Of Conversations and Car Rides

The rest of the school day had passed with little of note for John. He’d coasted through the classes without issue, and now made his way to the library. As he walked through the hallway, he idly pulled up the window for the newest skill he’d acquired.

All his practice through lunch had been rewarded with a gem, colored brilliant teal, with tiny plates of copper imitating a castle’s rampart along the bottom third. The targetter was an imposing teal slab that The Gamer could mold slightly to fit his spacing needs. He’d spent some time at lunch messing with it, but he couldn’t do all that much yet to really change how it turned out.

Also, there was a mysterious frozen patch out behind the library that he hoped would melt before people started asking questions.

’It’s a start at least,’ The Gamer thought, rounding the final corner to his destination. ’I should probably think about swapping it and my [Lesser Earth Spike] around so I can check the upgrade options, while they have relatively little to lose for experience. I really need more slots.’

Lost in thought, John arrived at the library, heaving open the heavy door and heading inside. It was eerily silent as he maneuvered through the shelves towards the help desk. The whole place seemed empty, save for a single dark-haired girl, stacking playing cards on a table.

As he approached the desk at the center of the room, the faintest whispers of conversation crept towards him through the silent rows of bookshelves. At first, it was little more than the idea of speech he could make out, but, as he reached the final shelf, two voices he could somewhat understand reached his ears.

“-sidered…” came the first voice, a soft, pleasant sound that John recognized from his morning conversation, though now it seemed tempered and serious. “... need to speak to the knight-captain.”

A second, sterner voice spoke next, which The Gamer couldn’t identify immediately. “...can be arranged… speak with my father…”

John briefly considered waiting behind a bookshelf to eavesdrop for a bit before a pang of guilt hit him and he rounded the final corner, putting himself in view of the desk. Behind which stood Ela, stiff, almost at attention. The blonde’s face was turned down slightly, a look of deep thought upon her face - creases adorned her angular features.

Across from her was another woman with her back turned, though John could have picked out her fiery red hair from a mile away. That or her stunning backside, which threatened to escape her uniform if given the chance. John furrowed his brows, trying to work out what he’d stumbled upon.

Ela took a breath and looked up as if to respond, noticing him. Her momentary distraction did not go unnoticed, and Moira Brighton turned to face The Gamer with a whirl of crimson.

Two sets of eyes zeroed in on John, and he shrunk under their gazes.

The first were the familiar blue of the busty blonde he’d spent the morning with. Her surprised gaze softened, and a small smile broke through a tense look on the Polish woman’s face as she gestured for him to join the two.

The second were the brilliant emerald orbs of Moira Brighton, accompanied by a stern gaze that froze John in his tracks. She was as imposing as ever, dwarfing both Ela and him in the room, despite her smaller stature.

Mentally, the nervous nerd sighed. He could think of a few other situations where he'd be thrilled to be the center of attention for a beautiful blonde and a stunning redhead.

Shuddering under the redhead’s watch, John took heart in Ela’s smile and walked forward to meet them.

He raised a hand and cautiously wiggled his fingers in a wave. “Uh… hi? Sorry to interrupt?”

A nervous tension settled across the room for a moment. Time seemed to freeze from John's perspective. Moira narrowed her eyes at that, and the nervous nerd got the all-too-familiar feeling of someone judging him.

'Is everyone in this Abyss or whatever going to be this intense?' he wondered, shifting uncertainly.

An uncomfortably anxiety began to settle in John’s stomach. He hadn’t been prepared for another grilling so quickly; Moira Brighton was intimidating enough on a normal day, let alone on this one, where he now knew that she was a part of some massive, magical guild.

’At least Ela said they’re supposed to be the good guys, right?’ John thought, wilting under the inspection. ’I am not ready to be talking to all these people today. I need a nap.’

Before he could finish his internal lamentations, her gaze softened. The world started turning again and she spoke.

“So you are the Late Bloomer Ela was telling me about,” Moira intoned, eyes laser-focused.

“Uh…” John’s brain took a moment to remember the term. “Person who just randomly got magic powers yesterday? That would be me. I’m pretty sure.”

“Warden,” the blonde behind Moira said, “I believe that John may be who you sensed yesterday.”

'Warden?' John wondered, 'I guess that was her title, right?'

Sounds important.

“Oh, uh, yeah, sorry about that,” The Gamer apologized, looking at the stern redhead. “Didn’t really know what was going on.”

Moira nodded at his apology.

“The Lady has blessed you with good fortune, at least,” she said, turning so she could see both Ela and John. "To have awoken in Springfield and encountered the Order first.”

“So I’ve been told,” The Gamer replied, smiling wryly.

"Ela has already told me some of what you told her," Moira continued. "Is she the only one you have shown your magic to?"

John balked at that, clearing his throat and inadvertently taking a half step back.

