by Rhys Thomas
“Gun powder, cannon balls and ballistae bolts,” said a slightly nasally voice. I turned to focus on the Captain, whose approach I hadn’t heard. I glanced off to the area Ilya, Emilia and Thiomin had been talking and saw that they had moved further along the deck.
“Expecting trouble?” I asked the man.
He nodded, “always. Whether it’s from the creatures or leviathans of the deep out in Amberic Sea, or the slavers of Goldranos marauding along the coast of the Farlands and southern Haroxi.”
“That’s’ a lot to broadly prepare for I imagine,” I commented. The grey coated twitched his moustache.
“You imagine correctly Mr. Rosen. So, I’m not surprised when I receive this contract, that I suddenly feel the need to be prepared for something far more dangerous and something of an extended voyage than it’s intended to be.” He explained to me, I frowned looking at the man.
“I’ve no enemies chasing me Captain I assure you,” I said, figuring the man might’ve thought I was trouble or something.
“Only those we leave behind, chase us Mr. Rosen. It’s what we’re running towards that has me stock piling my ship,” he said and waved a dismissive hand in the air before us. “I’m the navigator and captain of the Naiad, Mr. Rosen. I always see the job through, I just thought to let you know that a storm is on the way.” The Captain explained and then held out his hand for me to shake, we clasped hands and I felt the clammed cold sweat beading his palm.
“If you and your companions need anything come find me or Thiomin, and it’s Shawn Grimsley. Have Thiomin find you lodging, we set out within the next hour. It’ll take us 4-5 days depending on the winds favour for us and the seas are calm,” with that Captain Grimsley walked back towards the stern of the Naiad.
I moved to meet up with Ilya and Thiomin looking forward to my first time out on the sea. It was scarily exciting when I thought over Grimsley’s words about creatures of the deep and fighting slavers. Though I believed the former didn’t actually exist, even here.
Once I found Thiomin and the others, he showed us to our rooms, or in this case room. Three cots and a hammock occupied the majority of the space, the rest felt like a last-minute fit. A wash table and a pot in the corner with a mirror. A large wooden chest with thick bands of iron and when opened held a mirror beneath the lid.
Thiomin and I helped to carry Emilia’s luggage, three overly sized bags. Two of which held clothes and the third instruments for her witchy studies.
None of us complained about the room, and in fact I felt a familiar sense of comfort having others who were capable so close by. We stayed in our room as the activity on deck increased, I picked out a cot and laid down instantly closing my eyes and drifting off for a few extra minutes of sleep.
~*~*~*~
A swift jab struck my ribs knocking the breath expelling out of my lungs. Ilya spun away her quarterstaff waving fluidly with her, seeming a part of her body, an extension she wielded quite efficiently. A few of the men cheered as Ilya threw a devilish smirk at me. Others roared for me to man up and hit her, honestly, I was trying to hold back.
The slightest pulse of my enhanced strength and the wooden staff of my quarterstaff would shatter, it was why I always thought to have Ariana train me to fight in different weaponry. Her strength was equal if not greater to my own. Ilya on the other hand was insanely fast, I could match her speed blow for blow, but her experience, training and technique made striking her seem an impossible task.
“What’s a matter, muscle brain. You’re not winded, are you?” Ilya said, taunting in her teasing manner. We had started to go through the routines of training as a way to pass the idle time spent on ship, it was the mid-afternoon of the second day we had set out from Ny’thier city and the winds had been gentle and the sea calm.
It had been incredibly relaxing.
We squared off on the main deck of the Naiad, I brought my staff around to a middle guard and widened my stance. Ilya stepped back around to face me, finished with her twirling display. She came running in, her speed much faster than I gave her credit. She thrust out for my face, but I stepped aside and snapped out with my own quarterstaff. Our staffs clashed and I then I noticed that she had over extended on her thrust and I quickly parried aside her blow and followed it up with a high thrust towards her face. She dipped her staff low and plunged it into the floor and spun away from my strike.
