Stepping Up, Draft 1, CH 46 (Patreon)

Zackaria returned with the wine in a crystal container along with crystal goblets they set on a low table while Peolo studied Tibs. They filled them with red wine before handing each over, then smiled appreciatively; as if the three of them goblet of wine in hand was a painting they had worked on.

Peolo looked pained. “I’m afraid we’re going to need privacy, Dear.” He smiled at Zackaria. “I’ll make sure we all get to spend time together after, but right now, you can’t stay. This is going to be… Order business.”

“Of course.” They kissed the top of Peolo’s head. “I’ll go work in my studio. I look forward to hearing about your adventures in the dungeon, Tibs, Carina,” they said before leaving them alone.

“Carina,” the cleric said, “you know there are rules.”

“I do. But who was it that told me that rules obeyed without questions lead to chaos?”

“That was when you were a child, never questioning what you were told.”

She smiled. “Was I supposed to go back to not questioning when I grew older? Because you never mentioned that part.”

“No, and I knew telling you that would be a waste of time the day you stole your first book. I doubt my words set you on the path of questioning everything, but I know I couldn’t ask you to stop. Not when everyone else demanded that of you with so much success.” He smiled and looked at her fondly.

“Alright, Tibs,” Peolo said, looking at him again. “This isn’t me agreeing to help, but tell me why you want Purity when you have so many other elements who would be more appropriate for you.”

“Because I have to.”

* * * * *

“Never lie,” old Grangston had said, his voice shaking from age and pain and probably tainted ale. “Especially when you lie to a mark.”

He wasn’t talking to Tibs when he’d given that advice. He hadn’t known Tibs was there. If he had, he would have sent his three apprentices to beat him. Tibs had snuck at the back of the shake the old man claimed as his home and pried aside enough planks to slip in close enough to listen. There was only one person on the street who could twist a noble around with his tongue, and Tibs intended to learn from him, that the old man like it or not.

“The truth is the best lie to tell. You twist it, you bent it. You mold it until it suits your need exactly, but you never, ever, break it.”

* * * * *

“That is a rather bold claim to make,” Peolo replied. His tone didn’t hold accusation, but there was an expectation of hearing more in it.

Tibs nodded. “Maybe I don’t have to,” he admitted, “but I’ve watched the others with their element. Watch what they do, and I came to the conclusion that Purity was who I wanted to go with now.”

“Conclusion?”

“Carina taught me the word,” Tibs said. “It means that I think over what I want, what’s available, and what I can do, then pick something.”

Peolo smiled slightly. “And Carina explained about Purity?”

Tibs shook his head. “Well, a little, but after I spoke to one of the clerics that came to Kragle Rock when the dungeon graduated. There was an… accident that created a pool of corruption and she was trying to remove it by herself. It seemed strange she’d do that. There was so much of it. When I asked her, she said that even if she couldn’t, it was the work she put into it that matter. That she worked hard at it. That was what was important.”

He paused and thought back over his life. “I’ve had to work hard to stay alive. On my street, then in the dungeon. The guild didn’t give me a chance to take it easier just because of my eyes. I had to continue to go in, even when everyone else had an element. It’s been hard work surviving.”

“How many times have you gone into the dungeon?”

Tibs shrugged. “A lot.”

Peolo looked at Carina.

“It’s hard to say,” she answered. “In the early days, they just grabbed us off the street if our role needed to be filled on a team and we went in. We didn’t get to argue or tell them we were tired. We went it with strangers and did our best. We’d go in every few days at least. When it graduated, they set up a schedule, because at that point nobles were participating. I think that since then we’ve done it as a team a dozen times. Maybe a little less.”

“And what is your role, Tibs?”

“I’m the rogue,” he answered proudly.

Peolo nodded thoughtfully. “Those are not known to have the best survival rate. There’s a lot of distrust of rogues, them being thieves just with a more official-sounding title.”

Tibs nodded. “I was a thief. That’s how I ended up in the cell that had me sent to the dungeon. I picked the wrong pocket. But I’m a Runner now. I’m a rogue and a Runner, and I want to continue. It’s what’s right for me. When I’m Epsilon, I’ll become an adventurer and I’ll work for the guild.”

“You sound very confident about your chances.”

“I have to. If I don’t, what am I going to do, die? Go back to my street? I can’t do that.” He looked at his hands. “I have to make it.” Lowered his voice. “For Mama.”

“Does your mother know what happened to you?” Peolo asked.

