by Jeremy Dwyer
She traveled through Revod over the course of many days, observing a considerable amount of activity, and she heard talk of a tyrant in the south – King Xander – who had taken Meridianus and Ihalik. She watched and recorded – sometimes in confidence with the military leaders – as preparations were being made to defend against an invasion in the Jenaldej Empire, including defenses against illusions, musical enchantment and telepathic attacks, as it was reported that the king’s forces employed all of those powers.
Tofa knew that Mitchell was a Kazofen water drinker and worked as an alchemist, so he would likely be employed at purifying waters by manipulating the crystal structure to remove impurities and make a purer potion of any waters, be they Elanatin, Ursegan, Lujladia, or even other Kazofen waters. In literally dark and dangerous times – as well as light and good times – the Jenaldej Empire was run strictly, with people assigned to waterbindings and tasks according to their demonstrated innate potential during the waterbinding trial process. This was interesting and logical, albeit too strict of an existence for her. She had witnessed a recent waterbinding trial in a different part of Revod relatively recently, but she did not have the opportunity to visit Mitchell at that time.
~~~
In their hiding place – a cave in the mountains of the Colossal March Warpath land bridge – the Explorers of the Quiet Sea were gathered. Their acting leader – Pandaros – was considering his options for acquiring the next luminary.
“Do your books or maps give any suggestions as to the location of the next luminary?” Abrax asked from the darkness where he hid. It had become clear to him that his duty was to guard the luminaries they already held, rather than searching for more. The task was fortunately quite unexciting, and so he had time to ponder.
“Do your books or maps give much reason to believe that we will actually see more in the darkness? It is more challenging to find our way about, and travel by ship is greatly slowed; yet, we have seen nothing new,” Erikkos asked.
“The darkness which a person can create from the energy given by the Ikkith Tar waters is beyond the absence of light: something akin to a negative number in arithmetic. Simple darkness is the scarcity – or even the absence – of light, akin to the number zero (0). Yet, what is happening with these luminaries is different from either sort of darkness. The light of the stars is being taken away – but where does it go? Why do the Atrejan drinkers feel pain when they call to the stars – why not just silence?” Pandaros asked.
“You tell me,” Erikkos said.
“Do you not know? Is this entire expedition just a wild gamble?” Amaltheia asked. She sat on a wooden bench in the cave, on top of a cotton pad filled with wool, to ease her discomfort in pregnancy.
“If it gets dark enough, do you anticipate a secret being revealed? Like some false light being canceled out?” Seleukos asked.
“Exploration is precisely about exploring the unknown. Do not forget that. Even if the luminaries bring only darkness, havoc and death, the precise outcome is still a learning experience. That is what carries us forward,” Pandaros said.
“Not our death…that doesn’t carry us forward,” Amaltheia said, rubbing her pregnant belly.
“How do you know? Still, there is reason to believe that something more is to be found. The suns no longer serve the sun worshippers, and their religion may soon fail, so that they will seek answers in another power, or wage war. The navigators have been replaced by light benders, who can more readily steer in the darkness. The world economy is adapting, with rising wages for those who drink the Lujladia waters. Perhaps the uselessness of the Atrejan waters will lead the drinkers to fall into despair, and we can use them as tools or as sacrificial offerings. You need to think more creatively, and savor the possibilities for learning,” Pandaros said.
“Life and death is all a game to you?” Amaltheia asked.
“Of course. Learning is joy, and our very purpose. If no one dies, how can we learn about death?” Pandaros asked.
“We did destroy that city in the Volaraden desert. It felt good to be able to kill everyone standing in our way and take what we wanted. I can’t deny enjoying that,” Erikkos said.
“I’m worried about us, not about a little town in the desert. If he starts a world war, and we’re in the middle of it, that’s something else entirely,” Amaltheia said.
“Are you afraid of learning new things?” Pandaros asked.
“We can’t learn if the whole world is torn apart and it’s too dark to see!” Amaltheia said.
“What do you mean? We can see! Even around corners, or miles away,” Seleukos said as his hands still glowed from the Lujladia Ocean waters that flowed through him.
“That’s great, but it’s not enough to stop a collapse everywhere else,” Amaltheia said.
“Plenty of other people drink Lujladia Ocean waters. They’ll be fine…and even get better wages,” Seleukos said.
“This little game is bigger than you can see. You think you’re smart, but you can’t see ahead every move for every piece on the whole board,” Amaltheia said.
“Games of imperfect information are like that. War of the Treasury is the perfect example: Which enemy pieces hold the diamonds? Which are merely decoys? Part of the strategy is guessing and bluffing, so even luck is involved, and a very clever player can guess wrong and lose,” Pandaros said.
“We’re not pieces on your game board,” Amaltheia said, holding and rubbing her pregnant belly more firmly now.
“Your curiosity has given way to fear. That gestating child has affected your judgment for the worse. Perhaps we should terminate the pregnancy now and restore your senses,” Pandaros said.
