During that winter, Ferris didn’t take on many jobs that called her farther away than the next town. There were too many new responsibilities she had to master at once and she didn’t feel like wandering out in the cold.

One afternoon, she took it open herself to teach some of the Borough’s history. The class was made of an odd group of students: Some of them were members of the guild and others were children that had wandered in in want of something to do, all huddled together in the common room. She did her best to tell them the story in the same, easy-to-digest way as her master taught it to her.

“In the beginning, the Boroughs was hardly more than a patch of land marking the divide between the Human and Monster Kingdoms,” she explained, “and like many other stretches of wilderness, it became a sanctuary for those who wanted to escape the feud between the two races. One of the members of this early community was the mage Arnaud, our guild’s founder.

“During his lifetime, the invading forces of our neighbors to the East had unified. This alliance allowed them to overwhelm Ebott’s own, scattered numbers. It wasn’t long before they took advantage of the divide between our people, snaking their way to the heart of Ebott in a series of small conquests. After a point, their forces had pushed so far inland that any communication between the Human and Monster Kingdom was severed. Even if our ancestors had wanted to fight on a united front, they couldn’t.”

A young, long-haired rabbit raised his hand, “How come they let it get that bad?”

“Territorial conflicts have marred out entire history,” she said, “Even back when we were just a vast number of clans separated by mountains and valleys alone, Ebott saw plenty of in-fighting. Compared to all of that, I guess you could say that our ancestors didn’t think those outside forces were a problem until they came knocking on their own doors.”

She then picked up where she left off, “However, from living in the wilds, people like Arnaud knew of hidden routes to and from the Two Kingdoms. The same paths that allowed them to avoid capture by the people they once fled from also allowed them to skirt around the invaders. They snuck messages between our armies and set ambushes in the cliffsides.

“During these missions, Arnaud was able to observe a wide range of spells and battle strategies from the people he met. He copied whatever he saw to increase his strength as a mage.”

“But people were still scared of mages,” interrupted someone from the back of the group.

Ferris nodded. “Just like today, there were some people who called him and other mages demons, or cursed beings, for possessing the combined power of magic with an already resilient physical body. Nevertheless, Arnaud put his life on the line in order to approach the Two Kings and make them see eye-to-eye; that only a unified Ebott would push our attackers back. Whether they came to accept him as a human with magical talent, a magical soul in a human body, or merely as a wise man, they inevitably agreed to use him and the early people of the Boroughs as their official mediators.

“Once the invaders were driven off, Arnaud was granted full permission to travel where he pleased in the Monster Kingdom and offered a title by the King of Humans as rewards for his efforts. Instead, he and his companions negotiated for the Boroughs to exist as an independent territory in exchange for their continued service. The tapestry you’ve seen hanging in the foyer illustrates the day that agreement was made—and those of us from the guild have worked to uphold it ever since.”

 As some of her audience left to take a closer at the tapestry, the young woman figured that that was as good a stopping point as any. She wrapped up the lesson in a few, brief sentences and dismissed those that still hung about. Maybe she wasn’t as skilled or as detailed a storyteller as Valda was, but she hoped it was a decent first try. 

"Ferris."

It was Dom. He peered inside the common room and waved her over with a letter in-hand. Seeing it alone gave the seer a bad feeling. She could count the number of times she’d received mail on her fingertips, and each one of those times had been nothing short of a chore.

Her eyes narrowed at the letter’s wax seal: A tree that’s branches sprawled out in the shape of Mt. Ebott, its roots knotted in a wide heart pattern. It was the emblem of the Human Kingdom. As ancient as the Monster Kingdom's Delta Rune, it symbolized how the people thrived upon and would one day return to Ebott's soil—distinguishing themselves as people of the earth. 

The majordomo waited for her to read it. In accordance with the Borough’s neutral position, transparency was a must. Anything that the Arnaud Guild received from either of the Two Kingdoms’ nobility was treated as an official document with very few exceptions.

‘To Ferris of the Arnaud Mages Guild, Crown Prince Denver Fanya,’ it began, ‘On behalf of my family, I wish to express congratulations toward your recent promotion. However, knowing that it comes with the burden of such great loss, I hope that you will also accept our deepest condolences. Your predecessor, Madame Valda, was truly a person of honor, and I am certain her absence shall be felt across the Two Kingdoms.

‘There is no need to respond to my message. I only hope that it finds you in good health, and I ask that you pass on my sympathies to Guildmaster Tobius and the other guild Heads as well.  

‘I have been informed that you shall be attending this summer’s Meeting of Olives, alongside one other proxy. I too shall be attending in my father’s, King Gerard Fanya’s, stead. Perhaps that shall be the earliest we see one another, for duty keeps me here in the capitol. I trust that you will be most prepared and represent our Land of Ebott well.

‘I shall patiently await our meeting. Until then, may your heart find peace just as your master does in our Lord’s embrace.’

The young woman placed a hand to her temple. There was nothing particularly wrong with the letter’s content. From an outsider’s perspective, it would seem warm, yet mostly formal. The trouble was that he shouldn’t have reached out to her at all: He should have written to the Guildmaster instead.

