Relic Heirs: Chapter Sixteen

Chapter 16: Not my Mentor

Her hand shattered mountains, burying cities under the rubble that cascaded onto their heads, but they were the lucky ones, their deaths quickly snuffed out like a candle in a hurricane. 

A clicking sound grated against Briddy’s ears, and she jolted awake in a panic as she looked around the sleeping area of her dorm. Motionless shapes lay huddled under blankets on either side of her, the girls of Honor House still tightly bundled in the last vestiges of sleep. The whirring continued, and she glanced over to see the copper mechanical arms of the Keepedish at work, spinning a white mass furiously between their pointed tips. After a few moments, they retracted into their furled state, an envelope now sitting in the depths of the bowl that the arms were attached to. 

    Blearily, Bridget reached out and scooped up the letter, her name written on the front in her mother’s flowing script. Stifling a groan, she tossed her covers aside, padding out of the dimly lit room and into the common area outside, softly closing the door most of the way behind her. Gentle rays of pale light seeped in through the large window that sat at the end of every hall in the first-yeardormitory houses, creating a path of soft yellow that stretched over furniture and walls alike. Making her way towards the sinks of the bathroom, Briddy passed a poster for Mentor Week, the bright blue paper proclaiming the start date as today and detailing different class schedules and how to go about getting a mentor. 

    “Find an older student in a course you’re interested in and ask them!” The flyer said, “If you can’t find anyone after the first day, Administration will pair you up with someone off our roster!” 

    Splashing some water onto her face, Briddy tried to wake up further, ignoring the growing dread that seemed to weigh down the folded paper she had shoved into the waistband of her pants. Her mother rarely wrote letters unless it was related to business, preferring to communicate over Shivercord and talk if possible. That she had sent a message this early in the morning… Briddy looked at herself in the mirror, at her grey eyes and mass of tawny-gold hair, currently flying every which way. Whatever her mother wanted, she doubted it was good for her. Yawning, she began running her fingers through her mess of a mane, getting a quick sip of water from the faucet and then making her way towards the orange-rose fingers of morning light. Pulling out the letter, she slid a finger under the seal and flicked it open, eyes darting over the short message within. 

Daughter, it began, and Briddy tried to ignore the flash of irritation that crackled across her brow. It wouldn’t kill Ruba to use her name, would it? 

It has come to my attention that an event at the University is about to begin, where the students of lower experience levels are mentored by those with more. So as to assure you do not stray from your intended path, your father and I have selected one for you, and you are to meet them outside of the Campus Administration before breakfast this morning. Suffice to say, your lack of communication on this matter has been noted, and your father is most displeased. Do better in the future, and make sure that you are available at the end of the week for a Shivercord communication to discuss this. 

Make the most of what time you have so generously been given.

Ruba Vasily

Briddy could feel the paper wrinkling even as she read the letters inked upon it, her fist scrunching in frustration as she heard her mother’s admonishing voice reading the words off of it. Her mentor was supposed to be her choice, not her parents, and yet here she was, being yanked along like a puppet dancing on a string. She balled the message up, slamming it into a wastebasket as she strode back into the group bedroom under a cloud, the once motionless lumps of her classmates now stirring and beginning the bustle of their morning preparations. 

A bitter taste filled her mouth, flavored with her parent’s voices and the reminder that in their eyes, she would never be enough. It remained there, stubbornly sticking to her as she pulled on her clothes and ducked into her Shroud, escaped her mouth with each frustrated breath as she tied her hair back and slipped her brother’s silver clip in. 

Pushing her way towards the front door of Honor House, Briddy tried not to look at that blue poster, swallowing the hopes she had held to find someone willing to take her under their wing and sweep her away to learn healing. What a childish dream. She pushed the thought out with a frustrated huff, shaking her head as she let the door slam shut behind her. No one would save her except herself, and before she could do that, she would have to meet whoever her parents had selected as her mentor. 

“Bridget, be quiet when leaving in the mornings.” Passing her on the path was her blue-shrouded houseminder, coming by in time to make sure everyone woke up. 

Outside, the sun beat down onto the hot sands like a smith’s hammer to metal, making the air as sweltering hot as cherry-red iron in the coals. The particles of dust from the surrounding desert had filled the air, blocking out the sun through their ochre filter and forcing the sky overhead to cast a dull orange glow over the ground, covering every building, tree, and person in its hue. Even if the wards could keep the fine powder from touching what was within the University, they could not wholly escape their influence. 

Dread growing with each step she took, Bridget approached the flat, unforgiving shape of the Administration building, looking about for her mentor and finding not a soul in sight. She tried the doors, finding them locked, which was unsurprising given the sign to their right which had them opening a couple of hours later in the day. With a small sigh, Briddy walked over to a small patch of shade cast by the building’s bulk and settled into a small, pacing loop within it while she waited. 

