The Sage's Reign

by Shakyra Dunn

  “So, what’s the plan?” Rem asked.

  “Tomorrow morning, we will go to Nilu,” Solus stated. “For now, I think we could use some downtime. We didn’t get to see the sights the last time that we were here.”

  “Let’s go to a party!” Sien suggested, well out of the touring mind-frame. “Kinsley’s seaside bashes are the best! I gotta try their booze!”

  “This isn’t the time to run around in some drunken frenzy,” Leilana stated.

  Sien rested her hands on her hips, beaming. “It’s for research! I do run a tavern, you know. Gotta establish more ground work!”

  “We can attend an event if we don’t have to use an arm and leg in exchange for a few tickets,” Solus replied. Rem held up a finger to interject. “And if Rem doesn’t have to use his name just to get us into some swanky party. We’ve run enough risks as is.” Rem lowered his hand, rolling his eyes. “Until we figure out our financial situation for the evening, we have to make do with what we have. Remember that we don’t have money to spare.”

  “Maybe they offer odd jobs around here to pay wages,” Leilana suggested. “You guys can go and see the sights. I think I’ll do some research on what we can do financially.”

  “I’ll tag along with you, Leilana,” Solus told her. “It might be easier to manage with two heads.”

  Amiria cleared her throat. “I’ll scope out the area and see if there are any members of the Order of Helix running around. Maybe Master Hinju is with them and I can try to get some answers. It’s not likely to happen, but it’s bound to help if I at least observe everything.” Rem found the idea of her diving headfirst into danger on her own unsettling, but she seemed confident, and he couldn’t go against her wishes. She was a sonic wave all on her own.

  “Sien and I will hit the party scene and listen to all the gossip,” Rem stated.

  Sien was giggling wildly at the remark, interlocking her hands around one of Rem’s arms, swinging them to-and-fro. “Ooh, I adore gossip in the restless streets.”

  “How will we know where to meet?” Amiria asked.

  “Oh, I know!” Rem piped up. “Solus and I bypassed a bakery when we first arrived. It’s smack dab in the middle of town, and it was crowded with people. I think it was called Saimun.”

  “Saimun?” Leilana and Amiria repeated, both with raised eyebrows.

  Solus chuckled. “It’s ‘sanctuary’ in Sentience.” Leilana nodded to herself; ‘Saimun’ was derived from the Minsuran word ‘Seimiruna,’ meaning ‘haven.’ Still, Kinsley was out of reach to most. There was no telling when things could change. It seemed smart that Amiria was taking early action. “Some people see Kinsley as a haven from the chaos that falls between the borders. It’s right at the edge of the world. Maybe that café wanted to reflect the same perspective.”

  “We’ll reconnect at Saimun before it gets too late then,” Amiria replied, folding her hands in front of her. “Good luck, everyone!”

  Solus and Leilana spent their day maneuvering through the crowded streets delivering vegetables and fresh fish to a variety of shops as a task from the sailors on the dock. It was worth it solely for a good word at one of the local inns for a single night. Leilana toted a bag of vegetables over her left shoulder while Solus carried a cart of fish behind him, his sleeves rolled up, his hair pulled into a slick ponytail.

  “Are you sure that you don’t want my help with that?”

  Solus chuckled. “No need. I’ve had to shoulder a lot more than a cart of fish. Sort of the price of being a servant to the prince—you get free room, board, and three meals a day, but it leaves you with hard labor. This is nothing. Besides, I missed being able to work for the things that I desire. It’s been a nice change of pace from fighting battles.”

  “Do you think it’ll ever end, the fighting?”

  “It will take time for the conflict to boil out, and reconstruction will be on the horizon, but we must keep faith in the world’s evolution and those that prosper in it. Everyone has a part to play in this lifetime. We are only a small part of this vast growth.”

  “I can’t help feeling like we’re missing something bigger.”

  “Sometimes it comes to us, and other times we will have to dive headfirst and see what we can pull from the ashes of our reasoning.”

  Leilana playfully shook her head as he turned to face her, finally taking in that she stopped walking. “You seem to have a response for everything, you know that?”