Tibs shook his head. “She died. In the cold. I don’t want that to happen to me. She wouldn’t want it to happen to me. The dungeon isn’t easy, but it took me out of the street. I have to continue to survive, for her. I need an element to do that. The dungeon’s getting too hard for me to just find the traps. It’s getting sneakier. I’m going to continue even if I can’t get an element. I’ll never stop working hard.” He shrugged. “Maybe I’ll be the first adventurer to not have an element. But my chances of surviving are higher if I do.”

“So you’d rather not have an element if you can’t have purity?” there was a forced neutrality to the tone that made Tibs cautious of his answer.

He sighed. “I’ll take something else if it’s that or dying. It’s just that none of the others I’ve spoken with have sounded right for me. Fire’s all about heat and energy. Air’s about playing around. Earth is all grumpy. Water’s calm and waiting. Darkness is all mysterious.”

“Wouldn’t darkness be good for you? Rogues and mystery go well together.”

“I’ll probably go with that if I can’t get purity. But the one darkness rogue I knew was all alone because he could tell how devious everyone is. I know people are devious. But I don’t want to be alone. I’d rather believe some can be my friends. My family.” He wiped at his eyes. He hadn’t intended to let Bardik’s memory get to him.

“Uncle, I know there are no purity rogues. And I know Tibs won’t reveal it to anyone. It’s his one chance to continue advancing with us. I don’t think he can survive what’s coming without an element.”

“He said he’d take darkness,” Peolo replied.

“Do you really think he can survive his audience if his heart isn’t really in it?”

“There is no guarantee he’ll survive an audience with Purity either. You understand Tibs that there are no guarantees either way.”

Tibs snorted. “I’ve known that my whole life. Anytime I got a little, it was taken from me by someone bigger and tougher. But I didn’t let that stop me. If I’m going to die because an essence refuses me. I’d rather it be the one I want to be with than some second choice.”

“I can’t even promise you’ll make it to have the audience.”

 Tibs looked up in surprise.

Peolo smiled. “Did you think we had it any easier just because we have a dungeon dedicated to our element? It is still a dungeon. It still wants to kill you. We’ve simply found ways to incorporate that aspect into the ritual that leads to the audience to ensure only those who truly work hard make it.”

Tibs nodded. “Okay. That’s fine. I’d still rather have a chance at the audience rather than just settle for another element.”

Peolo nodded. “Alright.” He nodded to the bracelet on Tibs’s arm. “How long do you have until you have to go back?”

He reflexively covered it. It still served as a reminder of the servitude he was under, even if his wouldn’t kill him.

“There’s no way to know for sure,” Carina answered for him. “A few weeks at least is what we were told.”

“That might not be enough. Unlike with the other elements, there is no speeding through the process to have your audience. It will take as long as it needs to. I can’t simply go in with you and let you go into Purity’s embrace. Like everything else, you will have to work for it. What will you do if the gem turns while you’re still working toward your audience?”

“I’ll accept whatever comes. If it’s my death, at least I’ll have gotten there aiming for what I wanted.”

Peolo didn’t look happy. “I’d rather you live unhappily than die fulfilled.”

Tibs smiled. “I’d rather live happy and fulfilled.”

The cleric chuckled. “Oh, I hope I was never this refreshingly naïve, otherwise, what a grump did I turn into in my old age.”

“You’re not old.”

Peolo rolled his eyes. “I am three times your father’s age and remind me again what you said when you found out how old he is?”

She straightened. “I will not. We have company.”

Tibs looked at her curiously.

“You know that as you get more powerful with your essence, it changes your body, correct?” Peolo asked.

Tibs nodded. “I got that from talking with the adventurers in the town. They don’t all call it running the dungeon. Some use crawling, some diving. When I asked, they said because, in their days, it’s what it was called. They looked no older than the town’s folk, so I figured out it did something.”

The cleric nodded. “The more powerful you are, the slower you age. I don’t know how it is for adventurers, but here we have our family since we are all dedicated to purity.” He glanced at Carina and smile. “Mostly. So we all live longer and don’t have to fear outgrowing the children we’ve come to grow fond of.”

“Do you have many?” he asked.

Peolo shook his head. “My love is Purity. I don’t have any left to dedicate to a family.”

“Then Zackaria is…” Tibs trailed off. All he had for reference were the other Runners and while they didn’t all have a special someone. What he’s seen here resembled Jackal and Kroseph, or Pyan and Geoff…. He swallowed.

