Ch: 8 Casting Out The Apprentice

Early autumn slipped on its winter coat, and Gary’s pool grew an awning to keep mundane rain off, but creating a warm, misty haze that was a delight when he and Shai were alone.

Likewise Gary's gifts and skills kept their slow steady growth. It was Shai who asked first if anyone else had seen skills growing in interesting ways.

Shai had discovered that even when Gary was nowhere near, she could evoke a slightly similar effect on herself by dancing and either whistling or singing. She still preferred working near her “foolish boy”.

Tallum, who was three Contracts in, saw it too. Not in his overt gifts, but in a subtle layer of insight, or maybe Gary was just dumb.

“So you can create any simple object in the precise size and shape you wish, pretty much at will.”

“Yes.”

“In any simple material you wish.”

“Yes”

“So you could have made those parts for your machines in wax, cast them in plaster and made them yourself, or just created molds for them directly.”

“Yes… wait. Yes!” he grabbed the big man by the wrist and began futilely tugging to pull him to the edge of the pool. “It's been nice having you, we enjoyed our time together, but all things must end, we will be taking Ivy back of course…”

“You didn’t have to hit me, big meanie!” He complained.

“Ye dinnae need be so un-fragile foolish boy!” She made him kiss her bruised knuckle in contrition. “Ye have a head of stone.”

“Battle hardened,” he nodded. “It's where I keep all my favorite memories of my sexy pirate girl.”

Tallum groaned, “you two make me sic- Ivy!” His voice shot up two octaves and made Otho the dog turn his head to the side as they do, by ancient dog tradition.

“Tallumz!” The tiny (in comparison) girl squealed, tackle hugging him back into the almost water..

“Let's go find trouble elsewhere.” Gary suggested, not wanting answers to some of the size and compatibility problems he would rather not contemplate.

In the interest of propriety and cultural taboos, he spent a moment conjuring.

The Bathers Code appeared, enshrined in a hefty and portentous tome on a pedestal just outside the bath it bore the rules:

1: Bath time secrets are to be kept to the Bathers

2: “Shenanigans” in private bath time only.

3: Remember the sandwich.

Shai took his arm once they were dressed and they went out into the warm golden sunshine.

Tawny and Liam joined in with a quiet “Remember the sandwich” muttered all around in a familiar rite, repeated when Aisha joined ranks. Their small party grew as they moved towards the market. Collecting a slender blond harpist from Joy who had hopes of courting Tawny. She seemed on the fence about him, so the Bathers were slowly assaying the boy. Deciding whether he was worthy of their golden girl.

On paper he had the goods, handsome in a graceful delicate way. A dancer, not a wild dervish of joy like Shai was, but a musician and artistic soul. Where Tawny was fiery, Daniel was a tranquil pool frozen in winter. His playing, clean and precise, tightly controlled. When he was not improvising in soaring, windswept flights of musical fancy.

The consensus was he nicely contrasted Tawny’s warmth and passion, but only when Tawny was out of earshot.

He was puzzled by the sandwich chant but wrote it off as a local cult. Daniel prided himself on being a cultured man, widely traveled.

When he met Gary, he had a few questions, on the next encounter he had more. Now it was a regular occurrence, Daniel would pump Gary for specifics as to his birthplace, and Gary would evade.

In a new twist, Gary had been learning the local favorites like Turkey in the Henhouse, Darbie’s Reel and Gone to Buy sugar, all simple country tunes. He would switch to his “out of town” music when Daniel came by. Now he was clearly focusing on songs with nonsense names in them. I left My Heart In San Francisco, New York, New York, and even a fast paced number called I’ve Been Everywhere which seemed to be entirely made up of unlikely place names.

They were in a park near the orchard enjoying a lazy afternoon Ivy and Tallum were reclining against an oak that Gary had his eye on as a woodcutter, it looked choice. Liam and Aisha were in the pool, their privacy guaranteed by the Bathers Code. Shai was danced out for the moment, laying across his lap dreamily as he softly played his Shamisen. He did not quite have the knack yet and Daniel was trying to show him.

Shai mumbled up “Play me a sad song foolish boy.”

He traded out for his latest creation, a twelve string guitar, whose double courses of finest silver strands were heartbreaking. He decided it was time to bring Simon and Garfunkel into this world.

He started The Boxer, a song so sweet, sad and with such a sense of place it could only please Shai, while infuriating Daniel, just the right blend for the moment. The twelve string whispered when he needed it to, and thundered on the climax attracting the eyes of the city guard walking a few blocks away.

Daniel was furious while Tawny enjoyed the show from across a blanket from the slim boy.

“I have never heard the like! Impossible!” He fumed. “Priest Otho says that you are no more than you appear, but I have my doubts!”

Shai curled close in the cooling evening and whispered, “What's that song ye always whistle but never sing me, foolish boy. Let's hear that one.” She thought for a minute, “Mad World ye did say it was.”

He kissed her softly and whispered “As you wish, Dread Pirate Shai.”

Daniel did not take it well. By the time Gary finished her request he followed right up with the Wreck Of The Edmund Fitzgerald.

Daniel decided he'd had enough. It was all the places mentioned casually, as though they were real. His confusion was golden just the way Tawny liked it.

“Gary is a frustrating person Daniel, come I will walk with you to the temple quarter.” She said with a smile.

Shai pulled their abandoned blanket over and draped it over herself eyeing Gary’s mandolin. “That song about the ship, she made me cry.”

Gary leaned over and kissed her again. “Me too.” he said, as he began strumming The Southern Cross. Crosby Stills and Nash always satisfied her, Shai loved Yacht rock.

With shorter daylight hours of the coming winter, Shai took this as an excuse to stay with Gary more often, sleeping in his arms until almost first bell. Everyone knew, but no one cared, as darkness hid her return home in the morning. Avoiding the traditional burden of murdering the boy was that simple. “Don't get caught.” Was the commandment.

Shai watched him as he shaved in the bathing room that morning, his summoned razor scraping with precise strokes. “How dae ye do that wi no mirror ye great fool, surely ye will cut yer throat!”

