The man, Alistair, wore iridescent leather armor with a knife at his belt. His eyes were so blue Tibs had trouble looking away, wondering if they would start glowing. His face was long, thin, but healthy. His gray hair was held with a ribbon that matched his eyes in color, but not intensity.
“You summoned me in the middle of work.” His voice was deep and surprised Tibs by how calm and soothing it was. “I couldn’t simply leave and reveal I was present. Discretion takes time, but I am here now, as you requested.”
“This is Tibs,” Tirania indicated him, “Our newest potential water Rogue.”
Alistair looked at Tibs as if he just now realized he was there. “Is this a joke?” he asked, frowning.
“Do you recall the last time I joked?”
His face grew somber, jaw tightening. He looked Tibs over again, taking his time. “He’s only a child,” he finally said. “It’s too early for him to get an element; it’s going to kill him.”
“He’s old enough to have been in a cell when the recruitment started.”
The man waved that aside. “You know very well some kingdom will put babes in prisons with their mother just because she had the misfortune of catching the wrong noble’s fancy.”
“He survived the dungeon long enough to sit before me,” She replied, fixing the man with her color-shifting eyes.
“Where are you from b—Tibs?” He asked like the answer would settle the point.
“The streets,” Tibs answered.
“I mean which kingdom.” Alistair’s tone took on a hint of annoyance.
“Alistair,” Tirania said with an amused shake of the head, “maybe you didn’t have the misfortune of growing up on the Street, but for those of us who did, the world doesn’t extend past the blocks we could know well enough to hide from the city guards and other dwellers of the street. He won’t know the name of the city he lived in, let alone the kingdom.”
When Alistair looked at him again, Tibs shrugged. “Then do you know where he’s from?” he asked Tirania.
“You know how it goes when a new dungeon opens,” She replied with a sigh. “Every kingdom sends us as many people as they can manage in the hopes we’ll view them favorably once it’s time to assign slots for their nobility after the dungeon graduates. Someone at the main guild probably has the record of where everyone’s from, but I doubt they bother with names.”
Alistair didn’t reply and silence fell over the room. Tibs fidgeted and wondered if he could leave while they resolved whatever this was about.
Alistair turned and headed for the door. “No. I won’t be part of what is effectively murder.”
“Alistair,” she said as his hand reached for the handle. Her voice was hard and cold. “Do you need to be reminded of your duties, again?”
The man turned slowly and Tibs caught him rubbing his left wrist over the sleeve. He stopped it, looking at Tibs, who hurried to face Tirania again.
“I know my duties, Tirania,” He replied, “but I am a thief, not an assassin. Get Georard for this. He isn’t going to care what happens to Tibs.”
“Georard is working for the central guild at the moment, not me. And Tibs doesn’t need an assassin at this stage, he’s still simply a thief, and that is your department.” She raised a hand to silence him. “Before you protest, he passed the first test. He is Upsilon, so he has what is required to gain an audience, despite what you believe.”
Alistair returned to stand beside Tibs. He placed a hand on the back of the chair and looked down at him. “Tell her no. Say you aren’t ready. I don’t care what that crystal of hers says. You don’t have to do this, not right now. Wait a few years.”
Tibs studied the man’s face, looking for deception, but he was earnest. Whatever this was about, he believed Tibs would be in danger if he did this, so he considered his situation, and quickly realized he didn’t have enough information.
“What happens if I wait?” he asked Tirania, and Alistair sighed in relief.
She nodded and smiled in satisfaction. “You go back to the dungeon, just as you will once you have your element.”
“Tirania,” Alistair began in exasperation, but a raised hand from her silenced him again. She didn’t look away from Tibs.
“So, nothing changes,” Tibs said tentatively, knowing he was wrong before her expression shifted, and he turned everything she’d said since he arrived over in his head. Things would be different, but what, and how did it matter? What mattered to him? Mama, the men who’d hurt her. Which meant he needed to leave here, eventually.
“Can I reach Epsilon without an element?”
She smiled in satisfaction again, before looking up to Alistair. “Well?”
“No,” The man answered reluctantly. “The element is the main component of how we test you for graduating to other ranks. But you don’t need to do this now,” he hurried to add. “Just wait a year, your odds of surviving the audience will be much higher.”
That was good information to have. As with most things in his life, older people had better odds of surviving. “But the dungeon is going to get harder, right?” what had the archer said? The dungeon didn’t make changes to make things easier on them. The dungeon needed to feed, and they needed to die for that, so as they got better it got harder.
He looked from one to the other for confirmation and got it from Alistair, in the way he tensed, in the way he looked to Tiranis for support.
“So the only way I can survive,” Tibs continued, more to himself, since she’d wanted him to work this out, “is by getting stronger too.”
“You don’t need an element to be stronger,” Alistair said.
Tibs glared at him. “I know you’re lying. Everyone around me dies in the dungeon because we’re not strong enough. I have to be stronger to make sure that stops happening.”
“I believe you have your answer, Alistair.” Tirania’s expression was the smugness of a con woman who’d gotten a mark to hand over their wealth without having to tell them to. Tibs thought he should feel bad about playing a part in that, but he and her wanted the same thing, if not for the same reasons.