"Uh… about that,” he started, a nervous tinge in his voice. “I didn't want to tell anyone else, but Mrs. Wentworth caught me as I was leaving history.”

Ela leaned forward, worry strewn across her face. “I thought that I had told you not to use any magic around her?”

“I know! I know!” John retorted, defensively. “You did and I didn’t. Well… I didn’t use anything intentionally. She just called me out after class to talk to me. Said something about not being able to sense me yesterday.”

“You are radiating far more mana than yesterday,” Moira interjected. “Do you know why that is?”

“There’s maybe some passive stuff with my magic that I hadn’t considered.” He flushed, looking at Ela as he pointed above his head. “I didn’t think about it before going to class, but the party was still active. The whole UI kinda fades away and I just wasn’t thinking about it when I was closing stuff.

“It also could maybe just be my level. I’ve gained two since history class yesterday. Didn’t think about that until just now. My mana capacity is significantly higher than before.”

Ela's face contorted in thought as she worked that over in her head. A cute pout developed as she scrunched up.

“Either could make sense,” the Bookworm Knight acquiesced, calming from her initial reaction. “I am glad you are alright.”

“‘The Party?’” Moira asked, confused. “What do you mean by ‘levels?’”

“Oh, uh, those are like video game terms,” John explained, relieved that the topic was moving onto something he understood. “My powers function like a video game. Most - or at least many - games call a group of characters or players a party, and levels are like a measure of power or progress.

“So, I’m basically saying that, in terms of how my own powers measure me, I’m a lot stronger than I was yesterday. Maybe that contributed to Mrs. Wentworth finding me. Don’t know.”

“That’s all very unusual,” the redhead replied, turning to Ela and receiving a nod. “I’ve heard stories about Abyssals with… stranger quirks in their abilities.”

John thought he saw the faintest hint of a blush on her cheeks, but shook it off as his imagination.

“So what did The Witch want with you?” Moira asked.

“Well, uh, she wanted me to use my [Observe] skill on her - that’s the spell I was using around the school yesterday - and she let me go when it failed. Told me to leave her alone or else horrible things would happen.”

The redhead grabbed her chin in thought and pondered that for a moment.

“We should return to Brighton Manor,” she decided, looking between the others. “My father will know how best to proceed. If your luck holds up, then the Witch’s interest in you will have been fleeting.”

“I mean, sure, I guess if you think it’s that important,” John said, caught off-guard by the sudden shift. “But, uh, why Brighton Manor?”

It was Ela, this time, who answered John.

“Brighton Manor is the headquarters of the Shield Branch of the Order - perhaps the safest place in the city. We can finish our discussion there, away from The Witch’s territory. I would have offered to take you there this afternoon, anyway.”

Moira nodded at the explanation. “My father can also offer you a Writ of Protection, once we have heard your whole story.”

’Geez, too many proper nouns, people,’ John thought, trying to make sense of what had been said.

Before he could voice all the questions he had about what was going on, Moira had turned with a sudden about-face to meet the blonde’s gaze. “Can you have him at the Manor by the turn of the hour?”

“Of course, Warden,” Ela replied, a tinge of formality dulling her usual shine.

The redhead nodded in response before looking at John. “I will return first and speak to my father. We will be waiting for you there.”

Moira turned as if to leave, but stopped to glance at Ela. “If he is available, I will call for Knight-Captain Gallacher.”

John noted his party member looked down slightly at the mention of the name.

With that settled, Moira strode from the room. There was a sense of great finality in her move towards the exit, and John’s voice found itself caught in his throat. As a pleasant placation, he was treated to the sight of her large, firm butt swaying beneath her skirt as she departed.

After a moment’s enjoyment, The Gamer caught himself and tore his eyes away.

Looking over, he caught a thousand-yard stare on Ela’s face, and he paused for a second, unsure of what to say. After a few seconds, she shook it off, visibly relaxing. He hadn’t noticed the tension in her shoulders until that point. She exhaled a deep, shaky breath, and turned to face him.

“Sorry about all of that,” she said. “I should have known that the Warden would want to speak with me.”

“No, no,” John replied. “It’s fine. Sorry about walking in on you two… You alright?”

Ela smiled, soft and warm. “I am fine. We should leave now though, if we want to cross the city in time.”

“Alright, I’ll take your word for it,” The Gamer said, as confused as he was concerned, “but I got a lot of questions again. I’m getting kinda dragged around here, and I’d like at least some idea of what I’m getting into.”

---

Ela’s car was simple enough, a relatively plain blue SUV that she’d parked out behind the library. The interior was relatively austere, with little John could identify as being personalized. As she started the car, music began to play - a somber yet uplifting song that John couldn’t quite put his finger on. The music was familiar, but it was in a language he couldn’t understand.

...Kto chce z nami ruszyć w bój i na krucjatę razem iść…

He gave up on figuring it out and settled in for the ride.

