The Isle of Mists: An Epic Mage Fantasy Adventure (Legend of Ecta Mastrino Book 3)

by BJ Hanlon

  A large port spread out before him like a ladies’ fan. Row upon row, dock upon dock of vessels. Sailing vessels, fishing vessels, some with two, three and even five sails.

  The city gradually rose up toward a looming mountain to the northwest. The original volcano, Edin assumed. Far to the right the beach disappeared into sheer cliffs as if a god shoveled out a section of the island.

  Men yelled, the words were either too quick or in some sort of shorthand that could only be understood by their fellows. Large ropes were heaved to the dock and men began to pull them in.

  “I should find Arianne,” Edin said.

  “She’s there,” Le Fie said pointing toward the bow.

  Her golden hair was shining in the light. She’d disappeared a hour earlier to clean and wash her clothes. She’d offered to do the same for Edin, though he declined.

  His mother had told him, prior to meeting the Baron of Aldenheim, ‘to exude your station, dress like you should be there and act like you have been before.’

  Though what Le Fie said the night before, in his foreboding tone… it made Edin rethink the place and he wanted to be as nondescript as possible. He wasn’t that Ecta whatever, that was certain, but if Le Fie had that thought, others might too if they found out about his talents...

  So Edin decided to stay in his ship clothes, the same he’d been wearing for weeks. They said his station was below the FAE and he wasn’t threatening.

  For the first time in weeks, he strapped his sword belt to his waist and rested a hand on its hilt. Edin took another drink from the flask and watched as Arianne turned around with a large smile.

  They locked eyes and she pointed up toward something. He tried to follow her arm, but couldn’t exactly follow it. Edin saw in the distance, beneath the gigantic mountain was a large stone castle. It was gray as a dull blade that hung over the rest of the city that spread out from the mountain like a flower with half its pedals torn off.

  Wooden wheels began to clack on the dock as men appeared with carts, dollies, and wheelbarrows. Some stood at the edge of the pier grabbing things and loading them. Crew men were pulling hard on a rope lowered into the grated hatch that led to the cargo hold.

  “Ahoy captain.” A man called as he walked up the gangplank. He was dressed in a colorful robe of light blue. He had salt and pepper hair with a thin beard jutting directly from his chin to his chest with a golden band tied an inch before the bottom.

  Edin glanced at the captain and saw the film was gone from his eyes.

  Ashica looked toward the man. “Oler.”

  “Did you get the leathers I was requesting?” Oler was climbing the stairs then stopped an arm’s length from Edin.

  “I did. They’ll be delivered to the shop when they’re brought up.”

  The man slapped his hands together and grinned. “Excellent. Le Fie.” Oler said nodding at the spy and then turned to Edin. “And who are you, young sir?”

  “Edin.”

  “He’s a foundling… or more precisely a runner.”

  “I didn’t know we were expecting any newcomers.”

  “They are never expected, are they?”

  Oler chuckled. “Correct you are, sir. Well anyways welcome to Delrot.” He looked Edin up and down for a moment and pursed his lips. “It takes a while for commoners to incorporate into the city but I’m sure you’ll fit right in.”

  “Edin de Yaulton. A nobleman from northern Resholt,” Le Fie said.

  “Doesn’t dress like one, does he?”

  “And he’s the son of Rihkar Harlscot.”

  The man looked at Le Fie and then back at Edin with a more appraising gaze. “I can see it… Hmm. Well, you’ll certainly need a bit of help with your appearance before you meet the FAE. My wife will help you out, she runs a salon in the merchant quarter, a twenty-minute walk.”

  “A salon?” Edin asked.

  “A nobleman and he doesn’t know a salon? It’s where a man or woman can go to be made up.”

  Edin didn’t know that term. It must’ve shown on his face.

  “Made to look nice.” Ashica chuckled. “I wouldn’t be caught dead in a place like that.”

  A moment later Flack appeared on the deck and Arianne ascended the steps. “These are the other two newcomers. Arianne and my son Flack.”

  “Flack,” Oler said. “Any son of Ashica’s is a son of mine.”