Alistair looked at Tibs, his eyes sad. They hardened as he shifted his gaze to her. “Fine, I will do this, since I’m not given a choice, but I will be back Tirania. This conversation isn’t over.”
“I cannot wait to hear what you have to say, Alistair,” she replied, smiling. “Oh, and while you’re at it, Tibs is interested in finding out about the levels we use to grade guild members, fill him in on the way to the audience.”
The glaring continued for a few seconds, then Alistair turned. “Come Tibs, we have a ways to walk.”
Tibs exited with Alistair, and the few people in the building gave them a wide berth. Tibs counted his steps as they walked through the building, and decided he’d made a mistake somewhere, because he ended up with something larger than what he knew the outside to be.
Outside the building, they headed for the center of the town and people moved out of their ways, sometimes without even looking at them. Was Alistair doing something? Was it some power of his element? Or was it simply the man’s anger at being cornered into doing this that the people around them felt?
Their destination came in view when Alistair finally spoke, his voice calm. “You really don’t know about levels?”
“Someone mentioned Delta, and Tirania said that once I became Epsilon I’d be free.”
“Is that what she said?” he asked, looking at him suspiciously, then away, and his tone became annoyed. “Of course she did. She told me the same thing.” He stopped rubbing his left wrist and Tibs looked ahead as he felt the man’s glare.
“There are ten levels, from the weakest to strongest they are Omega, Upsilon, Rho, Lamba, Zeta, Epsilon, Delta, Gamma, Beta, and finally Alpha.”
Tibs had a long way to go before reaching Epsilon. “Is Tirania Alpha?”
Alistair snorted. “No. She’s Beta, only Gamma and above can be in charge of a guild.”
“So her leader is Alpha?”
Alistair shook his head. “There hasn’t been an Alpha level adventurer for more than a thousand years. Do you need me to repeat the levels?”
“Alpha, Beta, Gamma, Delta, Epsilon, Zeta, Lamba, Rho, Upsilon, and Omega. I have it.”
Alistair smiled at him. “Good.”
They reached the transport platform, and Alistair bypassed the line of merchants, or other travelers, to step on it. The only kind of people Tibs didn’t see in the line were runners. Those he did see, stood at the periphery, more than one with a calculating look on their face.
Tibs had stood where they did a few times, trying to come up with a way to escape, but as far as he could figure out, the men or women wearing the golden robe, like the one who joined them as Alistair stepped in front of the person waiting, were required to make it work. Even when they weren’t the ones making the gestures before they vanished.
This time Alistair was the one who gestured and they weren’t in the town anymore. Tibs readied himself for the wave of nausea he felt the first time he’d been through this kind of transport; when he’d been sent to the dungeon town, but he felt fine.
The first thing he noticed was the humidity, it was thick and pressing in on him. The cave was illuminated with crystals around the platform, and lining a large hallway. In the distance Tibs heard falling water, the kind that reminded him of the worst storm he’d been in; when the house he’d taken refuge in had shaken with the thunder and the rain fell so hard it pushed through any cracks.
“Come,” Alistair instructed as he stepped off the platform. Tibs got over his surprise and caught up to him as he entered the hallway. “If you are going to have any chance of surviving this,” the man said, “remember to treat Water with respect. He’s a force of nature, not a mark for you to steal from. You have to impress him with your willingness to work for him.”
Tibs stopped. “Am I going to be his slave?” He’d spent his life staying out of the grasp of the people like that on the street.
“Of course not,” Alistair answered, not stopping. “It’s a symbiosis, if you understand what the word means.”
Tibs ran to catch up. “I don’t.”
“A partnership, then. You know that one?”
Tibs nodded.
“If you survive, water will give you some of himself to control, to obey your will, but in return, part of your will is going to bend to him. Your interaction with him will change how you think in a way that serves him. It isn’t anything big. Even knowing this, you won’t notice it until you look back on your life and see all the little ways in which your behavior echoed that of water.”
Tibs wonder if he’d made the right choice now that he knew this. Tirania said water was about protection, and he wanted that, but did it mean he wouldn’t want his revenge after this? Maybe fire would have been a better choice? Fire burned everything, so it had to be okay with revenge.
The sound of falling water grew louder as the humidity drew thicker. They passed doors made of what looked like crystal until they reached an open doorway which the man entered. More open doorways lined the hall and in the distance, Tibs made out rolling fog where the sound came from, but it didn’t spread into the hall.
“Tibs,” Alistair called, and he entered the room. Water flowed up to fill the doorway, then turned to clear ice. He felt the cold emanating from it.
“Did you do that?”
Alistair shook his head and motioned to the center of the room. “This is Water’s domain, he governs what happens here. We are all at his mercy.” Tibs stood where indicated. “You must kneel.”
Tibs did as instructed and Alistair crouched next to him, a hand on his shoulder. “Are you certain you want to do this, Tibs? The danger is real.”
“Isn’t it too late to turn back?”
