Chapter 8: Chapter 8: Dead Contract

The last rays of sunlight vanished behind the horizon. A young man and woman in black passed through the western gate from New Town into Old Town. Guards at the gate glanced over, not at the young man, but the woman who everyone knew by sight. One of the guards gave hushed whispers to the other. The other shook his head.

“It’s the end of our shift and I’m not starting any trouble with her,” the guard said in a low tone.

Symon’s ears flexed as he heard the guards muttering to each other. Serafina wasn’t bothered, walking along like she owned the street and everyone on it. They made their way deeper into Old Town, traveling north along the wall street and toward a large tower in the distance.

“Will the city guard give us any trouble?” Symon asked as he glanced around.

Serafina shook her head. “Not if they know what’s good for them. We don’t have time to bandy words and insults with the local bucklers. We must convince Slanka to back us, or our heads may be on the chopping block.”

A chill ran down Symon’s spine as he pictured himself on his knees and his head on a bloodstained block with the headsman standing over him with a sharp axe. It was enough for him to change the subject and talk about something else.

“Why do you barter or go hungry when you do have coins to spend?” Symon asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

“You cannot keep treasure if you spend it,” Serafina said plainly. “Each rank requires a certain number of coins to achieve. You learned that fifty rooks get you into the guild and gain the rank of novice. To achieve proficient, you must acquire five-hundred silver knights. To achieve master, one thousand gold queens.”

Serafina looked down as they walked. “Platinum kings are rarer and harder to acquire. It is why you only need five hundred platinum kings to achieve the rank of grandmaster.”

Symon scratched the back of his head as they walked. “It sounds reasonable, but couldn’t one robbery of a wealthy person pay out enough coin to achieve those ranks quickly?”

Serafina lifted her head and looked over at Symon with amused eyes. “The rich simply don’t leave their wealth in some vault and all is well. To have great wealth, requires great protection. The wealthy and powerful use some of their coin for spies, guards, vaults, politics. Their influence is often large enough, that anyone not in their right mind, trying to rob them, will suffer a terrible fate, including anyone who is associated with them, friends and families.

“As for what you said, yes, to a degree, a rogue could achieve grandmaster if they were lucky, but then, their claim and reputation would quickly fall. With each rank, a rogue must learn the skills within each rank. Adventurers can gain a lot of wealth from exploring a dungeon, but now matter how much treasure they find, they will not be accepted because they require status, influence, and power.

“In our case, to become a grandmaster and a leader, you must be accepted unanimously by everyone in the guild and by more than half of the other guild leaders here in Gray Gate. A rogue may attend a personal rank of grandmaster, but to lead, you need the whole guild backing you. They will never accept a nobody who was lucky enough to gain a lot of wealth.

“Every rogue in Gray Gate has a ledger. The grandmasters answer to the mages. It was the mages that helped with the proper enchantments for the ledgers. Most cannot read your ledger, but if a grandmaster mage wishes it, they can read it. To our benefit, the mages couldn’t care less about our politics, all they care about is results.”

Symon nodded as he drank in every word and mentally filed it away.

Serafina looked ahead. “I meant to compliment you. You’re lie was very convincing. Robert is often very shrewd. Either he believed you, or he simply likes you.”

Symon shrugged. “As you mentioned, a good lie has a basis in fact. My parents knew many people and made lots of friends. Their friends were kind enough to teach me, and my parents, the arts of fighting and knowledge. I may have not been in a monastery, but I knew of them in my travels when I was younger.”

“They must be special people,” Serafina said.

“They were,” Symon said and left it at that.

Serafina continued to look ahead, respecting Symon’s silence. The pair made their way along the cobblestone street until a massive tower loomed around the bend.

Symon lifted his gaze and took it in. Despite the many times he visited Old Town in his fox form, he never dared getting too close to any of the mage towers. He kept his distance and admired them from afar, his mind spinning on with fantasies of what mystical spells and rituals were performed within their hollowed halls. To approach one, understandably caused the young man some concern.

What if they sense who or what I am? I might be taken into custody and slaughtered for my blood, bones, and meat. I hope Serafina knows what she’s doing. This could turn ugly and we may need a hasty retreat.

The closer they walked, the finer details began to appear to Symon. The first thing he noticed was the weathered stone. The tower looked like it stood for many hundreds of years, but even at a distance, the other towers looked brighter, and shiny. This tower looked like a muted version of the others. The window archways were closed. The flags with skulls on them looked old and a few of them had some torn edges. There was a gloom coming off the tower, like Symon could lick it from the very air.

