(40) My Goals Are My Own
Nephthys sat cross-legged in the air, her eyes closed, yet a white glow was visible beneath her lids. She floated above a raised dais at the head of her new audience hall. The vaulted ceilings of gray stone glittered with a myriad colors, like the starfield shining through the glassless windows.
The crunch from the very last stones settling into place filled the air briefly, followed by a heavy silence.
“Well, can’t say much ‘bout stone, but that’d hold just fine if it was wood,” Callistratus said, nodding with approval.
“Thank you, Call. I like to build, but I am no engineer. Your expertise has been invaluable. It was fun building together again,” Nephthys replied, opening her eyes with a smile.
“Aye. I’m lookin’ forward to future projects now that we’re opened back up,” he said, waving one of his dozen arms—or were they technically legs?—as he exited through the glowing doorway.
Though she had summoned him, Nephthys was unsure what exactly Callistratus was. He appeared as some cross between a caterpillar and a beaver, though the beaver part only manifested in his huge, buck teeth. He was a caterpillar that could chomp through an entire tree in a single bite, and his dozen-or-so hands made quick work of his craft: carpentry.
Nephthys was proud that it had taken her only a few days to stop being disturbed by him. Seeing him in the flesh was much different than in Prelude. He was a stand-up guy beneath that chitinous exterior, though.
“We’ll be taking our leave, too, my lady,” Eirene declared, bowing slightly.
“Was fun. Stone’s as strong as it can be. Come find us if you want it to blow up, too,” Nestor said.
“Thank you both for your help. I will certainly ask for your assistance again, I am sure,” Nephthys replied, watching them leave.
Eirene was Nemesis’ artificer, a skilled enchanter who could do far more than carve lines in materials. She was a gnome who wore a red cloak that covered her entire body, only her pinched face visible beneath the hood. Though of diminutive stature, her creations often dwarfed even giants.
Nestor was the alchemist, and strangely, he was a merfolk. Nephthys had not really understood how a species that dwelt far beneath the waves of wherever their homeworld was could be skilled in alchemy. Was alchemy even possible underwater?
As silence fell on the hall, Nephthys surveyed it with satisfaction. The vaulted ceiling shot a hundred feet into the air, great rafters of arched stone supporting it. Huge cathedral windows adorned the walls, and though they lacked the stained glass of cathedrals in her home world, the light shining through was no less colorful.
Smooth stone slabs cut in a hexagonal pattern made up the floor, and a walkway of elaborate geometric carvings led to the dais she floated upon, itself a pyramid of steps that tapered to the hexagonal pillar on which she levitated.
With a flex of her will, the ceiling split apart into a storm of debris that revealed the cold light from the moon. It hung in the sky far closer than it should, dominating the view, yet Nephthys felt that it was at home, as if it had always belonged there.
The beautiful void of space, with its infinite stars and glowing nebulae, completed the vista, lending the hall an otherworldly atmosphere.
With a thought, the roof reformed. Though it was impressive, knowing it hid such wonder made it seem like a curtain waiting to rise, obscuring the real show.
The hall arched into a triangle in the middle before splitting into halls of perpendicular arches that extruded from the central one. It was empty, just a shell of glittering stone. Considering this was all an experiment, Nephthys was pleased with it for now, but it would certainly need touching up.
Returning to the ground, Nephthys descended the dais, basking in the glow of the moon. She could feel it through the roof, could feel it everywhere, suffusing this space. It was strange how this small void pocket had started out as her inventory, yet was becoming an extension of herself.
The golden gate closed behind her, and Tara stirred from her position in bed, still leaning over and resting on Aka.
“What was that?” she asked groggily, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
“Just an experiment, for now,” Nephthys replied, walking over to the bed and patting Tara’s head. “Come, we are needed at the guild.”
“We are? Why? By who?” Tara replied quickly, jumping out of bed, much to Aka’s chagrin.
“We—” Nephthys started, stopping to wrinkle her nose as Tara stood beside her.“Take a deep breath in and hold it,” Nephthys instructed.
Tara seemed poised to question the instruction, but instead, she shrugged and inhaled, puffing her chest out as she held the big breath.
