by Ivan Kal
“Vin! You are back,” came a deep voice. Turning his head toward the source, Vin saw a tall, brown-skinned man covered in white tattoos: Solunwari Jorvasi, the ship’s first mate.
“Solun, where is Captain Corvo?” Vin said in a rush.
“Down in his cabin,” Solun said, and then gestured to a crewman, who ran down to the cabins, presumably to get the Captain. “What is wrong?”
“We are being pursued. We need to set sail immediately,” Vin told him.
“That won’t be possible, Vin. We’ve been secured at port for months waiting for you. It will take us time to get the ship ready to sail,” Solun said.
“Damn it,” Vin said, looking around. “How long will it take?”
“An hour, perhaps. We need to send someone to fetch Ulyssa. She’s at the tavern.”
Vin grimaced. “Of course she is.” He turned to Jirross. “Go get her.”
The man ran off immediately, just as Captain Corvo walked out on deck. “Vin! What—”
“No time to explain,” Vin said. “We are being chased by a fragment-bearer. I need you to get the ship ready to sail as quickly as possible.”
Corvo and Solun looked at each other, their eyes widening. “Vin, if a fragment-bearer comes for you… A bit of water won’t stop them from sinking the ship. It will take time for us to leave the harbor and get far enough away to escape.”
“Damn it, get started!” Vin said. Solun turned and barked orders at the crew, while Corvo looked like he wanted to argue. Vin held up a hand and then turned to look at Teressa. “You said that you know some weather magic, right? You served on a ship before?”
“A little, yes, but Vin, I don’t think that I can do what Ulyssa does,” Teressa said in a rush.
“Get started on the spells before Ulyssa arrives. We need to be quick,” Vin told her. She gave him a hesitant nod and then went up to the back of the ship.
“Vin—” Corvo started.
“I know,” Vin interrupted. “They’ll be here within the hour. I’m going to hold them off while you set off, then I’ll catch up.”
Corvo had a strange look on his face. “You think that you can hold off a fragment-bearer? By yourself?”
“I can, although it is risky. I don’t know anything about his power, so I cannot be certain. The bigger problem is the town. I don’t want to cause unnecessary deaths, and if we do clash here we might level the town between us.”
Corvo’s eyes widened and his mouth opened, but no words came out. Corvo knew a few things about Vin—not that he was from another world, but only that he was a capable fighter. He had seen him in action against the pirates when Vin had first arrived on this world and found himself on Corvo’s ship, although then he had barely been capable of anything. Vin could see that Corvo didn’t really believe what he was saying. But that was all right; his belief was not required. It had been a while since Vin had to truly fight with his life on the line, like a true spirit artist. During the trip with Teressa and Jirross, they had gotten into fights, but those were against ordinary people—thugs, bandits, an occasional rogue mage. He’d had no opportunity to really use his power. Even the siblings had known that he was a great fighter that used a strange style of magic, but little beyond that.
“Get the ship to open water. I will follow after,” Vin said, and then jumped from the ship directly to the pier, leaving a flabbergasted Corvo to ready his ship. He ran through the harbor, avoiding people who simply went about their business. He ran into Jirross half carrying Ulyssa and he stopped next to them.
Immediately he could smell the alcohol on the mage, and he grimaced. “It’s the middle of the day, Ulyssa,” Vin told her.
“Shut up! I can still cast spells, just can’t walk all too well is all,” Ulyssa said, half slurring the words.
“Get her to the ship,” Vin told Jirross.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“To hold them off until Norvus is in open waters,” Vin said. He left before Jirross could ask a question; he had no time to waste. Vin left the town and ran down the road, getting closer to the enemy group and away from the town, a plan slowly forming in his mind.
After he crossed around a single league and reached a hill, he turned away and looked at the town in the distance. It was far enough away that he hoped it wouldn’t be affected by any combat, but close enough for Vin to see when Norvus left the harbor. There, he settled down on the ground in a meditating pose and started cycling his ki. A great spirit artist never wasted time better spent cultivating his power. With a thought he activated his technique and his ki churned in a circle, becoming compressed and strengthened in the process.