“I don’t think so.” The man hesitated. “I’m on good terms with water, I’ve acted in his favor for years. If I speak to him on your behalf, I’m sure he would give you a reprieve and let us go.”
He could change his mind. Pick fire and be sure of his revenge. “What will Tirania say?”
Alistair chuckled. “Don’t worry about her. I can handle her tantrum.” But Tibs saw how the man’s hand twitched toward the left one on his shoulder. Alistair noticed him watching. “It’s nothing more than a nervous tic, the memory of when I was younger; not as smart about who’s instructions I followed and how.”
“So the mark isn’t forever?”
“You serve your time, then it’s removed. Hopefully, you’ve learned your lesson by then.”
Tibs was strangely comforted by the idea Bardik would regain his freedom, eventually. “Did you?”
Alistair chuckled. “I wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t. The guild’s patience isn’t limitless. Now, shall we leave?”
Tibs shook his head, realizing that Alistair was the reason. He liked the man. He could see the sternness in his eyes, but he was also kind and caring. He was willing to risk angering his leader to keep Tibs safe a little longer. Tibs wondered where he’d be now if he’d met someone like Alistair before. The thought was more melancholy than anything else. The past couldn’t be changed. All he could do was move forward, and he decided that he would do his best to do so with Alistair at his side.
“So be it,” Alistair said, resigned. “Remember Tibs, there are things far greater than us in the world, and you are about to meet one of them. Know your place, your life depends on it.”
Alistair stood, removing his hand.
Water filled his mouth. Tibs had no idea where it came from, hadn’t it been air around him moments before, wasn’t it still? He tried to cough the water out, but it only served to let more in. He turned to Alistair, reached for the man, but his expression was impartial. He didn’t move. Had it all been a trick? He’d seemed so kind.
No, he refused to believe the man had tricked him. He’d warned him there would be danger, he just had to think this through. He closed his mouth to keep more water from entering, but he still needed to breathe, wanted to breathe. He pinched his nose close to block the reflex.
Was this part of the audience? It had to be. The thought didn’t calm Tibs. What kind of element was Water that it treated him this way? Was a partnership built on putting one side in this kind of pain and danger?
He needed air, he should have picked air, at least he wouldn’t be drowning. Stars appeared in his vision. He was dying, he realized. He’d put his trust in someone, something, and had been wrong.
Trust.
Partnerships were built on that, weren’t they? Was that it? How could he show his trust here?
He closed his eyes as he moved his hands to his side. He was already falling forward. It would happen regardless. He might as well make it his decision, his show of trust. He took a deep breath of water and found himself spinning head over heel.
“Hello, thing of humans,” a voice said, coming from all around him. “Oh my, you are a small one.”
Tibs opened his eyes to find the speaker. The voice was that of a woman, gentle and comforting. Reflexively he tried to stop his tumble, to grab onto anything, but there was nothing, no floor, no wall, no Alistair, just water. Where was the room? The light seemed to come from the water itself, an even blue-green glow.
“And who are you, small one?” the voice, the woman, asked, and Tibs thought he could make out forms moving around him.
He opened his mouth to answer and immediately covered it with his hands before it filled with water.
Giggles filled the surrounding water, gentle, instead of mocking. “Oh, it is too late for that. I am all there is here.”
Tibs took a tentative breath. He felt the water move in and out with the motion, but he didn’t choke on it.
“You all do this,” she said, “even knowing what I am, you expect me to be something else.”
“Who are you?” he asked. His voice sounded different, deeper.
“I am Water, of course, and who are you?”
“I’m Tibs.” He slowed his tumble with a waving of his hands and felt better, with the lack of anything to see, he could convince himself he was still.
A form stilled before him. She reminded Tibs of a woman wrapped in shifting blue-green fabric. He was surprised. From listening to Alistair, he’d expected a man.
The form, the woman, studied him. At least he thought so, he couldn’t make out details, but she seemed to be looking at him. “Tell me, Tibs of the humans, why are you here?”
Tibs opened his mouth to explain about protecting people, but the world shifted around him.
* * * * *
“Mama!” He crouched on a floor in a dingy room. The woman lying on the pallet before him coughed and flecks of blood appeared on her lips, but she forced a smile.
“It’s alright,” she said, her voice raw. “Mama will be alright.”
She wasn’t, wouldn’t be. Even as young as he was, he knew that. She hadn’t been alright for a time now. When had she stood last? When had she walked out of this box they lived in to get him some moldy bread or a wrinkly apple? Mama wasn’t alright, and Tibs was scared.
* * * * *
“I am sorry,” the voice soothed him.
He uncurled. Hoped the water hid his tears. How he missed Mama.
“It is the way of your kind to come to an end,” she said, the soothing tone doing nothing to soothe Tibs’s pain. “What would you want of me?”
Tibs calmed himself, readied himself again to talk of protection, but his voice caught as his mouth turned into a snarl. What good would protection do Mama? Making sure others didn’t die was all fine and good, but what about her? What about Mama?
Something flickered within the form.
He forced his anger down. Water was about protection. She wouldn’t approve of his anger, would she? Alistair had warned to know his place, and here he had to be about protecting others. He gritted his teeth as the thing flickered again. Maybe he could lie to her, to Water; but lie to himself? Did he even want a partnership with Water? He’d considered fire when given an option, but that was past now.