“The Necromancy Academy has seen better times,” Serafina said in a low tone as they approached the front door. “Thirty years ago, the grandmaster of the academy was taken from her tower against her will. It was often whispered she delved too deep into dark magics, but no one can say for certain.

“After she was taken, the very next night, our guild was attacked and its members exiled. It shows the importance of being backed by a powerful grandmaster mage.”

The pair slowed down as they approached the door.

“The Necromancy Academy is not thought of well when compared to the other academies. New grandmasters took over the position, but the damage was done. They would not stay long, and moved on to different futures. Most people, even mages, thought the necromancy academy was weak and cursed. Now, most students avoid the tower and spend a year relaxing or pursing other studies.”

“Won’t their studies be incomplete?” Symon asked.

“You would think so, but it seems, the other grandmasters do not seem to care.”

The pair stopped before the main entrance. A pair of thick doors stood in a carved archway. A symbolic metal skull was each door. The skulls were roughly hand-sized and lacked a lower jaw. The wood had some cracks in it, but it still looked strong enough to keep people out.

“I’ll do the talking. But stay close. She may have a question or two for you. Be truthful. If she is to be our backer, we must speak the truth,” Serafina said out the side of her mouth.

“What about, you know, my blood?” Symon said out the side of his mouth.

“Be truthful about anything but that,” Serafina corrected and lifted her hand.

The woman in black stepped to the door and touched one of the flat, metal skulls. The skull’s eyes glowed for a moment before they went dark again.

The pair of ravens stood, waiting patiently. After several long moments, Symon looked over to Serafina. She looked over to him and shrugged. In that moment, the door creaked open and demonic eyes stared out, hovering in the darkness within.

“No visitors! Come back tomorrow!” a small, shrill voice barked.

“Slanka Mistmourn will see me. Tell her, the Raven Guild Grandmaster is here to see her,” Serafina said with confidence.

The yellow, hovering eyes, narrowed. “There is no raven guild grandmaster.”

“Let your mistress decide what is real and what is rumor,” Serafina smiled.

The yellow eyes regarded the woman in black for a moment. The door closed and something locked into place.

“Is that a hard no?” Symon asked.

“Wait for it,” Serafina said, keeping her smile.

A cold breeze blasted along the inner wall of Old Town and washed over the pair in black. Symon shivered a little, thinking about his new bed and wanting to be in it right now. The moment the breeze passed, the sound of something unlocking touched the air and the door opened again.

A small humanoid floated out of the shadows of the inner archway and into plain view. It had small, tiny bat-like wings, wings not strong enough to keep its body floating. Symon barely understood how such a small, demonic creature could be keeping itself afloat. It had a long, pointed nose. Yellow, slitted eyes glowed. It had short, squat legs and arms that were longer than its body. The demon’s hands were lower than its feet as it hovered at eye level.

“Grandmaster Mistmourn will spare you a few moments to speak your peace. Follow me,” the little demon said and turned around in midair.

The demon led the way as Symon and Serafina followed. Once they were inside, the door closed shut and the lock slid into place.

Symon’s eyes widened as he stepped in. A majestic hall stood before him. It had hanging banners and tapestries. Curved stairways ran upwards on his left and right. Lanterns glowed with subdued radiance. Stone, skeletal knights stood at attention before the great hall. The statues were so detailed, it looked like they could step off their pedestals, ready to defend the tower from enemies.

Symon was astounded as he swiveled his head, drinking it all in. It was only after a tiny moment, did he see the cobwebs hanging from some lanterns and flags. The air was a little musty, like very few people had been through this area in some time. It looked and felt, less of an academy, and more of a tomb the further in they walked.

“Follow me,” the small demon said as it hovered to the right stairs.

Symon could barely contain his excitement. The tower may have seemed deserted and old, but it was still a mage tower. Despite the recent dark history, for hundreds of years, this was one of the places where young mages came to learn necromancy.

The climb up the stairs was slow. The demon didn’t seem to be in a rush as it took its time floating up. Symon continued to looked around as Serafina kept her gaze on the little demon.

When they reached the top, the trio made their way down a deserted corridor. When they reached a thick door, the little demon waved his hand and the door opened.

“Do not touch anything,” the small demon said rudely before floating in.

Symon didn’t blink as he stepped into an immense room. Books shelves lined the walls. Several tables stood in the middle of the chamber. A crackling heart was on the far wall. Before it was a large desk, with stacks of books. Symon likened it to a fort with towers, all made from books. In the center of the stacks of book, a little green goblin sat in a big chair. She was looking down on an open book, her black hair tied back into a bun and her large, green ears poking out from the sides of her head. Thick glasses sat on her small nose. The glasses magnified her eyes to make them look bigger than they actually were.