He shrugged. “Its my face, if there's anything new there, I have other problems besides shaving.”

She shook her head. “An why dae ye nae summon a mirror boy? Come now, I would fix me hair.” She swatted him on the rump playfully. With a moment's concentration a mirror appeared on the wall, a flat gray sheet of frosted glass completely lacking in reflective properties.

“uhh, sorry.” He tried again, this time a sheet of steel formed on the wall, burnished bright and gleaming, but only shiny, not a mirror at all.

She sighed and coaxed him into helping her with a summoned comb. “Dinnae be making cowlicks foolish boy, and we are headed to a barber this day fer that mop on yer head.” She sighed. “Men, helpless wi out guidance.”

The walk back to the orphanage in the morning was bittersweet after taking her home. Fortunately, Liam was always ready to run and beat the moodiness out of him.

Ivy had been placed directly in charge of his magical education, as a way to inconvenience the two commoners. They were both generally pariahs, as the only orphans and thus the only commoners in the college.

Gary’s education was progressing, but his magical skills were lackluster at best.

His spiritual mana pool was rather embarrassingly below average in size, while his recovery rate was tremendous, making up for some of his deficits, but overall he had little aptitude. Like serious smithing, he did not have the temperament.

Gary tried using his gifts for the creation of seals and sigils for ritual magic, but magery was not an Artisan skill. Until He could fill out his Contracts, Gary was unlikely to progress far as a mage.

Enchanting was a different matter entirely, his interface gift provided hints and clues that greatly increased his efficiency and quality.

Soon Gary was putting simple light, warmth and cooling spiritual enchantments on objects just because he could.

Enchanting Shai’s mug to keep her tea warm was easy boyfriend points, and since Gary was good friends with the beekeepers, he always had the honey to satisfy her sweet tooth. For some reason bees loved him. Go figure.

That afternoon Gary picked Shai up at the forge and she swept him along to the market ward, to a shop down the road from Jennah’s.

Barbers are apparently also universal, since the striped pole of red and white beside the door was familiar. Inside was a supremely tidy and well organized salon. Scissors and razors lined up in neat rows on tidy trays, shears and combs of every description, it was exactly how Gary would expect a fancy barbershop in old west San Francisco would have looked.

The barber was even more on point, he was tall, but not unusually so, dark skinned with straight black hair styled in short wings at his temples. His strong jawline was even further enhanced with an immaculately trimmed beard, combined with his blade of a nose he looked much like a swooping bird of prey.

His eyes were gray and bright, while his hands described a welcoming gesture. He was quite possibly the most beautiful man Gary had ever seen. “Shai! Come to take me dancing? Or will you finally give me access to those silken strands of joy which you so selfishly hoard?” He asked reaching, out with overtly dramatic gestures to try, in vain to grasp her hair.

He was young, perhaps a year or two older than Gary and wore a confident and easy smile that was hard to resist. “Gary, this be Gunnar Shah, Gunnar, This be Gary Ward, An ye be trying tae kis him I’ll nae dance wi ye for a week.”

Gunnar looked offended in the most obviously feigned way and sulked. “Of course not, silly Shai, I never draw another’s water without an invitation, no matter how tempting the well.” He said with a wink, before twirling Shai by the hand into a waiting barber’s chair.

He began running deft fingers through her hair while chatting. “Joan Othan came in all in a tizzy a few weeks ago, you know how stressed and worn she’s been since her oldest daughter married…” Gary was only half listening as he watched a skilled craftsman ply his trade. “...well she flopped right down in this chair and had me give her the full treatment, long past due I can tell you…”

Shai murmured contented agreements as he worked and chatted. “Some new boy in town upset her at the fountain with some silly song…” “Mmm hmm…” She mumbled. “Well I guess she went home looking fierce… and now I hear she is expecting again, master and mistress Othan have been as cheerful as a pair of larks since then.” He threw a broad wink at Gary.

“Of course I heard about a new boy in town… and a musician no less I just had to go see for myself. So disappointing, Tawny was already there lurking about, so I had no choice but to withdraw. I do hate to miss out on tasty new treats, but I am afraid I stepped on Tawny’s golden toes once already…”

With a flourish he stepped away from Shai and flung the drape from over her revealing curling locks in an artful spray, woven with a garland of dried flowers. “You simply must grow these luscious strands out Shai, it’s a crime to cut them so short.” Quick as a striking serpent, his hand flashed out, catching Gary by the shoulder, gently pulling him into the vacant chair.

“So, what are we going to do with this?” He asked softly, spinning the chair to face the bank of mirrors on the wall.

Gary’s eyes went to the gleaming tools, craftsmen can’t help but enjoy a well laid out workspace… “Ohh, whatever Shai says, I don't have to look at it.”

He seemed distressed by that. “So what is your routine? Styling wax? Pomade?”

Gary shrugged helplessly. “I wash it with soap and style it with a towel.”

“It be true, tis a thing to see, a man full grown wi his hair all in a haystack, kin ye help the poor boy Gunnar?” They tutted and shamed him for what seemed an eternity while Gunnar worked. “An he do shave his face wi nae mirror nor lather, naught but a naked blade, tis ghastly tae watch.”

Horror crossed the man’s face. “That is not a morning routine, that is a cry for help. Where ever did this poor creature come from?”

“Hey”! I’m right here.” Shai boxed his ears gently.

“Shush, tis important matters at play, none o yer foolishness.”

With a final flourish he removed the drape and spun Gary again to the mirrors… The rivet on those shears looked a touch worn. “I could give your tools a tune up in my shop if you want…” He mumbled.

“Focus up ye great lump, Gunnar has made ye presentable fer human folks. Look and be amazed boy!”

The man was holding something up behind him and saying something about “How do you like the back?”

“Mmm? S ok yeah…” Gary replied, distracted by a nice coat tree in the corner, polished alder wood, steam bent into graceful curves, very nice…

Shai boxed his ears again and less gently this time. “Dae ye be daft?” She shook him a bit before recognizing the look in his glazed, dumb eyes.