* * * *
Only about forty minutes later, the group found him—faster than he had anticipated. But they made it straight for him, which meant that they somehow were tracing him. He had wondered about that; Teressa suggested they alter course and try to confuse them, but they always followed after them. Vin had tried to find out how they were doing that, but was unsuccessful. They had thrown away the clothes they had stolen, Teresa even trying to use spells to “cleanse” them, but nothing worked.
The group of eight riders climbed up the hill, and the man in the lead—the fragment-bearer—raised his hand to stop them. He saw confusion in the soldiers’ and mages’ eyes, but they obeyed. They climbed down their horses and slowly walked forward, only stopping twenty steps away from Vin. The fragment-bearer was cautious; he had sensed something that made him hesitate.
Vin was impressed. The bearer was an ordinary man, with no magic or ki, yet he was clearly a master in his own right. Vin had the habit to look down on those who were not spirit artists, but he had seen people on this world who had reached the peak of their capabilities, had mastered their own forms of combat. Even though they were not spirit artists, Vin did have respect for them.
The fragment-bearer watched Vin, waiting. Vin didn’t even open his eyes; instead, he watched the group through his net. Slowly, he ended his cycling and readied his core, but he still didn’t move, choosing to remain seated. Every moment that he was allowed to spend was a moment more for Norvus to escape.
At last he felt the fragment-bearer’s patience reach its limit, and he opened his mouth to speak. Vin opened his eyes and interrupted him.
“May I ask how you tracked us?” Vin said from his seated position.
The fragment-bearer narrowed his eyes. The soldiers around him had their weapons drawn, and the mages held their staffs at the ready. Vin knew that they didn’t need them to cast magic—they were just their versions of blessed armament. The leader debated something for a moment, but then he responded to Vin’s question. “With this,” he said, nodding toward one of the mages, who held a small spherical device in his hand.
Vin sent a few of his threads and inspected it, seeing immediately that it was a magical object. Only then did he notice three tiny strings moving from the device outward. One of them was attached to Vin, and the other two stretched to the harbor. He cursed himself for missing it, but in his defense it was tiny, nearly disappearing in the ambient aura—and Vin had spent his entire life living in a word that barely had any aura. He still had trouble seeing through all this fog. Now that he could see the string, however he easily reached over and cut it with a thin thread of his own ki. The string disappeared, and the device in mage’s hand flashed instantly.
The mage frowned and looked at Vin in surprise, then whispered something to his leader.
Before Vin could speak, the fragment-bearer continued. “Every person that enters the town’s perimeter is marked and can be afterward tracked.”
“A good plan,” Vin said as he slowly go to his feet. The group stiffened, but otherwise didn’t react. “I guess that even I can still miss things.”
Vin looked at the fragment-bearer, taking his appearance in. He looked like a man in his thirties, but Vin could tell that he was older. Perhaps holding the fragment slowed down his aging. Vin was not certain, as the only fragment-be
arer he had spent any extended time with was Kyarra, and she already had magic that would slow her aging. It didn’t matter much, except in the way that age could tell Vin how skilled his opponent could be. The man had red hair, as many Lashians did, cut short in military style. His eyes were green, and he had sharp features. He was built like a man who was a fighter, wide in the shoulders and thick with muscle. He wore black leather boots, black trousers held by a red sash at the waist, and a black tunic, all covered in golden magical glyphs. They looked unassuming, but Vin was not fooled. The entire outfit was spelled with some pretty powerful wards. The last time he felt anything like this was near Kyarra.
“I am Kai Zhao Vin. It is an honor to meet you, fragment-bearer.” Vin gave him a spirit-artist-styled bow over his fists. “May I have the honor of knowing your name?”
He could see that this took the group by surprise. He heard one of the mages urge the fragment-bearer to attack, to take him into custody. But their leader silenced them with a glare. Vin’s respect rose yet again—the man was clearly the only one among them who knew that Vin was not such an easy target.
