Fernan IV: The Sage of Villechart

Make your own decisions.

The thought rattled in his head as he began the walk to the Spirit Quartier.

Didn’t he? He was here, after all. Protecting his home. And what was so bad about following the prescribed path, anyway? Well-trod ground was like that for a reason. With a situation this dire, the last thing he needed to be was reckless.

At least Magnifico was willing to help. With any luck, this Lord Lumière would be too. He could go to this meeting, explain his situation, and walk away with the spiritual sundial so desperately needed. That was the path in front of him, for better or for worse. Despite everything, it seemed like it would be doable, and quickly enough to be safe about it.

Even if it did nothing to help the geckos with their food.

Fernan suppressed his feelings of guilt as he looked down at Mara, scurrying across the ground slightly ahead of him. It made it easier to see the way, when it was still difficult to view the fine, faded warmth of the ground.

Seeing the ocean had helped too, at least. He’d been expecting a massive black abyss, bracing himself for the disappointment of it, but there was life everywhere. Against the cold of the water, it was even easier to see: clawed insects scuttling along the floor with a faint red glow; bulbous creatures almost like inflated goat’s bladders, with tendrils trailing lazily beneath them; even enormous fish in the distance, larger than even the grandest gecko, preying on the smaller as spurts of glowing blood gushed into the cold around them..

Mara had been similarly enraptured, sticking her nose tentatively into it before rapidly pulling out and complaining of the cold. She had said that the streams of snowmelt in the mountains were colder, but the spectacle of life within them didn’t even compare. That was easy to believe, given what the ocean looked like. It had been hard to even tear her away for the meeting, but Magnifico had said noon, and in a strange city that meant leaving as early as possible.

At dawn, the water was at its coldest point, its lack of warmth visible even compared to the air above it, which let him see the turbulent waves rise and fall. And, Mara said, if he practiced at it, a similar method might help him distinguish the ground. That was the hope, anyway.

In the meantime, he was but a helpless follower, taking note of people turning to stare as they passed, fireplaces and ovens burning to illuminate the shape of houses, and patterns of horse-shaped glows casting their slight illumination on the wagons behind them, or riders above.

Even with his limited viewpoint, it was obvious that the buildings were getting larger as they passed into the Spirit Quartier. Modest houses clustered close together gave way to towering manses, stretching multiple stories in the air. Even the smallest of them would have towered over Jerome’s house, the lamps and candles within them hanging in the air, warmth fading into the walls behind them.

The people were thinning out as well, somewhat strangely.

There were plenty in the mansions, moving quickly around the lower floors, many of them clearly taking food in and out of massive ovens, with the odd person adding fuel to the yellow braziers burning on most of the roofs. But the streets were increasingly empty.

Perhaps it was the early hour? By this point, mid-morning was well underway, but the shiftlessness of city folk was a common talking point in his village, and there might have been some truth to it.

“Why did you stop?” With no one around to hear, there was little danger in Mara’s question.

Fernan blinked. “You see that too, right? The house that’s completely empty?” The shimmer in the air was faint, but small glowing creatures darting through the air looked unmistakably like they were scuttling across the upper floors of something. What was a house in this quartier doing empty? “Is there anything I’m missing, Mara? Anything that can tell us who lives here?”

“Here, let me give you a better look. Metal is tough!” Metal?

“Those look like letters too. I don’t know what they mean though.” Mara padded forward, puffing out a gust of flame onto what revealed itself to be an iron gate in front of them. As the warmth settled on the metal while dispersing through the air, it gave shape to it, and the plaque that rested on it.

He felt a brief flutter in his chest at the realization that the raised surface of the letters would make it possible for him to read it. Not as practical as books, but it was something.

Doumagnot Delune, the letters said. Delune Residence. Fernan frowned, trying to think of who that could be, but nothing came to mind. Florette would know, but she was gone, off to correct her mistake.

“Let’s go in! I think I see a mouse!” Mara stuck her face past a gap in the gate about a foot wide, twisting sideways to make it further in..

Fernan sighed. “I don’t think you should––”

Mara had already squeezed through the bars somehow, despite looking too large to make it, stepping tentatively up the path to the empty mansion. Fine.

“Run away if you see anyone!” Fernan called after her. “I’m going to the meeting. We can meet back at the pier with Florette.” Really, it was a wonder that the two of them didn’t get along better.

“Should I catch one for you?” she hissed. “There are lots of them here.”

“No, thank you. Just make sure to avoid people. They might think you’re wild, or dangerous.”

