“Great Turtle,” Hadjar whispered, watching the exam. “You don’t know me, and I’ve never spoken to you before. If you can hear me, please give your son the power he needs to win.”
Einen, withstanding the pressure comparable to the might of a peak Heaven Soldier, but centered on a point no larger than a pinhead, peered inside himself. During the journey through the Valley of Swamps and the battle against the disciples of the enemy Schools, he’d managed to grasp several mysteries, but hadn’t been able to understand how they were connected to the Way of the Spear-Staff Spirit. He also didn’t understand why he couldn’t get one particular memory out of his head since then.
***
Einen had liked to watch sunsets as a child: the tired sun slowly sinking into the endless waters of the sea, the little waves caressing it and making it blush a deep crimson, like the cheeks of a young, amorous maiden. He’d often watched the coral clouds float across the sky. It had sometimes felt like he was lost among them, trying to be the same as the clouds, calm and omniscient, seeing all the horrors that occurred in the world, but remaining calm and collected despite it.
After climbing the mast and driving the lookout out of their barrel, Einen would sometimes keep watching the sunset for hours, peering at the merging of the horizon with the surface of the sea. Perhaps that was why he hated when battles with enemy ships ended in the evening. It wasn’t just the sky and the crests of the waves that turned red, then, but the water itself — there was so much blood and numerous shipwrecks being consumed by bright flames. That fire had never warmed him, only making him scared. If a person had never seen a ship burn at sea, they wouldn’t be able to understand the horror experienced by someone at the center of two primordial elements. Fire and water had never been good neighbors. When they fought each other, anyone who got between them was doomed to die. Survivors were never killed at sea, there was no need for it. If grapeshot or cutlasses had failed to kill them, the sea itself would surely finish the job.
“You’re here again,” a voice behind him said.
Einen turned around. On the spar, leaning his shoulder against the mast, stood his father. He wasn’t tall or muscular. He was lean, with only one eye, many scars on his face, and a dagger instead of his right hand.
“I like to watch the sunset,” Einen replied, almost telling the truth.
For as long as he could remember, his father had taught him to use half-truths and understatements. He’d said that nurturing that habit might one day save his life.
“Or you don’t like to hear the screams of the dying,” the old pirate, smuggler, and slave trader said with an eerie, yellowish smile. Einen’s father did anything at sea that could excite him and make him a profit.
“May I join you?”
After a moment’s thought, Einen moved to the side, freeing up enough space in the cramped barrel for another man to squeeze in. His father did so. They both stared into the distance in silence.
“One day, you will sail there.” His father said suddenly, his voice full of sadness. Einen was about to protest that he wouldn’t leave his family, but his father cut him off with an imperious gesture. “I may only have one eye,” he involuntarily touched the bandage over his left eye, “but that doesn’t mean I can’t see. You’ll leave, I’m sure of it. Don’t try to deny it.”
Einen didn’t. That same evening, as he’d been scrubbing his hands until they bled, trying to clean the blood of honest traders off them, he’d decided that the next time they stopped at a port, he would definitely leave. He just couldn’t ... couldn’t live like this anymore. He was terrified that if he stayed, the next time he cleaned his hands, he would be scrubbing away the blood... of his own father.
“I love you, son.”
Einen started. He hadn’t heard such words from his father in a long time.
“Take this.” His father put a bundle on the edge of the barrel. “I’m not going to tell you how to life your life, my son. I only hope you find a reason to unsheathe your weapon one day.”
That was the last time he’d seen his father.
***
A reason to unsheathe his weapon... Did he have one? Einen had never sought fame, fortune, fights, or unnecessary blood. All he’d looked for was peace and quiet. The kind of serenity the clouds had, floating across the sky. However, better than anyone else, Einen knew that peace and quiet had to be fought for. I fight to protect!
“Stop.” Einen pronounced.
