Shopping Around

  Chapter 216

  Early morning light was pale but glaring as Elim took a drink out onto the porch of the inn he and Tiller had been staying at with Sellos. The Lutran man had made the questionable decision to split his room with Heather.

  Elim considered it firmly none of his business however. Sipping his cup, he was taking things slow, not on a time table but up early all the same. He opened a call to 42 and wasn’t surprised that she answered quickly. She tended to even when she was busy.

  “Mornin, mistress,” Elim said, hardly containing a yawn until the end.

  “Elim,” 42 acknowledged.

  There was a familiar sound of stone grinding in the background. Not close but definitely her moving things around in the dungeon. He’d never seen it in person but he’d witnessed it once during a video call and been left speechless. It wasn’t a small thing, watching stone and earth move according to someone's whim like that.

  “Do you have a temple visit this morning?” she asked.

  “Yeah, I found a new prospect,” Elim agreed. He’d been scouting the city for a few days and it was hard to figure out what all a temple would have. Some of the fanciest had nothing but pretty art but he’d found a genuine relic in a dusty and half forgotten one in a back alley. Just a little shrine that the city had grown around and ceased taking notice of.

  He wasn’t after religious artifacts though, he was hunting a class change crystal.

  “Hopefully this one isn’t another bust,” Elim murmured around the cup of ale.

  “If it is, that’s fine. I’m not in a hurry,” 42 offered.

  “You rarely are,” Elim chuckled.

  “Ehm, it depends on the subject,” 42 said.

  “How are the daggers doing?” Elim asked. He hadn’t had much to do with them but they worked for 42 so he wasn’t immune to curiosity.

  “No luck finding anything for Quint. They’ve decided to go ahead with the assault on Dr. Satan. Should happen in about a month,” 42 said, not sounding particularly happy.

  “Hope they kill that plague rat,” Elim offered darkly. He wouldn’t mind doing the honors himself but understood why 42 didn’t want him on the mission. There were too many unknowns about the other dungeon at the moment.

  “Me too, I just wish I could equip them better,” 42 agreed.

  “You did better than anyone else could have,” Elim countered, laughing.

  42 just hummed unhappily in reply. She could summon things that seemed like they had to be pure magic, but she was a worrier. Deal or not, she didn’t want the daggers to die facing Dr. Satan if it could be avoided. It made it easy to like her despite how baffling she could be.

  Putting his cup down on the porch rail, he made his way to the temple. Wayfarer was big among merchants and travelers alike - not so much among the village folk he had been raised with, but he knew the name. Decent enough god by all accounts.

  Temple was also not quite the right term, but it's what the sign in front of what looked like a maze of tents and open air market stalls said. The stalls sold charms or had priests offer the more common blessings alongside food and goods from places he’d never heard of.

  Really it felt more like a market during a festival than any kind of temple or even church he’d ever been too. He wasn’t stingy with coin as he made his way around, picking up a little of everything and putting most of it in the inventory after a bite or two. He honestly regretted not bringing Tiller along and made his mind up to have her come later on.

  The only real indication the place was more than it seemed was the fact the priests all wore the same kind of robes and the odd statue of Wayfarer. The god was one of the kind that wasn’t a man or a woman, but sort of anyone and everybody, taking different looks depending on where they appeared. Always a traveler, but the rest varied and wasn’t treated as important in their stories.

  He took a few minutes to rest on a crate in the shade of a tent and just watch traffic pass. A tall older man sat next to him, priests robes under a road stained overcoat. He was weather beaten with a dark complexion like those out of the east sometimes had.

  “Enjoying yourself, young man?” the priest asked with a smile. Elim couldn’t place the accent.

  “Definitely, planning on bringing Tiller later,” Elim said with a grin. He offered the man his flask and the priest took it, drinking gratefully.

  “That is good cider,” the priest said appreciatively. “Havent had it in a while, but it's a favorite."

  “I’m a bit of a connoisseur, got a kind you like in particular?” Elim asked.

  “The light, crisp kind,” the priest explained. He started rummaging around in his bag and produced an apple, offering it to Elim.