I didn’t follow though, instead I decided to remain patient.
I had learned that in quarterstaff fighting over the last day, that quick reactions and control of the centre meant victory. Unless your opponent is extremely skilful in kicking your ass. “So, tell me outworlder. Have you fucked the baby dragon yet?” Ilya cooed mockingly. I ignored her taunts, watching her whole-body shift into a rudder guard.
Then she stepped forward, but instead of a step it was a leap and she propelled herself at me. I backed away and brought my staff up into a high guard. Ilya landed a few metres away from and stepped in extending her fore leg and then sweeping her staff around her hips. The action so fast I that I was late in reacting. Switching grip’s, I flashed my staff out and caught hers with the back of my own. But my stance hadn’t changed yet to accommodate my new position, which meant my mid-section was exposed.
A blunt crack across my ribs, again for the third time today sent me wheezing onto the wooden floor of the deck.
“Come on lad, stop your slobbering on my deck or I’ll have you out here with a bucket and sponge,” said Thiomin. He laughed heartily and slapped the railing of the ship.
“You – try – giving her - the stick then,” I wheezed out between breath’s. I heard some of the crew laugh at my joke, Ilya came over and hovered above me. Her dark ashen grey skin a sharp contrast in the sunlight. The red orbs of her eyes and faint black pupils roamed over me seeing I was fine.
“You’re getting better, outworlder. And we’ve only just started, a few more exchanges and maybe you’ll even stop thinking about, each technique and the minute expressions of your opponent’s body,” she said and held out a hand.
I accepted and allowed her to help partly pull me up, “what do you mean, isn’t that what you’re supposed to watch for?” I asked the woman. She gave me a ponderous nod as we moved to grab our skins of water over by where Emilia sat reading a book and making notations in another.
“While we sparred, your eyes gave away your every thought. You’re watching the feet move, or how my posture changes from defensive to combative. Then I see the whirring of gears in your brain, as you process and ready the correct response. You do well, but you don’t move well.” She paused and rubbed at her chin for a moment, “in a knife fight you’re taught to conceal the blade with your body. Why is that?” she asked me. I stared up at the sky as if hoping my answer might rain down upon me.
“Because it’s the weapon?” I asked in an unsure reply. “Exactly,” Ilya said excitedly and gave a short quick clap. I was part proud and part embarrassed, it was a tad demeaning being praised for something seemingly obvious. “We use our bodies to conceal our blows because the knife is the weapon. If not and neither side hides their knife, then the fight will be quick and ugly. You must always be quicker and a step ahead, the same kind of applies to all forms of combat. See the whole as the picture, fight your enemy, not their weapon.”
“Yeah, cause there’s hundreds of people out there just waiting to beat me to death with their tree branches,” I said grumbling.
“Oh, don’t worry Alaric,” Ilya said, one the few instances she actually used my name. “You’ll probably never face another staff wielder. Swords are easily beaten, it those trained in the quarterstaff that’ll give you a hard time.”
We reached Emilia, and without looking up the witch raised the hand she had rested on her book and made two quick gestures. The water skins beside her rose into the air, a soft violet dusty light floating around them, and Ilya grabbed both.
“Thank you, Emi,” said Ilya.
“Cheers,” I s
aid simply and downed about half of mines contents. “What’re you working on there, Emilia?” I asked the young witch. She raises a slender finger and drew some red glyphs in her notebook. Finally, she looked up at me, and pulled her long straight platinum blonde hair over her shoulder to let it rest.
“The symbolic nature of fire and what it’s return means for us,” she replied and petted her hair like a person would an affectionate cat.
“What do you mean?” I asked her curious.
She grinned, flashing her perfect white teeth and I couldn’t help but miss toothpaste. “I mean that for the last few hundred years or so, fire not generated by the essence strikers we have left from the time of the Kashirans and the Aegis Kingdom, drove people insane. They would hear voices and suddenly become feverish and delirious, what we know as Tian’s Madness.
