Abigail Ch 8 (Patreon)

“At least she gets to stay for the welcoming party,” Lucy mumbled.

“He probably has something important he doesn’t want her interfering with,” snapped the red-headed Miss Dapperly.

Helena was the first to come forward and congratulate both girls. She offered them each a candy, then told them she had to run back upstairs. Jess and Abigail stood with Olivia as the adults all came to shake their hands and welcome them to the guild. When everyone had said their piece, they all piled into the stairwell to go back upstairs.

Someone had put up decorations in the main hall. A big banner read, ‘Welcome Jess ~ Welcome Abigail’ in flowery letters, and strings of rope with cloth triangles in blue and white hung from the ceiling. The other guild members didn’t crowd the girls but loudly called out a cheer for the new apprentices, and Abigail and Jess were ushered to a table with their fellow apprentices.

A thin, dark-haired boy around fifteen sat reading a book, and an older girl wearing a green hat raised her mug in a toast when they reached the table.

The older girl with the hat made the introductions. “Hi, Olivia. Nice to meet you, Jess, Abigail. My name is Netta, and this here’s Christopher.”

Jess struck up an animated conversation with Netta and Olivia about how often York travelled. Abigail was perfectly content to sit between Jess and the quiet Christopher. That meant she didn’t have to join in the conversation until she could gather her thoughts.

Beer and apple cider made its way around the hall, and a big cake was brought out. The cook who presented it had short, erratic, pointy brown hair and green eyes. A scar cut through his left eyebrow. When Helena stood beside him, she came up no higher than his shoulder. She introduced him, saying, “This is the cook, Brock. He doesn’t say much.”

Brock nodded his head seriously. He cut each of them a piece of cake, then took the cake away to share with the rest of the crowd.

Abigail wasn’t used to the cheering and happy sentiment. Yesterday, she woke up alone in her rooms in the castle, and today she woke up surrounded by a guild full of boisterous people. The shock hit her harder now that she was no longer stressed about the test. Noticing her struggle, Christopher mumbled without taking his eyes off his book, “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it.”

It seemed she’d found a kindred spirit.

There was no way Abigail could remember everyone’s names, so she ate cake and drank apple cider and spoke mostly to Helena, York, Lucy and the other apprentices. Christopher was apprenticed to Laurance, who took him back to their workshop after lunch, and Netta left around the same time.

“Alright, Abigail, Jess.” Olivia pushed up her glasses. “I’m going to show you around.”

The girls entered into the stairwell so Olivia could give them a tour of the guild. She started with the library downstairs. The room was filled with more bookshelves than Abigail thought the small room could fit. Magical lanterns jutted from the shelves and cast bright light that reached every corner. Tucked away in various nooks between the shelves were cozy reading chairs with ornate side tables and a small personal lantern you could activate with a pull string.

“I already saw the library this morning,” Jess grumbled, “and it’s hardly a library without a fiction section.”

“Are these all spellbooks?” Abigail looked around at the veritable treasure trove of magical instruction manuals.

Novice Guide to Baking Emotions, How to Turn Into a Cat – and other less important animals, and A Painter’s Guide to Mixing Magical Pigment were just the first three books she saw.

Abigail’s finger’s itched to grab a spellbook and try something a real mage could do. She’d made friends with a couple of spirits over the years, but they were few and far between… and a lifetime of punishments and criticism didn’t just go away when she picked up that orb.

“Only about half are spellbooks. There are also guild records, history books, and even cookbooks.” Olivia waved at one of the reading nooks, where a pile of books and carving tools lay scattered about on a side table. “I’m working my way through them. You can find me here anytime you need me.”

Jess sighed. “I’m so happy York took me on as an apprentice. I like you, Olivia, but I’d never last down here.”

“I like you too, Jess.” Olivia smiled at the girl. “Though you know everyone eventually gets stuck down here memorising spells. After you get your powers under some control, York will drop you off for a nice long day of studying.”

Jess grumbled, “Yeah, yeah.”

“Did you ever find out why York doesn’t take apprentices?” Abigail asked.

“Nope,” Jess said, “though I did see Lucy holding his hand and whispering to him when we came down stairs.”