He woke up in the bath feeling rested and looking good by all accounts. “Nice haircut Gary!” Ivy enthused. “I was going to take you to the lady that grooms Otho if Shai didn’t handle it.” Shai was strangely silent on the matter, though she did seem concerned.

Musical instrument sales were not strong. To justify even calling it a shop, Gary had branched out into small wares. Wooden plates, cups and mugs were always a steady trade. A line of enchanted, self lighting pipes in various woods was a strong seller, attracting unwanted attention from the authorities.

A stout, thick armed man approached Gary’s shop in the early afternoon, while the Bathers were still gathering in the side entrance. Stepping behind the counter Gary smiled brightly.

“Welcome to Ward Instruments, where we will rock you.” The fellow was dressed in formal looking workman's attire, the rich cloth and bright colors suggesting a uniform rather than common work apparel. He was wearing an apron of fine white goatskin painted with the sigils of all the craft houses.

“You are the proprietor boy?” He asked, without preamble.

“I suppose I am, this is my shop and I made most of this stuff.”

He made a disapproving face, and sniffed.“An unlicensed workshop cannot be allowed within the town’s zone of commerce.” He smiled, “You are to be fined all profits, and surrender all properties to the united crafts hall until your majority.”

With a cool and collected smile on his lips and sweet murder in his eyes, Gary pulled a ledger from beneath the counter. “I think you will find my records in order, should further explanation be needed, Otho of Joy is my legal guardian.”

Gary knew the look of someone pretending to consider the facts before jumping to the decision they had already made. “Regardless, this shop and all its contents are to be surrendered immediately, to be held in my trust.” He aped a tone of reasonableness. “If a qualified Craft Guild member in good standing were your guardian or master we could possibly…”

Just in time Shai and Tallum came up from the workshop, saving the official a thorough stabbing. “Journeyman Tallum, good day, err… are you associated with this craft hall?”

He looked a lot less confident, and Gary was pretty sure it was nothing to do with his new friend’s size. “I am.” He rumbled.

With a wave he presented the man. “Master Theophus, This is Gary Ward, apprentice luthier. Gary this is Master Smith Theophus Dale, head of the commerce guild and Priest of the god of Crafts.”

Seemingly emboldened by his titles and rank he regained a bit of bluster. “Regardless, no dues nor applications have been registered with the temple.” He sniffed again, gaining confidence. “An Itinerant laborer who dabbles in any number of simple trades cannot be allowed to operate an independant craft hall in this town.”

“Master Theophus, if I were to…” The older man bulldozed his huge friend

“An orphan cannot commit to apprenticeships and journeymen may not take apprentices.” He just kept rolling. “No apprenticeship with any recognized master is on file with any craft temple within a month’s journey, and he has no letter of introduction from any guild or hall at all.”

The man sat back on his heels and waited impatiently, ledger still gripped in his fist. “I think you will find,” Gary said in a voice of ice. “that my ledger records all of the transactions made in this shop in detail, marked by both parties and notarized each night by the head boy of the orphanage.” Even more slowly he said. “All of my deals were in trade. Barter only, so no law was broken.”

Theophus pawed through the ledger, grumbling about technicalities, as though that were not his whole purpose at the shop.

Shai softly called out; “Master Theophus, Tis unlike ye tae bother honest crafters at their labors. An ye well know tis Otho runs the city council out of the craft quarters when they do get pushy and greedy.”

She eyed him up and down. “What then is yer fine clothes on fer, when ye rightly know ye do finer work at yer forge than in yer ledgers.”

“Good evening Master Theophus,” Gary said in a voice both friendly and cold. “I’m sorry we could not rock you today. But we will rock you someday.” Shai looked concerned and Tallum placed a massive paw on Gary’s shoulder. “We are closed for business now, please return another time. Thank you for thinking of Ward Instruments. Rock on.”

While he stood waiting for the man to leave, the smith tried to shoulder his way into the workshop past Gary. In a wink the door was closed, all on its own, with quiet finality. “The workshop is private space, no peeking Master Smith.” Gary said in that same cold, friendly tone. But now it had a sinister edge.

“Shai, Tallum, please go make sure the Bathers are all outside the house. Bathtime is, sadly, going to be delayed.”

She hesitated a moment before leaving, but Tallum simply draped a huge hairless ape arm over the Craft priest’s shoulder and guided the older man outside. “Shai really let you have it Master Theo. She never really means the terrible things she says…”

As Tallum led the man away Gary realized he was holding the knife under the counter in a grip that was firm, casual and unambiguous. Even worse he had been wondering what a banjo skinned with human hide would sound like. That was a little distressing.

Adding to his fury was the sure knowledge that he was staring down another seven years of ambiguous childhood and indentured servitude.

Upstairs in the bath, Gary fumed. Otho was the last to arrive and quickly found himself cornered by the orphans and their friends. Gary led off, being in most need of explanations. “I just found out about five years of slavery after I turn twenty and get crammed with whatever Contract you guys wanna jam into me. Not cool Otho. That is a deal breaker.” The others added in their own unique variants on the matter.

Otho listened calmly and with compassion, as though he had not heard these same issues countless times before in his duties.

“Always the same, but each one unique, my sweet children are the price we pay for what remains of this world.” He rose, and called to the whole group. “Attend me.”

“Please dress, the topic is not one for baths and comfort, but hard truths, Gary a room if you please.”

Gary led them down into the shop floor, now with curtains drawn and a scattering of couches and chairs around a low table. “Very nice!” Otho enthused. “I shall have all my meetings here!”

“No you won't,”Gary grumbled sourly.

“No I won’t, no matter how this goes I am never well pleased. Nor was I pleased when I sat where you do.”

This, of course, went over just as well as it had with each generation of young people.

“Bullshit” Gary’s bark was loud, sharp and made the instruments on display sing in overtones. “I’m slave to no man or god Otho. I will bleed anyone who tries to take my home and build flutes from their bones…”

“Gary…” Liam warned.