“What Zackaria and I have is comfortable. I like them, enjoy their company. But eventually, they’ll grow bored with me not giving them what they want. I explained it to them when they courted me. They think they can change me. When they realize they can’t, it’ll be painful. They might be angry at me, lash out. Then go to someone else who can give them the happiness they deserve. Until then, we enjoy each other’s company.”

“You make it sound easy, them leaving you.”

“It is, now. The first few were hard. I didn’t become a cleric knowing where my devotion would be. Like Carina’s parents, I married too.” He smiled. “She was a lovely woman. A fighter.” His smile fell. “My duties to Purity got in the way. Fortunately, we didn’t have children. Then there was a man, outside the order because I thought his shorter life would make it easier to not be as involved. Instead, it made him ask more. We argued, fought. Not being of the order, he couldn’t understand what Purity means to us. There were a few more, but eventually, I understood how much I could give, and I accepted the consequences.”

“Wouldn’t it be better not to be with anyone then?”

“Tibs,” Carina exclaimed.

Peolo chuckled. “Possibly. But Purity doesn’t warm a bed. Hug me when I’ve had a hard day. Devotion and hard work don’t mean you don’t have a right to comfort when the day is over.”

Tibs felt the cleric’s eyes on him as he looked at the floor, seeing the similarity between him and Jackal. “I’m a Runner. I don’t want to die, but I will. I can’t put someone through the kind of pain that causes.”

“Then take your pleasure where you can. There plenty of men and women out there willing to offer it without attachment.” He drained his goblet. “But now that I’ve talked about myself far more than I’m accustomed to, there’s one last thing I need to warn you about. I can get you into the dungeon along with the next group of acolytes in three days. But there is nothing I can do for how you get out, should you survive your audience. Every acolyte who exits is immediately carted to start their training.”

Tibs nodded. “I’ll find a way. What do I need to do to get ready?”

“The only thing you need to do now is to have your hair shorn. On the morning, I’ll take you in, you’ll need to take a proper bath, and I’ll have the acolyte robes ready for you.”

“I don’t need to starve myself?” Tibs asked, surprised.

Peolo chuckled. “No. The dungeon will take care of that part itself. In fact, I’d recommend you eat well until then. It will be the last food you will have until you exit it.” He smiled. “Actually, you should accompany Carina when she goes visit her family. They are great cooks.”

“What?” Carina was on her feet. “I am not going there. There’s nothing you can say that will make me want to ever see them again after the way they treated me.”

Peolo smiled. “It’s the price of my help to get Tibs into the dungeon.”

* * * * *

Carina dragged her feet.

“Are they that bad?” Tibs asked. His clothing had been cleaned by Zackaria, who had also shorn his hair down to the thickness of a finger. They had hummed through the process and had asked Tibs about the dungeon. He’d been careful to keep his stories to the first floor and the less depressing runs. They were too nice to have to hear about all the people Tibs had lost to the dungeon.

“They’re a bunch of self-centered, narrow-minded, no imagination, Puritans.”

“Isn’t the last part like everyone in the city?”

She glared at him. “That doesn’t make it better.”

She was in her sorcerer’s robes. The ones Sto had made for her. With essence woven through it to make it more resilient and provide her with better defense. Peolo had offered her one of Zackaria’s dresses and she had glared at him. Tibs was sure the only reason she hadn’t shredded the dress was that it hadn’t been bought for her.

“Will it be better if you tell them I’m your special guy?”

She glanced at him, an eyebrow raised. He shrugged.

“No, but thank you for offering. They aren’t going to have a problem with you. You aren’t part of the family. They don’t have expectations for who you’ll turn out to be.”

The neighborhood they were in consisted of larger houses, but no more luxurious than any other. By the sounds of people coming from them, they were that size to accommodate large families.

She stopped and Tibs did so too. Little set this house apart from the others. It was made of rough stones and wooden beams. It had a porch. On it were a set of three rocking chairs and a bench; all looking well used. The shutters were open, a black wood instead of brown or blond like one on the houses on either side.

A lot of voices came from inside.

“How maybe people in your family?” Tibs asked.

“It depends who in the city. By the sound of it, I’d say we’re dealing with thirty of them.”

“I didn’t bring my knives, but I’m sure I can find something to lower the number if that’s going to make you more comfortable.”

She smiled. “No killing my family, Tibs. I don’t care for them, not want them dead.”

He nodded. “I can pick pockets badly and have them kick us out.”

“No picking pockets. You can’t go in the dungeon if you’re in a cell.”