“Except it would then escalate and the person would combust. Now, the majority of those who were still within the early stages of the madness are suddenly fine and healthy. Fire is being slowly implemented once again back into a part of daily life. Now with the increase of guns and the slow realisation that weaponry is advancing, is because of fire. Fire is a chaotic element capable of both great change and great destruction. Here summon a flame for me,” Emilia commanded, and I did so. Crouching down to my haunches so I could shield the conjuration from the crew.
I sent a thread thin tendril of will and reconnected myself with my delve, I instantly exhaled in exhilaration as all of my sense were immediately enhanced. I could smell the salty sweat on Ilya toned body. The rosy herbal fragrance of Emilia’s hair. I shook my head to stop myself from delving further and summoned a tiny flickering flame into the palm of my hand as I stretched out for the young witch.
The witch grabbed a hold of my hand and started to poked at the flame, “It doesn’t burn,” she said thoughtfully. “Why is that?” she asked.
“I don’t know-” I started to say but then paused. “Maybe it’s because I don’t want the fire to injure you,” I said thoughtfully.
“Now what would you say if I told you that as last year, a minor amount of those that were affected by Tians madness can now manipulate fire,” said Emilia. “Though I should say that theirs requires an external source to draw from. They can’t simply conjure a flame as you do, but their control is far greater as the essence drawn from the source is by far weaker than yours.”
I stared at her, unsure of what to say. Finally, I said, “their mentality is still broken though isn’t it?”
She nodded sullenly, “very much so.” She looked away from my gaze and back to the flame in my palm. “I want to see if you can make a fire elemental,” Emilia said finally.
Ilya cleared her throat and we both looked at her. “Probably better to do that someplace else, you know, somewhere less flammable and not out in the middle of the sea,” the Mælic Redeye said and gave a wide sweep of her gaze across the ship.
“Probably best,” I said grinning.
“Mr. Alaric could just make it small,” Emilia said tiredly. After being in the sun all morning and confined to the main deck, we were all feeling mentally and physically exhausted. I focused my tired brain on the task of forming a fire elemental, then pausing when I realised, I had no idea what an elemental was.
“Emilia, what exactly is an elemental anyway. I’m Finding it difficult to form something I’ve no knowledge of,” I said frowning at the young witch. She stroked her hair in thought, glancing to her side briefly.
“Elementals are an extreme concentration of a single element, whose essence has been imbued with that of a spirit of will.” She must’ve seen my frown deepen at the whole spirit-of-will-thing because she explained further. “A spirit of will,” she began, her light voice a steady cadence as she continued to lecture me. “Is a detachment of your very essence given over to the element to provide a thread of conscious thought. Look,” she said and held up her flat left palm facing skyward and with her right hand she began to cast a spell. Emilia bit her bottom lip as she formed several difficult hand gestures towards her left palm. A few seconds later and a grey swirling image began to move on her flat hand.
It rose higher and higher till a mini cyclone encircled out of her palm, it was a measly four inches tall and swished violently and unsteadily. “Now, I can’t do it as I’m not adept enough to summon elementals as of yet. But I’ve seen others push their will and the emotion, that best suits the element of their control.” She waved her hand dismissing the tiny cyclone.
I focused in on the flame in my palm, Emilia had presumably studied magic and witch craft for many, many, years. So how she thought I would simply pick it up was beyond me, but then I remembered an important fact. She was only telling me her own limited knowledge, which meant hers and the Glen’s way of magic and control didn’t necessarily mean it was correct for mine.
I closed my hand into a fist, snuffing out the flame. “We’ll try this again tonight or tomorrow, I’m too tired to continue,” I explained to Emilia’s puzzled expression.
“Good,” commented Ilya. “Combat should be quick and decisive. But plans of growth should be well thought out and explored.”
I glanced at the dark elf and smiled a little, she was once again sharpening one of her knives with a long slicing shhhhhink! against the wet stone. “Patience and restraint are the traits of a good leader in my opinion,” the Mælic Redeye added and cast a side long glance at me.