“Tibs?” she called, and he wrenched his eyes away from the flicker. What had that even been? He felt calmer now. “What do you want?”
His eyes flicked back to the flicker before he could stop himself. Was it a show of disrespect that he looked at that instead of her? What was it? There was no blue or green about it, so what color could it be? Was it even a color?
“No, Tibs. You don’t want this.” She sounded sad.
She knew it was there? “What is it?”
She hesitated. “It is something complicated.”
“I don’t understand.”
She smiled at him. “It’s alright.” She was right, with her it would be alright, if not now, in time. “What do you want of me?”
Again his eyes moved to the flicker.
* * * * *
He ran out of the box he and Mama called home, yelling for help; being ignored. He saw the uniforms, city guards, Mama said to stay away, but Tibs had seen some of them help, in the market; a well dressed older woman. Mama had taken him, before she was sick. He went to them, begged for them to help Mama.
Laughing, they followed him. He tried to tell them this was no game, but they kept laughing.
One entered the box, called to the others until there was only one left with him, who kept him out of the box. Mama screamed, men laughed inside, the one with him held him, prevented him from going to Mama’s rescue. It lasted a long time, then she fell silent, afterwards so did the men. They left and Tibs ran in. Mama was still, exposed. He covered her, believing — needing to believe — she was sleeping. He curled up against her, forcing himself to ignore the wrongness of how still she was. He stayed with her as realization grew in time with the cold of her body. He felt something he’d never felt before, a new and powerful emotion.
* * * * *
Tibs hated.
He hated the men who had hurt Mama, the sickness that had made her weak, himself for not protecting her better; for bringing the men to her. For the Street that had been their only world; where he had to learn to steal, to survive, hide, and stay ahead of those who wanted the little he had.
He wanted them all to pay, to destroy them— the thought dissolved under a cool touch.
“It is also in the nature of your kind to be in, and cause, pain. But it isn’t in my nature to run hot. I am sorry, Tibs, this is not something I can offer.” His eyes went to the flicker, sometimes a myriad of colors, sometimes not. “Maybe,” she said, and Tibs looked up at her. “It’s possible that it can give you what you want, but it will not be an easy path.” Her touch cooled him, soothed the pain. “I can take it away, with me you can move on, do something better for others.”
“But that can make them pay?” He hated himself for the harshness of his voice. She didn’t deserve that, she wanted to help him. He should accept her help, let her take his pain away, but what of Mama then?
“If you are strong enough. Know that if you chose it over me, there will be no certainty. It is a complicated path that will barely reward you until you have done enough. You will not be able to depend on it, and in the end, it may demand far more of you than you can give.”
“But with it, there’s a chance I can avenge Mama?”
Her nod felt sad. “It can certainly run hot enough for that.”
Tibs forced himself to calm down, something he thought her presence helped with. What would he sacrifice, was willing to sacrifice?
“If I chose that over you, you say I’ll get little, but what will I get?”
“You will get a little of me, I am connected to it, after all, if not, you wouldn’t see it. But it will be so little that it is best if you choose me. I can promise you a long and fulfilling life.”
A long life would give him time. Time to come up with another way to achieve his revenge, maybe. Only if she didn’t change him so much he wouldn’t want it anymore. Could he abandon Mama like that?
He made his choice and reached through her for the flicker. It jumped to his hand and colors and not colors appeared over it before soaking into him. “I’m sorry,” he told her, and was surprised to find he meant it. She’d been kind to him.
“It’s alright,” she answered, her cool voice soothing the worry away. “Maybe it is time, and maybe you can do better than your predecessor. But that will only matter if you can get the others to be part of this.”
“Others?”
“Of course, did you think I was the only one of us who is part of it? I did warn you this would be complicated. You will need to gain Fire, Earth and Air’s approval to start with, show to them you are the right one to carry this element, this burden.”
Burden?
“How do I do that?” he asked, wondering what he’d gotten himself into.
“Request an audience of them, Be honest with who you are, and it is possible they will agree.”
“And if they don’t?” Tibs wasn’t sure he’d done the right thing anymore.
Her touch wasn’t enough to soothe the worry and fear away this time. “This path will give very little, unless you get it all. Your life would have been easier had you chosen me, Tibs of humans, May this thing you call luck be with you on your journey.”
* * * * *
Tibs barely had the time to put his hand under him to catch himself as he coughed out water. He tried to force it all out until he felt hands and heard Alistair.
“It’s okay, Don’t fight it. You’re back; the water will leave by itself.”
Finally, Tibs gasped in air. When was the last time he’d breathed?
“How do you feel?” Alistair helped him back into a kneeling position.
“Like I almost drowned.” Speaking hurt.
“It’ll pass.” Alistair crouched before him and smiled. “You survived the audience, that’s the—” The man took Tibs head in his hands and stared in his eyes, surprise and fear in his.
“What’s wrong?” Tibs asked, his voice cracking with fear.
“Your eyes, they’re still brown.”
