Neripha - Part 1

by Olivia Ratcliff

  Culbert and Reynhart both had served his father. The moment Klaiser had claimed the throne, they seemed to feel entitled to ruling his kingdom, as if they still saw him as the little child heir he used to be; he was irritated to think that, but he still needed their advice. Klaiser didn’t know how to overcome this dilemma.

  His shoulders and neck got tense again. He kept thinking of that woman in his dream. ‘I’m losing my mind,’ Klaiser thought in distress. He couldn’t wait for the council meeting to be over.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Chase arrived at the capital city of his district. It had been a monotonous journey since his departure from home and Chase was hungry and tired from a long ride. His horse too needed a rest.

  Different from his hometown Salozara, the district capital had an actual sign that greeted the travelers; Moongrave City, it read. The sign was raised on two thick wooden pillars which also served as an official gateway to the city. Salozara, Moongrave City and some other small towns were in the Osa family’s district, a rising noble family in the administration branch. Their mansion was located in the heart of Moongrave City. Naturally, Moongrave City received more funds than the rest of the district to live up to its reputation as the district capital.

  Chase remembered having visited here once in a while when his father, Ash, had traveled here to deliver his weapons to vendors and check out specialty shops. Chase didn’t pay attention to little things then, but now he could notice the differences between Salozara and Moongrave City. The roads in Moongrave City were laid with flat stones, whereas Salozara’s were just dirt roads, the city was guarded with walls, and the buildings in it tended to be larger and taller.

  It was bustling with people but Chase didn’t mind it. He dismounted from his horse and navigated his way along the main road, which was packed with shops and vendors. Seeing vendors was very amusing to him because in Salozara no one would come out and sell goods; everyone owned a house and used a half of it as his work place. However, in Moongrave City, that didn’t seem like a common case at all. There were vendors with carts on the street, selling food, clothes, paintings, shoes, and even animals.

  Chase was somewhat dazed at the sight of this different city. He was tired but also wanted to have a look around before the sunset.

  Chase found a shop with swords made of animal bones. What caught his attention was a long sword made with a femur of Krossoss, a beast with deep purple bones. They were very hard and dense with aesthetic color and sheen, and with proper processes to harden and sharpen them, they made quality swords. Ash hadn’t dealt with Krossoss bones and Chase was intrigued to see them at the shop.

  The street was packed with people. Chase kept bumping into them as he approached the shop.

  As Chase was making his way to the shop, he suddenly sensed something. A hunch was the best he could explain it. It was a sensation that raised the hair on the back of his neck, as if a cold knifepoint came in contact with his bare neck. In the middle of the street bustling with people, Chase abruptly spun on his heels, his movement astonishingly sharp and in balance.

  “Ouch,” a girl about at Chase’s age let out a groan. Chase felt a tug on his Black Gancus as it whipped her in her face. She had been walking behind Chase and got hit by the end of his Black Gancus. She held her face with her palm, looking embarrassed. She had pale blond hair with rosy cheeks, which were getting rosier after getting smacked.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Are you okay?” Chase asked, feeling stupid to think what he must have looked like, spinning around in the middle of such a busy street.

  “I’m fine,” she answered curtly.

  “I didn’t see you there. I remembered I forgot something and had to go get it,” Chase lied in effort to explain his erratic behavior.

  “Well, don’t worry about it,” she said, looking flushed, and swiftly left the scene, her blue linen dress flapping against her body as she ran. A trail of her sweet, floral scent lingered after she had left. It was unmistakably a scent of Maroa wine.

  The sky was changing its color and darkness started to settle. Chase and his horse were ready to get some rest overnight.

  “How much is it for one night? I also have a horse,” Chase said after entering an inn.

  “500 gold coins in total, sir,” the clerk answered him.

  Chase rummaged in his backpack for his money pouch. It was in a little bag with Hazel’s book. After a bit of futile attempt at it, he put his backpack off his shoulders and took a closer look inside it.

  The bag was gone. The bag that held his money pouch and Hazel’s book was nowhere to be found.

  He had a sizeable amount of money in that pouch. That was all he had saved up from his childhood, but the money pouch didn’t bother him at all. It was Hazel’s book that made him furious with himself. How could he lose Hazel’s treasure? Nothing could replace that. He clearly remembered the last time he had used it and put it away… then, an epiphany came over him. He got the same unpleasant sensation, though this time it was from his realization of what had happened. He had been pickpocketed by that girl from earlier today.

  A strong character, Chase was, with a genuine aspiration to improve both his mind and body, unyielding and relentless, which had shined brightest in the most difficult times. This rendered him stubborn, however, his focus getting so keen as he executed his plans that he always got blinded by it. This was one of those moments again. There was absolutely no question about it; Chase must catch that pickpocket.