It took all of John’s willpower not to stare hard at the alluring squish of the seatbelt on Ela’s generous cleavage. Every bump brought with it delicious ripples. He simply couldn’t help the occasional peek out of the corner of his eye.

As the pair had departed Ashcroft, John had taken a moment to leave a message for his mother that he was going to hang out with a friend for a while.

John: Hey Mom! I got an offer to hang out with a friend for a bit after school today. I’ll be home a little late.
Mom: That’s wonderful. Are you going to be able to get all your work done though?
John: Yes, don’t worry. I got most of it done earlier, and I should have time later tonight if I need.
Mom: OK. Are you going to need a ride home?

The Gamer checked with his current companion before he responded.

John: No, she can give me a ride back when we’re done.
Mom: Oh! I see. You didn’t mention it was a girl. Take all the time you want! I’ll see you tomorrow morning!

John flushed at the implication he’d be gone through the night. He wasn’t sure if he should be glad that it was so simple to convince her or upset at how quickly her tone had changed at his slip.

“Alright, we’re good,” John sighed, putting his phone away and returning focus to the car ride. “Can I get some answers now?”

Ela waited until she’d finished taking a turn before responding.

“It’s good that you are being more cautious than this morning,” she said with a smile. “What do you want to know?”

John grinned in turn. “You were the one that told me I was too trusting.

“So… what is this Order that you’re taking me to see?” he asked, running through the day’s conversations in his head. “I know you positively name checked them, but that’s not exactly a real answer.”

“The Order of the Golden Rose has a long and storied past,” Ela began. “You would perhaps best recognize them as paladins.

“The history, as I was taught, is that, more than a thousand years ago, in the age of King Arthur, the Lady of the Lake blessed three women, bestowing upon them both the Lady’s light itself and three artifacts of legend - a shield, a spear, and a sword - from Lady Gaia herself,” she explained with reverence. “They were charged with protecting the world from the evil that grew within the Abyss.”

She paused for a moment to merge lanes. “Those three women became the first of the Wardens - the original bearers of the Blessing of the Golden Rose. For a thousand years since, the three branches of the Order have been a bastion against darkness.

"They are not perfect, nothing is, but I believe in them."

’Hyper-religious military organizations don’t exactly have a sterling track record,’ the nervous nerd thought, looking out the window as they started crossing a bridge towards the richer housing districts.

“Wait a second,” John interjected, realization on his face. “Wasn’t Moira ‘Warden of the Golden Rose?’ Does that mean…?”

“Yes,” Ela nodded, “she is no mere knight, but the current Shield Warden - entrusted with Lady Gaia’s blessing.”

“Oh…” John muttered, recontextualizing his encounters with the imposing upperclassman. “That makes way too much sense, honestly.”

He thought of her obsessive discipline, her single-minded focus, and her gruff conviction in all he’d seen her do as class president. Suddenly, her oddities made much more sense.

“So what is this Writ of Protection she mentioned, then?” he wondered. “If their whole goal is to protect everyone anyway?”

“In some ways, the writ is a formality,” Ela clarified. “The Order protects the innocent, whether or not they have signed such an agreement. Unfortunately, there are many who benefit from the chaos and anarchy of the Abyss, and so the Order has to check on unaffiliated mages in their territory.

“It is somewhat likely as well that if your powers prove useful, they may request your assistance in exchange for fair pay.”

“I guess that all makes sense,” John said, scratching the back of his neck. 'I don’t think I’m thrilled at the prospect of that last part, but, considering what I saw in history today, the offer of protection is probably worth it.'

The two sat in silence for a moment as The Gamer mentally caught up again. The more he thought, though, the more his head hurt. He’d been dropped in media res and he had nowhere near the context he needed to make sense of any of it.

“I’ve… been wondering about something,” John mumbled, before clearing his throat and turning to address his companion. “My [Observe] on you showed no guild affiliation. Is that actually right though? You seem to be pretty involved with this Order.”

Ela’s smile faltered for a second. She bit her lip.

“That is… a long story,” she said, trailing off, “but a fair question. Your powers are not truly wrong, but they are not telling you everything.”

She took a deep breath. "I was born in Gdańsk, in Poland, on the edge of the Sword Warden's territory. There was an Order outpost there, where my mother served. All my life I wanted to be a knight.

“My family has served the Order for generations. My grandparents were knights, my mother was a knight… My older sister was a knight. She even made captain.”

Her voice shifted from pride to anxiety - there was a sense of longing. It took him a second to realize she’d spoken entirely in past tense.

“I spent six years in training as a squire, but… I never made it. That is… a longer story..."

A pained look crossed her face, and John sat, silent, unsure of what to say. He felt bad for asking.

“We’re almost at the manor,” she said, a dull strain in her voice. “We can… talk more after.”

The rest of the ride passed in silence, until they arrived at a pair of wrought-iron gates.