The man, Alistair, wore iridescent leather armor with a knife at his belt. His eyes were so blue Tibs had trouble looking away, wondering if they would start glowing. His face was long, thin, but healthy. His gray hair was held with a ribbon that matched his eyes in color, but not intensity.
“You summoned me in the middle of work.” His voice was deep and surprised Tibs by how calm and soothing it was. “I couldn’t simply leave and reveal I was present. Discretion takes time, but I am here now, as you requested.”
“This is Tibs,” Tirania indicated him, “Our newest potential water Rogue.”
Alistair looked at Tibs as if he just now realized he was there. “Is this a joke?” he asked, frowning.
“Do you recall the last time I joked?”
His face grew somber, jaw tightening. He looked Tibs over again, taking his time. “He’s only a child,” he finally said. “It’s too early for him to get an element; it’s going to kill him.”
“He’s old enough to have been in a cell when the recruitment started.”
The man waved that aside. “You know very well some kingdom will put babes in prisons with their mother just because she had the misfortune of catching the wrong noble’s fancy.”
“He survived the dungeon long enough to sit before me,” She replied, fixing the man with her color-shifting eyes.
“Where are you from b—Tibs?” He asked like the answer would settle the point.
“The streets,” Tibs answered.
“I mean which kingdom.” Alistair’s tone took on a hint of annoyance.
“Alistair,” Tirania said with an amused shake of the head, “maybe you didn’t have the misfortune of growing up on the Street, but for those of us who did, the world doesn’t extend past the blocks we could know well enough to hide from the city guards and other dwellers of the street. He won’t know the name of the city he lived in, let alone the kingdom.”
When Alistair looked at him again, Tibs shrugged. “Then do you know where he’s from?” he asked Tirania.
“You know how it goes when a new dungeon opens,” She replied with a sigh. “Every kingdom sends us as many people as they can manage in the hopes we’ll view them favorably once it’s time to assign slots for their nobility after the dungeon graduates. Someone at the main guild probably has the record of where everyone’s from, but I doubt they bother with names.”
Alistair didn’t reply and silence fell over the room. Tibs fidgeted and wondered if he could leave while they resolved whatever this was about.
Alistair turned and headed for the door. “No. I won’t be part of what is effectively murder.”
“Alistair,” she said as his hand reached for the handle. Her voice was hard and cold. “Do you need to be reminded of your duties, again?”
The man turned slowly and Tibs caught him rubbing his left wrist over the sleeve. He stopped it, looking at Tibs, who hurried to face Tirania again.
“I know my duties, Tirania,” He replied, “but I am a thief, not an assassin. Get Georard for this. He isn’t going to care what happens to Tibs.”
“Georard is working for the central guild at the moment, not me. And Tibs doesn’t need an assassin at this stage, he’s still simply a thief, and that is your department.” She raised a hand to silence him. “Before you protest, he passed the first test. He is Upsilon, so he has what is required to gain an audience, despite what you believe.”
Alistair returned to stand beside Tibs. He placed a hand on the back of the chair and looked down at him. “Tell her no. Say you aren’t ready. I don’t care what that crystal of hers says. You don’t have to do this, not right now. Wait a few years.”
Tibs studied the man’s face, looking for deception, but he was earnest. Whatever this was about, he believed Tibs would be in danger if he did this, so he considered his situation, and quickly realized he didn’t have enough information.
“What happens if I wait?” he asked Tirania, and Alistair sighed in relief.
She nodded and smiled in satisfaction. “You go back to the dungeon, just as you will once you have your element.”
“Tirania,” Alistair began in exasperation, but a raised hand from her silenced him again. She didn’t look away from Tibs.
“So, nothing changes,” Tibs said tentatively, knowing he was wrong before her expression shifted, and he turned everything she’d said since he arrived over in his head. Things would be different, but what, and how did it matter? What mattered to him? Mama, the men who’d hurt her. Which meant he needed to leave here, eventually.
“Can I reach Epsilon without an element?”
She smiled in satisfaction again, before looking up to Alistair. “Well?”
“No,” The man answered reluctantly. “The element is the main component of how we test you for graduating to other ranks. But you don’t need to do this now,” he hurried to add. “Just wait a year, your odds of surviving the audience will be much higher.”
That was good information to have. As with most things in his life, older people had better odds of surviving. “But the dungeon is going to get harder, right?” what had the archer said? The dungeon didn’t make changes to make things easier on them. The dungeon needed to feed, and they needed to die for that, so as they got better it got harder.
He looked from one to the other for confirmation and got it from Alistair, in the way he tensed, in the way he looked to Tiranis for support.
“So the only way I can survive,” Tibs continued, more to himself, since she’d wanted him to work this out, “is by getting stronger too.”
“You don’t need an element to be stronger,” Alistair said.
Tibs glared at him. “I know you’re lying. Everyone around me dies in the dungeon because we’re not strong enough. I have to be stronger to make sure that stops happening.”
“I believe you have your answer, Alistair.” Tirania’s expression was the smugness of a con woman who’d gotten a mark to hand over their wealth without having to tell them to. Tibs thought he should feel bad about playing a part in that, but he and her wanted the same thing, if not for the same reasons.