The man took a step forward and inclined his head. He doesn’t really respect me, Vin thought to himself. He wasn’t surprised, but it did give him another advantage. The man was wary of him, but not truly concerned.
“I am Arc Commander Danir Nou Reiff. Tell me, spy, which nation has sent you?” Danir asked.
Vin gave him a small smile. “No nation sent me.”
Danir narrowed his eyes and Vin could tell that he didn’t believe him. “It must’ve taken you a lot of effort to find our project. We made sure that very few people outside of it had any knowledge about it. Tell us who your masters are, and who told you where to find it, and I can promise you leniency.”
Vin shook his head. “I have no masters but myself. Tell me, Arc Commander… Do you have any idea what it is that you are building? The horror that your foolish Emperor seeks to unleash upon this world?”
Danir tilted his head. “You did not get past the gate and into the mountains. We checked your movements. You cannot know what it is that we are constructing.”
“Such foolish beliefs. I have seen a World Gate before, and you do not understand what it is you are playing with. Your Emperor does not know that the Arashan will not honor any agreement made. You will either join their Host, or you will die.”
Vin saw his words had their desired effect. The group was shaken by his words, and Vin saw that they knew of the Arashan.
“You can’t know this. Who sent you?” Danir asked harshly. His arm moved to his side and a flash of red flames spread from his palm, materializing into a short sword. The blade was wide, almost a hand’s breadth, and covered in glowing red glyphs. The guard was round and likewise covered in glyphs, and from what Vin could see the handle itself had magical symbols on it as well. But the thing that caught the eye was the pommel, or rather the bright red fragment of power nestled in it. Vin could feel the power inside, the vast ocean of aura inside the fragment, and the tiny rivers of it connecting the wards with the fragment itself.
“I know that there is little I can say to dissuade you from what you are about to do. But, I assure you, you do not want to do this, Arc Commander. If your gate is finished, it will only bring ruin to this world,” Vin told him, even though he knew it was futile. The people of this world were arrogant. They lived in such a twisted net of loyalties and broken honor that Vin did not even understand how it all functioned.
“You are not afraid,” Danir said slowly. “You know what it is that I wield, but you are not begging for your life. Either you are stupid, or… But no. I know all the other known fragment-bearers, and you do not match descriptions of any of them, and my people tell me that you are not a mage.”
“I do not bear a fragment of power, and I am no mage,” Vin confirmed.
“It doesn’t matter what you are. You will not be escaping. We are taking you back and you will answer all of our questions,” Danir said, taking a step forward.
Vin sighed, and put his hand to the side, crafting a spear made out of ki in his hands black with dark blue accents: a crystallized replica of his thundering spear, the blessed arm he had lost along with his original body. Danir looked at Vin’s spear and then back to Vin’s face. He tilted his head, but didn’t stop walking forward. Then, in a single moment, he activated a ward on his weapon.
Vin had the entire hill covered with sensory threads and his spirit sight, and so he felt the anima surge from the fragment even before Danir activated the ward. He saw the miniscule ki the man possessed move through him as he moved his body, telegraphing his intents. The Arc Commander jumped forward at speeds far faster than what an ordinary person was capable of, a thin wisp of flame covering his body. Vin saw the glyphs on Danir’s cloths activate at the same time, probably protecting them from the fire. For a moment Vin imagined what it would be like to lose your clothes in a fire every time you used your weapon, and nearly chuckled. But then Danir was in front of him, his sword sailing through the air from the side. Vin spun his spear with both hands, took a step to the other side, and placed the haft of his spear in the way, blocking the attack.