  “That won’t get you a better deal on the leather,” Ashica said.

  Oler looked aghast in an almost comical way. He dropped his jaw and shot a hand to his heart. “I would never assume for you to drop your prices.”

  “Good. Then hand me the gold and I’ll deliver your order.”

  “I must inspect it first.”

  Ashica waived his hand and Oler left down the steps. “He’s friendly when he wants something… and one thing he always wants more of is information.” Ashica said.

  Edin turned toward Le Fie, “you told him who my father is.”

  Le Fie shrugged, “We are not hiding who you are… are we? Your lineage will get to the Praesidium eventually, I just fast tracked it. Now, let’s get you three off this ship and take you to the salon.”

  “They have a salon? Why didn’t you say so?” Arianne almost shouted her glee. “I haven’t had a real pampering for a thousand years.”

  Ashica and Le Fie both raised their eyebrows. Flack was staring at the deckhands who worked like they’d been trained to do their jobs by a wicked sergeant-at-arms.

  Edin carried their shared pack. He’d been surprised to find it aboard the Castilander when he woke. Apparently, one of the Raven’s men broke into their room at the inn and brought it to the ship.

  Arianne took his hand as they followed Le Fie.

  Edin wondered why the spy, assassin or whatever was playing guide. Edin assumed he’d have to report to his masters?

  They wound their way between fish mongers, merchants, deck hands, and shiny robed folk who went about their day.

  He gaped at the stone buildings, thin and tall and all painted in more colors than he could imagine. Thick wooden timbers held up wide porches. Residents were sunbathing, gabbing, reading, or just watching. The street was a colorful with precisely laid flagstone. Every seam was expertly fitted.

  Despite the beating sunshine, it felt perfect. Not warm enough to sweat or cold enough to cover. Children ran around without shirts and with trousers cut at the knee.

  “How many people live here?” Flack asked.

  Edin thought he heard Le Fie answer thirty thousand. Maybe forty. Flack kept asking questions, ‘where was this thing or that, can everyone use the beach? Where’s the university?’

  Edin hadn’t seen a beach, but it sounded intriguing.

  After a bit, he began ignoring them as the sea of humanity grew tighter. Edin caught people looking him over. A pretty red headed woman raised a thin eyebrow at them and Arianne squeezed his hand. She pulled him through a narrow group of magi and pursed her lips when he took a sip from the flask.

  A man appeared in front of them looking off toward a distant group. He wore a metal helm and a golden tabard with a fist on it. Looking at his face in profile, Edin could almost see Foristol.

  Another drink.

  A little less than half an hour later, they reached the salon. It was a small bright pink shop set between taller buildings. Like the rest of the street, the front windows were large and overlooked painted planters with petunias, roses, lilies and other flowers he didn’t know. As they entered, the room was awash with overwhelming perfumes and oils.

  Chairs sat before mirrors, almost all were filled with women as were the people cutting hair. The workers and clients were chattering in every seat.

  “Good day Le Fie… don’t expect you’re here for a trim?” Said a woman with light skin and reddish, nearly purple, hair.

  He snorted a bit. “Of course not Nilisaand, just these three.”

  She turned toward Arianne and smiled, then Flack, and the smile faltered. As she
looked at Edin it disappeared. “Well, we’ve got some work to do. They have coin?”

  “Here.” Le Fie said tossing a small purse to her. A moment later he turned toward the door but didn’t leave. “Flack here is Ashica’s kid, treat him well.”

  Nilisaand nodded.

  “And this is Rihkar’s boy.”

  “Rihkar?” She looked at Le Fie, then at Edin giving him an almost calculating stare. “Well that won’t do at all. Come with me.” She gripped Edin’s wrist and began dragging him away. “First thing’s first, you need a bath and a good soap. I assume you know how to wash yourself?”

  “Umm… yes.”

  “Doesn’t look like it.” She took him to a door at the back and pushed him into a steamy room with the sounds of flowing water all around. There were three inground tubs where steam rose and water bubbled. “Soap is there, towels, wash cloths and… well from the smell of your breath, I’d say you don’t need the wine. I’ll be back in thirty minutes.”

