The Tears of Kas̆dael

As soon as Ihra left, Tsia closed herself in her room for a long-awaited bath, and Erin, after a few moments of awkward silence, suddenly decided to take a nap. That left Jasper alone to visit the guild, which was fine with him.

He headed down to the main hall of the tavern first. It was midday so only a handful of patrons sat at the bar. He considered stopping for a bite to eat, but upon realizing that the only thing currently on offer was the perpetual pot of stew slow-boiling over the hearth, he decided against it.

As he stepped outside the tavern, the suffocating heat and humidity rose up to greet him, but they no longer had any power to bother him. He passed through the market again, suppressing a grimace as he felt the many curious eyes upon him – for it was rare for a Djinn to leave their sacred mountains – and turned down the avenue that led to the guild.

Hargish had suffered severe damage during the attack in part because so much of the city was built of dried mud bricks covered in plaster. The guild hall, by contrast, had been constructed of solid stone blocks which had survived the event largely unscathed.

As he approached the entrance, he fished the card he’d been given at Gis̆-Izum out of his pocket, but the bored guard outside made no attempt to look at it. With a shrug, he tucked it away again and pulled on the door.

A rush of cool air greeted him as he stepped inside, sending a little shiver of delight down his spine. As a Djinn, the heat and cold may no longer have bothered him, but that hadn’t overridden his longstanding preference for cooler weather, and the magical air conditioning hit the spot.

The guild hall had never been particularly busy in his brief time as a member as the largely peaceful region had lacked any compelling draws for the more adventurous-minded. Indeed, the guild’s lack of manpower was the primary reason he and Ihra had been gang-pressed into accepting the quest to Yar-Khennor in the first place. But, in the aftermath of the queen’s attack, the hall had never been busier.

The clash of metal against metal filled the air as dozens of guild members trained against each other, and a long line stood waiting in front of the new support desk that had been erected opposite the entrance.

Jasper bypassed the line, and with a confident stride, headed straight for the guild master’s office. He was nearly at the door before someone intercepted him, shoving a hand against his chest.

“Sorry bud, but you can’t just waltz in to see the guild master. Unless you’ve got an appointment, you’ll want to head over to the desk. Isha can help you get checked in.”

Jasper glanced down impatiently at the man touching him and was surprised to find a familiar face. Pa’al. With a face that looked like it had been carved from granite and a long, thick braid running down his back, the stalwart tank appeared to have bounced right back to health.

There was no glimmer of recognition in the man’s eyes, and Jasper quickly reined his own reaction. A flicker of irritation surged through his veins at the sight of the man, but it was coupled with a touch of uncertainty. After the deaths of almost their entire party - save for Jasper, Ihra, and Pa’al - the guild at Hargish had treated them coldly, questioning how the two inexperienced adventurers had survived when all the others had fallen. Pa’al alone had expressed gratitude for saving their life and had even given the pair a letter of recommendation to give to the guild at Gis̆-Izum.

But, the two had forgotten to give the letter, and when Jasper letter opened it, curious to see what was said he’d found in addition to the letter of recommendation, a second letter sealed in the envelope. This one was from the guild master at Hargish, Gebor, and had urged the guild at Gis̆-Izum to kill them as suspected cultists. The man had seemed so grateful, so genuine, after they saved his life, that he didn’t want to believe the man had known about the guild master’s letter. And yet…it was hard to find an explanation that left him innocent.

Carefully wiping away all signs of irritation, Jasper took a step back and flashed the man a disingenuous smile. “I’m afraid I don’t have an appointment, but I was hoping to see the guild master. Gebor and I are old friends – he is still the guild master, yes?” He leaned in conspiratorially and injected a false tone of concern into his voice. “It’s been a while since I’ve heard from him, and with everything that happened here, I was hoping he’d made it. I’m only in town for a day, so I thought I’d stop by.”

“Aye, Gebor is still the guild master. You say you’re an old friend?” Pa’al questioned, with a touch of suspicion.

“Indeed – once upon a time I was a member of this very chapter,” Jasper replied, side-stepping the question.

“I don’t remember a Djinn in our ranks.” The man’s brow clouded with distrust, but Jasper was committed to the bluff.

