Age of Azmoq: The Valantian Imperium

by Rajamayyoor Sharma

  Arundhati’s smile widened. “We shall see.” Rishyadh smiled as well. The three sages of silence departed from Sarvadrishya, knowing that things might be dramatically different the next time they meet.

  Chapter 14: The village of thieves

  Karn tries to remember how his life changed after meeting the young man from Villasboro…

  My first impressions of my new friend, the young man with an unknown name, were mixed. He seemed quite a strong fighter, with great close combat skill and unknown level of skill with the sword. He had a great and fair heart. But he was totally unaware of the world around him, trusting anyone and everyone. But I was happy that I met him. He definitely made the coming days much more bearable.

  After our encounter with the eight soldiers and our mutual agreement to travel together, we headed together to the first stop on his master’s map, the village of Nuevida. We didn’t really need to travel through the village, but my bull-headed friend insisted that we reach the village. It was a half good idea, as he didn’t have a horse, and by his own admission, had never ridden or even seen one before that day.

  On our path, I wanted to check how good he was with a sword. I was also curious to see if his sword was also made of Azmoq.

  “Hey, Dev,” I said, as I walked with him, and my horse, Arion, walked with us. Any onlooker would think we were a couple of fools walking with a horse, instead of riding it.

  “Ya, what is it?”

  “I was wondering… it might be a good idea for us to duel for a bit. Would be good to know your level of swordsmanship, so that we can function better as a team in case attacked again. Although I hope we aren’t.”

  He shrugged. “Sure, that sounds good. Although I must tell you, my skill is probably below novice. I just got this sword couple of weeks back and all I have learned is how to slash and stab effectively.”

  That was disappointing to know. But I had already asked for a duel, so it would look terrible to back off now. And I had taken on this kid’s responsibility, so I had to get him into shape.

  We started to duel. I took out only one of my back swords, Goujian. He wasn’t lying when he said he was bad. He slashed his sword with one hand, which I was easily able to parry. When I thrust in turn, he had no idea what to do, so he just jumped to the side after I slowed my attack.

  I asked him. “Why do you use only one hand? I do it because I use multiple swords in my fighting style, and hence I am considerably adept at generating power with just one hand. You should try to use both hands to hold as you will use only one sword.”

  He gave me a mysterious smile, which was a new expression on his face.

  “Do you think you can slash that tree into two with one strike of your sword, one or two handed?” pointing at a stout tree. It was quite thick. I didn’t understand what he was playing at.

  “May be not… Do you think you can?” I asked mockingly. He walked silently towards it, seemed to grip his sword in front of him, and swing. I wasn’t sure what I expected, but I didn’t expect him to cleave the tree into two halves. But that is exactly what happened. The tree was in two pieces in an instant, like it was made of paper. But then he dropped to his feet, and as I rushed to his aid, he was sweating profusely and seemed drained.

  “That was mind blowing! But what happened to you? Are you alright?”

  He replied, panting, as he collapsed onto the ground. “This is what happens… when I use my sword with my both hands… it cuts through the strongest of objects… with ease… but I then… lose all my strength….”

  “Then why did you do it, you nitwit?”

  He smiled as he closed his eyes, mostly to go to sleep. “I wanted you to see… that I will not be a burden.”

  I felt bad that I brought him to this state. But it was still good for us, as I understood firsthand what he was capable of. This was a great tactic for hopeless situations.

  As he lay there, panting, I took a closer look at the sword. It was a magnificent creation. The blade was made of Azmoq, although I wasn’t sure of its exact composition. The hilt was perfect for a one hand grip, but good for a two-handed attack as well. It was also connected to his left bracer with a thin Azmoq wire, enabling him to attack opponents at a distance with ease. But what really caught my eye was the jewel on the hilt. It was a large blue stone, completely transparent. I wondered about its purpose.

  It was possible that the stone was a Maktsten. But I really doubted if this sword could be that extraordinary. A Maktsten, the source of energy of many Azmoqian weapons, could never have been developed outside the capital without anyone’s knowledge. But I decided to keep a close eye on this sword and the jewel, especially during his two-handed slash. That would reveal its true nature.

  Dev slept for a couple of hours to recover, which I spent shadow dueling. But then I was really bored and eager to move on, so I shook him awake. No avail. After a couple of minutes, I gave him a sharp kick on his back.

  “Uhhh…. Whaa… what happened?” he said sleepily. As he started to stir, I hit him.

  “Wake up, sleeping beauty. I hope you weren’t lying there, waiting for a kiss.”

  “Wha… What are you saying?” he said, killing my joke then and there.

  “Nothing, nothing… Wake up! I am getting bored waiting around for you.”

  He got up in a hurry, suddenly wide awake. “Hey sorry about that. The slash really tires me out. Thanks for waking me up. Should we head towards the village? I am really, really starving.”

  This guy was amusing. We started walking towards Nuevida. I wanted to know more about his master, the man who created his weapons.

  “So, Dev, tell me more about your master. I am intrigued after your demonstration of your sword’s ability.”