Alistair looked at Tibs, his eyes sad. They hardened as he shifted his gaze to her. “Fine, I will do this, since I’m not given a choice, but I will be back Tirania. This conversation isn’t over.”
“I cannot wait to hear what you have to say, Alistair,” she replied, smiling. “Oh, and while you’re at it, Tibs is interested in finding out about the levels we use to grade guild members, fill him in on the way to the audience.”
The glaring continued for a few seconds, then Alistair turned. “Come Tibs, we have a ways to walk.”
Tibs exited with Alistair, and the few people in the building gave them a wide berth. Tibs counted his steps as they walked through the building, and decided he’d made a mistake somewhere, because he ended up with something larger than what he knew the outside to be.
Outside the building, they headed for the center of the town and people moved out of their ways, sometimes without even looking at them. Was Alistair doing something? Was it some power of his element? Or was it simply the man’s anger at being cornered into doing this that the people around them felt?
Their destination came in view when Alistair finally spoke, his voice calm. “You really don’t know about levels?”
“Someone mentioned Delta, and Tirania said that once I became Epsilon I’d be free.”
“Is that what she said?” he asked, looking at him suspiciously, then away, and his tone became annoyed. “Of course she did. She told me the same thing.” He stopped rubbing his left wrist and Tibs looked ahead as he felt the man’s glare.
“There are ten levels, from the weakest to strongest they are Omega, Upsilon, Rho, Lamba, Zeta, Epsilon, Delta, Gamma, Beta, and finally Alpha.”
Tibs had a long way to go before reaching Epsilon. “Is Tirania Alpha?”
Alistair snorted. “No. She’s Beta, only Gamma and above can be in charge of a guild.”
“So her leader is Alpha?”
Alistair shook his head. “There hasn’t been an Alpha level adventurer for more than a thousand years. Do you need me to repeat the levels?”
“Alpha, Beta, Gamma, Delta, Epsilon, Zeta, Lamba, Rho, Upsilon, and Omega. I have it.”
Alistair smiled at him. “Good.”
They reached the transport platform, and Alistair bypassed the line of merchants, or other travelers, to step on it. The only kind of people Tibs didn’t see in the line were runners. Those he did see, stood at the periphery, more than one with a calculating look on their face.
Tibs had stood where they did a few times, trying to come up with a way to escape, but as far as he could figure out, the men or women wearing the golden robe, like the one who joined them as Alistair stepped in front of the person waiting, were required to make it work. Even when they weren’t the ones making the gestures before they vanished.
This time Alistair was the one who gestured and they weren’t in the town anymore. Tibs readied himself for the wave of nausea he felt the first time he’d been through this kind of transport; when he’d been sent to the dungeon town, but he felt fine.
The first thing he noticed was the humidity, it was thick and pressing in on him. The cave was illuminated with crystals around the platform, and lining a large hallway. In the distance Tibs heard falling water, the kind that reminded him of the worst storm he’d been in; when the house he’d taken refuge in had shaken with the thunder and the rain fell so hard it pushed through any cracks.
“Come,” Alistair instructed as he stepped off the platform. Tibs got over his surprise and caught up to him as he entered the hallway. “If you are going to have any chance of surviving this,” the man said, “remember to treat Water with respect. He’s a force of nature, not a mark for you to steal from. You have to impress him with your willingness to work for him.”
Tibs stopped. “Am I going to be his slave?” He’d spent his life staying out of the grasp of the people like that on the street.
“Of course not,” Alistair answered, not stopping. “It’s a symbiosis, if you understand what the word means.”
Tibs ran to catch up. “I don’t.”
“A partnership, then. You know that one?”
Tibs nodded.
“If you survive, water will give you some of himself to control, to obey your will, but in return, part of your will is going to bend to him. Your interaction with him will change how you think in a way that serves him. It isn’t anything big. Even knowing this, you won’t notice it until you look back on your life and see all the little ways in which your behavior echoed that of water.”
Tibs wonder if he’d made the right choice now that he knew this. Tirania said water was about protection, and he wanted that, but did it mean he wouldn’t want his revenge after this? Maybe fire would have been a better choice? Fire burned everything, so it had to be okay with revenge.
The sound of falling water grew louder as the humidity drew thicker. They passed doors made of what looked like crystal until they reached an open doorway which the man entered. More open doorways lined the hall and in the distance, Tibs made out rolling fog where the sound came from, but it didn’t spread into the hall.
“Tibs,” Alistair called, and he entered the room. Water flowed up to fill the doorway, then turned to clear ice. He felt the cold emanating from it.
“Did you do that?”
Alistair shook his head and motioned to the center of the room. “This is Water’s domain, he governs what happens here. We are all at his mercy.” Tibs stood where indicated. “You must kneel.”
Tibs did as instructed and Alistair crouched next to him, a hand on his shoulder. “Are you certain you want to do this, Tibs? The danger is real.”
“Isn’t it too late to turn back?”