“Perhaps it was before your time,” Jasper replied and, reaching into his bag, a ring that his uncle had given him that bore the emblem of the Royal House. “If you don’t believe me, show this ring to Gebor. He’ll recognize it,” he said, betting that the guild master would recognize the royal insignia and agree to see him.

Distrust was replaced by distaste as the man accepted the ring. “I see how it is – you’re a noble who thinks your rank should let you waltz right in and meet with the guild master.”

Jasper decided to go with Pa’al’s incorrect assumption, and shrugged with what he hoped was noblesse arrogance. “Am I wrong?”

“I’ll take the ring to Gebor,” the man ground out, “But I can’t make any promises.” He stalked off toward the guild master’s office and, withdrawing a key from his pouch, unlocked the door. He disappeared inside for a fraction of a second, before emerging again and waving Jasper off with a grumpy look. “You’re in luck,” he growled, shoving the ring back into Jasper’s hand.

He palmed it off into his bag and stepped inside the office. Whatever Gebor’s other flaws were, ostentation was not one of them. The guild master’s office was sparsely decorated. A nice, but not luxurious wooden desk occupied most of the room, along with three chairs for him and any potential guests, and an almost threadbare blue rug.

Light streamed in from a window behind the man, but the view was as unremarkable as the room itself, offering a close-up peek into the army barracks beside them. The only trace of self-indulgence was a finely crafted suit of elven armor displayed on a mannequin in the corner and a matching sword, its blade studded with glyphs, hung on the opposite wall, but Jasper suspected those were simply the man’s former adventurer gear rather than true decorations.

A messy pile of papers was spread over the desk, but the man set them aside and rose with an ingratiating grin as Jasper entered. “Come in, come in – have a seat.” He gestured to one of the chairs in front of the desk and waited until Jasper had settled down before continuing.

Taking a seat himself behind the desk, the man steepled his hands and flashed Jasper another smile. “It’s not often a Djinn wanders beyond Dūr-S̆innu, and even rarer for a member of the Royal House. May I ask what I can help you with, my lord?”

Jasper felt a surge of irritation at the man’s sleazy, smarmy attempt at charm, but held his emotions in check. “I was hoping to check some records about some of your members.”

“Well, we do keep records of everyone who joined here, but I’m afraid we can’t just let anyone look at them,” the man replied easily, “but I’d be happy to check for you. Is there anyone in particular you were looking for.”

“A boy and a girl – Jasper Welles and Ihra Takāmu.”

The man’s smile grew thin, and he began tapping his finger against the desk nervously. “I’m afraid those names don’t ring a bell-”

“They were here sometime last year, I believe. Part of an expedition to Yar-Khennor.”

“Ah, perhaps I do recall them,” the man admitted weakly. “We were a bit short-staffed and were forced to send some new recruits along with a more experienced team to deal with a sighting of Gemlirians. I’m afraid they didn’t make it.”

“Do you think it’s wise to lie to me?” Jasper lowered his voice menacingly and, drawing the letter Gebor had written, tossed it on the desk. “I’ve read the letter you sent, and I know they made it out of Yar-Khennor alive. Why did you order them killed afterward?”

Anger flashed through the man’s eyes as he snatched up the letter and perused it, though the beads of sweat forming on his brew attested to another emotion as well. “Perhaps I’ve forgotten some details,” he said with a sneer, “But I think you’ve overstayed your welcome. You may be a noble, but you’re not one of ours. Get out!” he barked.

Jasper’s fingers twisted, and the man yelped as a pair of burning manacles erupted from the ground and clamped around his ankles. Gebor screamed as the smell of burning flesh filled the room, and the door behind Jasper swung wide as Pa’al charged in. Jasper ducked beneath a wild swing and, with a second twist of his fingers, bound him to the floor too. He closed the door, and locked it, before settling back into the chair, just out of Pa’al’s reach.

“Do you know who those two were?” he asked conversationally, renewing the spell that was beginning to waiver.

Neither man replied as they struggled to free themselves from the claws, but Jasper continued unperturbed. “The boy was a lord of the Royal House, kin to King S̆ars̆adû himself, and the girl – well, she may have been a bastard, but her father was someone important,” he lied, “and you tried to have them killed.”