Just that one word contained so many mysteries of the Spear-Staff Spirit that they coalesced into a weapon. It didn’t strike out furiously, but swirled around the bald man. Like a fortress, it protected Einen. His way, his Spear in the Heart, was to protect what was dear to him. The world. His friends. Himself.
The winged serpent was instantly crushed when it struck this incredible defense.
Chapter 490
“I hoped… No! I knew you would do it!”
Dora seemed to be even more pleased with the success of her friends than they themselves were. At the moment, they were walking toward the School gates. The same two ancient guardian golems and the elevator platform were still there.
After mastering the Weapon in the Heart, the exam had been no more difficult for Einen than it had been for Hadjar. Except his specialty was defense, not attack. Therefore, to defeat the golems, he’d had to use the ‘Boulder Storm’ Technique twice.
After receiving the second gold token, the friends had had to spend a decent amount of time sorting out their obligations regarding the sweepstakes. Of course, the greatest prize belonged to the betting slips that had bet on both of the friends passing the exam within fifteen minutes. Dora clutched one of them happily, and another two belonged to Hadjar and Einen.
They hadn’t bet against themselves, which would’ve earned them quick and easy money if they’d rigged things. Anyway, according to the slippery islander, even if they’d failed the exam, they wouldn’t have lost much.
There had been other winners as well. So, out of approximately eighty thousand Glory points, their three coupons had provided three thousand points to Dora and seven thousand points each to Hadjar and Einen.
“Maybe we can arrange something like this for the Tarez and Dinos duel.” Hadjar said thoughtfully.
Einen demonstrated his agreement with a very clear smile. After all, he had the blood of cunning smugglers running through his veins.
After their business with the other cultivators had been resolved, they’d went over to talk to Mentor Jean. He’d heartily congratulated the two disciples on passing the exam. He’d promised to introduce each of them not just to the Mentor of the fully-fledged disciples, but also to the Mentors who specialized in their weapons. After all, the Weapon in the Heart level was considered a very high level of weapon mastery even among the inner circle disciples. That would come later, however, and at the moment, Hadjar and Einen really needed to see the Mentor of the fully-fledged disciples so they could move into one of the local buildings that housed them. However, he would be busy until the next morning, so the friends had decided to leave it be for now, and to delay their visit to the second and third floors of the Treasure Tower as well. The scrolls and manuscripts wouldn’t disappear any time soon and the friends had plenty of Glory points, as the exam had ended up costing each of them half a thousand points due to all the profit they’d made.
So, because Dora Marnil had insisted, they were now moving toward the exit of the School, wishing to indulge in a well-deserved rest.
“But only the inner circle disciples are allowed to leave freely.” Hadjar said. “Without a task from the Hall of Fame, we can’t go to the city.”
“Maybe.” The elf girl smiled. “However…”
“However?” Einen asked thoughtfully.
The islander was usually thoughtful, but ever since the exam, he’d looked like a man trying to solve an unsolvable problem. Or like someone who had to choose between two evils and couldn’t even find the lesser one.
�
��However, you have me, of course,” Dora said with a disarming smile. “A disciple of the inner circle can leave the School at will and take an unlimited number of people with them. The Master of our group said that the rule exists in case we need to evacuate.”
“Evacuate?” Hadjar asked.
“Well,” Dora shrugged. “You never know when someone might attack the School.”
Einen snorted. “I’d like to see the madmen who would dare try it.”
Chatting cheerfully, the trio reached the gates. Hadjar and Einen tensed up. They felt uncomfortable under the stony gazes of the ancient guardians who could destroy them at will.
Dora, in her usual, calm manner, informed the guardians that the two junior disciples were going with her to see the city. As soon as the golems heard the first part of her explanation, they lost all interest in the cultivators and assumed the form of statues once again.
The disciples gathered near the gates stared at Dora. Most of them belonged to the outer circle. When they saw the two menacing, fully-fledged disciples standing next to the elf girl, they hurried to avert their gazes and forget about the existence of the world around them. They presumed that the two fully-fledged disciples were personal bodyguards of the Princess of the elven clan.