“No, no,” Otho called cheerily, “this is what I always hope for but so rarely get.” He clapped giddily. “Ooh Liam don't be shocked, you hide it very well but you have been furious for most of your life. Gary is new at it… relatively.” He stage whispered to Shai. “Stay with this boy, you will go far!” With a patented broad wink.

“It is true that you are all… well many of you, are slaves to fate, destined by law and tradition for the temple of War.”

Looking right to Gary, he said. “War is not a bad life, men no longer war on each other, only the occasional bandit or feuding lordlings spill men's blood. War is largely at war with monsters.” He went on. “The cult of War is vast and varied, most find a life in War’s service that suits them and either serve their time and leave or stay with War for life.”

He nodded to Gary and Ivy, “Those who craft or have mage skills work in those fields and often go on to independent lives. Yet the mark of War is eternal.”

To Liam he said. “Others find no comfort there and are my eternal sorrow.” Cheering up he clapped his hands together in glee.

“Today I see the makings of a lifeline, not just for Liam, but for all of my children. All of Joy’s children. I want you to join the Adventurer’s Guild as apprentices under young Mikkel the plasterer. He holds master rank in the Adventure Guild and has agreed if you ask.”

“What does that mean Otho? That changes nothing.” Gary complained.

“Ohh, so wise in the law now are we? Has that pathetic excuse for a library been expanded? I thought not. Know this boy. The Adventurer’s guild is old beyond all reckoning, but it is simply a craft guild. Follow the rules and you can work to your own ends without interference.” He smiled wickedly. “No journeyman in the Adventurer’s Guild can be held to or forced into a contract signed by a guardian before his majority. This is a law as old as any the gods can remember.”

Otho waited for the applause and gushing thanks… nothing.

“That includes the debt of service for an orphan. With the state as your guardian under the law at the time of your intake…”

From deep within a leaping hugging throng of young people his voice could be heard. “There it is… Yes children! Yes! Praise me more!” When they had settled down he continued wisely.

“See that would have been weird in the bath.”

Gary was excited but Liam was fairly vibrating with emotion. “So I Could at least try and negotiate my own contracts?”

“Better Liam, better. Work hard, be diligent and follow your hearts… and maybe we can do a little good in this sad world.”

‘That again’ Gary thought as he took the whole crowd into the orchard to dance until they could sleep.

The whole group skipped out of their usual mid morning activities in the interest of planning.

Amicus placed Ivy and Gary on hiatus from the college, a formality only.

Shai for her part went to her uncle and requested her apron at his forge. They both had been nodding and winking for a year over her reluctance to spread her wings.

Gary watched quietly as Shai, wearing her formal gray apron, spoke quietly to her uncle… father… whatever.

They seemed really close and it was touching to hear. Reminding him of his own apprenticeship under grandpa.

A loud and strident argument began naturally.

“Ah kin finally get a young apprentice, one tae learn me craft proper… nay a practice piece like ye.” He grumbled with tears in his eyes.

“Ay, twill be fine tae get out of this leaky old shed an work me craft somas more suitable, mayhap a rickety hay barn in the wildlands. T’would have a better class of lice.” She wept, accepting her apron in the time honored ritual of casting out the apprentice.

“Begone lazy wretch, an nae darken me door ere ye learn a new bit o craft tae earn yer roof.” He said as they hugged.

What are yer plans lass?” Harlan asked, rolling up his ceremonial white apron reverently, now simply a loving parent.

Shai was meanwhile, equally reverently putting her brown journeyman's apron on and stowing her old gray apprentice apron in a tube until her first apprentice would need it. “Ahm fer adventure papa, an tae see new things and learn new crafts. Dinnae cry more, an ye know my friends and siblings be wi me and I wi them.”

“Ah did know ye would fly far an ye left the nest. Ye’ll see the ocean yet.” They embraced and she ran to Gary after, with tears streaming in sorrow and joy.

“I’m no leaving town yet ye old miser, an gods help yer next poor apprentice, lest the wretch starve in yer care!” She shouted as they walked down the street.

Harlan fairly screamed back “Aye gods help me next apprentice, they’er fer a hard job scrapin the filth from yer bunk. An there never was lazier…!

He choked off in sobs, as the other crafters began jeering the departing new made journeyman, preserving their comrade’s dignity in the old tradition.

Meanwhile the apprentices paused to line the short street of the smiths ward begging the journeyman to save them from their drudgery and take them with her, as had been done since before reckoning.

Gary was deeply moved, wishing he could have that fight with his parents. Shai wore her apron all night. All night long.

She woke to find him fiddling with the ties after midnight. Swatting his hand away and snuggling even closer when he complained that it was itchy.

They slept late together, enjoying the morning for a change. As a journeyman, Shai was free in every way save that she could not Contract until she turned twenty on the feast of War in two years.

The small group gathered in Gary’s shop to plan, Liam took the lead. “If we are forming an Adventure team that will mean fighting monsters. Who of us is willing and able to?”

Liam raised his hand, as did Ivy who prodded a slightly reluctant Tallum into raising his paw. Gary raised his, only to be brought up short by Liam, Ivy and Shai. “Liam did say ready and able foolish boy. Ere ye take up yer spear know that yer weapon be grand, but ye holdin it be naught but a pointy stick.” She hugged him close. “I’d nay see ye eaten ere I am done wi ye.”

“I beat Braden's ass.” He sulked.

“An Braden not dumb as a post Ye may have had nae luck wi him. I heard ye play and heard ye sing, as a fighter ye be a grand musician yet. Ye nae will be up front. Ye kin guard Tawny.”

Tawny looked slightly Ill, but was doing OK, she had a look of steely resolve in her eye since Otho had revealed his plot. Gary turned to her and whispered; “If you can’t, I Know the others will understand, you can bail now, you know how I feel about you. We are good, no matter what, you and I”

She whispered back. “I have to, under law, no party of apprentices may go out without a healer of journeyman rank or higher” she sighed. “I am the only healer in town of journeyman rank who has not sworn the oath to Healer. I can still fight.”

She saw him open his mouth to speak and she growled. “Don't mess with me Gary, I have my own agenda and will do whatever it takes. Whatever. It. Takes.”