After only a few rotations, the tapping sound of approaching feet lifted her head, bringing a young woman to a stop in front of her, only a few paces away. Briddy examined her, a willowy girl with pale skin and long, dark hair that cascaded to her waist. She wore a Shroud in a color Briddy had only seen sparsely dotted among the students at mealtimes, a white that faded to pale yellow near the top. The girl’s face held a hooked nose, a wide jaw, and a familiar taciturn attitude that clouded its striking features. 

“Bridget.”

“Lianne.” 

    “Father said that I am to mentor you this week, to help keep you on the right path.” The older girl didn’t hide the displeasure in her voice. 

    Briddy sighed, that bitter taste growing strong in her mouth again. “I’m sorry, for what it’s worth.” 

    “Don’t be. Leading the Gilded Down means looking out for the next generation of potential guildhunters and their relics, and my father takes his duty seriously. ” 

    “Listen, if you don’t want to do this then I can just-” Briddy let the statement trail off, the dark look that the other girl shot her way more than answering whatever else she might have said. 

    “This way.” Lianne barked, spinning on her heel and marching off in the direction of the library. 

    “Breakfast?” Briddy asked, hustling after her with a wince. The heat was even angrier than before, striking her the moment she left the shade and sucking all of the moisture from her lips. Lianne didn’t reply to her question, stalking off ahead in brooding silence. They walked in silence, two silhouettes cast against the orange sand by the unrelenting gaze of the sun, each step weighing heavier as the heat stole what strength they had.    

    Lianne paused about forty paces out from the library’s murky blue glass, nudging at the sand a short way from the white stone path. She appeared to be searching for something, using her foot as a tool to poke through the particles underneath her. Suddenly she stopped, placing the foot down flat and murmuring “Strepet.” 

    With a hiss, the sand swirled around the slender girl, spiraling upwards and dispersing to reveal a hatch of dark blue metal, which Lianne crouched towards, fiddling with something near its edge. 

    “What are you…?” Briddy stopped talking as the hatch popped up, swinging to the side with a smooth motion and revealing a chute that curved down into darkness. 

    Swinging her feet into the opening, tucking her pale Shroud underneath, Lianne impatiently motioned for Bridget to join her. “We’re taking the underoads, which normally you can’t access until after a few years here, but since you’re accompanying me today, we’ll take them and avoid the heat.” With that, she shoved herself downwards, disappearing into darkness. Reluctantly, Briddy followed, sliding for what seemed like only a few seconds before neatly skidding to a stop atop a soft carpet. Lianne was already on her feet, fussing at the seams of her uniform to make sure that it sat perfectly balanced atop her bony shoulders. Looking down at where Briddy sat, gazing at her surroundings, Lianne arched a dark brow.    

    “Coming?”

    Scrambling to her feet, Bridget followed her so-called mentor as she stalked away from the landing rug in a swirling storm of flapping yellow cloth. It felt familiar somehow, from days in her childhood spent following the guildmaster’s daughter around, though they were never close. Lianne was far too bossy for Briddy’s liking, though she suspected that the girl put up with her so that she could make eyes at Adelaide. 

 Over their heads, an arched ceiling stretched almost doubly as tall as Lianne, covered in small tiles of blue, white, yellow, and orange, placed together in complex patterns that bled their way down the wall and onto the floor itself. The pattern formed diamonds underfoot, stretching off in three hallways brightly lit with glowing orbs that hovered against the walls. 

    Lianne led her down the middle, ignoring the beautiful art of the tiles and deftly battering away Briddy’s questions. 

    “What is this place?”

    “The underroads.”

    “Why have I never heard of them before?” 

    “They’re only accessible by faculty and students given express permission.”

    “How do you get permission?”

    “Be worthy of it.” Lianne came to a stop in front of a ladder and began climbing, not looking to see if Briddy still shadowed in her footsteps. At the top, she fumbled with another latch, exiting out of a hatch that was in a dark closet. As the opening closed with a hiss behind them, the square tiles of the floor shifted to cover it once more, and the bony girl exited the dark room with Bridget close behind. Outside, she saw the tell-tale signs of different classrooms bordering the walls, neatly placed beside the doors they indicated.  Pairs of students and mentors walked the hall, different colors of shrouds blending together into a beautiful, fluttering rainbow as they visited different rooms. 

    Lianne began what quickly shaped up to be the most boring tour of Briddy’s life, taking her in and out of different rooms that were almost the exact same as the ones she already took classes in. Explaining what each class did in a monotone voice, her mentor kept a placid, plodding pace for most of the duration, rarely stopping anywhere more than a few moments. 