“I don’t think so.” The man hesitated. “I’m on good terms with water, I’ve acted in his favor for years. If I speak to him on your behalf, I’m sure he would give you a reprieve and let us go.”
He could change his mind. Pick fire and be sure of his revenge. “What will Tirania say?”
Alistair chuckled. “Don’t worry about her. I can handle her tantrum.” But Tibs saw how the man’s hand twitched toward the left one on his shoulder. Alistair noticed him watching. “It’s nothing more than a nervous tic, the memory of when I was younger; not as smart about who’s instructions I followed and how.”
“So the mark isn’t forever?”
“You serve your time, then it’s removed. Hopefully, you’ve learned your lesson by then.”
Tibs was strangely comforted by the idea Bardik would regain his freedom, eventually. “Did you?”
Alistair chuckled. “I wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t. The guild’s patience isn’t limitless. Now, shall we leave?”
Tibs shook his head, realizing that Alistair was the reason. He liked the man. He could see the sternness in his eyes, but he was also kind and caring. He was willing to risk angering his leader to keep Tibs safe a little longer. Tibs wondered where he’d be now if he’d met someone like Alistair before. The thought was more melancholy than anything else. The past couldn’t be changed. All he could do was move forward, and he decided that he would do his best to do so with Alistair at his side.
“So be it,” Alistair said, resigned. “Remember Tibs, there are things far greater than us in the world, and you are about to meet one of them. Know your place, your life depends on it.”
Alistair stood, removing his hand.
Water filled his mouth. Tibs had no idea where it came from, hadn’t it been air around him moments before, wasn’t it still? He tried to cough the water out, but it only served to let more in. He turned to Alistair, reached for the man, but his expression was impartial. He didn’t move. Had it all been a trick? He’d seemed so kind.
No, he refused to believe the man had tricked him. He’d warned him there would be danger, he just had to think this through. He closed his mouth to keep more water from entering, but he still needed to breathe, wanted to breathe. He pinched his nose close to block the reflex.
Was this part of the audience? It had to be. The thought didn’t calm Tibs. What kind of element was Water that it treated him this way? Was a partnership built on putting one side in this kind of pain and danger?
He needed air, he should have picked air, at least he wouldn’t be drowning. Stars appeared in his vision. He was dying, he realized. He’d put his trust in someone, something, and had been wrong.
Trust.
Partnerships were built on that, weren’t they? Was that it? How could he show his trust here?
He closed his eyes as he moved his hands to his side. He was already falling forward. It would happen regardless. He might as well make it his decision, his show of trust. He took a deep breath of water and found himself spinning head over heel.
“Hello, thing of humans,” a voice said, coming from all around him. “Oh my, you are a small one.”
Tibs opened his eyes to find the speaker. The voice was that of a woman, gentle and comforting. Reflexively he tried to stop his tumble, to grab onto anything, but there was nothing, no floor, no wall, no Alistair, just water. Where was the room? The light seemed to come from the water itself, an even blue-green glow.
“And who are you, small one?” the voice, the woman, asked, and Tibs thought he could make out forms moving around him.
He opened his mouth to answer and immediately covered it with his hands before it filled with water.
Giggles filled the surrounding water, gentle, instead of mocking. “Oh, it is too late for that. I am all there is here.”
Tibs took a tentative breath. He felt the water move in and out with the motion, but he didn’t choke on it.
“You all do this,” she said, “even knowing what I am, you expect me to be something else.”
“Who are you?” he asked. His voice sounded different, deeper.
“I am Water, of course, and who are you?”
“I’m Tibs.” He slowed his tumble with a waving of his hands and felt better, with the lack of anything to see, he could convince himself he was still.
A form stilled before him. She reminded Tibs of a woman wrapped in shifting blue-green fabric. He was surprised. From listening to Alistair, he’d expected a man.
The form, the woman, studied him. At least he thought so, he couldn’t make out details, but she seemed to be looking at him. “Tell me, Tibs of the humans, why are you here?”
Tibs opened his mouth to explain about protecting people, but the world shifted around him.
* * * * *
“Mama!” He crouched on a floor in a dingy room. The woman lying on the pallet before him coughed and flecks of blood appeared on her lips, but she forced a smile.
“It’s alright,” she said, her voice raw. “Mama will be alright.”
She wasn’t, wouldn’t be. Even as young as he was, he knew that. She hadn’t been alright for a time now. When had she stood last? When had she walked out of this box they lived in to get him some moldy bread or a wrinkly apple? Mama wasn’t alright, and Tibs was scared.
* * * * *
“I am sorry,” the voice soothed him.
He uncurled. Hoped the water hid his tears. How he missed Mama.
“It is the way of your kind to come to an end,” she said, the soothing tone doing nothing to soothe Tibs’s pain. “What would you want of me?”
Tibs calmed himself, readied himself again to talk of protection, but his voice caught as his mouth turned into a snarl. What good would protection do Mama? Making sure others didn’t die was all fine and good, but what about her? What about Mama?
Something flickered within the form.
He forced his anger down. Water was about protection. She wouldn’t approve of his anger, would she? Alistair had warned to know his place, and here he had to be about protecting others. He gritted his teeth as the thing flickered again. Maybe he could lie to her, to Water; but lie to himself? Did he even want a partnership with Water? He’d considered fire when given an option, but that was past now.