They hashed out needs and plans for a while, thinking their way though in a clear morning.

Tawny had asked Jennah about finding them an armorer with free time and some skill. “Old Hannah in the Adventurers compound” Was her advice.

Gary knew her, he had crafted a rocking chair to her specs, she had seen his tiny child's model and wanted one her size. Only slightly larger. She was minuscule.

Her kindly smile was leathery, and so was the rest of her, she even still faintly smelled of leather since she kept her hand in, teaching youngsters in the tailor's ward a few days a month.

“Ohh, well yes..” Her voice creaked, but in a comfortable way, like a well worn in leather jacket. “Jennah and Otho mentioned you would be coming by, so I started working already, let's go.” she hopped up grabbing a tiny cane and… a towel draped basket.

“Otho said we’d be by? And you brought a towel?”

She smiled happily. “Piffle boy, a lady needs a towel to go for a bath. Or do the kids today air dry?”

Gary looked to Shai for help but she was helping old man Symes with his towel draped basket.

“I can't believe this is my life now…” He sighed as oldsters came out with more towels and baskets.

“Liam, I’m moving in OK?” Gary said, watching the gathering elders.

Liam shrugged helplessly. “You opened your mouth about those mythical heroes, Judge Reinhold and Wilford Brimley! Yes him, he who discovered the pool of cocoon monster larvae!”

Gary was already playing ‘Take Me Home Country Roads’, while distracting everyone with Shai’s Inevitable Dance.

In the far corner of the courtyard was a nook that had been a garden plot or some such. He had his eye on it before Liam shot down his hopes of moving in last time.

It was sunny and clear of obstructions and very large. Gary decided to try some bold modifications. He bumped up against his limits a few times, but in fifteen minutes he had summoned a fair piece of work.

The house and shop were similar to the hillside over the river, though towering a full two stories now. Beside it was a steaming outdoor bath in its own garden court, fed by a spring from the residence wall. A small bathing and changing room lay just inside the low wall surrounding the pool.

Diverting the excess flow of not exactly water into a loosely controlled courtyard, made him feel just a little thin around the edges. A faint wobbly tremor in his tummy quickly went away as he adjusted. It was not exactly part of the house but he had flashes of awareness, like fireflies in a starlit meadow.

After a moment it felt right, like the garden needed to expand a touch. He could already feel his influence on the courtyard increasing, a few more fireflies and a bit more starlight.

Exhausted, Gary stumbled to a rocking chair and watched the low speed sprint for the hot water.

Shai squatted beside his limp form and said, “That were kind o ye, though yer an arse fer nae doin it before this. Ye saw what yer water did tae Otho and Amicus, the dried old sticks.”

“Liam said I couldn't, so yell at him. And I don't think I explained that story to him very well. He just kept talking about what a heroic name Wilford was. He might have missed the point.”

“Tis a bold and manly name, nae soft like some.” she nodded wisely, “aye a man’s name should hae some weight tae it. An I may name me first son Wilford an all.” She smirked, Ye do second names here about, an mayhap I’ll be takin suggestions fer that name an all.”

“Any come tae mind, Gary Ward son of Andrew and Maria Ward? Is that how the second name be workin? I confess I ner paid mind tae it afore. Kin ye explain where the second name comes from Gary Ward? Kin ye explain whae me poor Wilford will get his second name frae?”

She hounded him about poor Wilford all the way into the workshop. Asking the members of the Bathing club gathered downstairs to help her decide “Wee bairn Wilford’s second name.” They played along cruelly.

“Wilford Guard? No, maybe Wilford Bard?” Asked Tallum, familiar with his sister’s evil mind and happy she had found a fresh kill to gloat over. Poor Gary was done for, but Tallum could still get through this.

“Wilford Warm, it's comforting, like a blanket.” Tawny cooed in her honey voice, now tainted with venom.

“I feel like your first son would rebel, maybe become a woodworker of some debased kind… Wilford Board?” Liam offered.

It went on like that. A lot. By the end Gary was standing on the workbench explaining to his friends how he planned to use his disappearing house to frame Shai for his murder.

“...and I’’l be free and dead, while all the evidence disappears, leaving only my corpse and a bloody scrawl reading Shai did it! Perfect crime.”

Liam said gently; ”I don't know what bowling balls or dominoes are or this god Rube Goldberg… but justicars generally do not read. They can mind you, but they do not. Your plot would fail.”

When the work started in earnest, the non crafters headed out on their own errands while the three stayed below with Ivy who was a fair spiritual enchanter.

Her work was far superior to his in every way but his gifts made his enchantments stick better, last longer and work more effectively.

It was her first time in the workshop. Mages, even orphan mages with few prospects, preferred books and papers in their craft. This place of smoke, sawdust and dangerous tools was outside her comfort zone.

Soon the music and the dancing brought her along anyway, joining in the rhymes that they called back and forth. Nonsense songs about whatever they had in hand at the moment.

A small mound of finished products began to appear. Gary and Shai worked together, too close together some would say, to make a brace of shields, bucklers and weapons. Clubs, staves and mauls from Gary. Swords, daggers, maces and such from Shai.

Tallum concentrated on his and Liam’s armor, a project fortunately already underway. Liam’s as his birth day gift, and Tallum’s because an apprentice armorer always makes their own first. “Teaches you the value of a good fit and fine work.” master Harlan had always said when discussing armor.

Ivy mostly concentrated on Tallum's backside… until she caught the scent of magic. “I smell what you are doing Gary, that's tricky.”

“You what?” He asked, keeping the beat with a rasp.

“Every mage experiences magic with a different sense, for me it's mostly smell and sound. Others see colors or hear music, some lucky bastards even get actual written messages from their own subconscious minds. It's how your body, mind and soul process magical information.”

“Your magic smells tricky, like a sheepdog, or bees guarding the hive… or birds in flight moving together in swirling clouds I wanna jump up and bite while I run and howl to themoon allnightlong with a packofgoodfreinds thatrealyknowhowtohuntand Iwannadrinkfromastreamwhi…”

During his fight with Braden a few things had hit him, besides feet and fists. He tried one now, abruptly dropping Ivy from his gift without dropping the beat.

