by Philip Read
I look at Sachi as he converses with his friends and family happily around the fire. Smiling and laughing between sips of ale and mouthfuls of meat.
I can see his trauma, his fragility. I remove my sash but keep my hood up, hiding my eyes but seeing all still. The moment my eyes fall on him he turns sharply and looks back.
I really need to learn how to see without being seen, but most swords are double edged for a reason. I can see his injury, the injury of his soul. Almost half his soul was surgically sheared off, but it’s not gone.
He carries it on his lap in a satin sash and I smile at the sight. The man that carries half his soul in his hands. It has a nice ring to it.
I’m still not sure what people see in me when I look this deep within them but it’s probably not good judging by their reactions.
“May I see the rest of your soul?”
I say before thinking better of the wording as a result everyone around the fire goes silent. Not my intention but I quickly change my wording to forestall any questions.
“May I see your sword?” I ask instead.
Hoping not everyone heard me or they don’t understand that his soul is literally in that thing.
“This old thing?” He says tapping the sash reverently. “It doesn’t like being touched by other people really.”
“Phrrff.” I snort before I can stop myself. His word choice gets a few curious glances from everyone except Divina and Damage. So it isn’t a big secret then.
“What was that reaction about?” Sachi asks with a slight smile. I always liked this kid as well, he and his family have been good to me.
“It’s just that your statement is far from accurate. That thing on your lap is very vain, and if it could, it would be preening itself for all to see right now.”
He raises an eyebrow, half in disbelief half in astonishment. He looks at me though, and whatever he sees doesn’t cause him to crumble, start confessing all his past wrongs, fall in love or stab his eyes out.
The reaction changes from person to person and on my feelings towards the person at the time. Sachi seems to believe me though as he unwrapped the clothe slowly.
He now has the undivided attention of everyone present. The only sound audible being breathing and the cracking logs in the fire. The first visible thing is the handle and guard. Lovingly made by a master of over a hundred years at the craft. The beauty and patient detail that has gone into carving those patterns on the guard unquestionable. I can almost understand it, for it is a script, a name.
The handle is a very strange mixture of sanded iron, steel and crushed gemstones tightly wrapped in a red and black clothe to hide the great wealth in the long handle, but also for functionality. The wrapping may look decorative in its beauty but along with the rough sanding on the iron it ensures that he will never lose his grip.
The sheath is exposed next and shines darkly even during the night. Reflecting the fire and the light from the moon. Not a weapon for stealth this. When he continues uncovering he gets a few raised eyebrows.
This thing is the length of a greatsword, a very difficult weapon to master. But very deadly from horseback or when dealing death in a battlefield. Not so much for duels.
He passes it to me reluctantly, placing it on my lap. I look, and I touch. I know the sword and it knows me. I see Sachi’s soul but it has changed, grown, evolved, adopted, explored different facets of itself. I wonder if we could all reshape part of our souls this way.
But though it may be his soul, it is it’s own entity. Alive, unique, but a child. A child growing rapidly, but a child none the less. It gets slightly heavier, not liking my assessment.
I grin, a spoilt petulant child at that. I look to Sachi looking at the shadows of my hood.
“You shouldn’t let her bully you Sachi. She needs a stronger hand if she is ever to respect you.”
“Her?” He asks leaning forward with interest.
“You should talk to her more my boy. Get to know each other better, all relationships as close and as permanent as yours need constant communication.”
He nods respectfully. “I will.”
I pass him back his companion. “Unsheathed her, she will sulk for a while without blood but she will get over it. Especially if you dance with her.”
“Dance?”
“Dance.” I say with surety. The boy looks around at our audience. Nods, then moves a yard away before unsheathing her to the sound of the air screaming in protest as it’s cut.
The ringing sound echoing beautifully through the night. Then his dance of death begins without preamble.
Chapter 10
Asriel
“How is she?”
Zhen asks as soon as I walk into the beautifully designed home. The style is very much in line with the rest of the modest houses within this district of the budding city.
Modest by the standards of what I know about master magicians, but luxurious by the tribesmen’s standards.
I smile at his concern and stern fatherly look. I ignore the question with a bow to the beautiful Crysta, still more watchful than talkative.
“The beautiful Crysta, I am delighted to see you again. And you have made such a lovely home here.”
She grins at the last comment.
“Thank you, I chose this one myself. Still not done laying the wards deep enough to permanently seep into the stones, but that’s a project that will take a few more years.” She says with a smile. Hooking her arm into mine and leading me to a kitchen table.
“I brought you some new tea’s to try for your collection.” I say as I’m seated and seeing her going for the pot.
“Really?” She says with a sparkle in her eye, wringing her hands together eagerly. I grin at the silently grumbling Zhen.
The man lives with such a curvy, well endowed beauty and hardly gives her the proper attention. Maybe some of the tribesmen have been, but from what I know of them they aren’t very possessive unless mated.
I pass a pouch of one of my favourite tea’s from the Hito people. They hardly bat an eye at my use of a storage ring. Something that was almost unheard of barely three years ago.
“Any special way to brew it?”
