The Ogre Strength Fairy and the Eldest 'Son'-Chapter 501 - The Organization That Failed To Protect A Single Cold Shield, pt2
Her feet simply knew where to turn like she had walked the path yesterday. Past the Sailweaver’s District with its treated fabrics billowing in the breeze. Through the fountain square, where only five of the original seven fixtures still functioned... another small miracle of improvement, considering only three worked when she lived there. Finally she made it to the Guild Quarter where some of the oldest architecture in the port remained standing.
The key compounds, like that of the Youth Guild and the Court of Nobles, were remnants of the fortress that had once stood near the sealine thousands of years ago. One prevailing theory had been that it was built to keep an eye out on a nearby essence convergence point, though the local scholars were less interested in proving that than looking for artifacts. Those in charge only cared about having the sturdiest buildings that needed little to no upkeep and rose in the skyline like a pure show of dominance.
Coincidentally or not, it was also where Instructor Velauyn had maintained a private workshop. Where Corde assumed her body must still lay, unless others had known about it and found her. She had been lied to about so much else... the woman reasoned that being told the location was a perfect secret could have also been one more falsehood. The third floor stairwell in the northeastern corner had a window where warm light always seemed to glow - and it hid a path from young students and older teachers alike.
While the structure itself seemed unchanged for the most part, new sigil wards sat faintly in patterns that spoke of an advancement in the quality of such work in the region. The craft wasn’t something she had ever taken a strong interest in, but she knew the basics as well as anyone that could fight within - or outside of - their protections. However, in the end it was like applying a new coat of paint. Nothing really felt changed at all.
Even now, so many decades later, Corde couldn’t look at this place and be entirely certain which of her experiences from her time at the Youth Guild were real - and which had been... adjusted to suit the needs of her manipulator. For instance, she remembered an altercation at the nearby bakery where she’d stopped every morning before dawn exercises. Getting into a scuffle with another young cultivator because the young boy had apparently hucked a piece of hard bread at her back.
He hadn’t denied it, but she wasn’t sure she could have heard him deny it if illusions were at work. She just knew that a distance and isolation from others was gained after that.... and while others her age were keeping themselves apart from her, Velauyn approached. Taking advantage of a youthful need for socialization and guidance all at once, the older woman had seemed graceful and kind when offering to show her more advanced techniques that weren’t in the basic curriculum.
’I thought I’d found a mentor, but instead I found a monster.’ 𝓯𝓻𝒆𝙚𝒘𝓮𝙗𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝒍.𝙘𝓸𝙢
The main door to the Youth Guild opened easily under her hand and led to the entry hall that smelled of old wood and incense to cover it. Faded practice diagrams covered the ancient walls, showcasing extremely simple martial forms, physical energy circulation paths, simplified essence field theory... and of course, the simple notes on spiritual meditation that she’d decided to take seriously only after turning thirteen and joining Velauyn’s Guild.
An elderly woman sat behind a desk... and she looked almost as old as the building itself. Considering the Frozen Duskblade was certain it was the same secretary from more than seventy years ago, she just may well have been. Gray hair was pulled back in a severe bun and dark eyes looked sharply at the entrant. Whether she’d gained the cultivation much earlier or much later in life was hard to tell, but to the veteran of four Descents... this woman was a Triple-Primalist for sure.
’A rarity in this place. At least if you are not noble-born. And why would a noble take this thankless position?’
"Can I help you?"
The woman’s voice held that hostile terseness people get when they are used to dealing with parents who thought their children were more talented than the reality suggested. As Corde recalled, that had been the exact same tone when ten-year old her had approached, smiling to tell the thirty fourth adult that day what her Physique was. Unimpressed and unamused. At that age, she had been slightly offended... but now she was much too old to care that she was *not* being force-fed ’false’ hospitality.
"I’m looking for records about an instructor who taught here a long time ago. About seventy to eighty years back. Her name was Velauyn."
Showing off her Void Defense Society insignia, which served almost worldwide to give any member practical carte blanche in official investigative matters... the old woman tilted her head. Proceeded to clean out her ear. Asked to repeat again what was just said. Before ’hmm’ing for a full minute straight in thought.
"You’d need to check the archives. I hardly recall last month at this point. Mind the third step, it’s loose. Or at least, it was. At some point."
Nodding her thanks, she moved toward the stairs and down the narrow passage to a basement level. At the bottom, a thin door opened into a long room lined on either side with shelves. The smell of paper and its preservatives filled the air in which dust motes danced in the pale light filtering from a single, barely functioning essence lantern that served as terrible mood lighting.
Nothing was well marked, but anyone accessing one of these areas more or less knew how they were arranged. Everything was sorted by cohort and then year of enrollment. Aspect tests, expedition logs, and special notes were on individual attendee records. The instructors themselves had their own similar rack, usually smaller and at the back. She started with her own cohort documentation first.
Raising her hand to the other lights in the room one at a time, she activated them before settling on a wooden crate that looked sturdier than the chair and desk at the back. Her file was thin compared to some. No family name to record, just:
/ Corde, common-born /
Her testing results from age eight showed good progression for someone with mortal parentage and a slingshot start over that first year. Frost Element had come by then, thankfully, because she remembered thinking that enduring the looks she got at the Youth Guild was not worth missing out on helping around the house. Then at age ten, a second testing note in different handwriting.
/ Anti-Essence. Recommend specialized training track. See attached assessment. /
Of course, that file was signed by Velauyn - though there was no way to tell if it was before or after she had been approached for training. And like she was still whispering in her ear with a gentle hand on her shoulder... the ninety year old cultivator could almost feel that Illusionist in the room. Could picture her first words of congratulation.
-/- Such a rare gift, Corde. With proper training, you could become one of the finest cultivators this territory has ever produced. But you’ll need guidance. Let me help you reach your full potential. -/-
Gripping the paper too hard, she started to smooth it when she noticed an expedition note. One of the few times she left the city during the years before joining the Featherbound Frost Sorority on the heels of being just like her mentor. Velauyn had taken her along with two young members of that guild... noble twins barely fourteen themselves, to an ancient ruin where the sigils had degraded over many millennia.
-/- Don’t be afraid. You’re doing everyone a service by disrupting them before any bad failures. Just place your hand there. Yes, right there, like that. Your Physique will do the rest. -/-
That was a test to see if she could function as a sigil-breaker. To see how effective she was at breaching the hardened protections of old rituals. She never did figure out on the next few ruins what they had truly been looking for. But now that she was old enough and had seen the world, she knew for certain it could have been nothing good. But those records - and possibly those fellow students of hers - would be in the Guild that the not-yet-then monikered Frozen Duskblade never *truly* resigned from.
Done with the break, she moved to the instructor records and found what she needed in the third case of leather-bound ledgers. She wasn’t sure if it was adrenaline that chilled her or if she’d released her Frost once more, but it also did not matter... for she would not be reining in either one. Her feet pounded up the stairwell again and across the lobby. Toward the third floor stairwell she’d been in more times than one ought to be.
Because the records stated that the woman she killed resigned in good standing.
Three years *after* Corde had fled her homeland bearing that stigma.
