Stemming the Tide

by Rosie Scott

  Because Tenesea focused on trading goods over gold, we could not afford to pay our newest crew members their share of gold for the meager shipment we delivered after all our difficulties. Thankfully, that we'd gained Vallen's trust and risked our lives many times over to bring the city necessities spread through the populace; traders of all types were willing to work with us in anticipation of building long-term partnerships. Soon, Koby had an ever-growing list of needed supplies in his satchel. Craftsmen requested resources from us for future voyages, and in exchange, they fitted our newest underpaid crew members for armor. Hilly picked out a tri-headed flail and round shield that she claimed were similar to the equipment she lost when pirates captured her long ago.

  Sage wasn't as lucky and struggled to find an appropriate weapon. Greatswords weren't popular in the wildlands, for warriors relying on strength over finesse tended to be beastmen who required no additional weapons. Before he could find an alternative, Sage went into surgery. That night, I focused on fixing Sage's problem. The soft-spoken man hadn't found a greatsword, but he also seemed unwilling to inconvenience a blacksmith by asking them to make one. I wasn't so timid; after asking around and coming across a bit of uncharacteristic luck, I found a skilled blacksmith whose good friend, Sireli, was Celdic. Though Sireli had never been in the army, she claimed to know enough about the greatswords of the Knights of Celendar to be able to help her friend faithfully recreate one. While the blacksmith requested supplies in exchange for his work, Sireli requited my flirtations and gave me directions to her apartment located in the vertical midpoint of Tenesea, where I was all too happy to spend the night.

  I awoke early the next morning to harsh knocking. Confused, I groggily opened my eyes, expecting to see the spacious traveler's dormitory where I often slept. When I instead noticed enclosed walls and a half-naked Celdic woman dressing quickly near the door, the events of the night before rapidly came back to me. I attributed the hasty knocking to an angry lover and jumped out of bed, grabbing my discarded clothes in a frenzy.

  Sireli glanced over at my scrambling and said, “I thought you were single.”

  I hopped up and down to tug up my pants quicker. “I am.” Nodding toward the door, I added, “I figured all that knocking meant you weren't.”

  Sireli shook her head, pulling her long dark locks out of the neck hole of her shirt. She managed an amused smile at our bewildering situation before opening the door.

  Morning sunlight filtered into the tree from a window facing east, highlighting the pure wooden hallway with an amber glow. Kali stood in the light, her arms crossed and bright green eyes looking over Sireli with polite approval.

  “Good morning,” Sireli greeted with the slight hesitance of unfamiliarity.

  “Morning,” Kali replied, flicking her eyes over the woman's shoulder to meet my gaze. “I've been running all around this damn overgrown plant trying to track you down, boss.”

  I huffed and pulled my shirt over my head. “Apologies.”

  “Don't apologize, just give me a raise.” When Sireli smirked at the request, Kali gave the other woman a cheesy grin.

  “Says the most expensive member of the crew,” I muttered, sitting on the edge of the bed to pull on my boots.

  “Not when we all get equal shares,” Kali retorted.

  “So you want the biggest share of all.”

  “Absolutely. I'm clearly better than the rest of you.”

  I chuckled at Kali's jest and stood. Sireli stepped to the side to let me pass, though she asked, “How long are you staying in Tenesea?”

  “As long as it takes to build a ship,” I replied.

  Sireli reached out to brush my arm flirtatiously as I passed. “I'll see you around, then.”

  I halted, tugged Sireli close, and nuzzled her by the ear. “I'll see you tonight, love, if you're up for it.”

  Sireli giggled with a mixture of surprise and delight. “Just knock and I'll let you in.” As I separated from her again, she requested, “Bring ferris.”

  “Will do,” I promised, joining Kali in the hall.

  Kali led the way, slowing her pace as I dawdled to light a cigarette. As I inhaled its herbal magic, Kali shook her head in amusement beside me.

  “What?” I prodded.

  “It's weird seeing you so affectionate.”

  “Then don't show up at my door early in the morning after a night of sex,” I retorted dryly. Kali snorted before I continued, “How'd you find me, anyway? I'm assuming you didn't follow me last night and pitch a tent.”

