Lament of the Slave

Chapter 97: Care to Dance?

"When you signed up, I promised to get you to Class Evolution, and I will." The City Guards Captain said with enough emphasis to make it clear she meant it. "It's not going to happen tomorrow or in a week. It will take months and possibly more for you to reach it. You know best how long it took you to get where you are."

"Years," the white-haired young woman muttered, vex at the fact, then adding quickly, "Ma'am."

"Exactly, years," Rayden nodded. "So don't expect miracles."

Miracle, Deckard called me that once or twice, though for a very different reason. Still, it only took me over a year to get where I was. Was that so unusual? Granted, people were not willing to suffer 24/7. Oh, sorry 26/12. Yeah, as I found out, a week was 12 days long in Eleaden, or at least in Sahal, and every one of them had a unique name. Weird, huh?

Captain paused for a moment, letting her words sink in before continuing. "Each of your classes requires a unique approach to leveling. You may think it's just the baking of bread you hate, the keeping of accounts that drives you mad, or the magic you've been ostracized for using. It's not!" She motioned to me. "Look at Grey here. Do you think she got to that level with just a collar around her neck? No! She found a way around it, and that's what we need to do with you and your classes, find training suitable for each of you." She paused as the bull terran had something to say. "Yes?"

"That goes for me too, ma'am?" he asked cautiously.

"Even for you, Ironhoof," she said firmly, then looked at all of us. "I'll tell you what I'm trying to get into the heads of all my city guards. Classes are not as straightforward as you think." Her eyes moved back to the bull terran. "You're a mage. To get stronger, you just have to use magic. It's that simple, right? What if I told you the best way is knitting?"

Knitting? I tried to imagine what it could do for a mage. Did knitting have anything to do with mana? Controlling it? Nah, I knew too little.

"Seriously?" blurted out the white-haired woman, adding 'ma'am' only after realizing her blunder.

Rayden smirked. "I knew a mage who believed it, and a fucking powerful mage he became. The point isn't to get you all knitting, though. It's your attitude. You, Breadbaker, straight-up thought I was bullshitting you. Welkes found it funny, and Ironhoof is torn about what to think. Only Grey considered how this might benefit the mage."

Bloody hell, thanks for singling me out. Now the white-blonde was giving me an annoyed look, and the other two didn't look friendly either.

"I say this because you need to open your minds," she said, growing serious. "I'll help you, you're here to make city guards. That doesn't mean I'm going to lead you by the hand. I don't need blind sheep who just follow orders and can't think for themselves."

"Ma'am?" asked Walkes, the wannabe-elf, if he could speak, and at a nod from the Captain, he continued. "How can we measure up to the warriors?"

"You think they have it easier?'' She asked back, and the trio nodded, some with a grumble. I knew better. The gruesome death of the moss-eaten pair was still vivid in my mind. All those Shadowbreakers and mercenaries died because of their profession.

"Do you think I got where I am because my class allows me to swing the sword easier?" None of the trio dared to argue. "I don't know how many times I put my life on the line. It's become my bread and butter. Tell me, does a baker have to risk her life? Is accounting a dangerous job?" She paused, leaving the question hanging for a moment before continuing. "Don't get me wrong. I'm not looking down on you or your class, by no means. You just have to understand that everything has a price. Most people see the powerful people, envy their wealth, but have forgotten the scores of the dead who were not so lucky. Tell Welkes how many bookkeepers have died doing their jobs?"