  Chase wildly looked around. There was no trace of her. The only thing he remembered about her was her dress, her pale blonde hair, and the scent of Maroa wine. He would have to finish it before dark. He was comfortable with night hunting but finding a person at night was a different matter, because it had to be that girl and nobody else. He had only about three hours until it got completely dark. It would be impossible to search every corner of the city.

  ‘If I was a pickpocket, what would I do after I just pickpocketed?’ Chase pondered, ‘I’d go home or somewhere no one can see me and then stash it somewhere. Would I come back out again? I wouldn’t even go near the area again for a while. I’d stay home… but if I’ve lived my whole life as a pickpocket, I might not even care about walking around, looking for another target…’ The two theories collided within him, but, either way, he didn’t have a clever way of catching her. The hope of somehow running into her again was pitiful but he would have to see if luck was on his side or the thief’s at this rate. Metilda seemed to speed up approaching the horizon.

  ‘That smell of Maroa wine… It looks like there’s no other way.’ Chase recalled the smell of Maroa wine from her. Maroa wine was one of the most popular drinks in Sarum. People often enjoyed their meals with the wine, so she could’ve simply had her meal before pickpocketing him. However, the amount one would have from her meal wasn’t large enough to linger a scent. It was a scent that seeped in her clothes and her hair, which permeated the air like a perfume.

  Chase’s life had been very simple. He had more chances to interact with forest animals than with other people. His animalistic instincts and senses, which never came across as extraordinary to Chase, himself, were the products of the simplicity of his life, and they were truly marvelous. This was what Jovani had seen in Chase in the Mima, immature and unpolished, yet gleaming with immense potential. Partly from nature and partly from nurture, Chase was more of an animal than a human in his superior senses, for he could differentiate the levels of the faintest smells, concluding without difficulty that the pickpocket girl must work with wine in some way.

  ‘Perhaps I can ask people at the wineries if they know any place where a blonde girl works. It will help narrow down my search much faster,’ Chase thought hopefully.

  Now the key was how fast he could do it.

  “Excuse me, where are famous wineries here?” Chase asked a passerby.

  “There are several, but the largest one is Moore’s Winery over that way.” The man pointed toward the Osa house of Te
rry Osa, the district leader. “It’s just a little west of the Osa house.”

  “Okay, thank you.” Chase wanted him to list all the wineries but that was fine. If it was the largest one, perhaps it would have more networking.

  Now one corner of the sky started to turn purple. The night was coming. The market was still quite busy but was going to close shortly. Fortunately, the Osa house was easily seen from any place in the city due to its rather strange implementation of Rogathian architecture.

  Rogath was a powerful empire due north of Sarum and had a very different architectural style. The Rogathians often used a moat as a part of fortification of a site whereas the Sarumese built houses on a hill, natural or man-made, sometimes in combination.

  The Osa house was peculiar in that it had both Rogathian and Sarumese architecture combined. It sat on a high mound surrounded by a moat. Its most striking feature, however, was a bell tower and spires, which were uniquely Rogathian. It served as a famous landmark, which was now guiding Chase’s way to the winery. As he got closer and closer, the Osa house’s grandeur got more real to him. The exposed bells of the tower were large enough to fit several people in each of them, and surely looked like their sound would reach every nook and cranny of the entire city.

  As he looked upon the bells, he recalled coming to Moongrave City with his father a long time ago. Then, Ash traveled to different places, getting the material for his orders or delivering the finished products by himself. Ash would sweep Chase off his feet, turn him upside down and flip him over his shoulders. Chase would then giggle and hold on to Ash’s head as he crawled on Ash’s shoulders.

  “See those huge bells? Those are the emergency bells of Moongrave City. The bells ring seven times when there’s an invasion from the outside, five times when there’s a natural disaster, and three times when the king arrives at the city. I heard the sound once and it was such a beautiful sound that I just forget what I’d been doing and listened to it,” Ash said.

  “What happens when the bells sound?” Chase asked Ash.

  “When they sound five or seven times, so during an emergency, people come out and go to the bunker underneath the Osa House. The bunker opens only during such situations.”

  “That sounds fun! Have you been in the bunker?” Chase exclaimed. To the little mischievous boy he was, people gathering inside the bunker during an emergency sounded exciting.

  “No, I haven’t, and hopefully never will. Everyone rushes to the bunker. I can’t imagine being in that crowd myself.”

  ‘Good times,’ Chase thought to himself. It felt strange to stand in front of the bell tower again, this time without his father.

  The winery was easy to find. It really was right next to the Osa house as the passerby had told him. Its wonderful scent shrouded the area.

  Knock Knock, Chase gave the door quick taps. No one answered. He gave another knock on the door; still no one. It was dark inside.

  ‘Oh, no.’

  It must have closed. Chase sat down at the door. It was completely dark now. He started feeling anxious.