  Edin bathed, drank the whiskey until the flask was empty, and washed. The water was comfortable, a little hot maybe. His red skin said that at least.

  The bubbles rose from small openings. They caressed him before floating to the surface and exploding with a pop.

  He scrubbed himself till he was even redder, peeling away the grime before finally leaving the bath in a white robe that Nilisaand had provided.

  She was fussing over Flack’s hair; the kid didn’t want it trimmed short like his father’s. At least that was what Edin got from the conversation.

  Edin found a chair next to Arianne. He could only tell because of her long blond hair. Her face was covered in some green paste.

  “That looks like bile,” Edin said.

  Arianne turned toward him, dunked her hand in some tub of the stuff and slapped it on Edin’s face.

  “Your face needs to exfoliate.” She didn’t smile but there was laughter in her tone.

  “Hello, young sir,” a woman said walking up behind him, he could see in the mirror, she was pretty, a bit older than he, though there was some odd claylike substance on her face.

  “Hi, are you my groomer?”

  Arianne snorted, green gunk splattered the mirror in front of her.

  “Groomers work on horses and dogs…” The woman said. “Though seeing the state of you when you entered, I can see why you’d get confused.”

  Arianne let go and laughed heartily next to him.

  They began working on his nails, trimming and scrapping at them until his digits hurt. They left his hair alone, it was barely a half inch now, but they gave him another shave.

  A short while later, Nilisaand appeared with three large garment bags like the one’s Sandon’s tailor had brought.

  He was ushered into a small changing room. Opening them, he found the entire outfit was black. Boots, trousers, tunic, and jerkin. Though the jerkin had a symbol on the right side of the chest. A large gloved fist with rings on each finger, red, green, white, and two shades of blue.

  He stared at the pattern for a moment wondering why it looked familiar.

  Flack appeared in the same outfit. “Black? I’m already black. With all of the colors I’ve seen in this place, why do they need to make the clothes so dull?”

  “Feels like a uniform.”

  Flack sighed. “I suppose. So what now?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “You’re to meet the FAE in an hour.” A voice came from the doorway. Le Fie was standing there, arms crossed and looking them up and down. He moved toward Flack, grabbed a loose piece of cloth on his shoulders and tugged it straight. He wiped a brown spot on the kid’s knee and then looked again. He nodded and turned to Edin.

  He tugged and pulled like a man trying to verify a slew of knots wouldn’t slip. He pulled at the belt that held Edin’s longsword.

  “You are a philios,” Le Fie said, his face was stern but Edin understood.

  That is all you are. Edin nodded.

  Arianne was in a long black skirt with a black blouse. It was a much more feminine uniform, but clearly designed by the same unimaginative person. The fist was much larger though, covering her midriff all the way up to her chest.

  “This is awful,” Arianne said as she pulled her necklace out from beneath the top.

  Then he saw the connection, why they looked so familiar. The gemstones on her necklace, they were from the crown and were supposed to be the same as the fist symbol.

  “Put those away,” Edin whispered.

  She raised an eyebrow but he just tapped the symbol on his chest. She tucked them back into her blouse before anyone could see them.

  “You still look beautiful,” Edin said.

  “You look… better.” She grinned and kissed him.

  It took a while before all the fussing was over, and they headed up the flagstone road. Up because that was the way the road lead. The foot traffic lessened as a castle loomed. It hid behind a small wall, barely eight feet high. The city, although much more colorful, could’ve been anywhere.

  “That’s the university,” Le Fie said pointing at a huge square building that took up multiple city blocks. It was a dull gray like the castle.

  Across the boulevard, he noticed a large sign that read Delrot Magi Appropriation Services.

  “The last piece of my father’s kingdom.” She sighed. “You know, this place was a dead island when our ancestors first found it. Even the volcano was dead.”

  Edin looked up at the giant mountain holding the castle in its shadow.

  “Now look at the place: a thriving city, towering buildings, a gracious people. It is all a testament to how wonderful the magi are.”