  “When you work as an ally to the kingdom, your responses must be light on your feet. When you are close friends with someone as reckless and temperamental as Remiel, you get into spirited arguments that require you to get the upper hand as often as you can, so that you can poke his brain until it bleeds.” Leilana cringed. She never imagined that Solus could use such gruesome, yet clearly casual phrasing. “The restaurant should be just up ahead. What do you say we rid ourselves of this pungent odor?”

  “Fish always did smell strange,” she agreed. Changing the subject was the better move right now; it out-ruled concern, to say the least.

  They approached a tiny shop that went by the name ‘Pulina Yin,’ which Solus translated for her as ‘Mystic Sea.’ Seemed fitting for a seafood shack. Leilana took a good whiff of what she believed was baked fish and saw Solus’s mouth already salivating at the aroma. Fish may have had a foul odor when it was fresh off the brine, but when it was prepped to perfection, there was no denying the delicacy. Leilana pushed open the glass door with her right hand, the chime of the tiny bell filling her ears. She was drawn to the reminiscent sound. Solus brought the cart through the front door.

  “Delivery, fresh from the sea!” Solus called, waving his hands over the cart. “The sailors send their regards!”

  The man at the booth chuckled. “Thank you, we were running low on catfish to prepare for tonight’s event.”

  “No trouble.” Leilana set the vegetables on the counter, practically diving for one of the onions that slipped through the plastic. Her fingertips didn’t even trace the vegetable before it began levitating a few centimeters from the ground. She drew back her left hand and grabbed the vegetable with her right hand instead. Strange, she didn’t recall having the ability to levitate more than her grimoire. Nobody around her seemed to notice, so she decided to take it in stride.

  “So, this event,” Leilana began. “It’s our first time in Kinsley, and we were going since we will only be here for one night. Is it expensive to enter?”

  “It’s a tourist attraction,” the clerk stated. “It usually is inexpensive to enter, it’s just the matter of what you plan to do that can get a little pricey.”

  “Guess we’ll need to prioritize if it means we’ll sleep,” Solus suggested before resting a hand atop Leilana’s head. “Not that you are legally ready for it yet.” She rolled her eyes. Age limitations were always a factor, even if drinking was far from her desire. “Still, at least our companions can look forward to the fun that they were seeking. Thank you.”

  The clerk waved off the statement. “No problem. Try not to go too crazy out there, kids. It’s easy to get swept up in the city life.”

  Amiria was sitting on the shoreline when Rem found her. Sien took off for the local pub to try and taste test for the owner in preparation for tonight’s main event, her own way of securing a place in the venue. Knowing that alcohol was going to be involved, Rem decided it better to leave her to it. She could handle herself that long without getting more than tipsy, right? Silently, he took a seat next to her. She didn’t face him, drawn to the palette of salty air on her tongue and the sight of the shimmering sun on the horizon, reflecting upon the aquamarine ocean.

  “I’ve heard many tales about Kinsley,” he began. “Everyone calls this place a haven because there is nothing but happiness. Every night, there is a celebration, and every day, the people of the city work to make sure that there is something worth celebrating.” Rem’s words seemed a bit displaced by his thoughts, maybe even repetitive, but it was bette
r to accept things as they were.

  “It must be nice, being so carefree.”

  “Yeah, it can be. Sien is that way. Never bothers with too much drama, even when she’s the one causing it.” The mention of Sien made Amiria’s stomach turn. She had no vices against the girl despite their obvious dislike for one another, but Rem spoke of her in a spirited way.

  “I thought about being carefree when I left Magiten Academy, just like Kindall was,” she began. “It didn’t work out too well. I don’t think I’ll ever be more than a shy, timid girl.”

  “Sometimes it’s better to be the quiet person,” Rem told her. “It keeps you out of trouble. Thinking before you speak gives you time to figure things out. I wish I was more levelheaded. I guess that’s a partway why I was drawn to you. We’re misunderstood for two different reasons.”

  “I am an introvert by nature, and you are the prince seen and heard by the bounds of his title. There are selves that we show to those we love, whereas the world sees us as mere shells.”