She reacted like she had been hit with cold water. Shaking and sputtering like a wet dog. “Damn tricky. What is that?”

“How about we meet up in the bath and we all trade info on our gifts and contracts? Get it all done at once.” Gary suggested.

“Good Idea, Ivy, head up stairs please, while I talk to these three.” Otho said, from the door.

When she was gone he said, “Now show me this spear you fools have made”

“Oh my, yes this is troubling, troubling in so many ways…Gary my boy do you still have that lovely flute?”

Gary handed it over to the old man, who began to examine it in detail.

While Otho was looking it over Gary read its message, plucked by his thought as he handed it over.

Forest’s Breath/ Unique Recorder, instrument, Flute class, Iron Rank, Enchanted. Quality, fine. Animals, Monsters, Beasts and other low intelligence creatures respond to musician’s will in limited ways. Scales against will, intelligence and rank. Minor effects on humans and creatures of normal intelligence.

“How did that happen Otho? I never did that.” Gary wondered, while jotting down the message for Shai. As he slid her the note Otho peeked. “Of course you did… what's this?”

She let Otho whisk the note away, while Gary protested.

The geezer’s eyebrows began a mad dance as he read, finally he sighed and said. “Lets go up stairs and get this aired out in the bath.

In the steam clouds with Shai snuggling companionably beside him and all his friends and comrades gathered, Otho began his lecture.

First, background from Zygnos’ notes. The void Gary is attached to is the very one Zygnos himself was bound to, it is unusually large and stable. Zygnos’ notes suggested that if your ability to transmute this energy were interrupted even for a moment you would vanish like a bad smell, body, mind and soul.

That's fun.

Next, the elderly bathers outside could wallow in Gary gravy until the mountains blow away into sand and not soak up enough to matter worth a humming bird’s fart. We are working on enchanted sponges though. We will keep you posted.

On a personal note, Zygnos was twenty five when he came here, so he likely never considered the possibility of a child being drawn through.

Finally before I open the floor to the main topic, which the lovely Ivy no doubt relayed;

You are all precious to me and I expect all my treasures to be returned in good order.

Gary took the floor and offered to start, since his were weird and complicated. First he tried to start with explaining Interface for the first time. Which infuriated Otho.

“So you could have simply read me these descriptive messages or written them down to show me at your conv… ooo, They are all stored away in your mental files are they Gary….? Let's move on shall we?”

When he got to the graphic display of his pools Otho was beginning to turn colors. “Two mana pools, one spiritual, the other etheric? Nonsense, humans can't store etheric magic beyond background levels.”

Pockets! and similar abilities and enchantments were popular with anyone able to access them. Gary’s were excellent but not unusual, beyond their whimsical name.

Artisan took some explaining for the non crafters in the bath, but they got it across together, mostly with Tallum’s help, Shai only talked about smithing, dancing and music, which was clear to Gary and Otho, but lost on most of the others.

Familiar stranger was tricky to describe, so Gary just materialized copies of the message for all the literate members to share with their neighbors, making Otho’s blood boil. “So just like that, poof there they are in plain text. Gary, I don’t like you very much right at his moment.”

Homebody, he just printed to irritate Otho. He looked like he was being slowly boiled. The Bathers all knew about his contract so he barely mentioned it. “Any questions gang? If not, who's next?”

All but Liam’s shot in the air. He looked around, counted on his fingers and raised his hand as well.

Gary pointed to the girl with the intoxicating walk. “I’m gonna pick Shai first cause… you know.” he grinned winningly at her.

“Whats yer sixth gift ya great fool?”

“I told you all, just now.” He said.

“No you didn't” Tallum said, while Liam counted again and raised his hand once more.

“I did” He counted off; “Homebody… Pockets!, Artisan, Interface and familiar stranger. Six. Who's next?”

Liam held up five fingers. “See? Liam counted. Next!”

“Five Gary,” Otho said slowly. “Exactly.” he said. “What were we talking about? Ohh yeah, Tallum’s next!”

“Foolish boy’ kin ye produce that ‘Print’ power again fer a list o yer gifts an attributes?” Shai asked with a wink.

“As you wish.” He said slowly and carefully, as though the phrase was more significant than it appeared. Then lists began to appear in the hands of the literate Bathers again.

Might:Normal Homebody

Resilience:Plus Unknown/nullUnknown/null

Agility:Plus, spear Wanderer's Legacy, Pockets!

Will:Normal Artisan

Mind:Normal Interface

Animus:Normal Familiar Stranger

“See, all there, next?”

“Gary,” Tawny asked sweetly, “dear friend Gary, where is the information on your other Contract and the gift associated with Resilience?”

He held up his own copy, now the size of a poster board. “See, right there it says Resilience…” He drifted off, watching Shai bob in the pool. “So yeah.”

“This is a tough nut to crack Otho.” Amicus said and the two old men conferred in the far end of the pool.

Finally, Otho said; “It's the only way.” and motioned for Tawny to join them. After a moment she held her palms up in flat denial and waved an aggressively pointed thumb at the two men.

She waved Shai over to join the growing meeting as well. Shai shook her head and waved a huge fist in a very forthright way.

The two men must have won because she looked upset, but resigned to some unpleasant task.

Gary for his part felt tired and foggy like he had not in a long time. He drifted in the pool wondering what he was forgetting. It wasn't important.

His mind slipped away, catching snippets of their talk. “Poke him where? Wae me what?” Shai sounded upset. Hard to tell. Tallum didn't want any part of something or other. “...thumb ye say?”

‘Strange.’ He thought.

“An tis nae agin the law o the church nor the land?” Shai was not having it with someone, poor schmuck. So sleepy.

“But There be moral considerations dae he nae consent!”

‘You go girl! No means no’ He thought dreamily.

“Sorry gang, I got a little sleepy there, Tallum if you are ready, let's hear your stuff.” He said when his mind cleared.

