“Come, let us slip by these poor souls and make our way south.” Convenient got up and led Fenix into the brush off the side of the bridge.
Fenix did not doubt his ability to sneak past the searchers, and Convenient seemed able enough despite the amount of armor he wore. He moved quite silently actually and was adept at blending in with the environment. What must once have been a proud tabard of white silk was now stained and dirty, helping him blend in with the landscape.
Ironic?
“Why south?” he asked as they moved, keeping his voice to a low whisper.
Convenient didn’t stop or turn around but spoke just as softly. “The path south from arrivals and the vortex will lead us to Outsiders’ Town. There you will find the Seductress Quelina. If you still seek a teleport key, she will be your best chance, since old man Page is least to be trifled with. And, regardless, I do not know where he lives.”
“I could not defeat Torn. And you are correct, I should grow and learn more about the Prison. Improve my skills further. Do you believe Quelina is an easier target?”
He caught the flash of yellow teeth. “No, no, she is not an easier target than Torn. The whore of prostitutes, the enigma of desire, she is no minor player, not at all. But she does have something you will want that will lead you to someone who does have a teleport key.”
“Please, explain.” Fenix kept his impatience from his tone.
“Of course. Did you travel up the other side from the path to the Warrens and see that fort blocking access to the only other way we could go?”
“Yes, I saw it. Quite the construction, and guarded by beings in full armor.”
“That is the one, yes. Well, those beings and many more of their kind are all beholden to Joanne. She is the leader of their group and quite unloved by the other powers in the Prison. The Warlock trades with her, but otherwise has no great desire for anything further. Old man Page makes alliances with no one, and Quelina, frankly, loathes the woman.”
The conversation paused when the two men had to duck out of sight of some convicts carrying torches who moved past on a small trail above the gully they were in. Once the prisoners were passed, their surreptitious sneaking continued, as did the explanation from Convenient.
“Joanne is on some sort of crazy mission. She regularly raids Outsiders’ Town. It is a vast land mass, a third more extensive than the size of the Festering Warrens, and houses many strange and wonderful beings.
Joanne seeks them out to destroy them, obtaining Vitae and completing some kind of misguided mission of her own creation.”
Fenix was beginning to get the idea. They fell silent when they got to the bridge. On the far side, a group of inmates waited, watching the bridge for any sign of someone trying to cross.
“Quelina may be quite happy to encounter someone willing to kill Joanne, especially a particular someone who would want Joanne’s teleport key. It serves to be a constant threat to Quelina and the other residents.”
“May be happy?” Fenix asked, curious as to the amount of certainty there.
“Aye, lad, she may. She is a capricious creature, but don’t worry. I expect the worst she will do is exact more of a price for her aid. You will certainly get her attention with your suggestion. You see, Quelina locked up the only other clear passage from the forest land mass on which Joanne and her communion of followers reside. The one entrance is the fort you have seen, but it is many days’ travel to Outsiders’ Town from there along the narrow path that winds around the west.
“Not an easy journey, and certainly not good for a raid and easy escape. The only other way is via the teleport, and Quelina has the one on the land mass of Outsiders’ Town locked up and sealed, except when she uses it. But it is a constant threat, and there are other landmasses connected nearby, with their own stones. So if you help her, she would be happy to let you take whatever prize from the cold dead corpse of Joanne that suited your fancy.”
“An interesting notion. Shall we see about getting over this bridge then, and trying out the theory?” Fenix was itching to acquire some more Vitae, and the bridge guards would be adequate targets for his frustration over his loss to Torn.
Excerpt from “The Boloi”.
On the magic-filled world of Phareum, the gentle Naru people have lived for generations under the protection of the Boloi. Carefully selected from the Naru themselves and trained to wield powerful magic, the Boloi defend their weaker brethren from the Asagi, invaders from beyond the physical realm.
In return, the Naru allow the Boloi to rule over them and to guide them in all ways.
One Naru, however, is different – Odon, son of traveling performers, with a burning intensity that is rare for one of his people. For most of his young life, Odon has used his raw magical power in his performances, dedicating himself to the perfection of his talent. That all changes when a series of misfortunes strip him of his parents and livelihood.
All he has left is his sister, Ayana, and he will do anything to protect her.
From the fighting pits of Omuzi Anga to the employ of the powerful Boloi Mosa, Odon will fight to keep his sister safe. But he will not be defenseless against the forces threatening them. Fate will provide him with a weapon – a sword blacker than night, with powers his world has never seen.
Fate will also lead Odon to the revelation that all is not as it seems with his people and the Boloi. And the Boloi, in turn, will come to fear Odon and what he represents to them when his sister comes to be at risk.
He is a final, justified, death.
**
Sunlight shone on the waving grass, which spread like a blanket in every direction away from the ruts of the road they followed. Far off on the horizon to their right, the heat shimmer of the arid lands colored the sky.
To their left, the blanket of luscious plant life grew greener the further it went inland, most of Naru being a water-generous land.