    “After we stop into the Alchemy Labs, we’ll head over to Maistwel’s tower for today’s class.” Briddy’s guide said, her pace suddenly picking up as they reached the end of a hall of doors, and turned to walk up the stairs. Hurrying to keep up with the sudden rush, Briddy called out to Lianne’s back. “What course are you in anyway? Offensive Focus?” 

    “Mmm.” The girl replied, reaching the top of the stairs and making a sharp right-hand turn. 

    “Defensive focus?” 

    “No.” 

    “Utility? Administrative? Medical?” Bridget tried to hide the hope in her voice for the last option. 

    “Utility.” Lianne came to a sudden stop, causing Briddy to nearly crash into her “Here we are. The labs.”

    A large, long window of glass looked into a room crammed with wide work tables and various equipment, only interrupted by the wooden door that her mentor swung open before heading inside. Briddy followed, wondering when Lianne was going to give her a rundown on what was happening, and found the dark-headed girl already halfway across the room, intently walking towards a stocky young woman with dark tan skin and soft brown curls that cascaded over her shoulder. She turned as Lianne got close, a smile perking up her rosebud mouth and lighting large green eyes hidden under long lashes. Whoever this girl was, she was quite possibly one of the prettiest girls Briddy had ever seen, even with a few smudges of grease across her cheek. 

    Upon seeing Lianne, the girl bounded forward, scooping Briddy’s mentor into a hug and planting a kiss on her forehead. The two spoke in quiet tones, glancing back to where Bridget stood, shuffling around, and trying not to touch anything. 

    “Hello!” The girl who had hugged Lianne called across the room, beaming at her. “I’m Inanna, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

    Caught under the intense radiance of her smile, Briddy flushed, stammering out something that she hoped was a greeting, and receiving a small chuckle in return. The pair approached her, Lianne sticking close to Innana’s side. “Are you up for a small tour?” 

    Bridget wordlessly nodded, trying not to gawk too much as Innana took her around the room that she proclaimed ‘the communal workspace’. 

    “We all have private labs too if you show enough talent, but unfortunately mine is taken up by a rather sensitive project at the moment.” Inanna shot her another dazzling smile, sending heat shooting all of the way to the tips of Briddy’s ears. “Do you have any talent for Alchemy?” 

    “Not really,” Bridget admitted, desperately wishing in that moment that she did. “I never had the opportunity to learn much about it.” 

    “Maybe in the future.” Inanna was part of the way through turning back to Lianne, who had been silently hovering along when a thought seemed to occur. “Oh! I can show you a different lab.” She turned, making her way towards one of the four doors set into the back left wall of the communal workspace. Knocking on its wood, she waited, turning the knob and opening it up after no one replied. 

    They entered into a square room with a sloping room, a large skylight letting in rays from the sun that had now climbed almost to its zenith in the sky. Particles of dust danced through them, justifying the dusty smell that seemed to coat the air itself in a grubby film. Something about the orange light that filtered from above the grubby workshop caught Briddy’s eye, leading it along a path of shaped glass and tubes perched atop different tables, filled with different swirling liquids that hissed and spat. At the end -with his back turned to them- was the conductor of this bubbling orchestra, a young man with wild curly hair and his Shroud carelessly discarded over a chair.

He didn’t stir as they entered, his attention entirely focused upon the fizzing mixture in front of him that he was currently adding chunks of a black, chalky substance to. 

"This is Asher's space, where he makes all of his pot-" Inanna began. 

The young man stiffened, turning around as though to say something. When he saw who was there, his mouth shut, his gaze darting to meet Briddy's with bright eyes. A small smile began to play in the corner of his mouth, he said. "This one’s not a potion. It's an amalgam. Hey Briddy." 

"Morning, Asher.” She gave a small wave. 

Turning, the mop-headed boy looked at Lianne, a small frown appearing on his face as he examined her. 

“This is my mentor, Lianne.” Bridget introduced the older girl, her mentor stretching out a slim hand in acknowledgment. 

Asher’s frown deepened, a pair of dimples appearing in his cheeks. "Sorry, but I've got homework on my hands." He raised a mixture coated appendage for example. A light orange paste was clinging in large patches to his skin, yellow lights twinkling whenever it crossed the light creeping in from overhead. 

Lianne dropped her arm, and Bridget took a step backward, just to be safe. There was no point in getting whatever that was on her. 

"Judging by the faint buzzing, it might also be slightly caustic."  The fluffy-headed boy added, rotating his wrist. His tone seemed exceeding casual, as though having flesh-eating paste on oneself was a common occurrence. 

Bridget kept her eyes on the alchemist as he exited the tables and plunged his arm into a barrel of water placed against the back wall. It was the most serious she had ever seen him about anything remotely academic, though whether that was due to passion for the subject or the lack of Warrin’s influence was hard to tell. 

“What was this one supposed to be?” Innana asked. 