Tallum had the god of Crafts Contracted to his Mind attribute, with the spirit of Fire on his Might and the spirit of Earth on his Resilience. His gifts had only begun to grow, increasing his abilities in his crafts in subtle but significant ways.

Shai had no Contracts at all and a gift just starting to manifest.

Liam’s Contract with War to his Agility was his most potent and least favorite attribute. His gift was a low cost no cooldown thrust attack that pierced with almost explosive power.

Ivy was an unusual case, her contract with Joy on her Resilience attribute was made by her parents in an attempt to control a rare and often fatal heart condition. Joy typically refused to Contract children on principle, relenting only for cases like hers.

Her Contract with the god of Beasts was equally unusual, in that it had manifested spontaneously overnight, bound to her Might. Sending her to her parents room begging them to allow her to complete it.

Such cases were rare, but it did occur in the outskirts of human lands occasionally. Sadly, a monster event had engulfed her village while she was away having her contracts completed, consuming her entire previous life. An orphan at ten, she came to Otho’s care.

Tawny’s contracts with Healer, Joy and Order made her a potent force. She was bound to Healer at her Mind and Resilience, with Joy at her Will and Order holding her Might.

She attempted to explain her gifts but got no traction, any more than she understood the subtleties of their crafts. It was all healing and a few buffs, debuffs and a sleep and paralysis spell she could cast at short range.

As the group spread out, going about their tasks Gary stumbled on a heated exchange between Liam and Aisha. She had been very quiet since the Adventurer’s guild plan had been hatched. “…can’t believe you would take this risk, five years with War and you might never see action, or chance becoming a journeyman Adventurer? Madness!”

He slipped out the shop entrance by unsummoning the bell and crept away silently. 'If she wants him to accept becoming an acolyte of War she is in for a rough ride.’ He thought.

He was in the garden, practicing his shamisen with Shai twirling in joy when Tallum came lumbering up. Gary suspected the rolling walk was an unconscious affectation, an attempt to make himself less intimidating. The giant boy eased to the ground with the grace of a falling leaf. “Faker” Gary cheerfully complained, to his friend’s confusion.

“You are weird, are you really not going to tell us what gift you have from Resilience?” Shai swooped over and punched her brother so viciously, he might have felt it. “Did ye nae see how dumb he got when we did press him on that ye great oaf?” she hit him again. “Dinnae smash me boy’s brains to mush ere I be done wi him… he do keep telling me tae please nae kill him in the morning. Tis odd.”

The music had gone sour at Tallum’s question and was wandering into territory best left to the imagination. The poor boy was slack jawed and drooling just a little.

“Dae ye see? Now I’m fer soaking him in the bath agin, Aye me fingers will be naught but prunes, ye great lumbering mound of meat!” She took his instrument carefully from slack fingers. “Pick me boy up, ye clod. Tis yer work, ye must carry him.” As they went inside she was still grumbling about it being a fine afternoon for dancing.

Poor master Theophus had come by with a Justicar, only to find an empty hillside, now strangely fertile, with rich black soil at its once barren top. That must have been frustrating.

None of the Bathers mentioned Gary’s now clearly magical fits and avoided topics likely to cause him to become “Tae dumb tae breathe.” Shai threatened violence on anyone who dared play pranks with the problem.

Aisha came to the baths less and less as the group’s plans and training began to move in a much more directed way. Liam’s sad and hurt expression slid into view on more than one occasion.

Gary slid down beside Liam and bumped his shoulder into the other boy’s companionably. “Wanna talk?” “No.” he tried again. “Wanna spar? I’ll let you beat my ass.”

Liam fired back. “Just like you let Dannyl beat your ass this morning?” he grumbled. “That kid is squirrely as hell. Makes me feel like I’m wearing lead boots.”

“whats lead? Is that the Zepplin thing you keep mentioning?”

“It is heavy metal… I need distortion though, and pickups and an amp… I don't wanna be the guy that invented the pedal-board in this world!” He thought for a minute. “I did see an amp and pickups…” he smiled, slow and sneaky. “Hey Liam. wanna do something dumb?”

Merchant Fargnahan was pleased to sell his white elephant, letting it go for one gold and three bronze marks. A positive steal to Gary’s mind, since he could now explore the secrets of magical sound amplification. The pathetic library at the college had little to offer on any topic with real world applications.

True magical lore was kept in secret libraries belonging to various cults and restricted to members only. The physical sciences seemed to have stagnated in the early enlightenment period.

There was little in the way of machinery beyond the water mills that ran many of the craft halls. Triphammers in the forges, mills for grain but nothing beyond that.

Most college alumni, students and staff considered ritual magic and enchantment little better than story-time for the kiddos, giving the topic short shrift wherever they could.

Ivy found the precise and detailed sigils and magic circles of both enchanting and ritual magic fascinating. She could and would expound in great detail on the topic with little provocation. Giving her a chance at the Harmonium was like dropping fresh meat in front of a hungry dog. “... OK I'm going, and tell Otho to stop following me… yes the dog. Your dog, he won't stop following me.”

He left, calling over his shoulder, “remember who’s workshop this is lady!” Shai was at the top of the steps waiting for him. “Ivy’s staying in, she has something on the workbench.”

Running with Liam was much less of a struggle since Shai started taking him dancing every night and most afternoons. In fact he had to visit Jennah to have his clothes taken in, especially in the seat of his pants. Shai came along to make sure he followed her instructions.

“Aye, it needs tae cup his arse just so, kin ye make it o something silky?”

Jennah was delighted to have a co conspirator. “If I rouche the seams here, just a touch it will nestle in and really accentuate the crease.” She said, indicating someplace awkwardly near his taint.

“Nae he must be able tae dance freely… mayhap a kilt? Di ye think?”

Jennah was really enjoying herself now. “I was thinking gauze and silken veils, in pastel shades…”

When the bargain was struck he went out into the wide street and screamed at the uncaring sky “I can't believe this is my life now!” The shoppers and crafts people stopped for a moment, realized it was the new local crazy and went about their days.