It was only the north of Naru that was a barren and inhospitable place. No Naru had seen any need to try and set out and start a village or place to live within the desert conditions, not with so much calm prosperous land to live on everywhere else on the continent.
It was always considered an ill-omened landscape because the difference from grass to bare sand was almost a straight line all the way across northern Naru, from one end to the other.
It was uncertain quite why this was, and neither the Quo nor the Boloi spoke about it. All they knew was that it had happened in the great cataclysm which had ended the time of the Ancient’s millennia ago.
The Boloi studied it as part of their research into how the Asagi came into the world of Phareaum from the beyond, or wherever it was that they came from.
The caravan did not give it any thought; it was just another feature for all Naru and helped for navigating this far north. Traveling by following the sun from rising to fall, they kept the north to their right and headed for Omuzi Pume.
It was a long journey, one that the caravan was used to.
Traveling around Naru always took some time.
The northeast of the continent had always had various villages settled around the two lakes of the area. Travel from these villages to the coast brought Naru to the old ruins among the mountains, what looked like half of a city torn away into the sea.
The Boloi had found the other half of the city on the continent to the north of Naru, they explained that the great cataclysm had ripped larger continents apart into what Phareaum looked like today.
Down along the eastern coast all the way to Omuzi Mosa were plains, grasses, and wetlands for the growing of rice, maize and wheat. The west coast produced fish farms, fruit trees, orchards, and other soft ground plants.
The middle of the continent had two Omuzi; the large city in the north was Omuzi Pume that the caravan was going towards. In the south was Omuzi Anga on the great inland lake that fed the river downstream to Omuzi Mosa.
The fourth great city was Omuzi Wend on the northwestern point of Naru, the inland lagoon and se
aports larger than those in Omuzi Mosa were. Central Naru had the most considerable cultivation of crops; although the east coast could be used, it was not as safe.
The Boloi spread out their protection from their Omuzi, only the recent construction starting in the northeast of a new Omuzi would pull more Naru to that side of the continent. Not that it was well populated, it was more than large enough for the Naru people, and they did not allow foreign immigration.
It had been part of the culture of the Naru and the Quo, the Boloi had maintained the practice even with their advances and the new government. Their only concession had been to allow other nations places to live and have embassies in Omuzi Wend.
Many of the Abadlali trained to forage and hunt for food, supplemented by what they bought or traded as they went along. This particular route was sparser than most because of the lack of villages. There were very few Naru settlements, so the caravan had to subsist more from the land to the south.
Most of the men would range out slightly ahead of the caravan and southwards. With their stamina, they could easily return to meet the slower wagons before nightfall. At night, they all prepared the evening meal together.
Some of the elders stayed among the wagons, while the women tended to the wagon train and the education of the children. Nighttime was the physical practice for the plays and acrobatics, training and exercises.
Most of the academic learning was done while traveling.
*
“Exalted Boloi, how may I be of service?”
“Concentrate on your pronunciation, Odon.” Latai chastised, not hard but firm.
“Yes, Mother.”
She sat on the wooden bench just above the front of the wagon, the reins, connected to wooden rings in a set of straps that held the oxen’s heads, held loosely in her hands. The big beasts followed the next in line placidly and without much need for instruction from her, unlike Odon at the moment.
She looked back over her shoulder and could see why her wayward son was not getting the words quite right. He was entertaining Ayana with a small game of polished stones and wooden rings.
“Odon,” she said sternly, although with a warm smile inside.
He gave a startled glance up to see her looking back at him. He gave a nod of respect and turned back to face her, legs crossed. Ayana gave a deeper nod and shuffled the game backward so that she could play alone.
“Now, try again, please. The opening phrase will always say a lot about how much you truly respect the Boloi. Your diligence and care with the words is the sincerest form of respect you have.”
“Yes, Mother.”
Odon began the sequence of phrases once more, and Latai listened with only half of her attention for any obvious flaws. The young man could already speak the language of the Boloi fluently; the extent of his vocabulary was complete.
She made him practice to ingrain the perfection required, the Naru pride. It was only when he was distracted that he tended to fall short, which was the main aim of the exercises.
Naru attention to detail took a lot of focus and concentration. From a young age, they all had to learn how to maintain this for hours. Latai happily listened to her son continue, feeling very proud at how he was growing.
His reading had improved enough that he was teaching Ayana Naru writing.
“Odon.”
“Yes, Mother?”
“Why don’t you take a break, go see if you can find your friend.”
Odon slumped in relief; Latai could see it out of the corner of her eye and smiled. The long journeys were filled with hard work to keep the younger children distracted from the tedious traveling.
The adults were patient, they had learned this aspect of their life, but the children and especially the energetic Odon were less inclined to wait. So keeping them busy with chores, studies and training were best.
However, there must also be time for children to be children.
“Thank you, Mother.”
Odon looked over at Ayana playing quietly. “Do you want to come along?”
