“My son’s friend there lives in Watawara. They should have the room to house us if things keep getting worse.”
“If things keep getting worse, no house in Jegeru will be safe. If you can, gain passage to Wregor. I cannot be certain your king will not turn on his own capital. Can your horses keep moving?”
Patting his brown and white horse’s neck, he said, “I always buy the best! We planned on going another hour or two before stopping somewhere.”
From what I knew about the animals, his horses did indeed appear quite fit, and when in the air, I saw no one pushing their mount to their limit. Still, simple arithmetic told me they must not have had too many breaks to reach this point.
Looking back at Aritomo, I said, “Locals say there is a tavern less than an hour away. They should have a bit of food for you and your horses. We’ll be moving on ahead. I wouldn’t mind traveling together, but we need to move with haste at this point. I request that you help spread the word of the Advent and their horrors. There remains a chance that prompt organization from enough principled leaders can preclude the giants from spilling over Jegeru’s borders. And Hanying, I realize it’s unlikely, but please keep an eye and ear out for Mercer and Captain Shao, the griffin captain.”
“I, um, yes, I will try.”
“Thank you. And I welcome you and your companions to meet us in Tawahori, though I will understand if you prefer staying close to your family. Farewell, and gods guide you all.”
Chapter Ten
Mercer
A mere mile through Hohn Bay already put us a world away from the ongoing purge of an entire city. The golden gitra I rode on swam its thirty foot long body smoothly past the ships and smaller boats, its head ten feet above the water. That same head resembled one of those angry eel-fish things, though there was a row of short spines on the top of its scaly scalp that shrank the farther down the back of its neck they went. Its body’s texture and shape was closer to a snake than an eel.
As the gitra was wider than a horse and wore no saddle, my legs had an awkward time getting comfortable. I had to settle for Kiku’s sitting technique, which had both my boots underwater as they hung off the right side of the beast. The only thing to hold on to were one of three ropes tied around the gitra.
Kiku, who sat more sideways than me, stroked the scales exposed above water and said, “His name is Akachii the Fat. Don’t remember where I got the first part of the name, but he was half as long and twice as wide when I first summoned him! Turns out he just ate something big, so he lost the weight quickly.”
“Right. So, are we going to see this seer master of yours?”
“No. He’s a very private person.”
“Is it because he serves the gods of strife?”
“Ah, so you figured it out. I suppose mentioning corruption in a good light is a dead giveaway.”
“Then you worship them as well.”
“Yes. My sect specifically gives the god of madness, Raquldir, his due.”
“How do you do that?”
“It’s the little things, dragon knight. Many believe Raquldir wants to destroy the minds of every breathing being, but crazed servants are not good servants. He would rather prove the folly of mortals trying to rule themselves with unjust laws and self-seeking sovereigns. Mortals like to believe we’re closer to gods than insects, yet you can put a human mask on an ant or bee and see little difference in how we behave. The masses toil for the benefit of a few.
“The gods of day and night pretend an old tome is enough to guide us. Ha! It sounds like laziness to me. It’s through Raquldir that my master led me to you. It’s Raquldir that showed my worthy master the many ill fates of Orda this new war can bring… Oh! And Raquldir encourages drunkenness! That’s always fun!”
“That last point doesn’t appeal to me.”
“Your loss.”
“I hope Raquldir or your master isn’t staking everything on me.”
“I don’t claim to know all their thoughts and plans. However, I know the giants have faced resistance in one form or another ever since coming to Orda, and they will continue to face it whether you choose to fight with or without my help. Maybe Orda’s armies can win without a dragon knight, but it should be obvious that one dragon knight is preferable to no dragon knight, hmm?”
“No argument there. Well, besides getting me out of Uratama, how do you plan on providing me with help? Stabbing me with a corrupted crystal?”
“My sect does not own any corrupted crystals, none that I know of, anyway. None sharp. Be that as it may, we do hold knowledge of corruption. My master says someone you know also carries such forbidden insight. Is that true? Do you know someone who dabbles in the taboo?”
“I may know a certain redheaded scholar.”
“Then we should join forces with this person. Multiple visions imply his help will enhance your odds of not dying.”
“If I even decide to take those odds at all.”
“Oh, right. Seeing you already choosing the corrupted path a hundred times over has already made it an enduring memory on my part.”
“You saw these visions? Are you a seer as well?”
“No. I’ve only seen peeks my master lovingly imparts. Still, they are quite… intense. Seconds can feel like days. Delightful pain can turn into unbearable pleasure in an instant.” A smirk both shy and sly came at the end of her comment.