The kilt was OK, it took a little getting used to but it was nice. Very free, Shai was a big fan of the look, and a bit handsy too. When he began a mournful song she swayed and danced to the tune of his guitar as he sang and walked while she danced.

“t’wer sad boy, what be a Gigolo? I nae understand.” When he explained in graphic detail the meaning and lyrics of ‘Just A Gigolo’ she went white then red in rapid waves. “That were as naughty as yer Fat Bottomed Girls! Be ye thinkin me bottom fat?”

That was an obvious trap, so he decided to play the most dangerous game. Brinksmanship, riding the razor's edge between victory and utter destruction.

“If I see a bottom I like more I will let you know.” He made a display of checking out all the backsides in the area, then circled around her and said. “So far so good. Though widow Poonya is bringing the heat.”

“Aye, an I’m ninety six, If me arse looks that bonny I'd be glad.” She said, before she hit him. Hard. That week end was the festival of Order, marking a month until the orphans birth days.

To be honest, the festival of Order was boring. At least on day one, day two was pretty dull as well, “I really don't get the whole religion thing here,” Gary said in the quiet of the orchard. “Why is Order unpopular?”

“It be no just tha Order be dull and dry as dust and his rites be too boring tae survive sober, but his justicars be taking pride in being even handed to all, save then their hands be more even in the craft and market districts than ever they were in the higher quarters.”

“So there are six gods and six spirits... Or seven gods and five spirits?”

“That be more Otho’s area, mine people hae a different way than these do.”

“Tell me yours then. I heard your catechism, but I want to know more. I want to know more about you and your world.”

As they strolled among the trees, she explained;

There were six gods of men, human in form, male and female and six spirits of nature, some with and some without genders.

Light was genderless, and was the flip side of Lady Healer, both represented by the sun. Order and Earth were also linked, with Earth being female.

War shared his portfolio with fire, who was genderless. Lady Joy and the spirit of Water both were female, while the god of Secrets and the god of Beasts were male sharing the moon as their icon.

“That’s pretty complicated…” he said, thumbing through his notes from her previous recital. “But it seems like you put the gods and spirits on the same level. Am I reading that right?”

“Aye, that be our way, but nae here in the big towns, here thae nae revere the spirits an dinnae Contract them hardly.

Gary thought hard, his head was still a little foggy for some reason. “What about the pets in the orchard, the kids had familiars harvesting the trees and herding fowl. They have Contracts with the god of Beasts right?”

“Nae, is an animal affinity gift, is the mark o the god o Beast’s favor, but nae many accept the gift here.” she perked up. “Hush now, it be starting.” The evening of day two was a bit more lively.

A bonfire was constructed on the temple square, where clergy and cultists of Order conducted their exacting rituals. Another was built in the market yard, ostensibly for the lesser folk to enjoy the same kind of precise and regimented observance. Order was not popular outside the nobles merchants and upper crust.

Order’s staid and conservative ideas got little attention after young Muktar, a stout middle aged alchemist, threw packets of powders into the flames causing a flurry of brightly multicolored sparks to erupt continuously.

With wild glee, a spirited jug band started, basically everyone in the poor quarters giving a big middle finger to their betters. They beat on washtubs, basins and trash bins, many of the instruments he had traded were adding to the awful din.

The band was terrible. Gary thought about using his gift to tighten them up, but Shai held him back. “It be tradition, we make an awful racket, nae music.” she grinned, “Order do hate it.”

Late in the night, once Order’s fire in the temple quarter was out, the market ward started really jumping. The jug band tightened up by itself and was doing a respectable job, being led by some plain clothed acolytes of Joy, including a small one with a distinctly Joyous violin. Gary and Shai joined the swirling mob and danced themselves to exhaustion.

In bed that night huddled close, watching the stars through a skylight Gary made just for her he asked “how do you know if the god of Beasts has marked you?” She squirmed closer. “Dae ye be thinkin on yer aptitude fer fowl an the hives? ye are a dab hand there no lie.” Gary leaned back, stretching languidly against her.

“She says I really know my way around the birds and the bees …” He gloated.

She chuffed loudly, ruining the mood and grabbed him by the bird and bees firmly saying “An ye be coming along apace, it be a while ere ye get a brown apron fer yer pajamas, boy o mine.”

“So you declare yourself a master of the craft?” He goaded, enjoying life in the danger zone. “You seem to like playing with mine so much I made you one of your own.” He said pulling a flat square box of wood rubbed the color of golden sunshine.

Handing it to her with a smile and “Happy early birth day, Dread Pirate Shai.”

She gave a wiggle of delight and opened the box under the light of a paper lantern that appeared just for her.

A long strand of flat linked bronze rings fell into a loose net of bronze chain growing finer and more delicate, decorated with tiny silver bells and disks at the edge. It tinkled sweet, merry chimes as he lifted it from the padded case.

“What be it? Besides a lovely bit o craft?” Gently he pulled her to her feet and draped the strangely warm metal net over her bare hips. It buckled on her right just at the waist and trailed longer to her left like a shawl or sash. As she moved it sang with a melody of its own.

Chimes of the Wild, Instrument, Unique, unenchanted, This item may be enchanted to Iron Rank Plus by a qualified sorcerer. Significant penalties to stealth.

“It's a ding-a-ling my dear.” And he began to sing, swaying her to the gentle, childlike rhythm.

When I was, a little bitty boy

my grandmother gave me

A cute little toy…

Silver bells hanging on a string,

She told me it was my ding-a-ling-a-ling!

Ding-a-ling was not a term for boy-parts in his new world… yet. But Shai picked up immediately when he got to the next verse.

Once I was climbing the garden wall,

I slipped and had a turrible fall…

Fell so hard I heard bells ring…

I must have landed on my ding-a-ling-a-ling!

She swayed and giggled in his arms as he sang his silly stolen song, with Shai joining in and singing along, her swaying hips making the chimes sing softly.

…And if this song

you will not sing,

Ya must be playin with yer own dinga-a-ling!

It was good to score boyfriend points. Very, very good. “Ah mae be needin an apron fer yer pajamas sooner than I hae thought.” She cooed, invading his personal space in delightful ways.