No one could imagine that Dora Marnil had been able to make friends with someone outside of her own social circle.
When the platform reached the ground, the cultivators quickly dispersed, heading toward the various stables. Some even went to the skyport.
“Where are we going?” Hadjar asked.
He was looking at the city with a slightly shocked expression. Dahanatan was really huge. A mere mortal couldn’t walk from one end to the other in a lifetime. And mortals really did live in the capital, but somewhere on the outskirts. They had become just as mythical for Hadjar as true cultivators had once been. He hadn’t seen any mortals in years.
“There’s a wonderful place in the Whispering Water lily District,” Dora suggested after a moment’s thought. “I can’t remember its name. It was something melodic, though.”
“We were supposed to go for a walk, not sit in a tavern.”
Hadjar glanced surreptitiously at his friend. Einen argued only in extreme and serious cases. The islander had never objected to free food and drink before.
“It’s a restaurant!” Dora protested. “One of the best!”
“Then I’m afraid,” Hadjar said with a slightly roguish smile, “that we won’t be allowed to come in, honorable heiress of House Marnil.”
“Just call me Dora,” the girl snapped. “The School guardians let you leave the premises, so you’ll be allowed into the restaurant as well! They won’t dare to object. I have my hammer with me!”
A few minutes later, the trio set off toward the Whispering Water lily District. They moved along the pedestrian lane of a broad avenue, which was only slightly narrower than the abandoned Imperial Road. Einen talked to Dora, and Hadjar looked at the passing riders. Only a few of them rode ordinary horses. Far more often, they rode strange animals. He thought of Azrea then. How was the tiger cub coping with life in the Forest of Death? Hadjar sometimes missed the little tigress. But cats were freedom-loving animals and went where they wanted to.
“Oh!” The elf girl suddenly exclaimed. “Let’s go in here, too!”
They stopped in front of a shop that had a sign above the entrance that read: ‘The Billoms’ Artifact House. The Best Artifacts in Dahanatan!’ It swayed in the wind.
Seeing her friends’ stunned expressions, since they’d heard about this store and knew how prestigious it was, Dora smiled happily. Turning to Hadjar, she spread her arms out and said: “I did promise to give you a new spatial artifact, after all.”
Chapter 491
Hadjar looked at the shop again. Compared to the other stores, which had three or four floors, this one looked inconspicuous — a simple two-story building with a shop on the ground floor and an apartment on the second floor.
“Are you serious, Dora?” Hadjar looked doubtfully at the sign.
Some of the shops were so well-known among the disciples of the outer circle that it was impossible to not hear about them. The Billom family’s store was one of them. When they said that they made the best artifacts in Dahanatan, and thus the entire Darnassus Empire, they weren’t exaggerating at all.
“Enora told father about how well I did in the battle against the disciples of the opposing Schools,” The elf girl said sheepishly, looking away. “So, he gave me a generous reward to try and motivate me to keep getting stronger. Or that’s what he said, anyway. And since I don’t need money...”
Hadjar and Einen looked at each other. They’d always considered money a burden, something that served only to make their bags heavier. Everyone knew that the worst nightmare of any traveler was being weighed down too much. Dora probably had other motives, but the sentiment remained largely the same.
“Thank you.” Hadjar saluted and bowed. “I won’t forget this.”
“Don’t mention it, junior disciple.” The elf waved his thanks away. “I’m only fulfilling my promise. To be honest, I’m happy to do it. I rarely get an opportunity to buy gifts for someone. Now let’s go. Master Billom doesn’t like customers being late to appointments.”
Dora entered the shop first, opening the elaborately carved casement doors. She held them open for her friends, who froze as they entered. Hadjar blinked a couple of times, then went back out into the street. He gave the building an appraising look, muttered something under his breath, and went back inside again.
“It’s impressive,” Einen said the words like he was cursing.
“Yep.” Hadjar nodded a little stiffly.