“Your guests, Mistress,” the hovering demon made a pathetic half bow.

“Thank you, Gregor. That will be all for now,” the goblin woman said and made a wave of her hand.

“Very good,” the demon said and vanished in a puff of smoke and left a faint scent of brimstone.

The goblin with glasses looked up from her book, her eyes behind the glasses comically big.

“Was my imp rude to you?” the goblin asked.

“No,” Serafina answered plainly.

The goblin nodded. “Good. Gregor can be a little trying. He hasn’t had any students to watch over for some time and I think it’s been getting to him.”

The goblin sat up and closed the book she had in front of her. Her eyes narrowed into slits as she leaned forward onto her elbows.

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Serafina bowed. “A pleasure to finally meet, Grandmaster Mistmourn.”

Symon caught Serafina’s bow and mirrored it to the goblin.

“Is this some kind of prank?” the goblin asked plainly.

Serafina and Symon stood up at the same time.

“Not at all, Grandmaster,” Serafina said politely.

“First, there is no raven guild to speak of, not in the traditional sense. Second, considering my colleagues, it is not out of the realm of possibility that they would attempt a prank to ensure I remain miserable and in this tower.”

Serafina took a step forward, her hands clasped behind her. “Nothing of the sort. My name is Serafina Black, and this is my fellow raven, Symon.”

“I know who you are,” Slanka said with a tired edge. “I just don’t understand why you’re here. The Raven Guild has no grandmaster, just as the Necromancy Academy has no students. Have you come here to simply drive home those facts?”

“We are here to speak about what is happening now and what might be happening for the future,” the raven in black said with a kind tone.

The goblin leaned back in her chair. “As you can see, I’m not terribly busy. Do tell me your business so I can return to my reading.”

Serafina took in a deep breath. “The Necromancy Academy has gone through several grandmasters, but none of them have stayed for more than a few years. You have stayed beyond five years, and that is why we’re here.”

The goblin continued to stare at Serafina. “Yes, I believe I read it somewhere, some small treaty or rule, where any grandmaster who leads an academy for five years, may enter contract negotiations with the guild who pledges loyalty to them. Is that why you’re here? Do you hope to undo what was done to your guild thirty years ago?”

“In a sense, yes,” Serafina said.

Slanka let out a tired sigh. “I admire your courage, but this may be something I cannot do. My fellow grandmasters have made it clear, over many times, that the raven guild must remain broken. There was a terrible betrayal and all goodwill was lost when the members of your guild were exiled, save yourself. You are meant to be a reminder of such transgressions, a lesson for the other guilds.”

The goblin looked down, “As was this academy, for what a mage did three decades ago.”

“It doesn’t have to be this way, not anymore,” Serafina said she approached the desk.

“How so?” Slanka asked, her eyes unimpressed.

“Earlier today, I had taken my fellow raven to the New Town Bazaar, to show him some of the sights. Another guild approached us and there were some choice words. Because of that, and my guild’s infamous reputation, what transpired may be twisted and retold to your fellow grandmasters. By the morning, all of them will be informed of what happened and may be coming to you with questions.”

The goblin shook her head. “They barely speak with me and I doubt they will say much.”

“They may use it to insult you further,” Serafina said with knowing eyes.

“And what of it? They insult me with not making their students learn the necromantic arts. All forms of magic are a requirement to graduate, excluding my academy. While the other grandmasters enjoy the appreciation and attention by their students, I am treated like some leper. I have spent most of my life learning necromancy and I have no students to pass on the magical art of the dead.”

The goblin’s small hand formed into a tiny fist on the desk. “And you come to me, asking me to back a fallen guild because I have been too foolish to move on from this post? It’s obvious why you’re here, but I see no benefit by challenging my colleagues, or the status quo.”

Slanka’s eyes narrowed. “Even if I entertained this, how can I back a guild with no guild stone? I know the history, whether it’s true or false. I would be laughed right out of Old Town.”

Serafina nodded. “It’s true, backing us would be a determinant to the established status quo, but what happens beyond that? What happens if we become something more?”

“Do not speak riddles,” Slanka scoffed.

Serafina shook her head. “No riddles. Us coming here, this evening, and telling you what happened will give you an edge so you are not caught off guard. It will give you enough time to prepare a proper response, should your colleagues make a jest about it.