  “The best I ever had was made with these. Brought some tree’s back hoping to start an orchard and a cider house. Didn’t work though, the tree’s don’t like it here and the last one gave up after giving me these, so I’m stuck with just a few apples,” the priest explained ruefully. Elim took a bite, it had a crisp snap and a sweet-sour burst. He made a delighted noise without meaning to.

  “That's a damn shame, it's a good apple,” Elim said. The man nodded in solemn agreement.

  “So who’s Tiller? I’m guessing a lady by the way you smiled when you said the name,” the priest asked.

  “She is, and I’m fixing to court her. Just not quite there yet, still working on a token,” Elim replied, unbothered.

  “She know that?” the priest asked with a brow raised.

  “Yes sir, it's not something to be done without her agreeing. She’s being patient about it thankfully. Her folks don't do things the same way,” Elim offered.

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  “Keeper then, woman who puts up with your nonsense,” the priest said, laughing. “Come by when you're ready to be married, we have a very nice ceremony. Good food instead of endless chanting.”

  “I’ll see how she feels about it, but I wouldn’t mind. Been enjoying it all morning,” Elim agreed without promising anything. It wasn’t like they couldn’t get married a couple of times if they felt like it. Most people had at least two ceremonies, one for the local god and one for whatever one they personally held in regard.

  “I noticed, got the impression you were looking for something. Let me know what and I’ll see if I can help you find it, as thanks for the cider,” the priest offered.

  “Well, I’d like to see a class change crystal, but I’m not sore about y’all not having one. The visit’s been fun,” Elim replied.

  “Class change? Only ones I know of that have one in this city are the order of Tiamon. They defended an old church of the sun and were given the building, found the relic a couple years later in a basement but can't make it work, if you can believe that,” the priest said, shaking his head.

  “They were allowed to keep it? I’d think someone from the temple of the sun would come see about it or maybe another church,” Elim said, intrigued.

  “They did, said it's either fake or broken, and either way not worth the trouble of moving,” the priest said with a shrug.

  “Well, I suppose that's why I didn’t hear anything about it,” Elim offered. Pretending to reach into his satchel he pulled out a small jug of cider. It wasn’t going to be the same as the one the priest longed for, but similar in the light and crisp aspect. He also took out a smaller one that had a smoky hint of bacon.

  “Your advice was worth more than a sip from a flask,” Elim said as he offered the small jugs. The priest didn’t refuse, taking both with a smile. He stowed them then stood up, putting a hand on Elim’s shoulder.

  “May you always find your path and doors always open to welcome you on your journeys,” the priest offered then left with a nod.

  Elim watched the man vanish into the flow of the market-street temple, then rose and started wandering again. The Order of Tiamon wasn’t on his original list, but finding out they had a “broken” class change crystal was too good to pass up.

  Elim headed back into the city proper and soon enough got directions that carried to him what had once been a temple to the sun. It had probably been run down when the Order of Timon got it, but it looked like they hadn’t had money to fix it up since.

  Not exactly unexpected since the order didn’t generally get much in terms of support because of the nature of their oath. Wealthier lords usually favored those willing to swear more exclusive loyalty.

  Seeing the order’s signal on a modest banner brought up thoughts of Ackley. Elim hadn’t heard from the man since he’d left the Silvertree ancestral estate. He might not ever again depending on how things went once the audit he’d triggered finished. He didn’t exactly feel bad about that but did wonder how the man was getting on. Him serving the grandfather who cast Elim's mother out hadn’t been endearing, though he understood that an apprentice wouldn’t have had the option to leave easily.

  Once upon a time the temple to the sun he was approaching would have been rather larger and fancy. There were hints of weather worn gilding in the decorations and the architecture wasn’t plain. Heading in the open front door, he found a tidy single vaulted room with a massive back wall made of glass. It was facing the sunrise and would have given an impressive view.

  Now it was broken in places and boarded up.

  “Pardon, do you have business with the order?” a man called out. He looked startled and only half way into his armor. Several young men were behind him, dressed for sparring.

  “I’d like a tour, if someone has the time. I know it's not kept by the church anymore, but I was considering donating to help restore it a bit,” Elim offered. “Suppourt the order too, a little.”