He saw Danir’s eyes widen as his blade was stopped, but before he could act, Vin took another step back and spun his spear around, going for the man’s head with the shaft of his spear. Danir reacted immediately by jumping back, informing Vin that some of the wards on his blade had to give him heightened senses, as Vin’s attack was too fast for the man to see with his normal eyes. As soon as Danir landed back on the ground, the rest of his group acted. If they had been surprised that their leader hadn’t succeeded, they didn’t show it. Instead, the mages pointed their staffs and unleashed bolts of fire at Vin, while the four soldiers ran to the side, probably planning to flank him.
Vin could not allow that. He did not like killing, but like all spirit artists, he accepted that it was part of life. These soldiers served the people who were allied with his enemies, and a true spirit artist knew too that mercy had no place in combat. He spun his spear and intercepted the mages’ bolts of fire with his spear, cutting through them in quick succession. The mages eyes widened when they saw that, but they had no time to waste. Ten blades formed around Vin as he activated his Sculpting technique—the Swooping Blades—each looking like a black sword with blue edges and accents, and the moment they were fully formed, they flew away, guided by the thin threads of ki attached to them from Vin.
Danir blocked the two flying in his direction with his sword easily, his movements quicker than Vin expected. The mages raised shields in front of themselves and the four blades flying in their directions shattered against them. The four soldiers, on the other hand, were not so lucky. They had no power themselves, and they were too slow to react. Three of his swords found their targets, stabbing into the soldiers with such force that they were killed nearly instantly. The last soldier was lucky—he was the one furthest away from Vin, and the deaths of his allies surprised him enough that he tripped and fell, causing Vin’s blade to miss him.
Vin knew that he needed to take care of these distractions quickly. Ki flowed to his feet and Vin used a Surging technique, a simple wind step. The ground beneath his feet almost turned to clouds as he nearly floated over it, and in an instant Vin arrived next to the fallen soldier. The man looked at Vin with fear in his eyes, just as the spear pierced his heart. Vin pulled it out and turned around, not even waiting for the man to die.
The mages and the Arc Commander stood across from him, on the other side of the hill. The mages had fearful looks in their eyes, but Danir glared with only hatred. Vin knew that look well, as he’d had the same expression when he had watched the Arashan kill his people. The Arc Commander held his sword in one hand raised above his head and pointed at Vin, standing in a strange martial stance. Neither he nor the mages moved.
Danir slowly narrowed his eyes. “Your features, the strange power… You are like her, aren’t you?”
; Vin knew that Danir was talking about Ming-Li. She had been at the site where they were building the World Gate, and it made sense that he had seen what she could do.
“I am the last true spirit artist. I watched as the Arashan killed my people and took my world. The same fate awaits your should you finish that gate.”
Danir’s grip on his sword tightened, and then he lashed out at Vin with his sword, and a ball of fire flew straight toward him. Vin simply wind-stepped aside. The mages were chanting under their breaths, preparing some large spell. But Vin knew how to fight mages, and knew one did not allow them the time to finish their spells. He Shaped ten more blades and let them fly, half at Danir, keeping him busy, and the other at the mages. Before his blades even reached them, he stepped again, gliding across the ground and behind the mages. He focused his ki, pulling from his core, and then focused on a Sculpting technique.
It was easier for him to accomplish Sculpting techniques here on this world, where aura was abundant. All spirit artists could use ki of any affinity if they had a source of that type of aura nearby; the affinity of their cores simply made shaping ki they already had an affinity to easier as they already had such a type available. Vin focused on the ki of the earth, converting some of his own ki into that affinity by pulling aura out from the ground and mixing them together in his core. Then, as his blades reached the mages’ shields and broke against them, taking their attention for a moment, he released the technique. Three spikes rose from the ground and impaled the mages, killing them instantly.
Danir blocked Vin’s blades and turned around, too late to save his people. Vin saw anger in his eyes, but it was anger pointed at himself for not being able to protect them. Vin saw the moment the man decided to throw caution to the wind, and stop trying to gauge Vin’s power. His form exploded into a blazing fire. The ground beneath him was scorched, and a ring of fire extended outward as grass burned, quickly leaving only black ground. The heat made Vin take a step back, and then the man was in front of him.