in the pair of you, some deep cuts, some lacerations, bruising, torn muscles, and over a dozen hairline fractures each. What levels are you two again?”

“I’m level six,” said Azure, “and he’s level three.”

Cathan whistled, giving the pair of them appraising looks. “You fought off Sentinels, you say?”

“Killed them, actually,” Owen corrected. “Though we went through hell to do so.”

“Yeah, I’m picking up bad signs of mana overuse in both of you,” said Cathan. “Though, it’s far worse for you.” He pointed at Owen. “I can heal the muscle tearing and the broken bones, but you’re still going to be feeling pretty dead for a while.”

“Just do it already,” said Azure.

“Alright, alright,” said Cathan. With his free hand, he drew another Sigil in the air, and when it was completed, that hand began to shine white. “I’m sure you already know this, but I’ll say it anyway: healing can...”

Owen didn’t hear his last words, as a terrible agony blossomed over his body, just closest to Cathan’s glowing hand. Wherever Cathan moved his hand, the pain followed, rippling through Owen’s skin and flesh like fire. He gasped in shock, clenching his fists and eyes shut as he tried not to cry out.

Up and down his body it went. His chest, his ribs, his abdomen, his legs, his arms, even his face and his eyes. He broke into a cold sweat, gnashing his teeth against the pain, before it at last subsided.

Residual bits of exhaustion lingered on Owen like an afterimage. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes to see a completely different person standing in front of him. Instead of the lion-esque giant of a man, there stood a scrawny, emaciated, ginger with way too long of hair.

“And there you go,” said the man. “All done.”

Wait, that was Cathan’s voice. “What happened to you?” said Owen, his eyes going wide as he realized that the thin, lanky, emaciated man was the same as the giant who’d agreed to heal them.

Cathan raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean? I healed you.”

“Yeah, but--”

“Owen here seems to have a little difficulty remembering basic knowledge,” said Azure, placing a hand on Owen’s thigh. A thigh that no longer hurt. Actually, none of Owen’s body seemed to hurt, except for perhaps a certain tiredness he felt all around. He touched his sides; they were whole, while on the bench next to him sat nearly a dozen bone shards, cleaned and white as if they were sunbleached.

“Oh, I see,” said Cathan with a bark of a laugh. “Well, in case you forgot, healing drains more than mana. It drains the fat and muscle of the healer. Getting through the two of you took pretty much everything I had. A small child could knock me over if they wanted. Actually, now that we’re on the topic,” he sat down at the table just across from Owen and waved down a barmaid. “Could I get a Healer’s Platter?”

“Coming right up,” she said. “Can I get you three anything to drink?”

“That’ll be a beer each,” said Cathan. Owen raised his hand to object, but the healer waved it away. “It’ll be my treat. Ain’t often I actually get to heal people anymore.”

“Alright, dears. I’ll get that out to you soon,” said the barmaid, taking off in the direction of other patrons.

Owen pursed his lips. “When you say you don’t get to heal people often, then what do you do normally?”

Chewing on the question for a bit, Cathan said, “You know about the city reservoirs, right?”

Owen shook his head.

“Did you get hit on the head or something?”

“Well, yes,” said Owen. “But that’s not why I don’t know anything. Just, explain it to me like I’m a child, preferably without the baby voices.”

Cathan barked a laugh. “Alright, then. Well, we’ve got the big old Valed River that runs by Ysvale, and we’ve got a canal that drains off a big portion of that water into the city. It’s where we get water for drinking, bathing, cooking, and everything else. Thing is, demons like to pour poison into the water upstream. Hell, they’ve even dammed the river a couple times in the past few hundred years. So, we’ve got reservoirs on the river side of Ysvale filled with water, and we’ve got healers working around the clock to purify that water to make it drinkable. It doesn’t drain us like actual healing does, but healing you the way I just did makes my Life Mana pool really small until I bulk up again.”

“Your mana pool is at least partially tied to your physical health, especially with Life Mana,” said Azure. “That’s why it’s so expensive to get a healer. Once they’ve healed you, they’re useless for months.”

“Hey, I’m not useless,” said Cathan, looking offended for but a moment, before he grinned out, “I have an extra mana pool: Light.”

“You’re a Light Mage?” said Azure.

“Well, no,” said Cathan. “The Life Mage College scooped me up when I was little. Diving is important and all, but we have plenty of Divers, they said. They said if I wanted to make a difference, I’d be better off cleaning the water. So that’s what I’ve been doing for the past, oh, ten years.” He counted off the years on his fingers. “And let me tell you: it’s boring as stone. I’m dying in place, and I’m a Life Mage! So, when I had an old family friend reach out, saying there were a couple adventurers in need, I jumped at the opportunity. No more Water Purification spells for me, at least for about six months, I think.”

“What will you do, then?” said Owen.

“I want to become a Diver,” said Cathan. “I hear amazing stories about Light Mages and Life Mages saving thousands of lives down in the Dungeons. I want to do that.”

At this, Owen grinned. “I can’t think of anything manlier than wanting to go on an adventure.”

“Then we are of the same mind!” Cathan barked. “We should form a party, Owen. And you… Actually, I don’t believe I caught your name.”

“Azure,” said Azure, but her face had darkened. “Sorry, but we’ll have to discuss this some other time.” Owen followed her gaze to see that it rested on one of the women behind the reception desk. The lady was staring right at them. After a long, awkward moment, the woman left her position at the desk and walked over to their table. Her gait was graceful, but it seemed that every step carried an impending weight of dread.

“It’s time to report for our debriefing,” said Azure.