On Cosmic Tides

Annette made her way to the shopfront, which was now more of an office and storage space, except for the times each week they still operated as a healing clinic. Laurel had decided morning cultivation practice should start including exercise as well, and had been shouting things like “controlling the world starts with controlling yourself” and other phrases that didn’t quite translate but had the cadence of a truism. The end result of this regime was that Annette was no longer fit to be seen by the various merchants she needed to visit today. She couldn’t wait until their new sect building was done. Trekking through the city a sweaty mess was not her idea of a good time.

Refreshed and in a new set of clothes, Annette climbed higher into the city. Establishing the sect as an economic force was a delicate process and she was slightly surprised to find herself rising to the challenge. It was far more authority than she had ever been trusted with in any of her former positions.

They needed to avoid making too big a splash before they had the manpower to back it up, but they also needed to establish connections with preferred merchants and artisans as soon as possible. She had worked the twelve years since she was sixteen years old in various clerking roles, up to the personal assistant to Madame Clarissa Laurent, one of the few prominent woman merchants in the city, then jumped to secretarial roles in the more mercantile noble houses. She knew the way business was done. It would have been another decade at least in any of her previous roles to be given the same level of responsibility, or compensation.

Reminding herself of the trust her unusual friends had placed in her, Annette firmed up her shoulders as she marched into her first stop of the day with an elegant smile on her face. The young woman working the storefront confirmed Annette's appointment, leading her to a comfortably appointed meeting room and preparing some tea. The room itself was styled after a noble’s parlor, though on a smaller scale. Two settees faced each other, upholstered in a deep green velvet and embossed with the tailor’s mark. The clerk left the tea service on a low oak table sitting between them. Annette allowed herself to be led, showing no outward signs of being upset or impatient, despite being made to wait for a scheduled appointment. Patience was never something she lacked.

The man clearly felt this shop was his kingdom and customers merely arrived to shower him with praise and tribute. Annette had met plenty of such merchants. Stars, she had even worked for one, and she knew any reaction would put her at a disadvantage. She was not above some empty flattery to get a better price. Just because their coffers were full now didn’t mean they could afford to show themselves easy prey for the better merchants of the city. If the last year had taught her anything it was that a comfortable situation could be ruined in an instant.

The tailor finally entered after a few more minutes of Annette sipping tea and observing the room. “Sorry about the delay my dear, you know how these things go. Now, I believe you spoke with my assistant about wanting to put in a rather large order.”

“Think nothing of it Mr. Cromwell. And that is correct, my organization will need uniforms in an array of sizes and levels of formality and durability. Since everyone says you are the best tailor in the city for people that appreciate quality and quantity, I came to you.”

“Right you are dear! Now let's talk specifics. I’ve looked over the designs you picked out, and I think we will average 25 silver per set. Three levels of formality and you are looking for a range of sizes, so that brings you to 22 and a half gold. We’d do half up front and the balance upon delivery.”

“Now Mr. Cromwell, your work is certainly worth that and more, but we are a fledgling organization, just beginning to find our legs. I can see 25 for the most formal outfits, but surely the everyday-wear could be made for 15 silver each. I think 16 and a half gold would be more than reasonable.”

A quarter hour of haggling and overly saccharine flattery later, Annette left Cromwell’s with a receipt for a selection of uniforms sufficient for their growing sect, once they got around to recruiting anyone. It didn’t matter, whenever they did, they would be ready. Laurel knew about the magic, Adam could design an entirely new type of organization and manage the library, along with the truly absurd number of guild licenses, but this was where Annette would contribute. The little details that the others wouldn’t think of or have time for, but would be the glue that turned them from a thought experiment into an actual functioning organization.

The rest of the day passed between visits to one producer then another. Annette was careful to choose places that were high quality, but not the very top tier shops. Those were hotbeds of gossip with news of what shops the nobles patronized spreading throughout the city, and even occasionally reported on in the papers. They were rarely worth the premium price. She also made note of what they might be able to sell themselves. A furniture wholesaler might want heat crystals to avoid any open flames near the wood and lacquer. More discerning salespeople would appreciate the light crystals that could be adjusted to show their wares to the best advantage. And always, she came back to the factories and foundries and how the workers could benefit if she could convince them to set up air purifiers.