“No, the usual way seems to work fine for me.” I say looking at her shapely behind as she turns away.
Breaking my Chastity seems to have broken a dam within me. Something I discovered frustratingly enough, when I no longer had any access to dryad’s to sate my lusts on.
I am hyper-aware of beautiful women now, breasts, behinds, legs, arms, hair. It’s all very distracting, but my mental acuity means I will never be ruled by my body.
I look to Zhen, still glaring and losing his patience fast I notice as small lightning creatures start circling the table silently.
“How have you been these few years old man?” I ask Zhen, who is even older than I am. Over 200 years according to Mira, who talked about him constantly.
“I’m doing fine, as you can see we’ve all been busy while you went gallivanting with my disciple.” He grumbles.
I nod sagely, understanding his worry. We don’t know each other all that well even though we’ve fought together. Probably the only reason he’s being so polite so far.
“What have you been doing for fun these days?” I ask leaning back in the chair.
I’m already used to the Hito mats or seating pillows. I now realise I prefer than to straight backed chairs.
“I’ve been writing a book actually.” He says as Crysta brings the tea kettle and cups on a tray. Everything I’ve seen so far is beautifully done with patterns painted or carved.
Even the kitchen table is gilded in what I assume is bronze. A heavy metal, but very beautiful when shined. Zhen takes a sip of the tea, pauses and nods vigorously before taking a longer sip.
“What is it you’ve been writing about?”
“The history of the tribes.” He says between sips.
“Can you believe they have no written language?” He asks affronted.
“I’ve heard this.” I say, smiling at Crysta’s pleased reaction to the tea.
“Well I couldn’t stand it. Oral histories have a bad habitat of changing over time so I took it upon myself to listen to all their stories and compile them into a book. It’s fascinating the legends they have really. And they tell their stories regularly at the long-houses.”
Zhen gets into it. I can see he is passionate about his project. Already talking about a second volume that’s actual fact from the recent happenings instead of stories that may be fabricated.
He hasn’t forgotten about Mira, but as she pointed out to me numerous times when talking about her master. He is a scatter brain, easily side tracked if you know his buttons. Crysta keeps looking at me l and at my soul forged iron toya.
I hesitate to call it a zanpakutō because it isn’t a bladed weapon, but it was intended to be a zanpakutō. The masters say there is some divine provenance when forging soul weapons and they may take any shape they please.
I’m interested to know how much Crystal can see of what was done to me. Soul magic, I want to spit just thinking about it.
“How is Mira doing?”
Crysta eventually gets us back on topic after Zhen has mostly beguiled me with his passion project. I nod knowing the effects of the tea are in full effect, increasing concentration and mental clarity.
“She is doing very well. The trip through the mountains was at first very difficult for her. It seems you neglected her physical fitness Zhen.”
He snorts and waves away my concerns nonchalantly, prompting me to continue.
“It took us a ten months of travel to get to our destination. During the trip Mira and the boy got very close.”
Zhen frowns slightly at that. “Which boy are you referring to?” He asks even as Crystal nods knowingly.
“Sachihiro van Damage. He said you Crysta told him our travel route.” I say without accusation. Hiro was a godsend on the trip to be honest, without him Mira would have drove me insane.
“Yes, he seemed like a nice boy. You left him behind as well?” She asks, patting Zhen on the hand to placate him while looking at me.
“No actually, we travelled back together. He was very eager to return home as you can imagine.”
“And Mira wasn’t?” Zhen asks dangerously. “You better not have done anything to harm her.”
“Not at all. In fact she is recovering faster than anticipated. She has a very powerful digestion, resulting in her absorbing a lot of ether from what she eats.”
Zhen laughs uproaringly tapping the table lightly. Something he hadn’t done before staying with the tribes. It seems they have had an influence on him.
“I knew that would come in handy! Remember how she complained for days about that? Her ‘wasted mana’ she called it. I kept telling her Awakening Mana cannot be wasted, but the girl is stubborn.”
“Yes well it has shown some of it’s usefulness. In another five to ten years she will be back to what her ether level was before she Awakened. In another twenty years she can Awaken again or whatever happens in her situation.”
“That is great news indeed. But you haven’t said why it is that you left her nor where exactly you’ve all been.” Crysta points out, clearing the table.
“We have been guests of a very secluded people known as the Hito. That is all I can say about that. The reason I left her is because she is with child again.”
A cup shatters on the floor and Zhen chokes on the smoke from the pipe he was lighting. Coughing and hitting his chest to relieve himself. I grin in triumph behind my hand but quickly school my face.
“Come again?” Crysta says sitting down without clearing the glass. I can’t help but grin as she gives me her undivided attention.
“Her first child is nearly three years old now. Born a month after our arrival with the Hito people. The boy named her Vigdis, Mira named her Saya. She responds to either name but the Hito mostly call her Saya, it’s easier for them.”
I take out my own pipe and packing in some marijuana weed, much milder than dream weed but it gets the job done. I let them digest that information between them.
“So the child’s father is this van Damage lad?” Zhen finally asks, his expression ranging from dangerous anger to utter joy. He is definitely conflicted.