“She was just an orphan,” the man protested.

“And orphans are dispensable?” He asked arching his brow. He renewed the spell again and allowed a shadow of pale flame to run down his hands. “Tell me, guild master, do you know what a firebird is?”

The fear emanating from the man was almost palpable at this point, and he let out a keening cry. “Just tell me what I need to do!”

The spell ran out, but neither man moved to attack him; instead, they watched him with naked fear, flinching as he leaned forward.

“I want you to tell me why you tried to have them killed, and don’t think of lying to me – I’ll know,” he warned, showing the spell he was casting. “Did you really believe they were cultists?”

Gebor settled back in his chair, wincing in pain as his legs brushed against the leather, and a look of utter defeat crossed his face. “No,” he admitted quietly. “The operation was a mistake from the beginning. We were misled about the number of the foe and caught completely unaware by the presence of the Atrometos. Nobody should have made it out of there alive, but those two were far too low-leveled to have arranged it all - unless they are the literal reincarnation of Lord Gemlir and Lady Mēs̆ūta,” he added with an uneasy chuckle.

“Then why accuse them?” Jasper pressed. “The only reason we’re having a conversation at all is that your scheme failed, and the lad returned safely to court, but that was luck, not your intent.”

“I had to,” the man ground out. “Lady Maratānu ordered it – I had no other choice."

Jasper frowned at the unexpected answer, struggling to recall where he’d heard the name. “Lady Maratānu?”

“She was the city lord,” the man explained.

“Was?”

“She died in the attack.”

Jasper found it hard to accept that the city lord had wanted them dead, but his spell told him the man was telling the truth. “And why would she do that?” he demanded.

“I don’t know,” the man sighed. “Quite possibly she was cultist herself – I always found it odd that such a large group of Gemlirians could have infiltrated this deep into our province, and their numbers were so underreported, but with help?” He shrugged. “I had my suspicions about her, but could never prove them, and she carried her secrets to the grave.”

Jasper’s eyes flickered to Pa’al. “And what about him? Did he know about the letter you’d sent? It was enclosed in the letter of recommendation he gave the youths.”

“No,” Gebor replied tersely. “Pa’al brought the letter to be sealed; he had knowledge of anything else.”

A trick of relief flowed through Jasper, glad to learn that the man hadn’t betrayed them after all, and he lapsed into a moment of silence that set the two men even further on edge.

“Do you plan to kill us,” Gebor finally asked.

Jasper didn’t quite know; he’d come seeking revenge, but it seemed the true source of their attempted murder was a now dead noble. He couldn’t question her to find out her motives, nor he could punish her for the attempt. All that was left was the lackey. “No,” he finally ground out. “It seems this Maratānu was the one who I sought.”

Relief washed over the man’s face until Jasper raised a warning finger. “But that doesn't mean you shouldn’t get out of all punishment. How much money do you have?”

“Do you mean to rob me,” the man sputtered, indignation replacing his relief.

“On the contrary,” he replied with a grim smile. “I mean to plant the seeds of charity in your heart. Now how much do you have.”

“Ten thousand gilders,” the man replied sullenly.

“I think the local orphanage could do with a patron. Let’s say a thousand – I’m sure that won’t bankrupt you.” Jasper rose from his true and, after unlocking the door, paused with his hand at the handle. “I’ll be leaving tomorrow, but I’ll be sure to stop by the orphanage. If you haven’t made your donation…” He let the threat hang, and Gebor growled.

“It’ll be there.”

“Good.” His eyes turned to Pa’al, and he gestured to the man. “And you, Pa’al, step outside with me.”

The man cast a fearful glance at the guild master, but Gebor offered him no support, so reluctantly the warrior followed Jasper outside. Jasper made sure to shut the door before turning to the man. Reaching into his bag, he fished out a healthy chunk of gold coins and offered them to the man. “I needed to confirm that you weren’t aware of Gebor’s duplicity before giving you this. Consider it a small token of gratitude."

Taken by surprise, the warrior accepted the coins shoved into his hands after a half-hearted attempt to refuse them which Jasper simply ignored. Instead, leaving the man to watch in confused silence, he strode out of the guild hall, letting the door slam behind him.