  “Well, his name is Forresgrim. He is taller and has a better build than you. He is about sixty-five years of age. What else do you want to know?”

  “Thanks for sharing his profile and physique,” I said sarcastically, a tone I suspect was lost on him. “But I want to know a little more. Where did he learn his smithing? Where did he get the Azmoq? How did he come up with your weapon? Also a little bit more about his personality… You said you were his student… how is he as a teacher?”

  He took some time to think. “Well, he learned his smithing from his father. In our village, everyone learns the trade of their parent, unless they want to switch trades. Which you can do… but only if a person from the other trade wants to take your place. Anyway, I don’t know anything about his skills with Azmoq and but I guess he learned those from his father as well. I didn’t know he had any knowledge or skill with Azmoq until I chose to leave the village and he gifted me the Dhronari… That’s what this weapon is called.”

  “Curious…” I said under my breath. It was interesting that his master had chosen to name the sword after one of the legendary teachers, Dhrona, who pioneered work on the metal.

  “Did you say something?” He asked, having heard my muttering.

  “No, no… please continue. This is interesting.”

  “Well, I don’t know why it is interesting, but alright. About Grim’s personality and traits as a teacher… he is quiet… he doesn’t do a lot of active teaching… Whatever I learned, I learned by observing him. He did correct me wherever I went wrong, but that was it.”

  He paused for a bit. “What I learned in the past few weeks about him is more interesting.” He told me about his master jumping off cliffs into violent waters, killing men with his bare hands and being resistant to the Yerin poisons. That was actually incredible. I didn’t know how to believe it.

  “Are you really telling me that a sixty-five-year-old man can do all that? It is impossible. He is so old he should barely be able to walk fast.”

  He paused and looked at me quizzically, then some realization dawned upon him.

  “Oh right. Sorry I still don’t remember all these differences. In my village, a sixty-five-year-old is still young. The people of my village live till 130—140 years of a
ge. So it is not that he is an old man. What happened?”

  I was dumbfounded. I guess my sentiment reflected on my face. This guy was casually talking about people living till 130!

  “You really are naïve. You think you can casually mention the fact that there is a village full of super humans who have twice the normal lifespan, that no one knows about, and expect me not to be surprised?”

  “Well, I never said all were super human. Only my master seems to be. Others are more normal. But for the age part. That applies to everyone. So yes, it is a normal village with humans who live for twice the normal lifespan that no one knows about, with one man who is potentially super human.”

  I smiled and decided not to press the point. There was no real way for me to know the truth until I met his master and travelled to the village myself. Which I would eventually do, once this kid’s mission was accomplished. But if it was true, it was definitely possible that the jewel was a Maktsten. The only Maktsten larger than this, I had seen was during the duel of Titan and Varishtan, on their blades. I had to make sure that Dev understood this.

  “Still difficult for me to believe, my friend, but I’ll take your word for it.

  “Now, let me give you one advice you should very strictly follow. Please do not reveal so much about yourself to any stranger any more. You were lucky I wasn’t a criminal.”

  He raised his brow. I smiled and rolled my eyes.

  “Well ok, any more of a criminal that I already am. The point is I could have stolen your Azmoq weapons, taken your medallion and maps, captured you, made you reveal everything about your village and your master and then kill you. Each of these items you carry is enough for anyone to earn a lifetime’s worth of gold and jewels as reward. All of them together and the person can build a house on the High Seat itself and live like a king for the rest of their life.”

  Dev nodded. He narrowed his eyes at me. “It’s not that I don’t know how dangerous it is to talk about all of this. I told you everything because I trust you. And you did decipher the Azmoq part yourself. But to make sure no one else is able to get too much out of me, I’ll make sure not to mention my mission and anything about Azmoq. But how do I hide my weapons better? I can’t take them off as that’ll mean I am unprepared for combat. And also, what should I say my background is and where I am going?”

  Although the kid was naïve, he was intelligent. Everyone had to have a good cover, including me.

  “Your trusting nature is exactly the problem… But anyway, we’ll work on that. And good questions, kid. First things first. Hand me your weapons.”

  He took off his glove, bracers and sword and just gave it to me. Again, the level of trust astounded me. I could have just gotten on Arion and sped away with these weapons. He could not have done a thing.

  I took them all and rubbed some of the grass and underlying mud on all of the weapons. I then, tore off a piece of old cloth I had and wrapped it around the sword’s hilt as I held the weapon’s blade. I also broke some pieces of wood from the tree nearby and inserted it in the cloth around the hilt, which gave the impression that the hilt was an old wooden one, broken in places. The scabbard seemed dirty enough, but the bracer just repealed the dirt. I handed it all back to him.

  “Here you go. Wrap the same old cloth around the bracer once you wear it. To make it look realistic, put some blood on it.”

  He put all his weapons on, and after wrapping his bracer in the cloth, he cut himself on his arm and patted some blood on the cloth. Now he looked like a regular boy with an injured forearm and an old sword with a wooden hilt and a dirty scabbard. Then, he suddenly remembered something. He took out a dagger.

  “What about this? This is the assassin’s dagger. It doesn’t really fit my appearance, does it? How do we disguise this?”

