artificial world rose gently up in the slope of the cylinder. From where he stood in the trees outside the atrium, he could see the entirety of the segment – there was no horizon, only a slight misting of water vapor in the air as he looked across or down the cylinder and the brilliant light of the central spire made it hard to see directly across the cylinder.
Five kilometers long and fourteen hundred meters in diameter, the Spindle represented more square footage than many cities in the MidWorlds, and much of it was covered in greenery. A neat grid of roads split the surface into blocks, and rarely did he see more than two blocks together of houses or industry. It was so unlike the compressed corridors in the many rotating rings of Sherwood Prime that it took Damien a long minute of standing in the shade of the trees to wrap his head around the sight.
Damien start ed walking down the LengthWay, looking for signs to tell him the numbers of the CircleWays that crossed it. It took him a few minutes to leave the cultured forest the Corinthians’ had chosen to wrap around the entrances from the civilian docks, and that was when he saw the building.
The trees had blocked his view of it before, but now he wasn’t sure how he’d missed it . The structure rose in blocks of black iron, softened somewhat by trees growing in terraces atop the blocks, but it remained a sprawling fortress in the middle of one of the more spectacular stations built by man.
A tiny whirring noise caused Damien to turn and spot the promised cab – a low slung vehicle with a cloth cover and two seats behind its driver.
“Can I give you a lift?” the driver asked.
“ Sure,” he answered. “I need to get to the Jump Mage’s Guild.”
The driver’s gaze flicked down at Damien’s collar, then he spat over the side. “Sure,” he said flatly. “We don’t call it the Guild though, here.”
“What?” Damien asked quickly.
The driver pointed at the fortress Damien had been staring at.
“Mages don’t trust us lot not to burn their homes down around their ears,” he said bluntly. “They built that thing when the Spindle was finished. It’s the home of your Guild, but we just call it the Citadel.”
#
Security at the Guildhouse Citadel seemed lower than the cab-driver’s words and its fortress-like structure suggested. The gates in the artfully concealed fence that surrounded the fortified compound were wide open, and foot traffic passed in and out in a slow but steady stream.
Passing through those gates, though, Damien spotted the two men just inside who were all the security the Guildhouse needed. Both were clad in dark robes over matte-black combat armor, and the gold medallions at their throats bore a single sword, compared to Damien’s three stars and a quill. His three stars marked him as a Jump Mage. Their sword marked them as Enforcers, the police officers of the Guilds, and the only fully combat-trained Mages outside of the Mage-King’s military.
Those two men could stand off an entire battalion of conventionally armed troops, at least for long enough to close the gates. For all that efforts had clearly been made to soften the appearance of the Citadel with the trees and gardens, they were still being very careful.
The thought was sobering as Damien entered the main hall, looking for the sign to direct him to the Ship Mage’s Guild. Corinthian was a major MidWorld, hardly one of the UnArcana worlds where Mages weren’t allowed to set foot on the surface, but the Guilds here clearly felt threatened.
With a shake of his head, he stepped into the Ship Mage’s Guild office, relaxing slightly in the surroundings of the dozens of plants they’d used to soften the stark angles of the building’s walls. A single desk stood in the middle of the room, with no one waiting to see the older woman sitting at the desk.
“Can I help you?” she greeted him bluntly.
“ I’m here to register a Jump Contract,” he replied,
Five kilometers long and fourteen hundred meters in diameter, the Spindle represented more square footage than many cities in the MidWorlds, and much of it was covered in greenery. A neat grid of roads split the surface into blocks, and rarely did he see more than two blocks together of houses or industry. It was so unlike the compressed corridors in the many rotating rings of Sherwood Prime that it took Damien a long minute of standing in the shade of the trees to wrap his head around the sight.
Damien start ed walking down the LengthWay, looking for signs to tell him the numbers of the CircleWays that crossed it. It took him a few minutes to leave the cultured forest the Corinthians’ had chosen to wrap around the entrances from the civilian docks, and that was when he saw the building.
The trees had blocked his view of it before, but now he wasn’t sure how he’d missed it . The structure rose in blocks of black iron, softened somewhat by trees growing in terraces atop the blocks, but it remained a sprawling fortress in the middle of one of the more spectacular stations built by man.
A tiny whirring noise caused Damien to turn and spot the promised cab – a low slung vehicle with a cloth cover and two seats behind its driver.
“Can I give you a lift?” the driver asked.
“ Sure,” he answered. “I need to get to the Jump Mage’s Guild.”
The driver’s gaze flicked down at Damien’s collar, then he spat over the side. “Sure,” he said flatly. “We don’t call it the Guild though, here.”
“What?” Damien asked quickly.
The driver pointed at the fortress Damien had been staring at.
“Mages don’t trust us lot not to burn their homes down around their ears,” he said bluntly. “They built that thing when the Spindle was finished. It’s the home of your Guild, but we just call it the Citadel.”
#
Security at the Guildhouse Citadel seemed lower than the cab-driver’s words and its fortress-like structure suggested. The gates in the artfully concealed fence that surrounded the fortified compound were wide open, and foot traffic passed in and out in a slow but steady stream.
Passing through those gates, though, Damien spotted the two men just inside who were all the security the Guildhouse needed. Both were clad in dark robes over matte-black combat armor, and the gold medallions at their throats bore a single sword, compared to Damien’s three stars and a quill. His three stars marked him as a Jump Mage. Their sword marked them as Enforcers, the police officers of the Guilds, and the only fully combat-trained Mages outside of the Mage-King’s military.
Those two men could stand off an entire battalion of conventionally armed troops, at least for long enough to close the gates. For all that efforts had clearly been made to soften the appearance of the Citadel with the trees and gardens, they were still being very careful.
The thought was sobering as Damien entered the main hall, looking for the sign to direct him to the Ship Mage’s Guild. Corinthian was a major MidWorld, hardly one of the UnArcana worlds where Mages weren’t allowed to set foot on the surface, but the Guilds here clearly felt threatened.
With a shake of his head, he stepped into the Ship Mage’s Guild office, relaxing slightly in the surroundings of the dozens of plants they’d used to soften the stark angles of the building’s walls. A single desk stood in the middle of the room, with no one waiting to see the older woman sitting at the desk.
“Can I help you?” she greeted him bluntly.
“ I’m here to register a Jump Contract,” he replied,
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