On Cosmic Tides

Laurel was leaving. Fine. Annette understood the necessity. She might even be interested in seeing some more of the world herself eventually. That didn’t mean it wasn’t highly inconvenient for her plans.

Annette stood at one end of the table while everyone enjoyed dinner. “I’ve taken out ads in one of the more fashionable papers. Next rest day we will be having our new annual open house.”

The rest of the sect looked around at each other as though someone would come up with more explanation.

“What’s an open house?” It was Martin who finally took the bait.

Annette was rather pleased. “Thank you, Martin. Many of the local noble houses set aside days each year where common citizens can visit their estates and enjoy the art and architecture. Some of the bigger merchant houses or fashionable artisans have started employing the practice as well, to showcase new and exciting wares.”

“So it's a chance to gawp at the rich folk,” Adam said. “We aren’t merchants, we don’t need to let a bunch of potential thieves case the joint.”

Leander agreed with this piece of wisdom. Everyone in the Flats knew you don’t show strangers where you hide the valuables.

“We aren’t a merchant house but we are an institution that could use some public goodwill. Especially after that trial.” Annette had come prepared with her arguments.

“Stars above, I’m glad I missed that whole mess,” Martin said.

“Not helpful Martin.” Annette was not going to lose the initiative here.

“I thought you said people mostly liked us already?” Laurel said.

“They did. Then you two” she pointed at Laurel and Martin, “You two flew around the harbor and fought off a giant sea monster using ice spikes and lightning swords. People liked us when they thought we were teaching a few people how to heal a broken arm. Now they aren’t so sure.

“I’ve been reading the papers. There have been a few articles about us since the trial. Nothing negative so far, but we need to strike while the iron is hot, control the narrative. We are the organization behind the city’s heroes, and we want everyone to remember that when merchants start sniffing around for a profit.”

“Or when they come for the books.” Adam narrowed his eyes at the imagined book thieves he was sure were imminent.

“Less likely, but yes, that's the idea.”

Laurel let out a short laugh. “Well, it sounds like you’ve already put everything into motion so I suppose we’ll have to follow through.”

********

Annette paced down the hall, cataloging the casual revolutions that were on display; marking things off of the list she was carrying. Lights that didn’t need oil and could be turned on and off with a tap of the hand. A hollow box that produced a pleasant breeze as air was drawn through it and purified. Tables and slates that hovered midair without support and could be used for serving or worktops. All visible but not obviously being shown off. Neither Laurel nor Martin were skilled at enchanting, according to them. They also had no desire to spend weeks working on one commissioned project for a wealthy merchant or nobleman. Small, easily made, quality of life improvements their members could make would be their financial path forward. At least until some of the children developed crafting hobbies of their own, or they were able to attract master artisans and teach them to cultivate in exchange for a portion of their proceeds. According to the ancient Eternal Archive ledgers, hundreds of years ago, the crafting members of a sect were extraordinarily wealthy, and the sect’s share of those profits was enough to beggar kings.

She arrived at the foyer where Esther was fussing at the end of a long trestle table lining the side of the room. A quick inspection confirmed the outfit Laurel had first given her to meet the king had survived her walk-through in pristine condition. On the table was more food than Annette had ever seen in a single place short of a festival. The scents hit her, a heady mix of warm spices, roasted meats, and buttery pastry. She even spied the lamb, fig, and rosemary parcels that were her own favorites and looked at them longingly before turning away.

“You’ve outdone yourself, Esther.” The woman in question blushed and waved her hand as if batting the compliment away before it could strike.

“I’m just doing my part. We want the whole city to know we’re friendly right?” She nodded to herself and hurried back in the direction of the kitchens without waiting for an answer. Even as tight-lipped as she was about her and Lucy’s past, Esther was fast becoming the most beloved member of the sect.

Annette started one of the deep breathing patterns she’d been taught in order to calm her nerves. She waited for the rest of the sect leadership to arrive and went through a mental checklist. It was almost time to begin, and she had already seen people beginning to arrive in their front courtyard when she had peeked out of one of the upstairs windows.