“I’m really just tired is all,” I said, casting a look out to the wide-open sea all around us. Behind us the Dale Mountain loomed into the clouds as we sailed further from its reaches, I felt a sense of foreboding, like the mountain wasn’t done with me yet. Ahead of us and a few days travel was the continent known as Farlands.
Little was known about the place other than that there were long and forgotten monsters roaming the land and that a few desperate people have tried to set up homesteads in the region. That, and the ruins of someplace called Zwericania; is supposedly there. I looked at the sun and frowned, “It’s only past midday,” I said quietly.
~*~*~*~
For another two days we sailed the calm waters and for those two days, I practiced quarterstaffs with Ilya and got my ass beaten several times. Though I did manage two blows against her that connected, the first her shin and the second her head. Which meant practiced was to be temporally postpone till Ilya managed to clear her dizzying mind. Then in the afternoons I would practice elemental control and shaping with Emilia. I would nod agreeably to all her teachings and explanations but otherwise I realised I just had to do things my own way. If Marisa was here, she would simply tell me to extend my will, give it shape, and then bestow a purpose upon it- or something or other.
Speaking of the dragonling, I was starting to miss her mindful presence and the company of Ariana and Sishshik. I sat up from my cot on the fourth day with a groan. A lean dark ashen grey thigh pressed against and caressed my burgeoning cock beneath the sheets. I looked over and saw the sleeping Mælic Redeyes’ half-naked form covered by the bedding.
Her silky white hair hung loosely around her shoulders and chest, just blocking the view of an exquisite dark purple-wine nipples. Then my eyes followed the curve of her thigh down her leg and to the foot dangling on my side of the cot. Her toenails were also a dark purple, as were her fingernails thought they almost looked black just like her lips.
Her leg moved again and gently caressed my stiffening cock. I decided it was probably best to move away than enjoy her unconscious touch on my flesh.
With some careful maneuvering I made my way out the cot and saw that Emilia was nowhere to be seen. I washed the best I could in the corner and then got dressed in some of my extra stored clothing, deciding it was probably best to leave my armour off for a day.
I made way to the main deck and found Emilia standing at the port side and looking out over the sea. The winds were chopping this morning and gulls flew overhead their repeated squawks and pleas for food went unnoticed by the few deckhands workin
g and maintaining our heading and speed. “You’re up early,” I said greeting the witch as I came up beside. She turned and smiled widely at me, her long hair whipping about her face in the strong winds.
“I’m just excited is all,” she replied.
“Excited?”
“We’ll be arriving at the Farlands if not tomorrow then the day after,” she said explained in an excited hushed whisper and moved to stand closer to me.
“My mother used to explore a few ruins of the Zwericania kingdom you see,” Emilia started the excitement in her light bright purple gaze dimmed as she thought of her mother. “She even found the resting place of a queen. Though it was unknown if the woman had been one of the Zwerc or the Demi’s. On the brow of her skull though they found a crown made of a chain of gold coins. Of course, my mother was but a guide then, hired by the Kashirans to see them safely through the Farlands. The Kashirans took possession of the crown, what came to be known as a Sul’fran crown.
“The wearer must swear upon a series of oaths as they are adorned with the crown,” she went onto explain and I was drawn and fascinated by her telling of her mother. “The crown would constrict to the wearers brow and remain there indefinitely till their dying day. However, there was a problem, each action they took that went against the oaths they swore, the crown would tighten and constrict even further. Remaining that way till the action was either rectified or a counter action was made of the same value,” she paused to lick her lips and grinned. “So much of our history is lost. We know that the Kashirans and the humans of Goldranos Dominion came from other worlds, but we do not know anything about them. In the end, the Kashirans tried to go home, they were brought to Viria through circumstances and became proud and terrible rulers for a time. Yet through all their longevity they didn’t see; nor perceive how alike they became to that of the slavers of their home world. Viria is a steppingstone for the powerful and foolish I just don’t-” Emilia was saying but was suddenly cut off when a cry sounded from the crow’s nest.