“I am dangerous! Grr!” She blew a puff of smoke into his unamused face.

“See you at the pier.” With a roll of his eyes, Fernan returned to the path. At least, his best approximation of it.

“Bye!” Mara turned back and raced up towards the deserted house.

He hadn’t really thought about the fact that he was leaving his guide behind, but he wanted to be able to navigate more independently anyway, and with the wide avenues here, he had a lot of leeway. Especially since the roads were so vacant. All he really had to do was avoid crashing into the houses, all of which were well enough lit with warmth to make that fairly trivial, at least on the ground floors where it would matter..

It also didn’t hurt that the Temple of Soleil was by far both the largest and the brightest of anything in view. Situated on a hill, two massive insignias of the sun, emblazoned with orange flame, sat atop circular towers at the front of the building, the glowing yellow interior behind them shaped like the upturned hull of a boat.

Up close, it felt even more impossibly huge. Even the gap at the entrance was the size of a house. Strange, to think that the offerings given all the way back in Villechart indirectly helped maintain this.

Well, probably the ones here more. Each sage bargained alone for their share of a spirit’s power, unless they were forced into a deal where they had no say in the matter. Huzzah.

The interior was even warmer, almost shockingly so. The walls and ceilings were glowing themselves, far more than any of the absorbed warmth from house ovens and hearths. He didn’t realize that the whole structure was glass until he reached out and touched it, feeling that smoothness that applied to little else.

The image took shape in his mind’s eye, the sunlight flowing in from all directions to heat the interior. Something about it seemed familiar, almost like a dream he half-remembered, but the shape was wrong for that, as was the height.

Altars circled around the outer edge of the room, each depicting a glowing man with rays darting out from behind his head in all directions. Adorned on the shoulder was a circular ring, tick marks engraved around the edge. In one, Soleil parted clouds in front of him. Another had him cradling a baby with a blank face. The largest, the only in the center, simply showed the spirit standing, arms crossed in front of him, as a beam of glowing white light passed from a gem embedded in his head to the floor.

“It tells you the time,” a voice said from behind him. “Look at the number that the light falls on.”

Number? It must have been painted, or inked, because nothing stood out on the floor where the beam shone. “I’m afraid I can’t see it.”

The voice sighed. “Magnifico did say you were provincial, but I expected at least basic literacy. Have Duke Debray’s programs truly come to nothing?” The man stepped out and nudged the area where the light touched the floor with his foot. “See the ‘two’’ there? That means it’s two hours until noon. You’re early, boy.”

Fernan narrowed his eyes. “I can’t see the same way other people do. The numbers aren’t visible to me.”

“A likely story.” He sighed. “Well, let’s be done with this quickly then. Magnifico said you wished to meet me, well consider me met. Now you can run back to your village and enrapture them all with the tale of how you met the High Priest of the Sun. I’m sure it will be the highlight of their year. Excuse me.”

Before he could walk away, Fernan tapped him on the shoulder. “You’re Aurelian Lumière then? I have more to discuss with you.”

“Lord Lumière, you impudent swine.” He turned back to face Fernan and his flame immediately grew brighter. “What is wrong with your face?”

Clenching his fists, Fernan tried his best to keep a neutral expression. “My eyes were consumed with flame, as part of my pact with the flame spirit Gézarde. I’m a sage, just like you.”

The lord tipped his head back in what was clearly a stifled scoff. “I rather doubt that. But if you are truly a sage to some lesser spirit, I suppose I can hear you pay your homage to me. Present your tribute, and we can be finished for the year.”

Homage? “How much did Magnifico tell you?”

“Little. He was rushed, and we had other, more important matters to discuss.” Lumière’s eyes flashed slightly brighter than the rest of his narrow face, making it briefly easier to see the contours. “I’m afraid I have rather pressing business with the Festival of the Sun, not to mention the mêlée. The honor of Soleil himself is at stake, beset upon by heathen foreigners.”

That was begging for clarification, but Fernan didn’t want to distract further from the matter at hand. “I need a sundial. It’s the only way to keep my village warded and safe.”

“Is that so? I hope you’re a good swimmer, then.”

Fernan raised an eyebrow

“Much of our spare supply was shipped out a few weeks ago, when a vicious bandit attacked the merchants we employed to transport them. Quite brutal, as I understand it, though I can assure you that the culprit has been dealt with.” He shrugged. “In the scuffle, the dials fell into the harbor, lost in its murky depths. My acolytes have only managed to recover a few, now in high demand.”