“Tibs?” she called, and he wrenched his eyes away from the flicker. What had that even been? He felt calmer now. “What do you want?”
His eyes flicked back to the flicker before he could stop himself. Was it a show of disrespect that he looked at that instead of her? What was it? There was no blue or green about it, so what color could it be? Was it even a color?
“No, Tibs. You don’t want this.” She sounded sad.
She knew it was there? “What is it?”
She hesitated. “It is something complicated.”
“I don’t understand.”
She smiled at him. “It’s alright.” She was right, with her it would be alright, if not now, in time. “What do you want of me?”
Again his eyes moved to the flicker.
* * * * *
He ran out of the box he and Mama called home, yelling for help; being ignored. He saw the uniforms, city guards, Mama said to stay away, but Tibs had seen some of them help, in the market; a well dressed older woman. Mama had taken him, before she was sick. He went to them, begged for them to help Mama.
Laughing, they followed him. He tried to tell them this was no game, but they kept laughing.
One entered the box, called to the others until there was only one left with him, who kept him out of the box. Mama screamed, men laughed inside, the one with him held him, prevented him from going to Mama’s rescue. It lasted a long time, then she fell silent, afterwards so did the men. They left and Tibs ran in. Mama was still, exposed. He covered her, believing — needing to believe — she was sleeping. He curled up against her, forcing himself to ignore the wrongness of how still she was. He stayed with her as realization grew in time with the cold of her body. He felt something he’d never felt before, a new and powerful emotion.
* * * * *
Tibs hated.
He hated the men who had hurt Mama, the sickness that had made her weak, himself for not protecting her better; for bringing the men to her. For the Street that had been their only world; where he had to learn to steal, to survive, hide, and stay ahead of those who wanted the little he had.
He wanted them all to pay, to destroy them— the thought dissolved under a cool touch.
“It is also in the nature of your kind to be in, and cause, pain. But it isn’t in my nature to run hot. I am sorry, Tibs, this is not something I can offer.” His eyes went to the flicker, sometimes a myriad of colors, sometimes not. “Maybe,” she said, and Tibs looked up at her. “It’s possible that it can give you what you want, but it will not be an easy path.” Her touch cooled him, soothed the pain. “I can take it away, with me you can move on, do something better for others.”
“But that can make them pay?” He hated himself for the harshness of his voice. She didn’t deserve that, she wanted to help him. He should accept her help, let her take his pain away, but what of Mama then?
“If you are strong enough. Know that if you chose it over me, there will be no certainty. It is a complicated path that will barely reward you until you have done enough. You will not be able to depend on it, and in the end, it may demand far more of you than you can give.”
“But with it, there’s a chance I can avenge Mama?”
Her nod felt sad. “It can certainly run hot enough for that.”
Tibs forced himself to calm down, something he thought her presence helped with. What would he sacrifice, was willing to sacrifice?
“If I chose that over you, you say I’ll get little, but what will I get?”
“You will get a little of me, I am connected to it, after all, if not, you wouldn’t see it. But it will be so little that it is best if you choose me. I can promise you a long and fulfilling life.”
A long life would give him time. Time to come up with another way to achieve his revenge, maybe. Only if she didn’t change him so much he wouldn’t want it anymore. Could he abandon Mama like that?
He made his choice and reached through her for the flicker. It jumped to his hand and colors and not colors appeared over it before soaking into him. “I’m sorry,” he told her, and was surprised to find he meant it. She’d been kind to him.
“It’s alright,” she answered, her cool voice soothing the worry away. “Maybe it is time, and maybe you can do better than your predecessor. But that will only matter if you can get the others to be part of this.”
“Others?”
“Of course, did you think I was the only one of us who is part of it? I did warn you this would be complicated. You will need to gain Fire, Earth and Air’s approval to start with, show to them you are the right one to carry this element, this burden.”
Burden?
“How do I do that?” he asked, wondering what he’d gotten himself into.
“Request an audience of them, Be honest with who you are, and it is possible they will agree.”
“And if they don’t?” Tibs wasn’t sure he’d done the right thing anymore.
Her touch wasn’t enough to soothe the worry and fear away this time. “This path will give very little, unless you get it all. Your life would have been easier had you chosen me, Tibs of humans, May this thing you call luck be with you on your journey.”
* * * * *
Tibs barely had the time to put his hand under him to catch himself as he coughed out water. He tried to force it all out until he felt hands and heard Alistair.
“It’s okay, Don’t fight it. You’re back; the water will leave by itself.”
Finally, Tibs gasped in air. When was the last time he’d breathed?
“How do you feel?” Alistair helped him back into a kneeling position.
“Like I almost drowned.” Speaking hurt.
“It’ll pass.” Alistair crouched before him and smiled. “You survived the audience, that’s the—” The man took Tibs head in his hands and stared in his eyes, surprise and fear in his.
“What’s wrong?” Tibs asked, his voice cracking with fear.
“Your eyes, they’re still brown.”