  Edin looked at a depiction of a man in a bright robe preaching, he hoped it was preaching at least, over a cowering crowd.

  “That’s Taming the Populous, a reproduction, the original hung in Vostine. It’s meant to depict our nature, our power and standing with relation to the mundane world. Even your elf friends. See the group off to the right.” She pointed.

  Edin noticed the large eared elves off to the side wearing tattered rags for clothes. Edin adjusted his grip on Arianne’s hand. It was sweaty.

  Despite all of the colorful buildings, it was odd that the castle and university… and a tower to the west were the only gray structures.

  As they approached, he saw the seamless walls curving around the castle and melding into the mountain.

  They moved through the open gate.

  Flanking it was a pair of lackadaisical guards who barely even looked at their group. Both wore light blue capes hanging off the sides of their shoulders.

  “Wind magi,” Le Fie explained. “We’re very color coordinated here.”

  “It’s always been that way,” Arianne said absently.

  Le Fie glanced at her quizzically but said nothing.

  Beyond the gates, they came to a large courtyard, flower beds ran along a red cobblestone path. Thin trees skirted paths splitting off to the left and right like fences.

  Carved statues stood tall in the flower beds, all men and women with long robes. Some held blades, others staffs. One man was blindfolded but somehow looked fierce…

  The path opened into a large palatial patio with a huge fountain in the center. A trio of birds made to look as if in flight were sprouting water from their beaks.

  As the group rounded the fountain, he noticed three men at the far side. Two stood in front of a man sitting lazily on the fountain’s edge. He had a foot on the surround as if he owned the place, the other two were laughing absurdly loud.

  Suddenly, the laugher’s head snapped around, he was fair skinned, had a beak for a nose, and had the same dark locks of Le Fie.

  He took a passing interest in the group, glanced at their escort then stared more intently. He was young, early twenties maybe. They locked eyes and Edin noticed a twitch of the lip.

  The man whispered something and an even more boisterous, perhaps sycophantic, laugh exploded from his companions.
>
  Edin ignored it. About ten yards before the wide stone steps that led to the huge red steel front door, they turned right. More statues flanked them, some men, and some animals.

  “Where are we going?”

  “The Praesidium,” Le Fie said.

  Arianne took a deep inhalation of breath, she stopped and squeezed his hand harder. She was staring at one statue. An man, in his forties, Edin guessed.

  He looked to the base, there was a nameplate in gold.

  King Alcor Bestavienne

  Final Ruler of the Kingdom of Bestoria

  The statue barely resembled the painting he’d seen, but Arianne seemed to have knew the face just the same.

  “What is it?” Le Fie asked. He and Flack had stopped a few yards before them and were staring.

  “It’s nothing,” Edin said quickly giving her hand another squeeze. He caught her eye, there were tears beginning to form. He tried to smile, but she looked away.

  “I’m okay,” she said wiping her eyes. She didn’t look okay, but this wasn’t the time. They hadn’t discussed what she would say when she arrived. Where she was from, who her parents were…

  Edin didn’t think that saying ‘I’m the heir to your throne, let me rule you,’ would sit well with this FAE.

  They moved on, Le Fie took them toward a giant domed building near the eastern wall. More statues flanked the arched opening and a grooved colonnade ran around the outer perimeter.

  There were flowers around it and other small statues.

  Above the entrance was the likeness of a woman with a book and a man with a gavel. Below it, etched in seamless stonework was a phrase he couldn’t read.

  “It says Grand Praesidium of Delrot,” Arianne said.

  “You speak Ulstapish?” Le Fie asked.

  She nodded once.

  An inner wall ran even to the colonnade making a sort of outdoor hallway that curved beyond sight. Le Fie led them forward through an arched doorway and stopped. He

  stood at the center not making a sound.

  Edin skirted to one side and saw a huge indoor amphitheater. At least twenty, maybe even thirty rows of benches descended toward a platform at the bottom. A long judges bench sat in the middle with three men. Two in the center and one off to the right like the weird kid at a school lunch.