“Do they glow?” If they were spiritual, he might be able to find them himself.

Lord Lumière stared at him mutely for a moment. “They cast a shadow of Soleil’s light. It’s not a lamp. Merciful Sun, the state of you poor villagers. May Soleil guide your path away from your dark ignorance, child.” He placed a hand on Fernan’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, we’ll have more prepared after the solstice. Come back in half a year.”

Khali’s curse. “Would there be any way to acquire one sooner? One of the ones you have up here for decoration, perhaps?”

His flame grew brighter. “Desecrate Soleil’s statues? Boy, I shall do you the rare favor of forgetting that you even suggested such heresy.”

“It’s for my village. We need it to ward off attacks from flame geckos.” Because we’re stealing their food, and we can’t come to an agreement. But that was a thought for later. “Is there any possible way I could get one in time to bring it home before the solstice?”

“Hah!” the lord scoffed. “Every sage and acolyte is preserving their energy for the festival. We can’t be wasting it making baubles. It’s absolutely essential to spread Soleil’s message, especially in these trying times. Guerron’s people must know who they serve, or the consequences could be dire.”

Fernan felt his eyes blaze up, saw the surprise in the silhouette of the lord’s face, but he forced himself calm. Anger would solve nothing here. “There must be some way. Perhaps I could borrow one? Or pay you?”

“Tch. If you can spare ten thousand florins, I suppose the Temple could part with a sundial for a few weeks. Any longer and we would be forced to charge you more, you understand.”

Ten thousand? He and Florette had come here with less than two hundred between them. Who could possibly afford that?

“That’s in addition to the tribute of course. I understand you are a new sage, so I expect only the first year’s worth.”

“I don’t understand.”

Lord Lumière sighed. “Just as your petty flame spirit owes his allegiance to Soleil, so too do you owe yours to me. Three percent of your offerings, or a commensurate financial sum.”

“Our alderman, Jerome, he already paid the tax man. Lord Debray already has what we owe him from this year.”

“Duke Fouchand Debray is your overlord in physical matters, but if you’ve awakened as a sage, I can assure you that your spiritual concerns are subordinate to me. Especially if you’re going to come here and be demanding during the busiest time of year, as we fight to survive against those bilgewater Malins.”

Fernan took a deep breath. “Alderman Jerome is a sage. Of Soleil, just as you are. I’m sure whatever he has worked out with you is still in place. It’s been that way for decades. That’s not what I’m here to talk about.”

“Yes, yes. You want a way to prove you met me beyond all doubt. But I’m afraid your word will have to be enough. Now, if you will simply present your tribute, we can be done with this.”

A foul burning scent filled his nose as he realized that his eyes had set a lock of hair smoking. Without dropping eye contact, Fernan extinguished it, smashing it against his forehead. “I’m sure that Jerome has already provided that.”

“Well, I’ve never heard of this Jerome. He’s the previous sage for this flame spirit you mentioned? Zardon, was it? Or Gizzard?”

“He’s a sun sage! He studied at this very temple! Probably made his contract with Soleil where we’re standing right now. I’m sure he’s already sent you any tribute you require.”

“Hmm.” Lord Lumière tilted his head back. “Why did Magnifico want me to meet you, then?”

Fernan felt his eye twitch, though with the flames he had no idea what that might look like. “To get a sundial. To protect my village.” What was wrong with this man?

“Ah yes, of course. I’m afraid that will be impossible at the moment, but if you return in half a year, I’m sure we can––”

“Now! I need one now! Whatever it takes.” He shook his head rapidly to extinguish more burning hair. He’d have to cut it shorter if this was going to keep being an issue.

“I see.” Lord Lumière folded his arms. “Well, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to have another sage conducting sacrifices for the hierarchy of Soleil. At a crucial moment like this, we need all of the spiritual energy we can get.”

“So you’re saying I can work for it?” That would be acceptable, provided he could get the sundial in time. “Good. Just tell me what I need to do.”

The lord nodded. “Come back here, first thing tomorrow, and I’ll have one of my acolytes show you how you need to proceed. Instruction isn’t the sort of thing I handle personally.”

Fernan took a deep breath. “Thank you,” he forced out. “And please give Magnifico my thanks as well, for making this possible.”

“Perhaps if I have the time.” He shrugged, starting to walk away. “Oh, make sure not to wear anything too flammable tomorrow. Stick to leather and the like, or preparing the pyre could be difficult. Prisoners have been known to throw things at the acolyte if their bindings come loose.”