“Yes, I wouldn’t take advantage of a student like that of course.”
“Of course.” Zhen says, though we both know masters fuck their students all the time. Sometimes its a requirement by the master. I know Crysta knows this as well, but it’s a frowned upon practice in Sandaria I gather.
“And the second child, who is the father?” Crysta asks.
“The same, Sachihiro van Damage.”
“I must meet this boy.” Zhen says vehemently. “Are they to be married?” He asks suddenly, getting up and pacing on the tiled floor.
“I’m unaware of any such plans but I didn’t really ask.”
“Is he a decent lad? No, of course he is. Mira wouldn’t have sex with an imbecile.” He says out loud.
Crysta and I snort simultaneously to that. We look at each other and I smile while she giggles. We both know Mira well enough to understand the girl will fuck almost anyone if the power is balanced enough equally or in her favour, she finds them attractive and if she has no other pressing loyalties.
I’m sure Sachi knows that as well. Not that her appetites are a bad thing. I actually admire her frankness about the entire thing. Most slaves are introduced to sex violently and want nothing to do with it when they gain their freedom.
Mira has sex like an aristocratic woman that has swarms of eager male subjects to please her. She treats it like an indulgence she has earned.
“Let the boy enjoy the night with his family. You can talk tomorrow old man.” I say blowing out smoke.
*
We talk a bit about that for a while. Mainly me telling stories about little Saya and her mischievous ways. They soak it up happily, Crysta preparing bread, meats and ale. Typical Barbarian foods.
Crysta surprises me at some point by joining me on my second pipe. Her beautiful eyes a different colour than I remember today. And they will probably be a different colour tomorrow.
“How is the spirit treating her?” She finally asks. Something I knew she would eventually bring up.
“It’s been good as far as I can tell, and she hasn’t complained. Nor have the Watanabe’s shown any concern so far.”
“Wata what now?” Crysta asks.
That was a slip on my part, I didn’t intend on mentioning the vampires tonight. A slip of the tongue. This weed must have gotten to me.
“A family of powerful soul magicians. They can see the spirit within her.”
“I see… And Saya, it hasn’t done anything to her?” She asks leaning forward.
I lean in as well so that our faces are almost touching, showing my attraction to her with my eyes. Inappropriate timing I know, but I’m high and she has a beautiful chest. I mean eyes, yes beautiful eyes.
“She seems fine. Though she has a strange ability of night-vision. We’re not sure where that comes from or whether she still has other abilities we haven’t noticed.” I whisper, lean further forward and pat her on the cheek with a kiss.
Leaning back I look at Zhen, who grins at me as though he has a big secret. Not an encouraging look, maybe he doesn’t frolic with Crysta for a good reason I’m starting to think.
“Anyways how has the fighting been going?” I ask to change the subject.
“Depends which side you’d rather win. But all together its been bloody.” Zhen says.
“I half expected you to be with your countrymen flinging lightning at the uncouth barbarians.” I say honestly.
Zhen just shrugs to that.
“Zhen grew up with his cousins in a small town in a conquered province of Sandaria called Daarkan. When the Sandarians came his town was burnt and many of his friends and family were killed.
“His loyalties lie mor
e with individuals within the kingdom than the kingdom itself. I found him in my wondering and have raised him ever since.” Crysta says looking at me intently.
“Really? You look too good to be a mother to this old sack of bones.” I say teasingly. Zhen has actually gained substantial meat since last I saw him.
What surprises me but shouldn’t is that Zhen looks like a well aged 60 year old man, while Crysta looks like a 35 year old beauty. And she’s quite short, even by my standards, as short as the Hito.
“Anyways how has it been having the Sidhe here? I here more curious fae arrive every few weeks.”
“Pffrhh..” Crysta snorts then pouts, a decidedly cute look on her. It seems my kiss on the cheek is revealing a girly side to her. Most of the tribesmen are probably too smart to flirt with a sorceress.
“They won’t teach me anything. They say I’m too young to be trusted with such power.” She complains pouting and crossing her arms under her breasts.
I’m not sure if it was a calculated move but its working, I had let my guard down the moment I walk into the door.
“Really? How young do the fae consider to young?”
I ask trying to take my eyes off her chest. I’m sure it’s her height that makes it seem bigger than it is. It wouldn’t be so noticeably on a Norse woman for instance.
“I’m 412 this summer I think.” She says with a smile as I cough and the smile gets strained on my face a moment. I hate that exam doesn’t seem to work on sorcerers. I’d know this already if it did.
“You don’t look a day over a hundred.” I say and she beams at me.
“Why thank you Asriel. Drink this, and let me show you were you will be staying tonight.” She says making a quick mixture with what I strongly suspect is rhino horn, apple powder some purple flower.
I drink it though, having have had experience at The Brothel with aphrodisiacs. Thought I haven’t needed one since acquiring wholesome body from the path of the Chaste.
She then leads me by the hand towards the stairs.
“Good luck.” Zhen says then giggles to himself. I’m starting to worry now.