Photo by Diane Picchiottino on Unsplash
Photo by Amandine BATAILLE on Unsplash
This is a continuation of a storyline I began a few weeks ago here and plan to continue as time and inspiration allows! I hope you enjoy!
It was that bow that truly hooked me. The Magister had never abased himself to anyone. It was well known that he had even embarrassed the Prime Minister when he rose to his position. His refusal to acknowledge the Prime Minister as his superior moments after being confirmed as the new Magister had set the stage for decades of tension and not so subtle rivalry between the Magicians Guild and Parliament. He had shown deference to no one since. But I have just seen him bow to a quack
The questions that rose in me burned to be answered. I watched intently through the filthy glass of the window as the Gilded disk of the Magister's air carriage rose vertically, the crackling cushion of energy that it rode on became a blinding iridescent column of light until it reached it's cruising height 30 feet above the street and began to move, sucking the column of energy up behind it and leaving purple splotches across my vision. What a ridiculous waste of power was all I could think as the carriage left the Plaza and headed back towards the distant bulwarks and towers up on the hillside that were the Magicians Guild.
When the Guild was originally founded the Wizards and Mages in their pride had refused to be a part of the city proper. They had established the guild on the outskirts of the city, a quarter mile away on the first of a series of rolling hills that extended away towards the mountains. City's tend to grow however, and within the first 100 years of it's founding the buildings and shops and streets of the city grew outward, just as the homes and laboratories of the mages sprung up around the Guild. It was not long before the two were indistinguishable and whether they chose to like it or not the Guild had become a part of the sprawling metropolis that is Barster City.
Once the afterburn of the Magister's ostentatious transport had faded I decided it was time to investigate further. I needed to see what was in that shop. With luck I would be able to meet this man the Charlatan. Perhaps I would find some insight into what could cause the single most powerful and proud man in the city to bow... publicly!
I called to one of my companions that I would return shortly, to pay for me if they left while I was gone. He grimaced but consented. So he should- I bought him three rounds just the day before.
I stepped outside and crossed the street, dodging a courier and stagecoach as I did.
"Wotchit Mista!" The courier yelled as he passed. I shouted incoherently back at him and stepped up onto the pavement in front of the Charlatan's shop. Already I could smell the acrid tang of potions and herbs and feel it assaulting my nostrils, nearly making me gag. I stifled my gut reaction and quickly went inside, the sooner I had satisfied my curiosity the better. My heart began to quicken in my chest as I passed through the door. There were strange sigils carved into the doorframe. I passed in and strangely the overpowering stench of alchemical concoctions subsided almost immediately.
"Hello! I'm looking for something that can help with my daughter's fever?" I dissembled in order to cover my nervousness. Why am I shaking! I'm just walking into some quacks shop!? It nearly got the better of me but I managed to pass through an entry hall into the shop. It was nothing like I expected. I had been in Alchemist's laboratories many times before, and non were this pristine. There were no burn marks anywhere, no evidence of alchemical experiments gone wrong, the smell had dissipated entirely. There was a set of glassware on a table to the right, but most of the space was open. The air smelled pleasantly fresh- a surprise to be sure in the stench of the city and the stinging insidious odor on the steps.
A small library lay on my left with several walls covered by shelves a simple table and chair sat beneath a window. A stack and papers along with a few vials of chemicals lay on the table. A man, rising to greet me.