  The man’s expression shifted from wary to cautiously pleased. “We do not get many who come for that reason. Captains in the yard, but I can walk you around a little until he’s free.”

  “That would be fine,” Elim said with an easy smile.

  “I’m Tavin,” the man offered along with his hand.

  “Elim,” Elim offered as he took it to shake. A knight not offering a surname meant he didn’t have one, which was curious. Elim technically did, but wasn't in the habit of using it.

  Tavin led him through the main hall, pointing out what remained of the temple’s original decoration and what the Order had added since taking it over. His voice was matter-of-fact, without much effort to dress things up.

  He was a little more animated about the Order’s history in the city and how they’d been gifted the building after defending it during the riots ten years ago. Elim listened with the same patient curiosity he’d used all morning, letting the other man fill the silence. With only one remaining priest at the time of hand off, things had likely already been close to the shabby state he was presently seeing.

  They came out into a broad yard where a group of children and young teens were running sparring drills under the eyes of an older man in a battered cuirass. Some had the look of half-trained squires, others were wiry and barefoot, moving with the wariness of street urchins unused to open spaces.

  Elim’s gaze lingered on them a moment longer than intended. The Captain, who had been watching the drills from the side, noticed and came over.

  “Whose this?” he asked, wary but not sharp.

  “Elim, he’s considering making a donation,” Tavin explained.

  “Well, I’ll thank you for it if you do.

  “Elim, this is Captain Curtis,” Tavin said with the dull acceptance of the long suffering.

  “As you can see, we’ve taken in local children for training,” Curtis continued as if Tavin hadn’t spoken. His voice was steady, carrying the weight of a man used to explaining himself. “Some have families still, others don't. We take them in regardless. Food, a bed, and training to give them better prospects than they’d have out there.”

  Elim gave a small nod. “They taking to it?”

  “They will,” the Captain said. “A good sword arm will get you further than an empty stomach.” He glanced toward Tavin. He gestured for Elim to follow, leading him back inside.

  “Captain doesn’t mean anything by it, we've just had people object to training non-nobles,” Tavin said, sighing.

  “Don’t bother me any,” Elim said with a shrug.

  Rather than try and convince the other man he was sincere Elim handed over a bag of coin. The weight of it clearly startled Taving even before he opened it and found gold.

  “I’d still like the tour though,” Elim added.

  “Yes sir,” Tavin said, giddy as he closed the bag quickly. Like someone might try and take it back.

  His explanations got more lively immediately and he led Elim through essentially every part of the place but the privy. The reliquary chamber was a cool, dim chamber lined with empty plinths. Only one still held anything: a large, many-faceted crystal locked in a plain iron frame.

  “Found it in the cellar when we moved in. Priests from the Temple of the Sun called it broken and left it here. We kept it because…” He shrugged. “It seemed wrong to throw it out.”

  Elim stepped closer, hands clasped loosely behind his back like any respectful visitor. “Still… impressive to look at.”

  “It’s heavy too. We thought about moving it to the front hall once, but we would have needed half the order to carry it.”

  Tavin turned his back, looking for something to talk about despite the room's empty state. Elim’s hand drifted forward. His fingertips brushed the crystal’s surface, and in the space of a blink it was gone into his inventory and back again, copied perfectly without a flicker. The runes stayed dull.

  He drew his hand back just as the knight turned back to him. “Shame it doesn’t work,” Elim said mildly.

  “Right? We wouldn't want for coin if we could change peoples' classes. The kids would have an easier time of things too,” Tavin said wistfully.

  They left the reliquary and finished the tour in the yard again, the sound of sparring carrying on the air. Tavin was still beaming over the gold, already muttering about repairs they could finally see to.

  Elim made a few more polite noises, shook the now much more congenial Captain’s hand, and took his leave without hurry. Out on the street, he cut back toward the busier part of the city, blending easily into the flow of carts and foot traffic. His expression was cheerful as he considered what exactly he was going to do next.

  With a crystal found 42 definitely wouldn’t mind him coming back to the valley for a bit. Even his mother wouldn’t be able to say he hadn’t earned a little break despite the debt he still owed.

  First though, the kids in the temple needed clothes and equipment. He wasn’t going to leave for a few days, not until he was sure they were looked after better.