She had neither honor nor title. Before her apprenticeship, she had merely been another one of his subjects. Anyone would question why he’d write to her directly. They didn’t have the luxury of being young and foolish either, as they could somewhat excuse themselves as being with their first letters. It was a habit she’d come to expect from Prince Denver though, as much as she wished he’d grow out of it.

“My father has ordered me to befriend you,” he’d announced during their first meeting, back when she and Valda had been summoned to the capitol. “I think I’d like to, but not for quite the same reasons. You’ll help me put on a show for him, won’t you?”

His blunt honesty had taken her by surprise, especially since he was rather good with his words. At the time, she’d found it refreshing. Since then, however, his attempts to stay close had just been another sea of troubles for Ferris to navigate through. Any reply that she gave to his—thankfully sparse—letters had to be thoroughly reviewed and rewritten. She had to be friendly without forgetting her station or being too friendly or subservient that it appeared an Arnaud mage was cozying up to a Fanya.

Ferris wondered if the problem would get better or worse when Denver took the throne, which she supposed wouldn’t be too many years from now. King Gerard’s health was in decline and his only other heir was due to wed in a foreign land soon enough. She thought about what her guildmates had told her about King Asgore and wondered if he’d be just as troublesome.

At least the crown prince had given her an out for once. If he said she didn’t need to answer, making a point to even reference their next meeting, then she wouldn’t. She gave the letter back to Dom for filing.

“It’s all part of the job,” he told her, seeing her weary expression.

She clicked her tongue in agreement, then turned away to collect the materials she’d brought out for the day’s lesson.

Considering the letter a little more, Ferris thought it was a bit too soon for Prince Denver to have sent it. It hadn’t been that long since Madame Valda’s passing—not long enough anyway for the news to have travelled so far and for him respond to it.

Do the Fanyas have someone watching the Boroughs? If they did, it wouldn’t have shocked her: Although frowned upon, planting spies was a reasonable action for either of the Two Kingdoms. Unless Tobius and the others were still keeping a close eye on him, Castellar no doubt talked about the guild’s activities when he wrote to his family. And the mages that had tried to kidnap her early on in her apprenticeship had been from one of the three guilds that served the Fanyas:

The Ironheart Guild mostly acted as support for the army, applying their magical talents to the battlefield. The Morrigan Guild focused on research and development, particularly into crimson magic—although Valda had always described them as “a bunch of fools pretending to be geniuses and philosophers.” Lastly, the Evora Guild dominated the creation and distribution of potions across the Human Kingdom. Each one was backed by and under the direct command of the crown, and most mages likely thought it was a dream come true to work for any of them and be granted a station they could otherwise never hope for.

Still, the mages of Arnaud’s felt no shame in calling themselves the best. The only reason they hadn’t gone after any of the three in the same way they’d punished Castellar and his father was because they couldn’t prove which guild the attempted kidnappers came from or if the royal family was involved. The guildmaster only managed to discover that they were small fry from the capitol.

Unless they were given a strong reason to react, spies were something that the members of Arnaud’s ultimately had to tolerate. So long as they kept their guard up, it was a small price to pay for maintaining their autonomy. If they didn’t allow that much, their critics would just whine and bicker openly over their every action.

“Have any interesting jobs turned up?” she asked Dom as she followed him into the foyer.

“Not today,” the tough-looking boar planted himself behind his desk with a grunt. He tossed the letter onto its messy surface, then glared across the room to the mass of youngsters still hanging around the tapestry. “If you keep these up, do you mind holding you next lesson outside?”

Ferris made a pointed glance at the frost-covered window and smirked, “Not anytime soon, no.”

Dom prepared to fire some retort back at her only for one of the children to sneak around his desk and begin peeking at his paperwork. Ferris was certain the little one couldn’t read, but the fact alone that he was messing was messing with Dom’s organized chaos was enough to upset the majordomo. He began barking for anyone who wasn’t a guild member to leave, only for the children to giggle and scamper around him.

Honestly, they should’ve counted their lucky stars. Dom was far stricter on the guild’s students than he was anyone else. Knowing this, both they and Ferris slipped away while they had the chance.

As she walked by the laboratory, she looked inside to find Ciara studying hard in a group of four students split into pairs. They seemed to be experimenting different chemical reactions on rocks. The duo across from her sister though appeared more interested in mixing together whatever they could when Crococus’ back was turned.

It wasn’t long before their clumsy concoction started to hiss with an acidic burn. Bubbles spilled out from the flask, across the table, and onto the floor. The two clowns fumbled in place, panicked and with their arms stretched out toward the mess. Jaw-shaped patterns of bullets snagged them by their wrists and pinned them to the table to keep them from causing any more trouble. Crococus glowered at them dangerously. Ferris chuckled from her throat and kept moving.

More peaceful and entertainingly turbulent days would follow. The winter holidays came and went, and soon enough it was late January—when the guild would receive some unexpected, though not entirely unwelcome company.