A whirlpool suddenly surrounded her, spinning in a vortex that tugged at her clothes and spun her hair about. It vanished just as suddenly as it arrived, only to be replaced by a tornado of heat. Tara blinked, eventually closing her eyes, lest the heat dry them out.
After less than a minute, the sudden storms ceased, and Tara stood clean and dry, though her hair was puffed like a hedge.
“Could’ve given a better warning,” she grumbled, running her hands through her hair.
“Yes-yes. Come along, now. Timing is important today,” Nephthys said, all but dragging Tara.
“It is? Why—” Tara started, transitioning to a yelp as Nephthys wrapped an arm around her shoulder and ferried her.
Nephthys did not answer, only shepherding her down the stairs and out the inn’s front door. They made their way across the square, Nephthys enjoying the brief moment in the rising sun.
Entering the guild, Nephthys marched straight up to a specific desk, bypassing the lines entirely.
“—really am sorry, but the guild cannot authorize an investigation of these claims without approval from the liege lord. What you claim goes well beyond our purview. If what you describe is accurate, this could be considered an attack on a lord’s land,” a receptionist was saying.
A familiar farming couple stood before the counter, both wringing their hands.
“But, it could take days—weeks, even—to get word to the baron. All traces’d be gone by then, surely!” the man pleaded.
“I understand your frustration, and I truly am sorry. However, the guild cannot bypass noble authority. On top of this, there is the issue of payment. If authorized by your liege lord, the job would likely be financed by him as well, or subsidized, at least.
“Without that financing, you would have to put up a fitting reward for the job on your own, which, unless I am mistaken…” the receptionist trailed off.
“We can’t afford it. We lost everything. We have only the clothes on our backs,” the woman said, each clutching the other.
“That being the case, the best I can offer is to dispatch a message to your lord, unfortunately,” the receptionist explained.
“I see…thank you for your time,” the man said.
He and his wife turned and exited the line, only to stop short just a few feet away, Nephthys barring their path.
“You need assistance investigating a fire, yes? Your home and barn burned, your animals slaughtered?” she said, startling the couple even further.
“How did you—” the woman started.
“I will investigate. Lead the way,” Nephthys interrupted.
The receptionist, previously assisting the farming couple, leaned her head around the desk, looking toward the group.
“Pardon me, ma’am, but they have not been approved for job submission,” she said.
“...and?” Nephthys asked, staring at the receptionist, her notoriously neutral visage likely underselling her annoyance at the interruption.
“...and, they have no job sanctioned by the guild,” the receptionist explained.
“I am aware. This is not guild business, so it is none of your business, yes?” Nephthys replied.
“I…suppose so. Just be warned that guild commissions come with guaranteed payouts. Jobs taken without the guild’s mediation have no such guarantees,” the receptionist explained with a sigh, returning to her work.
Nephthys motioned for the couple to follow her, leading them out to an alley a couple of buildings over from the guild.
“Excuse me, ma’am. My husband and I are grateful for the help, but who are you, exactly?” the wife asked, likely becoming suspicious of being led into dark alleys.
Wise.
“My name is Nephthys. I am a—ah, yes, here we are—tier four adventurer,” she said, turning around and presenting the associated badge.
It was a circle of silver, with a gold number “4” in the middle. The design was simple, but its make was impressive. Nephthys was no expert on such matters, but she would be surprised if the silver was not mixed with some sort of exotic metal from the way it glittered when the sun caught it just right.
“And this is my apprentice, Tara,” she said, motioning toward Tara, who gave a little wave.
She seemed slightly more confident than she did with the innkeeper, which Nephthys thought was a good sign, even if she was still mostly hidden behind Nephthys.
“A tier…why are you helping us? We have nothing. We can’t pay you, not unless you really like Martha’s shirt,” the husband said, earning him an elbow from his wife.
“Your situation intersects with a matter I am already pursuing. My goals are my own, and I do not plan on explaining them. However, know that I do not want anything from you, beyond your cooperation,” Nephthys said, starting forward.
Hopefully, they understood that she would brook no argument.