Laurel showed up first with the ever-present smile. “The private areas are officially sealed for anyone not a sworn sect member,” she announced.

She came to stand next to Annette, after detouring to grab one of the pastries stuffed with spicy minced beef and cheese. She was back in ‘Sectmaster’ mode, black silk trousers and blouse and enough metallic jewelry that it would have been considered graceless if not for the aura of authority she seemed to be able to turn on and off at will. Annette made a mental note to ask her how it was done, as she was sure it had to be some subtle mana manipulation. Or maybe fighting monsters for a hundred years changed one’s perspective and that came across in her bearing.

“The young ones are all paired up for the day, and they were wearing clean uniforms when I left them.” Martin came jogging down the steps. “I won’t promise they still are but I think that’s about the best we can expect.”

Apparently all master cultivators kept full formalwear in their spatial storage because Annette had definitely never commissioned anything for him. Yet he was wearing black leather trousers and some sort of coat that was fitted to the waist and draped down behind him, along with the sect’s signature accessories, metal bracelets and armbands glinting in the soft light.

Adam was the last to join them. “I’m still not sure we should be allowing library access to any random ruffian that wanders in.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Laurel stepped in to head off a repeat of last night’s argument and threw her arm around Adam’s shoulders, giving him a little shake. “The infused mana flows in there are some of the most complex in the building. No one can remove a book from the shelf without permission from one of us, and anyone trying to remove something from the premises will be in for a rather nasty shock. Nonlethal.”

Reconciling where she was a year ago with the fact that she now lived in a place that required specifications like “nonlethal” security was a task Annette mentally filed under ‘later’.

After one last quick glance at everything, Annette turned to Laurel. “Sectmaster, welcome them in.”

Laurel turned on her heel and strode towards the door. With an extravagant wave of her arms–one that Annette had confirmed was entirely for dramatic effect–the huge doors swung out, leaving Laurel standing atop the short flight of stairs and looking out over a hundred or so curious Meristans.

“Welcome all! Through the wisdom of good King Edward, the Eternal Archive has built our home in your unique city. Now we would like to take this opportunity to share that home with you all. Please come in. Eat, drink, explore! Members in black and silver will be leading tours for all those interested.”

The crowd surged forward and chaos descended. It felt like the entire city was eager to get a peek inside the mysterious new organization. Annette had no more time to worry as she was swarmed with people asking questions or looking for a tour. She did her best to answer, ignoring the (thankfully few) people trying to get a reaction asking things like “is this a cult?” and “you know magic isn’t real, right?”. Taking the first dozen or so she started off on a tour.

The groups blended together in her mind until she arrived back in the foyer to see a handful of people holding notebooks and discussing together. The small feathers she could spot in hat brims or lapels marked them as members of the Associated Press. The journalism guild was fast increasing their influence across the country. Imagining the articles that would be published after an unsupervised interview with Martin or Laurel, she made directly for them, suppressing a shudder. Those two tended towards unsubtle honesty, and that is not the proper handling of a Meristan reporter.

“Welcome to the Eternal Archive, I’m Annette Rada, the sect Quartermaster” she said.

“Kramer Vance, Verilian Express”

“Felicia Stanton, The Ladies Court”

“Sasha Melancourt, freelance”

“Josiah Banecroft, Quills of Progress”

“Viviana Capet, Merchant Guild Newsletter”

“We’re very glad you could all attend.” Annette recognized two city focused publications, one national weekly, and one high society gossip pamphlet. “Would you all like to join me on a tour? We can talk through questions you might have during that time as well.” They started off with a tour of the classrooms and workshops where Annette had carefully staged materials to make them look used, without being messy.

“What exactly is it you are teaching people here?” Ms. Stanton asked as the reporters spread out around a classroom to poke and prod at the furniture.

“We focus on cultivation.” Annette replied. Heading off any confusion she added “It’s the formal name for magic and all its uses. We’ve also employed some tutors to round out the education of our younger members. In future, we’ll be expanding to specific sub-specialties of cultivation and crafting as well.”

