A Spellwarden’s Duty – Part 2

“And what would you have me do with this report?” Platon said to Londriel. The First Guardian of Arrecife was the Leader of the Spellwardens in the region and her direct superior. He had been very clear about the Seeker keeping a low profile while the dust of her trial settled. Now, in his office at the Akhenza Headquarters, the Seeker was being chastised for doing the exact opposite of what she had been ordered.

“Justice, sir,” Londriel answered him curtly.

The First Guardian scoffed. He was fuming now, trying to control himself but letting his frustration seep into every word. Londriel didn’t blame him. Only a few hours ago, she had turned what was supposed to have been a discreet investigation into a very public brawl. When the guards tried to stop Londriel from performing what she considered to be her duty, both they and the facility had suffered severe damage before other Spellwardens arrived on the scene to pacify the situation.

Londriel faced the First Guardian stoically as he answered her remark. 

“Justice is not Akhenza’s duty to the Conclave, Londriel; nor is it yours. And what justice do you speak of, anyway? What laws have been broken that would justify your actions?” He shook his head despairingly. “Perhaps you could have made the case that the Strabus family has defrauded the Spheres, but of course, that was before Rafio “tripped down the stairs and shattered both of his arms”, as your report so colorfully puts it. Even if that was the case, I will remind you that their crimes would not fall within our jurisdiction as Spellwardens.”

Londriel scoffed now, despite herself. It was a foolish gesture, given the circumstances. Even as a Seeker, she was walking on thin ice, and could ill afford to gain enemies within her own Sphere. Her lapse did not go unnoticed by Platon. He did not scream at her, as she might have expected, but his tone made it clear he had run out of patience.  

“Did their use of Liastrum endanger citizens of the Conclave, their properties, or their apprentices? No. Did they violate the ban on undue and dangerous research? Again, NO. Distasteful as their actions may have been, they were not illegal in any way that would give you the authority to rain spellfire upon that facility!” he spat. “Being a Legacy bearer may give you the power to do so, but not the right! Do you know how much damage you have caused? What will we do when the patrons of the facility come to collect from our Sphere on that debt?”

“To do so, they would have to present themselves and take responsibility for the children, sir,” Londriel replied. 

“Loathe it as we may, those children were there under the authority of their parents, each and every one of them gainfully employed. The underground operation was hidden from our records, which is—I’ll grant you—illegal, but the punishment for such a crime is merely a fine. Those children are not citizens of the Conclave, not even apprentices—”

“Precisely, sir; they were not apprentices,” said Londriel, levelly. 

“What the hell do you—”

“Under Article Four of the Apprenticeship Statutes,” she continued, cutting him off, “‘no unnenlighted shall be permitted to learn the secrets of Liastrum, or manipulate it without the express sponsorship and guidance of a Master in good standing with the Council of the Nexi.’ The same Article is expanded on by a later resolution that states, ‘Exceptions to Article Four can be made when Liastrum is to be used as an element of the construction of a Magical Artifact, or when it is used outside of an Apprenticeship setting, for any purpose other than spellcasting, but still must remain under the supervision of a Master, as long as such acts are of benefit to the Conclave or its goals.’ Now if we consider—”

“What does that have to do with anything, Londriel?” Platon interrupted, his eyes wide with anger.

“The children were casting spells, sir.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“They were manipulating Liastrum without the use of an external apparatus,” Londriel said, “which under the Conclave Bylaws is considered crude spellcasting, but spellcasting nonetheless. It means they do not fall under the exceptions of Article Four of the Apprenticeship Statutes, nor are they official apprentices to any Master. They were in violation of Conclave Law that clearly falls within our jurisdiction, as they were manipulating Liastrum outside the established legality of the Conclave.” It was a stretch, but it was technically true.

“The children were in violation, Londriel?” Sheer incredulity marked his voice now. “Would you have us arrest them? Would you have them killed for their crime?”

“Since they are not citizens, it is technically not a crime, just a violation, sir. It falls to the First Guardian responsible for the region to decide the sentence. I suggest the application of the minimum penalty, which would be a ten-year ban on any work involving Liastrum and a restriction of the possibility of apprenticeship.”  

Platon took a deep breath, a vein bulging on his forehead, his skin burning red now. “Spellwarden, was this your plan all along?”

“No, sir. But it is now.”

Londriel took a breath before continuing. “We can establish a precedent. I can accept that the Council will never make what I witnessed today illegal, but if we can ensure it is not profitable, perhaps the practice will stop. No one will ever make such small gauntlets as required for children, for the cost would be too high, nor will a Master ever claim such a young child as an Apprentice and take responsibility for them. We can make a difference here, sir.” She met his gaze, holding it steady. “Please.”

With some effort, the First Guardian visibly calmed himself. He issued a long sigh before walking around his office, stopping at the window to look out at the sea, perhaps in the direction of Quinvala. The moment stretched. Londriel dared not break the silence. 

After a moment, Platon turned to face her with pity in his eyes, as if he understood the path ahead of her would crush her spirit, as it had done his long ago. 

“You cannot stop the turning of the wheel, Londriel, no matter how hard you try.”

“Maybe not, sir,” she said, defiant to the last “But perhaps I can break the wheel altogether.”