  “It may be what they see, but it will never represent what we are. These faces that they see, they are one of many, and maybe one day they’ll be worthy of looking beneath the mask. After all,” He rested a hand on her chin, his eyes peering into hers. “I see your true face, Amiria. I always have.”

  She giggled, pulling away, her burning cheeks hidden behind her lavender hair. The silk texture grazing his hand when she broke from him still lingered on his fingertips, and he couldn’t help reaching towards it until she caught his gaze again. He hid his hand behind his back to conceal his desire. “Well, your face isn’t much better, even if it is more memorable. The world already knows Remiel Vesarus.”

  Rem rolled his eyes, tugging on a few strands of his shaggy locks. “Please, with hair like this? It’s amazing if someone doesn’t mistake me for a mop. Once all of this is over, I’m gonna have to go back to the person that I was before this war started.”

  “Who says that you have to?” Amiria leaned her head onto his shoulder. He laid his chin atop her head. “You’re going to be king soon, and you’ll get to have a little freedom. Won’t you have your say when the time comes? Nothing has to change if you don’t want it to.”

  “It’s never that simple. Becoming a king means more than making rules and securing the grounds.”

  “Well, why don’t you look at it this way then? Do you see yourself ruling the kingdom with a steel heart and an iron fist within five years?”

  “I haven’t thought much about it, but I know that I’ll never be the kings that my father and grandfather were. I can correct their mistakes, and unlike them, I won’t have to shoulder it all alone.”

  She grinned. “Of course not. You have all of us. We’ll always be there.”

  Sien slammed her mug on the table, wiping the liquor from her still-parched lips. Dry whiskey with a lemon twist, a unique combination. The spices were overpowering, but not nearly enough to bring her to her knees. She downed a fresh glass of water to cleanse her palate and rinse away the taste. “Bring on the next one!”

  “But, miss, how is it?” the clerk pleaded with her. This was the fifth mug of his creations that she’d gone through and she barely broke a sweat. To be so young and consume so much so quickly, the sight was phenomenal and surreal.

  “Too much spice, not enough kick,” she responded, leaning back in the chair. “You’ve gotta have more going for me, Winslow. Lay it on me, let’s go.”

  “Are you certain that you’re a professional and not a con artist?”

  Sien hiccupped as she sat upright, bouncing in her spot. “Totally am! I’m both of those! I’m a professional alcohol-tester, and I know how to get free booze out of it! I’ve got my own tavern back home, but I’m probably gonna move around, and I’m always happy to give you recipes! Next one, please!” Winslow was sulking as he went on his way, and Sien broke into laughter.

  “And how, might I ask, is such a tiny girl not dead from alcohol poisoning?” The man at the booth across from her piped up. Sien beamed, resting her head against the backboard to properly face the person that opened their lips. Meeting her gaze was a dark-haired stranger sipping nonchalantly on a steaming cup of… tea? Different. She could smell the chamomile. His eyes were closed, fixated on the atmosphere behind him rather than the new face in his presence.

  She rolled around, resting her arms on the backboard, her knees firmly planted in the seat. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop bouncing on the cushions. “I’m no lightweight.”

  He lowered his cup and wiped the remaining droplets from his lips. Sien curiously raised an eyebrow. The peach fuzz on his upper lip offered the idea that a mustache was growing in. She took notice of his pressed shirt, not a button out of place. His black fedora was slightly tipped over his eyes, and him looking down did nothing to help her get a glimpse of the mysteries beyond his serene face.

  “Lightweight or not, your liver won’t be able to handle it. Life won’t be kind to you if you keep drinking dark liquids at such a rapid pace.”

  “Well, what’s your excuse, Chamomile?”

  He opened one eye, and Sien was taken by the smoky shade of grey around his emerald irises. A smirk overtook his pursed lips, and he cleared his throat, amused by the nickname. “Chamomile, you say? Then should I give you the name ‘Darkness’ in place of your own?”

  “No, because that’s silly.”

  “Perhaps you could offer up your name then.”

  Sien blew some dust off her nails from the booth’s wood chippings. “Sien Kaiser.”