The group moved on. They passed through the kitchens, where Esther forced cookies into the hands of nonplussed reporters. Next stop was the solarium. The room faced away from the city, so it was a surprise to the guests. A mostly-glass enclosure built off of one side of the sect house, it had several calm places to sit and meditate. “Eventually plants will be grown year-round to give a taste of nature even in winter.”

“How is the glass so clear?” Vance asked. The man had said little up to this point but was now spinning around like an amazed child.

“Magic mostly” Annette smirked. “It is also spelled to pull in more light when needed, while filtering out enough to prevent sunburns.”

“All this, and the power to fight off gargantuan beasts. Should the people be worried? What exactly are the Archive’s intentions?” Sasha Melancourt sidled into the conversation, pen in hand.

Once more thanking fate she hadn’t let Martin or Laurel talk to these people, Annette carefully crafted her reply. “The sect was founded on the ideals of stewarding knowledge. The modern iteration will continue to do so. Of course we will work to strengthen and defend the city and the nation against threats that arise.”

“Our sources say the leaders of your group are from the Laskarian Empire. How are we supposed to believe they won’t turn on us?” Sasha attempted a different angle.

“Laurel and Martin were attacked and imprisoned in Laskar, so they hardly have any pleasant feelings towards the Empire. They have embraced Merista as their new home and have already fought to defend it.”

Upon entering the library for the end of the tour, Annette and her group of journalists saw Adam looking ready to start a fight with a gaggle of old men.

“You may come during visiting hours and examine the texts then. But you will not remove them from the premises! That was made clear to the Scholar’s Guild leaders.” Adam was practically shouting at the leader of the group.

His opponent was incensed at this denial. “We are the foremost experts on ancient history and languages in the entire country! In the world! This collection should be transferred to the Royal University immediately.”

Adam leaned back and crossed his arm. “No,” he hissed. “The collection is staying, visit or don’t.” With that clear dismissal he turned on his heel, stomped back to his desk and proceeded to glare at the green-robed professors. Muttering amongst themselves they slowly backed out.

“You will be hearing more from us.” The leader finally turned and left after that ominous statement.

Annette pinched the bridge of her nose and took a deep breath. Fine. It was fine that these people had just seen that confrontation with another major player in local politics. Looking to salvage the situation she led her reporters over to Adam.

“This is Adam de Ranier, our sect's Loremaster. As you can see he is quite passionate about maintaining controlled access to the collection.” The reporters all murmured the appropriate greetings and looked around, but the glazed look in their eyes told Annette they were already busy drafting the stories for their next edition.

When she finally returned the group to the foyer the stream of new visitors had wound down. Laurel was standing in the middle of a group of parents with small children, somehow projecting light into the form of small animals and having them move around. As Annette and her reporters watched, she materialized a one foot tall leviathan on top of her open hand.

Annette turned to her reporters, listening to the sound of cheering children. “Was there anything else you were interested in seeing?”

“Thank you for the tour, but I’m afraid I need to get going if I’m going to have the write-up in time for the next edition.” Vance said. The others made similar noises and departed. Not, however, before stopping to grab more food on the way. Their highest pressure guests safely left without seeing anything too disturbing or sensational. The merchants and other professionals that had wandered through had seen the everyday magic items. Everything was going according to plan.

***********

Laurel’s awareness slowly expanded from where she was sitting on the roof of the sect house. The building itself loomed large in her spiritual senses, the amount of mana coursing through it and the anchoring of the Core had made it blinding to metaphysical sight. As she acclimated, she picked out her still-sleeping sectmates. Each had a subtly different pattern in their mana signature, she was pleased to see. Coherent patterns rather than an uncontrolled blob of mana showed them as true cultivators.

Pushing further she felt the shape of the city and it's never-ceasing currents, fading off into the sea and plains of the surrounding region. Her own mana cycled in time to the raging rivers around her. Finally, she plunged her consciousness deep into the City Core.