******

Annette’s mother welcomed her with a hug when she arrived for dinner. She allowed herself to sink into it. Her mother’s hugs were the best cure for a long day. “We hardly ever see you this early Annette, darling. With John away on the ships, why, your father and I are at loose ends.”

“I’m sorry, mama, I’ll try to get in earlier.” Annette felt a pang of guilt. Her father’s deteriorating health had driven her into a world of politics and magic, and yet she couldn’t even be bothered to make her way a few districts up the hill to spend time with him before he went to bed.

“That’s quite alright dear, we know you’re busy. We’re proud of how hard you work.” Annette was herded into the dining room, where her father was already waiting, perusing a paper popular with the working classes. He put it away when she walked in, and the strength of his embrace almost brought her to tears. Earlier this year she had been convinced she was watching him die, and now he was back to the gregarious man she’d grown up with. “Now, tell us all about it.”

“Hmm, things are going well. I have a real place with the sect, and I’m learning magic.”

An explosion of questions followed this declaration. Annette spent the rest of the evening basking in her parents' warmth. She left the next morning fully motivated to connect with her mana and become a new kind of cultivator.

********

Reina sprinted over the finish line of the obstacle course and stumbled to the side. She bent over her knees, panting and dripping sweat.

“Best way to wake up in the morning,” Captain Varska said from a few meters away, where she was stretching after her own run of the course.

Reina joined her, following along with the movements as they both watched Major Kat finish at a much more leisurely pace. “Yes ma’am”.

She may have privately thought that a cup of tea and morning paper were the best way to start a morning, but that wasn’t what she signed up for when she joined the army. Major Kat finally joined them and sat on the least muddy part of the grass she could find. Varska transitioned to a series of body weight exercises. Reina moved to join in, despite the protests of her muscles.

“What Kat, don’t feel like working hard today?” Reina was unclear how Varska maintained the same level of irreverent humor while performing a perfect squat. She supposed that was what it took to be one of the first female officers in the special forces.

“I’m training Varska. Pilots need to be able to sit all day without locking up, need to keep the skills sharp.” The three laughed as the soldiers continued their workout.

“So Reins, how is the magic class going?” Varka asked.

“Its … good… can’t … do … much … so … far.” Each word was punctuated by a crunch. Her whole torso screamed in protest as she finished the set and laid back for a rest.

“But it's good so far? I’m not sure how I feel about giving some stranger the keys to the kingdom, as it were.” Varska’s usually upbeat tone took a turn towards the serious.

Reina paused so she could get a full sentence out. “I think so. At least I haven’t noticed anything nefarious. And Madame Skycrest seems on board.” Varska didn’t look particularly appeased. “If anything I’m worried more about Laskar. I overheard the ex-scribe talking to Master Stormblade. Apparently she was jumped by some sort of wizard death squad before she left the capital.

“I mean, she was fine, but if they have that kind of resource, what is a regular person supposed to do?”

“I guess that’s why we have you Lieutenant.” Kat added her own commentary to the story. “For my part, I think the lady is telling the truth. Just wants to do her magic and form a school, and maybe fight a monster every now and then. A woman after your own heart Varska. If those Laskarian bastards have some second-rate witches running around, I’m glad to know we have the real thing.”

“No pressure then,” Reina said, before remembering these were both superior officers. Luckily they both laughed it off.

“Pressure is what makes this job exciting.” Varska said. “Well, that and the explosive certification.”

********

Laurel stood with John, the foreman of the construction site, on the shell of the top floor of their sect house. The both faced west, the sun slowly inching its way over the horizon behind them. Fort Sarken stood as an imposing bulwark in the distance, beyond which the sea was a dark plane, looking for all the world like a portal into a new universe.

“Three months for the main structure, another 6 weeks for specialist work after that.” John announced, puffing gently on his pipe. “Smoothest building framing I’ve ever seen. Assuming you’re right about keeping the snow out and keeping it warm enough to work when we hit winter.”

“I will.” Laurel responded warmly. “Five months, if we give ourselves some breathing room. Let’s see what we can get done in five months.” Laurel clapped John on the shoulder and then jumped through the opening where the wall would eventually go, landing four stories down in a crouch. She was greeted by a round of mocking applause as Theresa and Adam had already arrived for the morning cultivation session.

“Truly, the wonders of magic. One day I, too, will be able to jump off a building because I’m too lazy to take the stairs.” Adam drawled. Laurel responded with a rude hand gesture, and immediately undercut it by laughing.