His sister looked up and gave a sweet smile, her dimples crinkling up at her cheeks.
“I’ll stay here and talk to mother.” She giggled. “You can go.”
“Why thank you.” He bowed low as if she was an empress giving him permission.
Odon hopped over the side of the moving wagon to land smoothly in the grass. With a wave at his mother, he took off at a run moving ahead of them alongside the wagon trail.
Latai turned her head to smile at Ayana.
“You are so kind.” She said.
Ayana gave her dimpled smile again. “I know!”
*
The wagons moved at a pace about twice as fast as a man would walk, which in the distance involved wasn’t very fast.
Odon was able to sprint along the entire caravan line of wagons if he wanted, he would outrun them easily at his top speed. But his slow jog was enough to catch up with the wagon that had Thabo in it.
His friend saw him coming, his own lessons were easier but involved things to do with building or repairing the stage like carpentry and some basic engineering. On the road, Thabo would practice math, designs and drawing with smaller blocks representing parts and joins.
Thabo’s nightly practice was the practical aspects of repairs and work on new wood or shaping other pieces.
Odon saw his friend speak with his own mother quickly before receiving permission to hop down and join Odon.
The two of them grinned and took off at a run, as boys generally behaved; they made it a race, to get past the front wagon as quick as they could. It was only a few minutes, and Odon won, far enough ahead of Thabo for the difference in their speed to be clear.
The two of them slowed to a walk, keeping ahead of the caravan by a few hundred meters.
“It’s not fair you know, I’m built for strength, not this kind of sprinting,” Thabo complained.
Odon shrugged. “You always say that.”
“It’s always true.”
They laughed together at Thabo’s feigned pain.
Up ahead of them the boys spotted a pool of water, probably from the recent rain that had swept down from the arid lands to the north. Angling themselves towards the pool, they took up a slow jog, looking to the sides for long dried reeds as they went.
Thabo picked up and discarded a few before settling on what seemed a nice firm but still flexible stick. Odon looked carefully before finding his own. By the time, they got to the pool they were already bragging.
“I’ll get mine further than yours.”
“Look at my stick, its longer, I’ll have a lot more swing on mine!”
As they had hoped, the ground around the pool contained a good quantity of mud, up here in the north it was sticky like clay and could be clumped onto the end of their sticks in solid handfuls without falling off.
The game was to dip in the stick, pull it up at an angle and get some of the clayish mud onto the end. Then the boys would flick their wrists, both standing in the same space, to see how far and with how much of a splash onto the grass, they could throw the mud.
A dry reed whirred through the air and a few meters away the mud hit with a dull splat.
“That was a poor throw; I’ll let you have another to make up for it,” Odon told Thabo.
Thabo grimaced but was happy to take another shot, Odon’s last throw had been at least three meters further along. He dipped the stick, angeled his wrist and picked up another large clump. Checking the aerodynamics of the misshaped clay, he figured that this one would not be heavy enough to fall short.
He flicked his wrist and watched with confidence as the mud flew up, it went higher and higher until suddenly it developed a wobble that spun it over in a second and sent it down into the grass.
Still short of Odon’s last throw.
“Another free try?” Odon asked kindly.
Thabo had grown up with Odon, so he knew that tone, he turned around with his eyes squinted.
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“You, you are cheating.” He accused.
Odon put on a face of innocence, it was a good one, and he was a great actor after all.
“I would never.”
“Oh yes, you would.”
“Not to my best friend.”
“Oh, especially to your best friend, you can’t handle losing to me.”
“I can.”
“Then prove it.” Thabo cried out, he had been pushing his stick into the soft mud behind him while he kept Odon’s attention.
He spun around while bringing the stick up and flicked it sideways, a move that would sometimes drop the mud right off, so it was risky, but could also create a lot more momentum.
Just as his new projectile was clearing Odon’s mud splat, the clump blew apart and upwards with a small popping sound.
“Oops.”
“Ha, I got you!” Thabo spun back around to see Odon holding both hands palm upwards next to his head with a shrug to show he gave up.
Thabo shook his head with mock sternness. “You are using magic, when did you get good enough to make such a small bolt?”
Odon lowered his hands and looked over at the mud in the grass.
“I’ve been practicing with the toy balls we have, trying to knock them around as softly as I can.”
Reading something in Odon's expression, Thabo asked. “It isn’t going that well is it?”
“My aim is a bit off because the bolt flares out, so I can hit the mud and knock it down if I get some time to concentrate. That one you just did was great caught me by surprise, so I used too much force. When I practice on the balls, I send them all over the place.”
Odon smiled wryly.
“I am getting better.”
“I’m jealous you know,” Thabo said.
Among Naru honesty was a given, their culture was one that taught decency and aversion to deception. Their civilization was based on these foundations; otherwise, it could collapse or be taken advantage of as so many of the foreign nations did.
Odon put his arms by his sides and gave a low bow to his friend, showing a respectful apology.
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