The Runic Alchemist

Chapter 749: A Hand Raised for the Sanctum

[The City of Sanctuary – POV of a Shop owner living in the city of Sanctuary.]

Torvin Copperhand sat at the front counter of his big shop, trying to get his head into the ledger books, but his mind was just too distracted.

He was a commoner, born right in this town when it was barely established. His mother, a simple seamstress, had one of the only shops in the newborn town at that time. Back then, the town was still being built by the first Keeper, Lady Einar, and the daughter of the Elf Queen. They were still part of Ashenvale.

It was an odd thing, his mother always said—that such a town was being built in the middle of nowhere. Even the King of Ashenvale could not deny the First Keeper’s claim on the land and had to accept this one oddity in the country of tradition and discipline. The condition was that as long as Ashenvale remained, this one town would belong to Lady Einar, and she would protect all those who entered her town’s borders.

The King of Ashenvale had accepted in the hopes of roping the free transcendent to his side, but decades were gone and she never changed her decision—no matter how big the offer. This city of Sanctuary was truly the only safest place when the pride of Ashenvale had brought the wrath of the elves to their land. Even the King of Dawnstar had to go around the town, honoring the agreement of Highswords to ignore the town of Sanctuary no matter what.

Torvin had seen firsthand the growth their little town had gone through. Today, it was probably one of the biggest cities on the mainland.

However, what he had seen and heard a few days ago from the Second Keeper had him excited beyond words—added with fear of what would happen next to this city, and also confusion about the meaning of some of Lord Keeper’s words. It did not help that everyone coming to his shop or walking through the street was also discussing the same thing.

In Lady Einar’s rule, the city was stable like a rock for years. But since the lost children of the Academy had returned, becoming more powerful than anyone could have expected, their city was going through major changes every day. Gaining three transcendents at once had given their Sanctuary a level of power probably not even the other three kingdoms could match. Especially when one of them had broken all limits of power people had tied to a third ranker’s name for years. Never had there ever been a rune-shaper transcendent. No one in their wildest dreams could have thought the crafting class had such overwhelming might at the top. The Morph Vialist was famous though, way before he transcended.

The Runebreaker had ended the war in a week after he took over as the Keeper of Sanctuary. All stories Torvin heard from the soldiers felt like fantasy tales of old legends and heroes. Punched the fearsome revived Chaos Dragon so hard—the monster could not get up again till it died. If one soldier said it, Torvin wouldn’t believe it, but when all of them said the same thing—it was stupid not to believe.

Especially after Torvin had seen the giant figures of the six rulers of Sanctuary with his own eyes.

And that man had promised to take the seventh ruler of the Sanctuary from the mundane people of Sanctuary.

“Copperhand! Busy scribbling your numbers again? When will you accept that you are old now and you have already made too much money!” a voice called out to Torvin as two middle-aged men walked from the busy street and entered his store.

Torvin smiled, “Not everyone is blessed with generational wealth like you now, are they?”

Torvin gestured to one of the dozens of people working in his shop to take over the counter as he got up from the comfortable chair and joined his two friends in their daily evening walks.

They were a strange trio of friends. One was a retired knight who had fought in the war against the Empire from Dawnstar’s side and had lived to tell the tale—Sir Baelen Flamehand. Another was a man who had been a well-known blacksmith once but was now retired, as his sons handled the shop and he enjoyed the wealth he had made—Bramden.

And the last was Torvin himself, a commoner—just like Bramden. He had built this shop with his own hands, going through hardship and fortune’s cycle to today have one of the biggest shops in the city of Sanctuary—located in the main market at that.

“Half the people left, huh?” Torvin asked as they left the busy street and picked up another, more quieter one.

“Yeah,” Sir Baelen replied, “Looks like the final wave has left too now. Half the House of Lords is empty now.”

“Not many sold their houses, did they?” Bramden asked.

“Of course not,” Sir Baelen replied again, “Leaving everything behind without seeing the land and its potential would be stupidity. Though I would not put that too far behind my fellow lords of Dawnstar.”

“Still, the difference is noticeable..” Torvin commented, “I hoped the new Keeper would make some efforts to keep them here, and not divide the city like this.”

Sir Baelen shook his head, “No, this is good. You have not been there, so you don’t realize how divided they already were in the House of Lords. Lady Souldealer has made an excellent decision choosing the Sanctuary over the last stubborn remnants of Dawnstar.”

“Do you think Lord Keeper being a Sunblade would have anything to do with this swift decision?” Bramden wondered aloud.

“We have five transcendents, even if we lost, which I highly doubt—and the stories are to be believed of their strength. Our five third rankers have more than enough power to win over the whole of the Empire. Just the advantage of Lord Keeper’s waygates would give us such an advantage in the war, no country other than maybe Sea Snake would be out of his hands.” Sir Baelen analyzed.

“But he won’t do it. He even exchanged the Hellstorm and others for Faerunians to leave all land they had conquered using the demon’s invasion.” Torvin said, “He could have asked for all that land in exchange, but instead he gave that back to the Dragon Emperor and used it to sign a hundred-year peace treaty for everyone.”

“Since the day the Sunblades sold him to Goldilocks, he has never even looked back once. No revenge, no need to show his overwhelming strength and win them over.. or their ancestral seat.” Sir Baelen said, “Whatever one might say about the boy, he has shown the temperament of a veteran even as a kid. Now that is a man worth following.”

“I was thinking about that too.. What do you guys think about me trying to join the House of Lords?” Torvin finally asked it. It was a thing his mind just could not let go ever since the Lord Keeper had said it.

This city had given him and his mother a lot of things. His mother had come to this town to look for new opportunities, and the land had provided it—not just for her but for his own expansion of business afterwards. Torvin donated 25% of his profit every year to feed the poor and give them the opportunity to make something of themselves in this city. But that was not enough. Just giving money was lazy. Torvin was 40 years old—and he wanted to do something real for the city.

He always blamed his misfortune for not having a chance to become a Pathfinder¹—as a mundane he could not fight for the Sanctuary. Joining the battle as a mundane was not as effective as earning money and providing support to the war efforts using most of that money. His eagerness to help Sanctum officials whenever he could was a major reason behind his shop’s growth.

The two friends of his stopped in the middle of the street, turning their heads to look at Torvin—the one in the middle. Then spoke at once.

“You too?” Bramden said.

“I was about to say you should try it..” Sir Baelen said with a smile. “You are the perfect person for the job. You know the people of Sanctuary better than anyone. Bramden would also be a good candidate.”

“I am not fit though. If the Lord Keeper’s requirement asked for fighting abilities—I would fail in the first round.” Torvin laughed at the thought.

“No,” Bramden denied, “One of the Sanctum officials lives near my house. The lass was saying Lord Keeper might ask for the ability to read and write and then a little test to see how a man thinks—the rest will be decided by what area one lives in or something like that. She was not sure.”

“Yes, that would indeed make sense.” Sir Baelen agreed, “For the House of Lords, being a warrior is not necessary. It’s more about ideas and solutions they can provide—those were the exact words I heard him say once. It was late night, and the Keeper was having dinner alone in the mess-hall. Many of us late-night knights and lords had quite a good chat with him.”

“Being able to read and write, on the other hand, would be a very needed skill as a member of the House of the Lords.” Torvin concluded.