Misfit’s Journey

The morning was still young, and Sylvane’s guild had not yet officially opened its doors for the day. Despite that, Bastian found himself standing in the empty main hall of the guild, his gaze fixed upon the staircase ascending to the first floor.

In contrast to the ground floor, entry to the first floor was limited to a selected few individuals. It was where both, the guildmaster and vice guildmaster offices were located and so every person going up these stairs was likely to be either of significant importance or had business with one of the guildmasters. And Bastian was one of those with important business.

Bastian adjusted his cravat with precision before retrieving his pocket watch. Seeing the large hour hand point at nine, he let out an exhausted sigh and ascended the staircase. None of the employees working behind the reception did so much as bat an eye at his action.

The second floor only consisted of a single broad corridor with one large door at the end—the guildmaster’s office—and a few other rooms to the left and right.

Bastian had never seen what was inside, nor had he ever asked. Ignoring all of them, he halted before the very last door on the right wall. The door was inscribed with the words ‘vice guildmaster’.

He began lifting his arm to knock, only to halt abruptly when he realized he was still holding onto the pocket watch. He quickly stashed it back into one of his jacket’s pockets and proceeded to knock.

“Vince, it’s me,” he announced.

A subdued “Enter” granted him permission to open the door, halting mid step when he saw that the vice guildmaster sitting at his big desk covered in documents and he was not alone.

At the side of his long-time friend, there stood a young woman with auburn hair neatly braided and cascading over her shoulder. Her emerald-green eyes were impossible to miss. Clad in the standard guild uniform, she was undoubtedly an employee. Her beauty was marred only by the blank expression she wore, though it also lent an intriguing air of mystery to her presence.

Bastian hesitated, uncertain what to do now. Both, his friend and his company were looking at him.

“Come in. This is Medea,” when he introduced her, the woman offered a short bow, which Bastian recuperated.

Looking at his old friend and vice guildmaster, he recognized that his long ashen hair was quite messy and the dark circles around his deep blue eyes were proof of exhaustion. Vince, as Bastian called him, was the same as always, working until he looked half-dead. There was a new large scar on his forehead that reached from his hairline right over his right eye and covered almost a fourth of his entire face.

“Good day to both of you,” Bastian offered the greeting. The vice guildmaster just grunted with a nod, while the woman remained silent, her eyes fixated on him and observing his every movement.

As if that wasn’t already bad enough, judging by the shape of the woman’s ears, she appeared to be an elf. Bastian wouldn’t have been concerned if she were a human, but with an elf present, the conversation he planned to have would become even more uncomfortable than expected.

Nonetheless, he approached the desk and sat down in one of the guest chairs. Once he had settled, the vice guildmaster put the document he was reading aside and locked eyes with Bastian. Breaking contact after a few seconds, he leaned back, running a hand through his messy hair.

“So, please enlighten me. What do I owe the honor of a visit from the city lord’s grand chamberlain?” He asked with a smile.

Addressing him by his title was an unnecessary formality, which Vince only used because Bastian hadn’t contacted him as a friend, but as a servant of the lord. And at this moment, her wished that this was just a friendly visit, but unfortunately, it wasn’t.

“The city lord sent me here with a request for the guild,” Bastian replied.

“Requests are handled by receptionists, not the vice guildmaster, friend,” Vince frowned.

“I know, but I judged this request to be more of a you-problem.”

Vince arched an eyebrow and inquired, "Why should a request from our esteemed city lord pose any difficulties that would force you to come to me? Sounds like treason to me.” His words were accompanied by a sly smirk.

However, his smirk vanished when Bastian did not react in kind, but remained stone-faced.

“Treason or not, this is better for all of us,” he responded, retrieving an envelope from his jacket’s interior and delicately sliding it across the desk toward Vince.

His curiosity piqued as he observed the envelope gliding across all the other documents. He reached for it, snatching it from beneath Bastian’s fingertip. After breaking the seal, he retrieved the letter within, discarding the envelope onto his desk. Unfolding the letter, he started reading.