Olivia just shrugged. “He hasn’t had an apprentice in as long as I’ve been here.” Then she continued on and showed them the storage room filled with shelves of glass jars and weird tools that hung from the ceiling. The rest of the downstairs floor was full of individual work rooms for practice or study.

Eventually, they came back upstairs to use the bathroom, and Olivia showed them some empty meeting rooms off the main hall where the Mages Guild quarterly meeting happened. With permission from Helena, they went through the door behind the bar. On the right was Brock’s kitchen that was off limits to them, but on the left was a small kitchen that was available to anyone in the guild. The only other way to access the public kitchen space was through a door in the garden.

They didn’t have time to look at the gardens before Helena called them back for dinner.

The main hall was packed with more guild members Abigail and Jess hadn’t met before, and when the food came out, there was another party. The bards, Erik and Melody, brought out instruments and played lively music for everyone. Erik sang a crowd favourite, Ander’s Widow, and by the second verse, everyone had joined in.

Hey ho, there she goes,

Down to sit ‘neath the Old Willow.

There to sing, and there to sew,

Sweet young Ander’s Widow.

Never was a maid who kept house yet,

who’d woo the beast or tame the mule.

I’d be the luckiest man in town,

If only she’d accept this fool.

Hey ho, there she goes,

Down to sit ‘neath the Old Willow.

There to sing, and there to sew,

Sweet young Ander’s Widow.

I feel no strain, and I’m light of heart,

When I hear her voice cross Tully’s land.

I’d prefer the fieldwork to the hearth,

To hear her sing that Old Gold Band.

Hey ho, there she goes,

Down to sit ‘neath the Old Willow.

There to sing, and there to sew,

Sweet young Ander’s Widow.

Come Sunday morn in Heilig Town,

She’ll bring her mending to the square.

And I will ask her for her hand

And hope that she’ll accept me there.

Hey ho, there she goes,

Down to sit ‘neath the Old Willow.

There to sing, and there to sew,

Sweet young Ander’s Widow.

Everyone cheered. At one point, a tipsy mage named Colt jumped on a table with Miss Dapperly, and they danced till they dropped. Abigail feared for the table but figured a bunch of mages could save the furniture. Christopher joined them for dinner. He was a quiet companion at their table, sipping his cider and reading a new book. Abigail was too polite to interrupt him, but Jess had no such quibbles.

“Didn’t Master Laurance say he had three apprentices?” The blonde scooted her chair closer to Christopher and poked his shoulder. “Why do we only ever see you?”

Christopher sighed a small sigh and put down his book.

“You’ve already met them. Liam and Theresa aren’t usually around because they are almost ready to take their journeyman exams. Master Laurance has been sending them out as hired security for nobles.” He waved a hand at Abigail, and everyone at the table turned to look at her. “We wouldn’t even be here, except my master has more questions about Abigail and her test.”

“D-don’t look at m-me,” she blushed, “I haven’t had a chance t-to talk to Master Ulrik yet.”

Christopher shrugged and went to go back to reading, but Jess wasn’t done. “And what’s your magic, hm?”

“I make talismans.” He reached into a pocket and pulled out a slip of paper. With the flick of his wrist, it burst into a beautiful aquamarine glow and turned into a little swan. The bird flew around their table three times before alighting in his palm and turning back into a slip of paper. “Now, if you’ll excuse me,” he put away the slip of paper and turned back to his book, “I have homework to do.”

Jess looked like she wanted to bother him again, but Olivia took pity on Christopher and redirected her attention to Lucy. The older woman had all sorts of stories about York that she was all too happy to share.

She launched into a tale about the time York stubbed his toe so hard he lost control of his powers and froze his hand to a street pole in West Market. They couldn’t find a fire mage right away, so he’d been trapped there for hours before help arrived.

The rest of the night was uneventful. Christopher left with Master Laurance. Olivia was a bit of a night owl and went to go research books on spirit magic for Abigail. The older girl thought she’d read a book about a spirit mage in a historical text and promised to go look it up. Jess wandered upstairs to go to bed early. She’d arrived at the guild before the sun was up that morning and wanted to be well rested for her first day of lessons.

Master Fawler still hadn’t returned by the time it was dark. Abigail waited for him as long as she could, but Helena eventually shook her awake at the table and sent her up to bed as well.

She’d have to meet her mentor tomorrow.