Despite her fatigue, Amaltheia suddenly stood up and moved behind Seleukos, who held up his hands and said: “We share knowledge with each other…we’re all fellow explorers, let’s not forget that.”
“So much as try to touch me and I’ll kill you in ways you can’t imagine!” Amaltheia then said.
“You’re fierce! Good. Now pursue knowledge with that same intensity…unless you would rather stay here with Abrax and guard the luminaries. He can make sure you don’t succumb to fear and make a poor choice,” Pandaros said.
“These altercations are boring. Let’s find another luminary, and see if they’re really worth all the trouble,” Erikkos said.
“Where would the next one (1) be?” Seleukos asked.
“That is not easily determined. I often seek knowledge from beyond, but the spirits demand a price in blood. We will have to pay it, as well as settling an outstanding blood debt, so be prepared to kill,” Pandaros said.
“Light can also burn, so I will kill targets as needed,” Seleukos said.
“If you’re ready, and your disposition is certain, you can accompany me once again,” Pandaros said.
“Let them stay here and settle down. I’m ready to go out again,” Seleukos said.
“Good. Drink up,” Pandaros said.
Pandaros then drank anew of the waters of the Zovvin Ocean from his vial and was energized with the powers of spirit.
Seleukos drank anew of the waters of the Lujladia Ocean from his own vial and was energized with the powers of light.
Together, they left the cave and made their way down the mountain toward the sea port.
“Keep your eyes open for someone out of the way, and alone, that we can expend. Use your light passively to see in the darkness, but not to actively draw attention,” Pandaros whispered to Seleukos.
Seleukos looked about and caught sight of a young man carrying a small stone head with emerald eyes walking up a mountain trail. Seleukos gestured toward the man and then he and Pandaros moved in.
Seleukos created a beam of bright light and shone into the man’s eye, thus blinding him. Pandaros drew his machete, swung it and decapitated the man.
Then Pandaros called out to the spirit world such that only a certain spirit could hear, saying: “Accept this blood sacrifice, and give me in return, the kn
owledge of yet another luminary.”
“Emmett isss the boy who hasss the darknesss dreamsss, in the wessstern Jenaldej land while hisss mother hasss the luminary. Take it and hisss dreamsss will end. The father isss Mitchell, and he bendsss ssstonesss in the village with the number ssseven sssixxxteen,” the voice of the spirit said directly into the spirit of Pandaros, such that only he could hear.
“We are going to Revod, to village number seven sixteen (716),” Pandaros said and then he and Seleukos finished their walk down the mountain trail and to the sea port, booking passage on a ship heading northwest over the Medathero Ocean, arriving in Revod after four (4) days. They were greatly slowed by the darkness, and the voyage should have taken one (1) day at most.
From there, however, they booked passage on inland riverboats, and traveled another eight (8) days toward the designated village.
~~~
Emmett was nine (9) years old and playful. The crowd of boys and girls around him was filled with chatter and nonsense about childish things: who was fastest or tallest or strongest – the boys tended to boast about that – or who could sing the best, and the girls usually claimed that title. Of course, none of them had taken their waterbinding yet: the Jenaldej law was to choose when you turned twenty-three (23) and not before. Youth was to be spent on discovering your array of talents and identifying your strongest potential. The nearby adults were watching and monitoring for which child demonstrated extremes of each physical trait – be it strength, speed, good looks, good healing, or a decent singing voice – as well as which had the higher powers, such as an intuition about the thoughts of others, a knack for working with animals or plants, or even the occasional unexplained glimpse of what was around the next corner. These were the signs of potential for using the different water powers: the waters enhanced and multiplied what was already there, and it was much more effective if the talent was inborn at a high level – high enough that a hint of it would appear from time to time before drinking the water. The Dead Waters were their only hydration until that time.
Emmett wanted to prove his speed, and he enjoyed his jog up the steep hill that would soon be followed by running back down. The sounds of two (2) other boys following him meant that it was to be a race. When he reached the top, he turned around to begin his return sprint, and saw that it was suddenly dark and no one was around: neither of the boys who followed him nor the adults could be seen. Instead, a sky of many bright stars had turned to a sky of few dim ones. He felt a power push – or pull him – closer, and he went down the hill very quickly. At the bottom, there was a single candle burning, but it gave no light. He could not explain how he knew that it was a candle, but he picked it up and it was cold to the touch, and black.
~~~
Mitchell worked long hours at purifying waters as one (1) of the principal alchemists in village number seven sixteen (716) in western Revod. His ten (10) hour work day had come to an end and he looked forward to returning home to his wife, Denise, and their son, Emmett. He walked back to his home, only a half mile away from the alchemy lab, and was less than two hundred (200) feet away when he heard his name called by a familiar voice: “Mitchell!”
Mitchell turned around and saw the most beautiful woman he had ever dated – he last went out with her thirteen (13) years ago – and she was as stunning as ever.
“Tofa! How are you?” he asked, but didn’t walk toward her.