“Actually, it’s kind of how—”

“No picking pockets, Tibs,” she ordered, and he nodded. She sighed. “I guess I just have to go through with this and hope it’s worth it.”

“It will be.”

She glanced at him. “For you. You’re the one getting an element out of this. All I’m getting is…” she motioned to the house.

“A family?”

“I have a family,” she said resolutely. “It’s next to me right now and back in Kragle Rock, having too much fun with his special guy. I should have forced him here so he could suffer with me.”

“Yes, Jackal, among a lot of people he can tell stories to. So much suffering he’d feel.”

“Right. You can tell him all the chances he missed to impress people when we get back. That’s going to serve him right for not being here to offer support.” She stepped onto the porch and entered the house.

“Carina’s home!” a man yelled as he placed polished stone plates on a table. Unlike in Kragle Rock, when speaking with other Runners, Tibs could tell it was a language he didn’t understand. Peolo’s way of getting him to understand language, the cleric had explained, was to weave essence in his mind that purified the words to their meanings so that his mind could understand them.

The words were foreign, but their meaning wasn’t.

“You’re looking good,” a woman said as she walked by, stone goblets in hand. “Who’s your friend?” She was gone before Tibs could introduce himself.

A child poked their head around the edge of a doorway, eying them suspiciously. Men and women came in went, offering greetings faster than Tibs could react to. When he glanced at Carina, her eyes were closed and she had a small smile. She seemed to sense his eyes on her and open them. She shrugged, but the smile remained.

The people moving about didn’t ignore them, but seemed too busy setting the table to stop when they greeted them. It was a chaos that reminded Tibs of Kroseph’s family at the MountainSea inn. Only here, there was no stopping to chat with someone at a table after serving them. Or leaning against the bar, taking in the room. Everyone worked, except the children, but they remained out from underfoot. At the edge of the room, in the doorways.

“Are you going to stand there watching?” a woman asked as she walked by carrying a basket of bread. “There’s more food in the kitchen that needs moving.”

Tibs couldn’t read Carina’s expression as he flashed on her face. He thought it was relief, but it made little sense with the instructions to get to work she’d been given.

“Yes, mother,” she answered and hurried to the other room.

Tibs started to follow.

“There’s no need,” the woman said, then smiled at the doorway, “guests don’t have to do the work.”

“What if I want to help?” Tibs asked, unsure what to do with himself.

“Then you will be most welcome to the family. In that room you’ll find the chairs. Please help bring some to the table.”

Tibs set to work, and he was immediately one of them. First chairs, then candelabras and the candles. Then he helped turning the spit over the fire in the open back of the house. The conversations never stopped, but no important questions were asked. No one demanded to know who he was, what he was going there.

They asked where he was from, how he’d met Carina. One teasing asked if they were engaged and, because of what Peolo did, he understood it was how they referred to the special person in their lives. He answered the questions he could and no, Carina wasn’t his special girl. They were just friends and teammates.

He stopped himself from saying they were family. Here, among her family, and watching her work with the others, contentment on her face, it didn’t feel right to make that claim.

* * * * *

They sat as a man lit the candles on the table. He seemed no older than the others, but there was a sense of authority about him and of ceremony as he lit the candles. The energy that had filled the house quieted until it was an undercurrent to the peace.

There were three and six people at the table, including him and Carina, but not the children sitting on an adult’s lap. Tibs had never seen so many people at one table, or a table large enough to fit them all. How was he going to reach the meat he wanted to put on his plate?

“You did good work, Carina,” the man said, sitting between the woman who was her mother and a man a little older than Carina and shared the same brown hand with hints of red. “As did your friend. Welcome to our family, Tibs.”

Tibs whispered a thank you, unsure if he’d been greeted as Carina’s special guy or if it was how well he’d worked that earned him a place, or what exactly it meant to be part of their family.

“The meal had been made with care and attention,” the man intoned. “The table set with determination and effort. Fire has been brought to assist in purifying this room. Live pure, work hard, and always keep wary of corruption.”

Chaos erupted as soon as the last word was said. People reaching for bowls or bottles, wine and ale being poured among laughter and talk and some arguing. The question of how he’d reached the food he wanted was answered as the bowls, bottles, and plates moved about the table with a lack of order that astonished Tibs. Some moved around, some across, so were slid to someone demanding to have it as others went from person to person. Everyone served themselves heartily when the food of their choice reach them, and Tibs did the same.

The food was delicious.

He would never tell Kroseph, but it was even better than what the inn served.