  Kali laughed. “No. You were bragging yesterday about having somewhere to stay in the mid-level apartments with a gorgeous Celd. Hunting down slavers in Nahara made me a good snooper, and the only other Celds on this floor are hideous.” She hesitated as I chuckled at her joke. “Speaking of which, that Celd was gorgeous.” Kali fanned herself.

  “You say that like it's a surprise.”

  “You're not the pickiest man in the world, boss.”

  I shrugged and smirked.

  We reached the stairwell at the end of the hall. Kali started trotting upward. I frowned and followed. “Where are you taking me?”

  “Your reaction times need work,” Kali teased. “I'm taking you to see Sage. He's in recovery and specifically asked for you.”

  “How would you know? I've seen you exchange maybe a dozen words with him.”

  “I stayed with Jayce again last night,” Kali replied. “Her apartment is right across the hallway from Vallen's. He came by this morning to tell me since it was convenient and he couldn't find you.”

  “You're spending an awful lot of time with Jayce,” I commented. “I hope you know what you're getting into.”

  Kali scoffed. “I'm just having fun, boss. The crazier they are, the better they are in bed.”

  “That explains my charm.”

  Kali chuckled and playfully hit my arm. “You know how to get to the hospital from here, right?”

  “I know where it is. You're dismissed.”

  Kali grinned and bowed dramatically on the stairwell landing before we parted ways.

  Tenesea's hospital was in the upper mid-tier of the massive tree. It was a convenient location for the patients who often came from lower levels seeking treatment for battle wounds and the surgeons and alchemists that were permanent residents in the upper floors. Like most places of high importance, the hospital stretched across an entire level of Tenesea from its east to west stairwell.

  Underground, healthcare services were so uncommon that the word hospital was foreign to Koby and me before our surface classes in Silvi. If Alderi were injured, they usually took care of it through trade or favors; the act of going to a location specifically for healing was unheard of. The uncaring Alderi culture wasn't concerned with keeping its people alive or healthy, after all. Vallen claimed Tenesea's hospital was primitive and small compared to others on the surface, but to an ex-slave like me, it was a marvel.

  Vertically rectangular windows brightened the hospital from regular intervals along the tree's rounded exterior. Warm yellow sunlight reached through the level from its eastern side. The windows had no glass, allowing the air to circulate continuously. Thick drapes treated with waterproofing alchemical concoctions blocked some windows, while others hung to the side. Regulating temperature and humidity in the middle of a swamp was a constant battle, and I learned more about it than I ever anticipated due to the unique requests Koby received for alchemy ingredients and prepared brews.

  Fabric and wood dividers separated the hospital into various makeshift rooms; haphazardly made signs directed visitors and workers through its maze, most posted on the solid wood support pillars scattered throughout the floor. As I found my way through the busy pathways and intersections, a woman's screams of mid-labor agony rattled through the air.

  I hesitated with uncertainty just outside Sage's room before going in. It baffled me that he requested me in particular. Any rapport we'd ever shared over our mutual physical ails was silent.
I wasn't soft-spoken like Sage, but I also didn't go out of my way to spark up conversation for reasons other than lust, so he and I talked little about anything other than work. If Sage expected comfort during his recovery, I doubted I knew the right things to say.

  Unwilling to put it off any longer, I inhaled deeply and stepped around the divider.

  Sage's warm smile was first to greet me. The tall man relaxed under a white sheet on a thin cot, propped up on pillows. Prepared potions, a roll of bandages, and two books cluttered a bedside table. As I took a seat in a wobbly wooden chair, Sage closed a third tome and added it to the pile before giving me his full attention.

  “How are you feeling?” I asked, wincing when the pregnant woman let out another ear-shattering wail.

  Sage waited for the screams to cease before he answered calmly, “Better than her, evidently.”

  The jest surprised me. I chuckled roughly and leaned back in my chair. “It's amazing how something as beautiful as sex can lead to such torture and chaos.”

  “That's a good way to describe labor,” Sage admitted.