Bastian observed carefully as the vice guildmaster, one of Sylvane’s most influential figures, went through various phases of emotion. It started with annoyance, which quickly turned into anger. Not long after, disgust was added to anger, and at the end of it all Bastian was on the ready to fight for his life, because Vince was obviously very displeased.

Quickly assessing the situation, his gaze shifted to the elf, who had not once taken her eyes of Bastian. It was quite uncomfortable to be stared at so excessively, but at least she didn’t read the contents of the letter or a fight might have already broken out.

As for Vince, his gaze could probably kill a low-leveled person and even Bastian felt the prickle at the back of his neck. But to his relief, the vice guildmaster contained his anger and exhaled deeply, his breath carrying a sense of authority. Glancing over his shoulder, Vince put the letter down, with

To his relief though, the guildmaster contained himself and let out a deep, powerful breath. He let the letter fall out of his hands and onto the desk. He turned the letter around, so that the contents couldn’t be read. Bastian was thankful that he was not showing it to the elf.

“Bastian, you are my friend and I respect you as such, but this,” he tapped onto the letter, “requires a very, very good explanation,” he spoke cooly. Then Vince remained silent, waiting for his requested explanation.

Bastian considered his words carefully, taking deep breaths to help himself focus. Convincing Vince was all he had to do and the consequences were too big to fail.

“Greed. That is the motivation behind this request,” Bastian replied truthfully. Vince knew him too well to not recognize a lie and he wasn’t trying to fool him. All he needed was Vince’s help, even if it cost him his position later on.

Vince’s blue eyes flared up briefly and Bastian saw them twitch. In an instant, he had his defensive skills ready to receive whatever attack was coming, but he never had to use them. Instead, Vince sighed and he turned to the elven woman once again.

“Medea, I need you to gather all the employees and notify the guildmaster. We are organizing a revolt,” he casually ordered the elf, who bowed respectfully and prepared to leave when Bastian practically jumped out of his chair.

“Wait! I have a suggestion, please, trust me! There is no need for a revolt!”

Bastian was not really that troubled that the vice guildmaster just voiced intention of revolting. He knew the only target of the guild would be the lord, but in the process many soldiers would have to offer their lives for that imbecile and he couldn’t allow that to happen.

Vince raised his hand and the elven woman, Medea, stopped.

“Its not like I want to become a traitor to the kingdom and a noble killer, but this,” he held up the letter, “really doesn’t leave me with many choices, so you better make one goddamn convincing argument.”

“I know what the lord requests is, frankly, bat-shit crazy, but if your guild does not accept the request, the lord will send his own army. And you know how noble-led armies act when they think they act in the name of justice. They cannot deal with this kind of thing!” Bastian was desperate. He could not allow a revolt to happen or he would need to fight against his friends to defend that fool of a noble.

“‘This kind of thing’? He wants to kill a Wild Woman! Inside the goddamn Bloodriver itself!” He shouted. And that was it. The very information he did not want the elf to hear, but now it was too late. Bastian prayed, begged the very gods she didn’t hear, but his prayers were not answered.

He quickly looked at the elf woman and it was in that moment that his thoughts came to a halt. The elf woman had stared from the very moment her entered the room, but now something in her gaze had changed. There was no visible emotion in her green eyes, but when he looked into them, he suddenly felt as if thorny vines were wrapping around his heart and digging through his lungs. He struggled to breathe, fighting for air as he broke out in a cold sweat.

“Medea,” the name was spoken with calm and neutrality, but the elf woman reacted in an instant and the pressure that was weighing down on Bastian vanished. He was drenched, gasping for air and without noticing it, he had fallen to his knees.

Bastian tried to thank Vince, but struggled to speak. Only after a minute did he calm down enough to string a decent sentence together, however, he was cut off before he even started.

“How did he even get this insane idea?” Vince asked, massaging the bridge of his nose.

"I... can't say for certain why he did it, but he got wind of an infested lair, dispatched a group of rogues inside, but they never came back. He believes they perished, and now he views the lair as a peril to his people… or so he claims. I do not know the real reason, most likely it’s just because.”

In actuality, the lord just heard about the beauty of Wild Women and wanted one for himself, but Bastian kept that to himself. After that experience he did not want to anger the elf again.

