Chapter 29: The Sailors' Guild

After gaining the support of the healers, the old man and the chronicler headed towards their last stop: the Sailors' Guild. This guild, made up of sailors, fishermen and merchants who made their living from the water, was based in the city's port. The salty sea breeze hit them before they even saw the anchored vessels, gently rocking in the waves. The port was a place of constant movement, with workers loading and unloading goods, and the sound of seagulls mingling with the murmur of conversations.

The Sailors' Guild was housed in a sturdy wooden building, with the symbol of a helm carved above the entrance. There, the atmosphere here was different from that of the other guilds. The free spirit of the sailors permeated the place, and stories of adventures and dangers on the high seas were told amid loud laughter and pats on the back.

The guild leader, a tall, thin man with sun-tanned skin and a shaggy red beard, was in the middle of one of these stories when the old man and the chronicler arrived. His sea-blue eyes sparkled with curiosity as he saw the visitors. He stood and walked toward them, his posture relaxed but his gaze sharp as a blade.

"What brings you to our corner?" the leader asked, with a smile that suggested both welcome and caution. "We don't often see outsiders here, unless they're looking for a journey."

The old man returned the smile with a respectful nod. "I've come in search of something more valuable than a journey. I'm trying to unite the city's guilds into an alliance. War is coming, and I believe that if we work together, we can protect all we have. I've spoken with the other guilds, and now I ask for the support of the sailors."

The sailor leader gave a short laugh, but not one of disdain, but of interest. "Uniting the guilds? That is no easy task, my friend. We are like ships on the high seas, each with its own route and destination. But I understand what you mean. If war comes, it will be difficult for any of us to survive alone." He paused, looking out at the sea that stretched beyond the harbor. "We sailors are as free as the wind. We value our independence, but we also know when it is time to gather in a safe harbor. If the other guilds agree, we can consider such an alliance. However, I need assurance that this will not be a chain that binds us, but an anchor that keeps us safe in the midst of the storm." The old man understood the metaphor and responded with the same frankness. "I seek to bind no one. The alliance is voluntary, but necessary. Each guild will maintain its independence, but united, we will be stronger to face the coming storm." The leader of the sailors pondered for a moment, considering the old man's words. "Very well," he said finally. "If it is to keep our routes safe and our ships intact, we will stand by the other guilds. But remember, old man: the sea is unpredictable, and so are we. As long as this alliance respects our freedom, we are in."

The old man nodded, satisfied with the answer. "I thank you for your wisdom and your support. Together, we have a chance to face what is to come."

With that, the leader of the navigators shook the old man's hand, sealing the agreement. The chronicler, watching the moment, felt a wave of relief. The mission was almost complete, and the city, for now, seemed to have a glimmer of hope.

As they left the port, the chronicler turned to the old man, his gaze full of admiration. "You did the impossible. You managed to unite them all."

"It was just the beginning," the old man replied, a slight shadow of concern on his face. "Now we need to turn this alliance into something solid, something that can withstand the challenges that lie ahead."

The chronicler nodded, realizing the gravity of the situation. War was imminent, but at least the city was better prepared to face it, thanks to the old man's tireless efforts. And so, with the mission almost complete, they headed to the city center, where the final decisions would need to be made and where the true test of the alliance would begin.