Tofa moved forward, but noticed his body language, and his own lack of movement. She suspected that he wasn’t available.
“It’s been so long. I’ve been to quite a few places since then,” Tofa said.
“I’m sure you’ve seen a lot. It’s been – what – thirteen (13) years? I’ve seen a lot of changes, even though I’m not a Chronicler,” Mitchell said.
“I’d love to hear about it,” Tofa said, smiling and coming within a few feet. She maintained a polite distance, like old friends, rather than strangers. There were never lovers, but almost were.
“You’re as beautiful as ever, and your smile is still more than I could expect from a woman who travels the world and sees the worst of it,” Mitchell said.
“I focus on the positive, and learn what I can from all of it,” Tofa said.
“That’s an amazing ability. It makes you a great Chronicler…and a great friend,” Mitchell said.
“Thank you. You’re still that gentle young man you were when we met,” Tofa said.
“Not as young, sorry to say. Lots of work, lots of worry. Raising a son isn’t easy,” Mitchell said.
“I raised four (4) boys and four (4) girls. I know what it’s like. What’s his name? How old is he?” Tofa said.
“Emmett’s nine (9) now. He’s a good kid,” Mitchell said.
“Your eyes tell me something more. What is it?” Tofa asked, looking into Mitchell’s eyes, to see if the spark was still there – in both him and her.
“He’s sad. Maybe it’s my hours, but they’re not that bad. We survived the tempest, and my wife is always with him,” Mitchell said.
He wasn’t a single father, so Tofa’s hopes of rekindling their romance were dashed. She didn’t want to let go of the memories, but she couldn’t get involved. The best that she could do was to record the details of his current life, and hold onto the memories and writings as a keepsake.
“How did you meet your wife?” Tofa asked.
“I met Denise when I was twenty-six (26) and she showed up at my alchemy lab for a water purification. She was a good student – a Medathero drinker – and she traveled to Emeth a few times when she was younger. We talked a while about crystals structures and she had a lot of intelligent things to say about them. A few days later, she went on another trip to Emeth and came back about a month later with a lot of interesting notes she transcribed and gave to me as a gift. They were very helpful, actually, and saved me a lot of trial and error working with opals and citrines,” Mitchell said.
“Kind and intelligent – she sounds exactly like the sort of wife you deserve,” Tofa said.
“I asked her out on a date, to repay her kindness, and she told me about her life. She read everything she could, and helped with all sorts of research in philosophy and history – because that was the only way she ever got her father’s attention or approval. I was her first date – and she was already thirty-eight (38) – and I got the sense that she was sad from being so lonely, and it was getting worse,” Mitchell said.
“That is late in life to first meet. I married at twenty-one (21), and had eight (8) children by thirty-four (34). And I’m glad I didn’t wait…life was fulfilling, and those are wonderful memories…some of the very best,” Tofa said.
“Over the next month, she came to hire me for more water purifications. She visited me every five (5) days, then every four (4) days, and so on. Every time she did, we would talk, even go out on a date, and get to know each other a little better. At the end of the month, I proposed and we were married a month after that,” Mitchell said.
“That is so sweet! When you know you have the right person, there’s no need to wait,” Tofa said.
“I was happy, and Denise was happy, but then she got sad again. I can’t understand why, and she always said that it was memories of her father, and struggling to impress him, and the boys who always looked the other way. She had a sister, who was very popular, but she wasn’t,” Mitchell said.
“Jealousy over boyfriends can be difficult for a girl. Sisters can be very competitive…I’ve seen it with my own girls. I still remember the squabbles, all those centuries ago,” Tofa said.
“I wanted her to feel wanted, and loved, always. Two (2) years later, Emmett was born. Denise tried to instill in him a tremendous love of reading, but she never made it back to Emeth, just because raising him was so much work,” Mitchell said.
At this point, Tofa and Mitchell were only ten (10) feet from the front door of his small house.
Denise waited at the door for Mitchell. She saw him with a woman who
was holding a book – a woman who was stunningly beautiful – and became filled with a jealous rage and a deep sadness all at once.
“I’d like to meet your wife, and your son. You know how it goes. Sometimes, we Chroniclers like to write down the family stories,” Tofa said, smiling, while standing outside next to Mitchell.
“Sure. I’ll introduce you,” Mitchell said, and he and Tofa walked into the house, entering the dining room.
Tofa almost bit her lip when she saw the woman waiting there – she was in her late forties or early fifties and it was clear that she was quite unattractive, and probably never had been good looking, even in her early twenties. It was so true that it was sad, and she pitied the woman. That Mitchell had dated her and married her testified to the man’s kindness and sweetness. Tofa had seen women of various levels of attractiveness, but this woman clearly did not fare well. That Denise had a scowl on her face – along with an almost primal fear that her husband was being charmed by a beautiful woman – only made it worse. And Tofa’s heart was moved with pity. She had no intention of stealing the woman’s husband; even if she did, the Chronicler’s Oath forbade interference.