25 – Delays

The world lurched. With a sensation like she’d been grabbed and hurled across the continent by a titan, Vivi materialized in Prismarche’s town square.

The space bustled with activity. The Peace Day festival carried on in full swing, though there wasn’t quite the same level of fervent celebration underway. Excitement at that pitch couldn’t last a full week, not to mention how it was only afternoon. By evening, she had no doubt the city’s raucous revelry would return.

Since she found it unlikely that Lord Caldimore and his goons would try anything with Saffra, she was in no rush. But she had also picked up on the fact that Fate, if it existed, liked playing games, so she didn’t intend to dawdle.

She made her way across the city and into the Adventurer’s Guild. Inside was much the same as outside: a spirit of excitement filled the air. A man was slumped against one wall, passed out from the prior night. It seemed like he’d had a little too much fun. She doubted he was the only one.

About two seconds after walking in, a hush started to fall over the gathered adventurers. All eyes slowly gathered on her. A building’s worth of people stopped what they were doing and turned in their seats, looking at her with plain interest. Vivi nearly crawled out of her skin.

Her reputation preceded her. Seeing how she had arrived in Prismarche yesterday, she officially chalked up her mission of ‘lying low’ to a catastrophic failure.

Feeling eyes digging into her back, she walked to the receptionist’s desk. Funny enough, the brown-haired woman seemed less hungover than yesterday.

Her eyes, like everyone else’s, glimmered with curiosity. What had she been told? Had the Guildmaster or Guard Captain been spreading compromising information? Even if not, she’d been teleporting around in plain sight. She had herself to blame for this.

She needed to wash her hands of Prismarche as soon as possible. Unfortunately, that wouldn’t be happening with the giant dimensional anomaly hanging in the sky. She couldn’t bury her head in the sand when people’s lives might be at stake; she would be here often over the following weeks.

At least the receptionist stayed professional. “How can I help, miss?”

“I’m looking for a necklace,” Vivi said without preamble. “Saffra’s, if you know her. Red hair, cat beastkin. She thinks she left it in her room.”

“Let me see if anything was dropped off.” She disappeared under the counter. A moment later, she rose with a wooden container in her hand. After rummaging around, she pulled out a handkerchief and unfolded it. “Would this be it?”

Vivi blinked at Saffra’s silver necklace lying nestled in the cloth. Huh. The ridiculousness of yesterday and this morning had conditioned her to expect every task to somehow turn into a quest. She hadn’t even needed to use a divining spell.

“Yes, I believe so. Thank you.”

She took the offered item. It was a simple silver locket. She almost popped it open to see what was inside, but stopped herself. Supremely powerful mage she might be, that didn’t give her permission to go sticking her nose where it didn’t belong. While her curiosity urged her to take a peek, she wouldn’t violate Saffra’s privacy.

She tucked the item into her inventory for safekeeping.

“That’s all I needed. Have a nice rest of your day.”

“You as well, miss.”

Turning, she saw a blond knight waiting a polite distance away. He smiled when their eyes met, then started to approach with a confident stride, hand resting casually on his sword’s pommel.

No, definitely not.

“[Blink].”

Space warped around her, and she appeared in the alleyway to the side of the Guild. Having deftly avoided what had surely been another side quest, she nodded to herself in satisfaction. She might have heard the man out if he’d looked worried or desperate, but he hadn’t.

Next up was the City Guard. Specifically the two prisoners. The tracking spells she’d dropped on them told her they were where they were supposed to be, but she wanted to put eyes on them. It was becoming a nervous habit, like constantly checking for her purse and phone whenever she left her apartment. She paused at the absurd comparison, and snorted.

Every minute she wasted in Prismarche was another [Blink] spell to catch up with the train hurtling across the continent, so she set a brisk pace.

After a discussion at the guard house, a guard escorted her to the holding cells, and another ran off to undoubtedly make a report to the Captain. Internally, she sighed. She would probably have to speak with him as well. Seeing how she’d been gone all of a few hours, she doubted much could have developed on the dimensional anomaly front.

“We have visitors, just so you’re aware, Lady Adventurer,” the middle-aged guard said, sounding nervous to address her. Which weirded Vivi out. Tiptoeing around her with respect, seeming concerned about how she might reply? Being scared of her? She was some stick-thin shut-in girl whose head barely came up to most people’s chests—including this man’s. Way too strange of an experience.

“Visitors?”

“From the Enchanter’s Guild.”

Her brow furrowed.

Ah. No doubt related to how she’d fixed up the cell’s wards. But she hadn’t done anything crazy, had she? The enchantments had been simple.

…to her. She braced herself to discover another fresh way her perspective was skewed.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

The guard unlocked the iron door and let her in.

The sight that met her nearly made her laugh with resigned exasperation. Sure enough, a gaggle of robed enchanters were inside. Seven in total, five in their waning years, two young. All had a book in hand, or multiple, and were discussing fervently amongst themselves, or muttering. Their eyes flicked from book to wall repeatedly, and they wore expressions of incredulity, amazement, and in one case, greed.

Two were arguing so heatedly their voices carried above the rest. An older man and an older woman, giving the impression of the two eldest—in both manners of speaking—members of the local branch of the Enchanter’s Guild.

“—utterly ridiculous suggestion! Kaltaz clearly flows into Mylna, suggesting a rerouting of external forces into the internal. For a sufficient—”

The woman wasn’t listening; her voice vied with his in volume. “—the buffoonery to even suggest this design is following modern enchanting patterns when even a first year could identify a classical pre-Turning—!”

The creak of the iron door succeeded in drawing the attention of everyone present. Once more, all eyes fell on Vivi.

Ugh. For her own sake, she might start taking her secret identity more seriously. She hated this.

The orichalcum-rank warrior seated on a wooden chair nodded at her, the only person to react in a nonchalant manner. She nodded back. The man didn’t look happy to be watching over the mithril-rank prisoners with such a raucous crowd of enchanters crowding the thin hallway.

“You’re her,” one of the robed individuals said dumbly.