“Your lord should know that humans do not mingle in Fänggen business. Especially not if it concerns their direct relatives. How am I to explain to the High-Fangga that there is a bounty on her cousin’s head?” He asked. Bastian knew Vince wasn’t expecting an answer from him and he couldn’t offer one. You were better off slitting your own throat than telling a High-Fangga something like that and he knew it. 

“They do know of our pact, but many of the high-ranking nobles view the Fangga as nothing more than old monsters that we graciously spared. He is on a power-high and cannot see reason.”

Vince shrugged, “Now you are just giving me more reasons to kill him.”

Bastian panicked, “N-no. Please don’t. Just hear me out. The lord demands the lair infestation gone and thinks the issue is solved with the death of the Wild Woman. If there is anyone who can figure out a way to remove the contamination it is your guild.”

Vince appeared deep in thought for a moment, but then the elf abruptly averted her gaze from Bastian and leaned closer to Vince, murmuring something discreetly into his ear. Once she had finished, Vince seemed to have reached a decision.

“Alright, tell your lord our guild will deal with this.”

Bastian smiled for the first time today as relief washed over him and he bowed deeply.
“Thank you so much!”

After getting what he came for, Bastian went over some details with Vince and eventually departed after saying his goodbyes and thanking him once again. If everything went as he planned, Sylvane might still exist when the next year begins.

***

After Bastian left, Medea grabbed the letter from the vice guildmaster’s desk and read the contents. Her face went through a similar process like Vince’s, but she lacked the same control.

Enraged, she tore the letter in half, then summoned a small flame on the tip of her finger and turned it into ashes.

This was probably also the reason why Vince had not offered her to read the letter, since he anticipated that this would happen.

“Vince, I am going to slaughter that lord like the pig he is,” she hissed.

She was furious, and that was putting it the nice way. But after reading the lord’s demands for the guild, she wanted to see blood. She could bear if humans talked about Wild Women as if they were monsters, but this lord had crossed a line. He had put a target onto one of them.

Mitchel had told her that a contaminated lair had been found and that it belonged to a Wild Woman, but she didn’t think a human would be foolish enough to target the Wild Woman and not the species that caused the contamination.

What humans did not know was that Wild Women did not have lairs. Or rather, establishing a system-recognized lair was comparable to a coming-of-age ceremony. It only happened right before a Wild Woman evolved into a Fangga.

Which would mean, the Wild Woman would become her youngest sister. She really didn’t care much for Fangga business and mostly watched it from afar with interest, but she still loved her siblings. So when this lord did not only wish for her death, but even even requested her corpse to be retrieved if possible, she could not help but get angry.

Also, she quite liked Sylvane, so it would be a shame having her sisters returning the ground it was built on to how her mother formed it.

“Medea, calm down. The lord is an idiot, but you can’t just waltz in there and kill him.”

“But I can?” Medea tilted her head.

Vince sighed, “Not the point. It is now our job to deal with the lair, so nobody needs to die, not the Wild Woman, not the city lord, nor the entire population of Sylvane.”

“And? He still wants to kill a soon-to-be Fangga. If the other Fänggen get wind of that your precious little city will not make it through winter,” she spoke with ridicule.

One might think that to be an exaggeration, but it was not and both of them knew it. Killing a Fangga was essentially the same as attacking Mother Nature and the wrath of nature itself was nothing a human city could bear.

Plants refusing to grow, rivers ceasing to flow and rain stopping to fall. Not only would Sylvane lose all of its agriculture, they would also have to fight a forest full of beasts and monsters on limited rations. As one might imagine, trying to live with the hatred of nature itself was quite difficult. And since the enemy was nature itself, there would not be a single soul outside Sylvane willing to help. Because, normally, one did not want to piss off nature.

“I understand the situation perfectly fine, thank you. Write up an emergency request, we look for a party, preferably nature-aligned or an elf member. Leave out details and make the only objective of the quest to come to my office for more information. We can’t have this leaked.”

Medea, despite her annoyance, nodded and left the room for the reception. She had a request to write.