  I took the dagger. It looked fairly familiar. The grip, the pommel, the blue strip on its hilt. But I couldn’t quite place it. I put it in my belt. “There. It can stay with me.” He nodded.

  After being satisfied with his appearance, I said, “Now to your second question. Your backstory. Well, let’s stick with the surroundings. I guess your village is located somewhere in Morgenia itself?”

  “Yes, it is quite nearby. It is near the Grand River.”

  “Interesting. But anyway… you should say you are a… a nomad, with your latest camp being a small settlement along the river. Show me your papers.”

  He stared at me as if I had asked him some tough math question. He had no clue what I was talking about. How was that possible? Could it be that his village was truly cut off from the rest of Morgenia?

  “How long has your village been isolated? How can you not have any papers? These have been mandatory for citizens for decades. Everyone except forest tribals have one.”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know for sure, but it has been definitely more than a century since the village was founded. And it was never in contact with the world since it came to be.” This complicated things. But then, our next destination was ideal for such issues.

  “No problems. We will get you a new name and identity soon enough. The village we are travelling to, has an excellent forger. There is a reason why this village is located where it is, just on the edge of the Deliganti Verde. Many people come to Nuevida, change their identity and move along the edge of the forest or live there to avoid authorities for some time.”

  He nodded. He seemed indifferent. He had no clue how important identity papers had become, especially in the last two years. We moved ahead, walking towards the village. He then asked me, “What is the Deliganti Verde?”

  I laughed. “I keep forgetting how much you don’t know. It is the name of the forest you emerged from. Deliganti Verde, the forest of green illusions. It is rumored that the forests cause people to hallucinate and lose their mind. That is why even the most hardened fugitives stay at its edge and not enter it.”

  He just nodded. I was curious. “What did you call the forests around you?”

  “Well, we called it by its actual name, Vanyamay. Why did the world change it to… something, Verde?”

  It was interesting. This kid seemed to use Deusorthok far more than anyone else I had met. I had learned it as it gave me access to a lot of literature on Azmoq, which was mostly in Deusorthok. But it seems like the village that he was from, the use of Deusorthok was still prevalent.

  “Well, Dev, the people of Valantia have moved away from using Deusorthok a long time back. They moved back to whatever their local language was over a millennium back, before Deusorthok became the norm.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t get it. I get that the common tongue is easier to pick up than Deusorthok. But why move away from Deusorthok for names of places? They work so well!”

  While that was true, I told him what I understood about the evolution of language and how we came to be where we were.

  “Well, I can tell you what I understand. Over thousands of years, different languages evolved in different parts of the world. As trade and connectivity increased in the world, they slowly began to influence each other. Some words, some parts of the grammar started to become common. Then, about two millennia ago, many scholars from various sections of the world realized where this was heading.

  They felt, as the world got closer and closer, there would be a need for a common language, which seemed to be evolving organically anyway. So they decided to come together, and lay down the alphabets, grammar, and word formation rules for a common language. Thus over the next few decades, a language, which we now call Deusorthok, evolved.

  But given the language borrowed from hundreds of languages prevalent at that time, it was an extremely complicated, albeit exhaustive language. The logic of the language was infallible, its use of all parts of the human voice, comprehensive. But it was still too complicated for the common man to use. In a few centuries, the conquest of the seven great kings began. Within a few decades, the world was under one rule. And this one rule needed a common language. A need fulfille
d, by Deusorthok, complicated although it was.

  But the difficulty in adopting this language was apparent. Although a lot of the official documents, communication and scientific thinking did shift to the new language, the common people found it extremely difficult to use the language that the seven kings asked them to use. The seven kings understood this difficulty. So they stopped insisting that people use Deusorthok. But the kings were disappointed with the result. They soon realized that the complexity of the language was the problem, an issue that couldn’t be resolved centrally without hurting the sentiments of one region or the other. So they let it go. Deusorthok stayed an official language, and was used only for naming important landmarks.

  But the people did not forget that they failed their kings. The rulers were so loved globally, that people continued to try and use Deusorthok, but try and reduce its complexity, make it easier for colloquial use. This happened over time. So a few centuries later, gradually, our common tongue evolved to what it is now. But Deusorthok wasn’t so lucky. With the common tongue evolving, Deusorthok was slowly replaced even in official communication. Its demise was accelerated when the last group of seven kings fell.

  After the end of the age of the seven kings, the newly formed Valantian Imperium wanted to discourage the use of Deusorthok. It was one way to control all knowledge of Azmoq, as all literature on Azmoq research was in Deusorthok.

  So the Imperium ordered the usage of Deusorthok to stop completely. It was easy to replace in official communications with the common tongue. The various cities, rivers and landmarks, which had been named in Deusorthok and the names in use for hundreds of years, were going to be a challenge. So they started to use another tactic—encourage the usage of the local languages, dead for centuries or even millennia, apparently as a means of “celebrating that region.”

  So many regions started to revert to some usage of their own languages. The language spoken was still just common tongue, but the people started to rename buildings and areas in their own languages.