  “Sien, a shade of blue that rivals your seaside eyes, and Kaiser, a term for emperor. ‘The blue emperor.’ How unique.” Sien leaned against the cushioning shielding her back, smirking playfully. His articulate speech and intricate word-weaving reminded her greatly of Solus, but the way that he carried himself was regal, much like Rem.

  “So, what can I call you, since you don’t like Chamomile?”

  “Erya Kros,” he said simply, taking another sip of his tea. Sien furrowed her eyebrows. So, he was no better than a crow, flying in and out of bars? He seemed to have a dark heart. She could feel that in the aura he emanated. “I take it you aren’t from here. Kinsley, I mean.”

  “Nope, just visiting with some friends.” Even after Winslow had brought another drink for her to try, she set to twirling it around with her straw. As much as she loved her booze, this Erya Kros was holding her attention on a thread. “You a scholar?”

  “What gave it away?”

  “Oh, this and that,” she admitted. They shared nothing more than words, but he seemed to keep them close. That only drew her in further. This was the first interesting person she had come across that wasn’t arrogant or too forward. “Do you travel a lot?”

  “I get around when it’s convenient. I will be leaving here in the morning.” Sien stole a glance at her half-full glass, her stomach beginning to churn at the idea of drinking more. In seconds, her focus was snapped in two, and sobering up on a dime wasn’t an option. She was distracting her mind further by talking to this peculiar, yet attractive stranger. “You’ve stopped talking. Feeling ill, are we?”

  She swallowed. “No. Not that.”

  She listened to shuffling, and her eyes widened. Was he getting up to leave already? “I hope that we should meet again someday, Blue Emperor. For now, I have another engagement-” She shot up from the table and whirled around to face him, panting.

  Now that she caught a true glimpse of him, his dark hair was pulled into a low ponytail, and Erya stood at least half a foot taller than her. He had to be in his early twenties, about five years her senior. His hands were firmly planted in the pockets of his loose-fitting grey dress pants, and he stared at her. She felt just as appalled about why she’d suddenly jolted to a stand, but the rapid movement made her head spin and her stomach lurch. She forced down the bile rushing to meet her. Five cups were far too much, even if she had felt nothing before now.

  “T-The party tonight
,” she began. “You should come.”

  He grinned, shrugging his shoulders. “It’s not my style.”

  “Not mine either. I’m just testing the drinks to be served.”

  “What a bold-face lie,” he joked before holding up his index and middle finger to his forehead in form of a salute. “Enjoy the rest of your day, Blue Emperor.” He went on his way, and Sien was left standing, watching him exit the bar.

  “Is everything set?”

  Sentora placed his hands in his pockets, his eyes darting off to the right to avoid looking the man in the face. “The Prince and his entourage should be settled in Kinsley for the night. We made sure that he would be prepped for travel. They don’t suspect a thing.”

  “And what of Solus? How is he progressing?”

  “Master Kinaju isn’t making reports on him, and he goes off on his own more often than he should.” He extended his hands outwards in lieu of a shrug. “But who am I to go against the lord’s son?”

  Hinju rose from his spot, his hands firmly planted on his mahogany desk, his eyes ensnared by displeasure. Sentora took a step back, but his face remained unchanged. “You’re supposed to be keeping an eye on him, regardless of what title he may possess. He is not the one with importance to his name or uses to me. Find Kinaju and bring him to me.”

  “Of course.”

  “And when you reach Kinsley, I expect your job done correctly the first time. You are not to kill Prince Remiel, and you are to bring him and Solus back here alive. Any other casualties are your own. Your instructions have been made clear, and I will not repeat them, or your blood will stain my carpet.”

  “I won’t let you down, Master Hinju. I stake my life on it.”

  “I hope that this is okay.”

  “Relax, Leidibug, there’s nothing to worry about,” Sien told her, straightening the belt on the girl’s lavender dress. The dark flats on Leilana’s feet were loose due to the wear they had received over the months, but at least they were akin to her style. Sien, in contrast, was dressed in a plain white dress shirt and black skirt, her beads hanging low. “You look wonderful.”