Time to Read:
Thadus regretted ever breaking his many thousands of days’ long record of never visiting a mortal city-state. Not that he had ever counted the days, but he was born to spellcasters away from mortal dwellings, so naturally it could be calculated.
He sniffed as the town guards considered the destroyed wall, then looked at the relatively tall man in a dark red coat with silver and silk embroidery on the cuffs and lapels.
“Sir…” one of them began.
“I have repaired it.”
The guards once again looked at the fractured wall, which may or may not have turned about two inches thinner in a couple of spots.
Perfectly normal. It was a fault in the design, not in Thadus’ skill, naturally. It was already like that, and it only was because Thadus reassembled it that the problem was revealed. It was, however, stronger and sturdier now. All relevant pieces were in place.
That some cobblestones were left over and two of the guards had to sweep away some sand and dust…
That was not a fault of his. Those were extra parts. They weren’t part of the actual street. And the dust and sand was just from the ground, already there from the very beginning. It happened.
It had nothing to do with the wall.
The most well-dressed guard hummed. “I did not say anything else, Sir. However, whether or not you corrected the issue, we have to give you punishment for the temporary destruction of our city. It’s only a slight amercement, to make up for the inconvenience for all people in the district,” he explained.
“Fine. But I still reconstructed the wall to its previous condition.”
“So you did, Sir,” the guard replied. “An excellent performance, if I must say so myself.”
Another guard tapped Guard Properly-Dressed on the shoulder. “How do we, ahem, determine the amount of the amercement for a matter such as this?”
“Go find a merchant with large scales. Any scale will do, as long as it weighs true.”
Three or four guards left to do as told.
“Hmph.” Thadus was unimpressed.
How primitive these things were. Could they just not use scales anymore?
A few minutes later, the guards returned with a large scale on a cart, and some merchant and weights in tow as well.
While Thadus rolled his eyes at how infuriating these beings were, they loaded one side of the scales with dust, broken stone and some cobblestones, while putting weights on the other side.
Guard Properly-Dressed stood at the side watching the scales. “How come you have brought us the fortune of your presence, Sir?” he asked. “Rockforge hardly has anything to offer an exalted spellcaster, such as yourself.”
“No reason,” Thadus replied, clipped.
“Ah, I see. We are indeed very privileged to have a spellcaster decide to study the lives of us mortals here in Rockforge. You have my deepest gratitude. But we still sincerely request you avoid casting spells on our architecture, Sir.”
Thadus gave the guard an offended look.
The guard said nothing else.
“It totals to fifty-two and a quarter pounds!” a young guard announced.
“That will be fifty-two and a quarter in silver then, Sir.”
Thadus took out his purse.
“In equal weight, Sir,” Guard Properly-Dressed added.
Thadus bristled. “I am aware!” He took out a house seal. “Hurry up and get the paperwork done. I’ll leave it to the estate in Fifteenth Eden.”
Guard Properly-Dressed waved for a scribe to come over and had a scroll written right there. He then requested, “I would appreciate if you would sign here, Sir, and stamp here to prove authenticity of your exalted name and house.”
Thadus truly regretted he had ever come. But at least the amercement was a very small sum in the end. It could have been worse.
The matter was quickly settled once he could just deal with the paperwork. He had no reason to be pleasant enough to remain there for their conversational entertainment. He could have left from the beginning, naturally, but he was at the very least a decent spellcaster. Not a pest, like that little thief. He actually wished to uphold the favourable reputation of spellcasters. Not for the mortals, but for his own high kin.
Who hadn’t heard of someone who treated mortals lesser than their own pets? It was common enough to gossip about, as some spellcasters forgot that mortals were just lesser in how they structured their societies, in their social habits, and of course in how they built any constructs. They were not inhuman.
According to common lore, mortals were said to potentially being ancestors to spellcasters. Thadus subscribed to the far more proven theory that all humans — both mortals and spellcasters — descended from spellcasters. After all, not all mortals could even read. How could spellcasters descend from creatures who wouldn’t ever learn such basic skill? This theory predated the more recent one by more than a few decades. Naturally, this one ought to be the truth.
Thadus was, after all, very well-educated.
He was truly fully aware that mortality was a human problem, not a mortal one. The most ancient scribes spoke of mortality as a disease that plagued mortal and high kin alike, but in recent centuries it has been recognised the mortality rate are simply higher in mortals and that the cause was not an inherent disease. Spellcasters eventually die as well, of course, but only about half do before they are between seven and fifteen decades of age. About one in ten reach thirty decades, one in a thousand or less might survive to fifty.
Both ancient and recent theories are simply based upon either looking down on mortals, or looking down on spellcasters. Only once you stripped away all flourishing, would one conclude that spellcasters are of higher kin and only by removing the biases can one truly argue so.
As he pondered this truth, he left the horrible market district and its crowded streets and found himself in a district with a mixture of likely artisans and housing. It was still loud, there was still a stench, but from somewhere, he could detect a fragrance of something tasty.
The streets were bustling, and he heard resounding clanking over the many conversations that were half-shouted between mortals. Soon he walked past a smith hammering away on some shiny yellow metal.
It was presumably gold.
How irresponsible.
Gold was an excellent conductor of magic. It was only used for such by spellcasters. Thadus had never understood the need for gold in anything but magic tools, but mortals were a silly collection of creatures. They should, he sensibly thought, seek to learn magic and have their descendants become spellcasters too, or give the goods to the spellcasters to make better magic tools so mortals needed not live such wasteful lives while packed like sardines.
The pleasant fragrance came from a tavern. Unfortunately, it was a bit too cramped and, when Thadus asked for a private quarter to dine in, he was told there was no such thing.
What else could Thadus do than try for a different, more reasonable, establishment?
— Over there, Humble One!
— What’s there?
— Food! I found you food, Humble One!
— That is, quite literally, a heap of rubbish. The only thing in there would be mice.
— I perceived some humans in the slums cook mice as we walked past them earlier. They are indeed considered food. And you eat similar things, no, Humble One?
— A mouse isn’t enough, you silly little thing. At least give me a whole rat. Preferably a large one.
Author’s Note
He fixed the wall, I promise. (Thadus forced me to say this.)
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