Once they were inside, the seemingly simple shop turned out to be very unusual: the huge, open area was bathed in daylight streaming in from numerous windows, each offering a different view — one of them showed waves caressing the pink sand of an idyllic beach. A violent storm raged behind another. Thunder shook a mountain peak, and lightning bolts tried to cut through a lone, withered tree struggling against the elements. A third window offered a bird’s-eye view of the entirety of Dahanatan. There were at least fifty such windows set in the stone walls decorated with tapestries. Damn it, how was this even possible? The building looked like it could hardly contain even three windows from the outside, but it looked more opulent than most of the palaces Hadjar had seen from the inside.
The floor was covered in animal skins, carpets, and mosaics. The ceiling had stucco and paintings depicting scenes from the Empire’s eventful past. Even the counters weren’t counters at all, but tables made of the rarest types of wood, the kind alchemists would’ve gladly used in their experiments.
Sitting on velvet cloth, which had precious stones and metals sewn into it, protected by domes made out of the finest glass covered with magic runes and hieroglyphs, were various artifacts and amulets. From simple rings to animal horns and claws embedded in metal, they all had one thing in common: there was no price tag next to any of them.
“Good afternoon, Master Billom.” Dora put her fist to her heart and bowed low. “Thank you for seeing me.”
Hadjar noticed the shop assistant. Admittedly, it was difficult to call an old man in expensive clothes, with well-groomed, long, gray hair that almost reached his waist a shop assistant. He exuded the kind of power and confidence that many aristocrats would’ve been proud to have.
“Refusing the request of the eldest heiress of House Marnil would be an insult to one of the greatest clans of the Empire.” Master Billom also bowed. Only then did Hadjar realize that it was impossible to simply enter this shop freely. “And you, honorable fully-fledged disciples of ‘The Holy Sky’ School, are friends of little Dora?”
From his tone, they easily guessed that Billom had known Dora and the Marnils for a long time, which wasn’t at all surprising. The artifactor probably made items for most of the country’s nobles after all.
“We’re more like good acquain
tances,” Einen said with a bow.
“Honesty is a good trait for a cultivator to have.” The Master turned to Hadjar and gave him an appraising look. “You’ve only recently mastered the Weapon’s Heart, correct?”
“That’s right.” Hadjar said.
“And you have the blood of a dragon, your ancestor, coursing through your veins, and have awakened your Inheritance.”
“I do.”
In spite of his outwardly calm demeanor, Hadjar was ready to howl. He was sure that Master Billom had his own amazing and unusual artifacts; there was no other explanation for how he’d learned several of Hadjar’s secrets at a glance.
“Don’t worry, junior disciple,” Dora immediately hurried to reassure him. She also briefly wondered if they really weren’t friends yet. “Master Billom always examines a customer carefully before making a custom artifact for them.”
“Custom?” Hadjar asked.
If the items on the shelves cost at least a hundred thousand Imperial coins, then a custom artifact... He couldn’t accept such an expensive gift, and he hastened to tell Dora that.
“Don’t worry, young man.” Billom cut him off. “If I were to make you an Imperial level artifact, then you’d have every right to be worried about the price. Instead, I’ll make, at Dora’s request, an artifact at the Heaven level. I admit it’s been a long time since I created something so simple.”
Hadjar calmed down at first, but when he saw the furrow in Einen’s brow that appeared every time the islander sensed a ruse, he also tensed up. He didn’t know what it was just yet, but something about what was happening bothered him.
“Well, I think we can start.”
Master Billom waved his hand. A small bar of metal and a black, semi-precious stone Hadjar didn’t know the name of appeared in his palm. The artifactor abruptly clenched his fist. Neither Einen nor Hadjar sensed a disturbance in the energy currents or a flash of power. They didn’t notice anything strange at all. But, when Billom opened his hand again, a simple signet ring was resting on his palm. It was made of metal and topped with a small plate of black, semi-precious stone.
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