“Each academy needs a guild, to connect your influence with the people. That is why, most of Gray Gate doesn’t take your academy seriously. What I propose is, as grandmaster, back our guild and claim to resume our work here. In turn, you will have eyes on the street. You will have influence again as we convince new students to take your academy seriously. We will sing your praises and guide many back to this tower and your teachings.

“The necromantic arts require certain ingredients and hard to find items to aid in your spells and rituals. We will be your unseen hands for those errands. If we resume a true partnership, you and your academy will shine once again, equal or better than the other academies. This, I swear.”

Slanka eyed the woman in black. “I must admit, you do paint a pretty picture. But pretty words cannot change reality. There is still the issue of no guild stone and, last I heard, no true rogue grandmaster to take over leadership of the fallen guild.”

“I currently have plans for both,” Serafina stated with confidence.

The goblin gave a slow nod. “I’m sure, after so much time, you do. I don’t wish to know the details, but you have gained my interest.”

“What can we do to ensure we have a contract and your backing?” Serafina asked with attentive eyes.

The goblin tapped her little, green finger on the desk.

Symon simply listened as watched the gears turn behind Slanka’s thick glasses.

The goblin nodded to herself, like she had come to some internal decision. She leaned forward and looked at Serafina with shrewd eyes.

“Over the next six weeks, new hopefuls will be arriving to attend the academies. Many of them will be eager to learn, but many of them may already know of my academy’s history. I wish to change that.

“I propose a temporary backing. The verbal contracts between the academies and the guilds are called an angel contract. As long as there is a witness, they are binding, ensuring an academy and a guild’s bond is as strong as iron. But a temporary contract is called a dead contract. If the particulars are not met, the contract is buried and the binding broken.

“I am willing to enter a dead contract, under several conditions. The first two stipulations are, your guild must recover its guild stone and a suitable leader must have earned their proper rank.

“The third and final stipulation may be harder than the first two, but if you agree, I will back you, for a time. If you can register fifty new mages to attend my academy by the start of the academic year, recover your guild stone, and have a proper rogue grandmaster for your guild, I will agree to an angel contract. If you cannot fill those three requirements, there will be no longer any contact between us, nor will I aid you should the other guilds come for you.”

“I agree to your terms,” Serafina said with confidence.

The goblin turned her attention to Symon. “What say you? As witness, do you agree? Or are you just a handsome young man without a thought in his head?”

“I agree to being a witness, and fulfilling the terms of the agreement,” Symon said with equal confidence.

Slanka smiled. “Good to hear, considering your head may be on the chopping block if you don’t succeed.”

The goblin turned her attention to Serafina, “It would appear we have a temporary accord. When and if, my colleagues come to me with questions or demands, I will defend you without overplaying my hand, but the clock is ticking. The sooner you achieve the terms, the sooner we can get on with our work.”

Slanka snapped her fingers. A puff of smoke appeared and Gregor hovered before the desk.

“Yes, my mistress?” the imp said with a scratchy voice.

“See our guests to the door,” the goblin said as she opened a book and began reading again.

“Thank you, Grandmaster Mistmourn,” Serafina said with a small bow.

The goblin didn’t look up as she continued to read.

“This way,” Gregor said as he held out his open hand to the door.

The trio vacated the grandmaster’s chamber and made their way downstairs. Once they reached the front door, it opened and the floating imp bowed. Serafina was first to leave, followed by Symon. He glanced back, curious about the imp, but the door was quickly shut and locked.

“That went better than expected,” Serafina said as mist flowed up from her lips.

The chill swamped Symon and he shivered to its cold touch.

“It feels like we have a lot more to do in a short amount of time,” Symon said as he tried to control his shivering muscles.

Serafina nodded before turning to the young man. “The evenings and nights are getting colder. Let’s get back and I will find a jacket for you.”

Symon nodded as he looked at Serafina, “How are we going to accomplish getting the guild stone back, earn enough platinum kings for your proper rank, and ensure fifty mages will attend the necromancy academy, all in six weeks?”

The woman in black gave Symon a measured looked and a wicked grin. “By any means necessary. But let me handle some of the details.

“You, my young raven, will focus on improving your skills and earning enough coin to reach proficient rank. After you have sufficient skills, we will move onto the next important step.”

Serafina looked up at the mage tower, her eyes filled with glowing excitement. She lowered her gaze to Symon, the same excitement in her eyes.

“A guild cannot survive with simply two members. When you have learned enough, we will began adding more to our family, and you will be the face of a new generation of ravens,” she declared with dreamy enthusiasm.

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