  ‘Other wineries are probably closed too. What should I do next?’ Chase thought, his hope vanishing quickly.

  He looked at the sky blankly. Tellis was bigger in the sky today and its belt could be seen more clearly. A little bit of cloud floated here and there, looking somewhat sorrowful. Tellis’s soft green rays reflected off the bells, which in their grace shined like stars on the earth. Chase gazed at them longingly and temporarily forgot the disappointment with himself that marred his thought process. Suddenly, he got up on his feet.

  “Desperate times call for desperate measures,” Chase muttered under his breath. He had a feeling that coming all the way to this place wasn’t for nothing after all.

  CHAPTER SIX

  The Culbert family was one of the most powerful nobles that Sarum had ever produced. The Sages were handpicked by the king and approved by the Council, which meant Sageship was not hereditary. In most cases, the candidates for the Sages were pretty apparent to both nobles and the king. They were prominent figures who had achieved a great feat, had the majority of the nobles’ support, or come from a very powerful family. All these things were often interrelated; being from a rich family would gather more allies, which would then make achieving great deeds easier. Dean Culbert’s case was exactly like so.

  The Culbert family had been for centuries one of the richest nobles in Sarum. His ancestors had all been renowned scholars and living up to their reputation, his family had produced two Sages, including Dean Culbert. This had made the Culberts a leading power in Sarum.

  Dean Culbert’s day usually started with reading a bundle of reports that came to his house every morning. The reports all came from his twenty five councilmen. They reported all the events that had happened, regardless of the significance of them. Some of them were concerns and suggestions, some were requests, some were simple reports of events and some were notifications of future events. As a Sage, he had to read all of them every day and respond to them immediately if they needed immediate actions. If the reported matter required all members’ inputs, Culbert would then open the White Half Council, which only the administration councilmen attended. The Red Sage, Derek Reynhart, led the Red Half Council and both halves completed the regular Council. The Half Council meetings were a lot more frequent and took place with Culbert as the chief without the king’s presence. What was determined and approved from the Half Council was presented at the regular Council for the final approval from the king.

  Culbert worked like a clock. He always had a routine that he followed without a second of error. He valued his time more than anything; time, to him, was the most scarce and precious resource.

  Culbert vividly remembered the way he had felt when he had first seen the face of the king. He was then a little boy visiting the palace with his grandfather, the first Sage from his family. Life in the palace seemed so exciting and fun. It was teeming with so many people doing their jobs and all of them respected his grandfather, Nathaniel Culbert. He thought it was odd that people he had never seen before in his whole life treated the little boy he was with such respect, using honorifics when addressing him. He didn’t really understand what being a Sage meant at that time.

  At the end of his visit, he ran into a man in a suit of armor as red as fire. He was standing alone in a vast training field all by himself with another person at the far end of it, who looked to be his trainer. The armor glistened under Metilda, which brought out the red in it.

  “That man in the red armor is King Royce, the Wise,” Nathaniel Culbert whispered to Dean. Despite the good distance, Dean Culbert could see the sweat beads on the king’s forehead and his satisfied smile. The king stood like a boulder, which even storms and lightening couldn’t harm. Dean saw a halo around his head.

  “My king….” Dean mumbled to himself, dumbstruck.

  However, those days fizzed into thin air in a blink of an eye. The king then and his grandfather had died a while ago and sadly enough, Culbert couldn’t see any resemblance of the king he had met in the current king. Time was brutal. Before too long, he would die and become a part of the past. He couldn’t die without changing Sarum. One to conceive the right ideas and possess necessary power to implant them was one thing, but for him to make them come true was another. It would be a waste and a sin for him to have them all but fail to bring them to reality. He couldn’t die before then. He just could not allow it.

  The Culbert house had about hundred servants, which were quite modest for a house that not only had one but two Sages in its history. There was only one who directly served Dean Culbert and his name was Cory. Cory had been serving Culbert ever since he had been born so even though Cory was now old and frail, he trusted Cory’s loyalty and competence as the chief servant.

  Cory, as usual, had put Culbert’s morning tea by his bed and made a clean stack of reports on Culbert’s desk in his study. Wherever Culbert was, Cory was always there to serve him, norm
ally waiting behind a door. Because Culbert had a very precise schedule, punctuality was a must for Cory.

  Culbert woke up, had a cup of lemon tea and went to his study to read the reports. Culbert spotted a letter with a gold taping on its side. The gold tapings indicated that the letter was of high importance that needed his immediate attention. He opened it.

  White Sage, Terry Osa from the Moongrave district has increased the revenue of the district, built many schools, established foreign affairs, and built roads connecting major cities. Since his term started, the Moongrave district has flourished. Recognizing his feat, we would like to recommend him to the Council. It was signed by many nobles.