“The prisoners can throw fire?”

Lord Lumière didn’t give that a proper response, only muttering under his breath about ignorant villagers.

It was with that sobering conundrum that Fernan left, slowly walking back through the Spirit Quartier, past the strange deserted house and what looked like a number of other smaller temples, though it was difficult to tell.

He was supposed to feel satisfied with this. It was what he’d wanted, right? And a better solution for geckos could be found while he did his work for the Sun Temple. There had to be some way to manage it, right?

Once he passed into the Merchant Quartier, navigating was that much easier, with people and beasts bustling all throughout the streets. The only difficulty was avoiding tripping over the grooves in the center, apparently there to help clear the streets of muck when it rained.

If that was true, he certainly hoped it rained soon. At least most of what he needed to avoid was still warm.

The sun was setting over the water by the time he made it back to the pier. Unlike this morning, the crowds were just as thick here as they were to the south: Merchants, stevedores, vendors for food a drink. One of them looked to be selling some kind of shelled fish, a long line behind the stand.

He was curious, but money was at a premium. Especially now that he needed to find a place to stay. Magnifico had been generous with a spare room at the Singer’s Longue, but that had only been for the one night, and now new accommodations had to be located.

He saw a burst of heat at the foot of the large tower at the very north end of the harbor, slightly elevated on the rocks. That would be Mara, then, and the human-shaped glow ten feet away Florette.

Actually, could familiars move independently? He should have asked Florette before letting Mara go off on her own. This could have been bad if someone had spotted her and caused a commotion.

The two of them seemed to be glaring at each other in silence as Fernan arrived, their heads not even properly facing for eye contact.

Mara perked right up as she saw him though, scurrying up to him with something in her mouth and dropping it as his feet. “Hi, Fernan! I know you said you didn’t want one, but I thought I’d save you some in case you changed your mind. These ones are so much better fed than the ones in the mountains, it’s a much richer flavor”

“Thank you,” he said as sincerely as he could. “But please, it’s all yours.”

“If you insist!”

Florette, still leaning against the rocks, tilted her head in what was unmistakable an eyeroll.

“I thought you could only eat coal though?” Fernan whispered to Mara, bending down so he could be heard at a quieter volume. If supplying them with animals would solve the problem… He mentally kicked himself for not thinking to ask earlier. Somehow the thought hadn’t occurred to him.

Mara shook her head back and forth. “Meat is tasty, too. It’s not very enriching, though. We need coal to grow and big and strong and smart! It’s what fuels our fire. Without that and Gézard we’d be just like babies, only as large as your hand.”

“I see.” Of course that had been too much to hope for. He reached into his travel bag and pulled out the smaller sack of coal they had brought for Mara. “Here, then,” he said as tossed her a piece. “We might need to find a more regular supply though.”

“Why? I thought you just needed to get something, and we’d be gone in a few days? Did you find something interesting to explore, too?”

“Not quite…” He waved Florette closer, causing her to push off the rocks and begin walking closer. “I think I found a way to get what we need, but it’s going to take a little while. I’m going to be working for the Sun Temple.”

“Oh?” Florette put her hand under her chin. “Does Lord Whathisname want you to feed him grapes as he lies down? Perhaps an hourly foot rub? Or is he just happy to have you on hand to kiss his robes whenever the mood strikes?”

Fernan forced a laugh. Any of those would be better than what he’d really been asked to do, if that ominous insinuation were correct. There were other things it could mean, surely. They wouldn’t burn people. “Magnifico said he couldn’t do much, but it would have been nice to walk out of there with it today. I can’t really be sure of anything until I’m holding it in my hand.”

“That’s the smart way to think about it,” Florette agreed. “And I know some pirates now, if you decide you’d rather just cut out all the work in the middle.”

“Right, that.” He sighed. “Did you get them to back off from Magnifico?”

“No. I couldn’t even get them to delay it.” Her flame dimmed harshly. “But I’m not part of it anymore. That’s what you wanted, right?” She practically spat it out.

“It’s better than nothing.” He really felt like he ought to warn Magnifico, after this, but that felt like a betrayal of her trust. There had to be some way to figure it out, but that could wait until the morning. “In the meantime, we really ought to––”

“That’s him!” He turned around to see five of the harbor guards, each brandishing their weapon. The tallest stepped forward, lifting his head high. “By the authority of House Debray, your presence is requested.”

Fernan swallowed.

“Immediately,” the guard continued, firm. “Your little ruse is over.”