  “I also meant children.”

  Sage laughed with surprise before sobering. “In Celendar, the royal families often have dozens of children over the centuries. A long-term quest for power and relevance, if you will. I always wondered if those families were miserable. Can you imagine having dozens of children? All of whom compete with and undermine each other for power? It sounds like hell to me.”

  “I can barely take care of myself half the time,” I replied, tugging out another cigarette and lighting it between my lips. “I can't imagine having one child, let alone dozens. From the outside looking in, Celendar's government sounds intriguing and ripe for corruption. I didn't know it was so different than the rest of Chairel.”

  “Its habits from once being its own country are not easily forgotten,” Sage said with a frown, his eyes blank with memories.

  “Were you alive during its annexation?” I asked curiously between puffs of ferris.

  “Me? No.” Sage shook his head. “Celendar lost its independence in 5641 G.E. I was born in 275 of this era. My mother, however, shared many stories of the forest before Chairel absorbed its territory. My mother was a proponent for peace, having spent her childhood in Celendar before Chairel took it. She was over four centuries old by the time she had me. I often thought that was why I felt so disconnected from her. Our relationship became further strained when I joined the army.”

  “Why did you join, then?”

  “Because sword-fighting enamored me. I wanted to get paid to hone my skill with little chance of having to go off to war. The Knights of Celendar are the last unit of Chairel's they call upon in times of unrest.”

  “Because the Celds resent war?” I asked.

  “That, and the Celds are more likely than any other race to die from stress cardiomyopathy,” Sage explained. “Sending units of Celds into war has only ever ended in tragedy.”

  “I don't know what that condition is,” I admitted.

  “Death from a broken heart, to put it simply. Seeing close friends and loved ones die kills us more easily than most.” Sage looked down at his fingers as he absently picked at his cuticles. “My mother often said that my joining the army would kill her of a broken heart because she claimed to know I would die in battle. I don't believe that because she never loved me enough to suffer stress at news of my death.”

  I raised my eyebrows at his blunt admission, somewhat expecting it to be a tactless jest. Sage seemed serious as he cleared his throat and went on, “Forgive me. You likely didn't expect your visit to be full of stories about Celendar.”

  “I expected to do all the talking,” I conceded. “I'm relieved that isn't the case, but I wish you'd tell me how your surgery went. Since you asked for me, I figured you needed something or wanted to complain about Vallen's work.”

  Sage chuckled low. “My surgery went as planned. I should be recovered enough to travel within the moon considering my recovery goes well. Forgive me for not saying sooner. Koby stopped by earlier to deliver these.” He motioned to the potions on the table. “Perhaps I figured you would have heard updates from him.”

  “No, I haven't seen him yet this morning. I spent the night elsewhere.”

  “Ah.” Sage met my gaze with a humbled look. “I asked for you so I could thank you. That you and Koby freed me in Llyr was enough. I didn't expect you two to provide for me when I have only barely joined your crew. I'm in some pain, but now that the tumor is gone, I know that'll eventually fade. I have you both to thank for that.”

  “You thank people as often as I have to apologize for bad decisions,” I joked.

  “Appreciation can never be overstated,” Sage argued lightly. After some silence, he asked, “Are you religious?”

  I huffed. “Sometimes.”

  “Which gods do you pray to?”

  “Whichever seem relevant to my ails at the time.”

  Sage chuckled softly. “Your honesty is refreshing. Most would likely share that perspective if they took the time to ponder it.”

  “What about you?” I asked.

  “In Celendar, I was raised to worship many gods. Gods of nature, healing, wildlife. I prayed every day, thanking them for their gifts and speaking of my dedication. Then I found the tumor. I started praying exclusively to Raphael, the god of healing, for a cure. Over the years, the tumor grew, and as it did the pain got worse and the numbness in my arm started. Thinking that perhaps Raphael frowned upon my greed in asking for a total cure, I instead started praying for pain relief. When that didn't work, I prayed for simple direction in finding a mortal healer. Raphael—the god I'd dedicated so much of my time and gold to over the years, the very embodiment of healing—refused to answer my prayers, even when I'd amended my requests to be more convenient for him to grant.”