“A fulminating coating that explodes on contact,” Asher replied, wiping his wet arms off with a grubby rag. “Though I haven’t exactly gotten it to fulminate yet.” He tilted his head as if struck by a thought. “Fulminating, that’s such a good word. We don’t use it enough.” 

Lianne muttered something in Innana’s ear, and the girl shook her head, curls slapping against her cheek. “It’s harmless, and his Shroud will protect him if anything bad happens. It’s sweet that you’re worried for him though.” 

Two spots of color appeared high on Lianne’s cheeks as she pointedly looked away, refusing to acknowledge the comment. Briddy watched them interact, interested in this caring side to the bossy girl that she knew from childhood. 

As the week wore on, she began to see more of that version of her mentor, though it only came out whenever she was around Innana. They spent most of the free portions of their days in the Alchemy Labs, and Lianne was more than happy to deposit Briddy in Asher’s workspace before hustling off to spend time with his mentor behind closed doors. As a result, the two underclassmen spent a great deal of time with one another, which mostly consisted of Briddy keeping a safe distance away while reading a book and listening to Asher rant about random alchemical topics that she didn’t understand. Occasionally, they would talk about various things weighing on their minds, their hopes for the future, opinions on various professors, and stories about classmates.

On the final day of mentor week, she was rudely interrupted from a story about Lisal the Scarred by a loud exclamation of disgust from across the room. 

“Tar? Again? Are you kidding me!?” Asher nearly shouted, throwing his hands up in disgust. “Why is it always tar?” 

The door to his workspace opened, and Innana came bustling in, Lianne grumpily following behind. 

“Everything alright?” The stocky girl asked, looking between the two of them with a concerned expression on her face. Briddy closed her book, standing up and walking over to where Asher was grumpily pushing a large crystal beaker around with one finger. Inside, a black, sticky substance bubbled and hissed, spitting dark specks around the edges of the container. 

“It looks like very nice tar?” She offered, her voice going up at the end of the statement. It was the best comfort she could offer, given that she had no idea how the alchemical sciences worked. 

Asher looked up at her, a small pout momentarily shadowing his bottom lip. “Avoid tar in science.” He said gravely. “If anything you’re doing ends up in tar, you’re doing it wrong.” Grumpily, he shoved the container away, looking at the bubbling set of tubes and pipes in front of him that was currently dripping into an open beaker. “Well this was an excellent recipe for accursed tar, but now I have to figure out a better way to extract ashtane.” 

“What are you making?” Briddy inquired, “And what’s ashtane?” 

“Replicating.” Asher nodded towards the vessel in front of him, which bright orange fluid was slowly being dripped into. “A potion I made that enhances speed for a short period. Or turns your hands into cheese wheels. Possibly both? I’m not sure yet.” 

Inanna cut in. “Ashtane is one of the base compounds distilled from monstrosity remains. It’s a fickle ingredient even at the best of times.” She comfortingly patted Asher on the head. “You’ll get there.” 

Briddy watched her mollify the gloomy boy, a small amount of jealousy shooting through her. It must be nice to have such a helpful mentor, or even to be able to have the choice of one. Not that Lianne was all bad, but she also hadn’t done much other than give Bridget a tour. 

“Well, at least you can make things that actually do something.” She said, forcing a smile on her face as she looked down at where Asher was sitting, head resting on his arms. “I can’t even summon my relic, let alone get it to work.” 

He frowned for a moment before his head suddenly darted up, eyes racing to meet hers. “Want to try the potion?” A dare danced in their blue depths, his stormy mood seeming to lift with the promise of mischief.

    He’s trying to bait you. Something whispered inside her, but Briddy felt the pull to accept his invitation all the same. Slowly, she began reaching towards the flask of ochre liquid, not breaking eye contact as she moved. 

    “No! Nope! Absolutely not!” Lianne swatted her hand away, shaking her head. “Do not go drinking anything an alchemist offers you. It never ends well.” 

    Briddy looked to her for further explanation, but the older girl ignored her, carting her unceremoniously towards the door. “We need to leave anyways.” 

    “Don’t forget to offer!” Inanna called after them as they began to leave. 

    “Offer?” Briddy asked.

    Letting out a long sigh, Lianne paused in the doorway. “I’ll talk to Maistwel if you want. Inanna overheard you talking to Asher about the healing course yesterday, and won’t stop bugging me about it.” 

    A small flower of hope opened in Briddy’s chest, though she felt guilty at how eager she was to nod and accept the help. 

“Let’s get going then, or we’ll be late for Advanced Bestiary,” Lianne said, herding her the rest of the way out of the room. 

Neither look nor farewell acknowledged their exit, the two alchemists huddled over the orange beaker, so Bridget settled for a wave she was pretty sure Asher didn't see. Mentor week had come to a somewhat better end than she would have thought, though, without the freedom to choose, Briddy would never know what could have been.