  “If you stopped believing in gods over this, I don't blame you,” I said with sympathy.

  “I don't know if I'm a non-believer of the gods,” Sage replied, “but I've become a believer of people. Even if the gods exist, they lifted no fingers to help me. I am now cured, and Raphael had nothing to do with it. It took the kindness of two men who were strangers to me just a year ago.”

  “I sympathized with your pain,” I said like an excuse. “I know how it feels. It's a constant reality for me.”

  Sage nodded. “Yet, there is no quick surgery that can relieve you like you have found for me. Your kindness has inspired my loyalty. As soon as I recover, I will dedicate my life to aid you, against the slavers and beyond. If your pain troubles you, you can rely on me to help with even the simplest of tasks or to lend an ear. Like you said, I know how it feels. I will not doubt or tease you.”

  Silence permeated the air between us. Sage's serious tone indicated his pledge was genuine. It reminded me of the conversation I'd had with Patrick on the seas long ago when he offered me kindness. Like then, I wasn't used to it and struggled to find words.

  “Unless you ask me to tease you,” Sage finally continued with a small smile, sensing my uneasiness. “I've come to understand by this point that you and your crew members tease and insult each other as a means of bonding, so if you'd rather me do that I could always think of something fancy.”

  Though I chuckled at his jest, a wave of relief flowed through me from Sage's offer. Despite our differences, he sympathized with my plight and could be a fantastic conversationalist once he warmed up to someone. Finding his candor hard to replicate, I responded with humor as I often did, and the air between us remained light-hearted. For once, however, I felt truly lucky to be surrounded by good people.

  Eight

  58th of Dark Star, 358

  While northern Arrayis froze over, moody skies blanketed the wildlands in shadow. Red Moon and Dark Star were sometimes called the dark seasons here due to the stormier weather. Lands below Arrayis's equator didn't get cold at any point in the year, but the rolling charcoal clouds that held the sun hostage made the marshes
significantly cooler.

  The outskirts of Tenesea appeared particularly beautiful while cowering under the sky's promise of a storm. I stared over the land from the extended overhang of Vallen's high-level apartment. It was enclosed with gigantic glass-less apertures. Flowing deep blue drapes hung on either side of each opening, but Vallen rarely used them. With the windows open and clear, being this high in the tree felt like flying. With a twinge of pain, I thought of Aysel and her dreams of flying. She'd been so attracted to the idea because she sought freedom from a troubled past. That I'd never discovered exactly what she had run from was a regret I still carried with me. It seemed I constantly played catch-up with the people in my life. Only after deaths and tragedies could I think of the right things to say, and then none of it mattered.

  My mind traveled from Aysel to Neliah as the ferris I chain-smoked worked doubly hard to combat my pessimism. Both women had troubled pasts. I was too late to comfort or aid Aysel, but Neliah still lived. Considering I'd already lost two people I cared for in mere years on the surface, I couldn't know how long I had with anyone else. I wanted to grow closer to Neliah, learn her story, and comfort her as she'd done for me many times, but she still avoided me after my flirtatious admission. Perhaps she awaited an apology, or maybe she considered leaving our crew. In my social ignorance, I didn't know whether it would be better to leave her alone or attempt to re-connect, so I did nothing.

  A light morning rain fell across the horizon like glimmers of silver against a backdrop of dark green and gray. Standing water danced in patterned ripples and foliage trembled with the tease of precipitation. Most civilians working in the outskirts of Tenesea didn't blink or change their pace. Some prepared open-top desalinators to gather freshwater, while a few Alderi took their shirts off, taking advantage of the higher humidity and convenient bath. Near the wooden walkway that circled northwest from Tenesea's entrance, a few mixed-race children jumped in puddles and chased after frogs. One of them, a girl, was half-Alderi. With some sadness I wondered if she knew her full-blooded Alderi father. The child had no cultural relation to the dark-skinned women of the underground, but I imagined her father harbored resentment, regardless. Decades if not centuries of fear based on appearances is hard to unlearn, after all.