I shifted my attention to the shimmering, undulating bay waters for a moment, attempting to gain a prophetic vision or two of my own. When that failed, I turned back to look at Kiku and said, “I only have half a soul left. I had to discard the other half in order to kill a nismerdon in Furubiro. That’s how I lost my corruption in the first place. No matter how many times you’ve seen it in your mind, corrupting my last remnant of prana doesn’t sound like the best of ideas.”
“Sometimes we don’t have any ‘best of ideas’ to choose from. How many good ideas are left for Uratama’s people? How many would take the opportunity you have now? If you want to keep fighting the Advent, then you need power, and you already know the power corruption can give you. You know what it will take to harness its madness.”
“Aye, a powerful enchanted sword I no longer have.”
“Are you sure you’re a dragon knight? So much griping.”
“I don’t see you corrupting your soul for Orda’s sake.”
“I don’t have a dragon to summon. Look, we have time before any corruption can happen. Think it over for as long as you need. You’ll soon come to realize that the only recourse you can take is what my master has foreseen if you wish to make any meaningful difference in the Advent War. You’ll realize that your only other option is to live pure and helpless as corpses pile around you.”
“Is that so? Do you trust your master would have shown you visions that don’t have me succumbing to the corrupted realm?”
“My master is powerful, but even he cannot control what I see. I’ve relived the cruelty of my mother and uncle many a time, or watching my baby brother waste away from starvation and disease. My own deaths are a common theme. Seeing myself being hanged seeps into most of my nightmares now. I can’t count the number of times I’ve felt my neck snapping. Still, those feverish visions intermixed with the miraculous. I’ve seen what was, what is, and what could be, both in this realm and in those beyond.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t even know what I’m seeing in many of them, yet I break down in tears all the same. Other visions are simply too fantastic to exist in anything but a god’s dream. Other times I watched in bafflement as a ship of steel and without sails soared above the clouds. Or those underwater cities lit by green torches and inhabited by blobs with too many mouths and curly feelers to count. Sometimes I got to witness vast wars that have yet to be. Most divinations are vague hints, too vague to be certainties, though no doubt a few will come to pass.
“How much you trust what I claim to have seen is up to you. Indeed, several of my visions have
come under the influences of certain rousing vapors and powders, so even I can’t say everything I’ve seen comes from a lucid state, but it sometimes requires a morsel of self-inflicted madness for a mortal’s mind to handle the gift of a god. You should try it.”
“One gift of madness at a time.”
“Your loss. My point, dragon knight, is that I am here to help give you the nudge you need. My master has sensed your doubt. You would have certainly come to the conclusion that corruption is the key to achieving your true potential, but the longer you delay, the foggier your future becomes. Embrace what the Advent made you, Mercer. If I didn’t embrace the only people who tried to help me, then I would be as dead as my brother. I wouldn’t have found purpose. I wouldn’t be here to aid you.”
“Look, I do appreciate your help and advice, no matter how biased it all is, but don’t act like there won’t be consequences to accepting corruption back into my life.”
“Of course there will be! Decide if they’re worth it. Me and my friends can be hunted and hanged at any moment. Coming to you leads to many deaths for me, several by your own blade. Once you even strangle me. That hasn’t deterred me any. Whatever you choose to do, we must get to your redheaded friend with your mind made up. For my sake, I promise to leave you alone if you decide against corruption by then. Uh, do you know where your friend is?”
“He and the others should be heading for Tawahori right about now.”
“Tawahori, huh? Hmm, the quickest way would be to keep swimming until we get to Yong-Yin’s shoreline. Then we can cut across Yong-Yin and Shia to get to the Wregor Sea. Akachii should take us far as long as we don’t swim into any storms. Gitra like to swim beneath rough waves, so not good for us.”
“How long can you keep Akachii summoned?”
“Uh, five, maybe six hours a day? Though that’s because I don’t like getting too tired, so I can probably add another hour if need be.”
“Need be it is. My companions should be on griffins, giving them a good head start on us.”
“If only you could summon a big lizard with wings. Doesn’t a strong corrupted spirit sound nice right about now?”
“Don’t push your luck, Kiku. At some point I’ll reject the idea altogether just to spite the incessant recommendation.”
She kicked her bare feet on the water, creating a splash that sprinkled on to me by way of the wind. “Okay, okay. You get it. I get it. My job is done.”
“It may be, but in the event I let you meet the scholar, what could you tell him about corruption?”
“I can show him rune keys and incantations forbidden to all but the most devout of strife worshipers, so we should be able to collect corruption pretty easily. If his prana command is at least average, then he can also help you manage the corruption overtaking your soul and body.”
“I’d say he’s better than average.”
“Wonderful! Your chances are looking better and better.”
“Have you ever seen someone being corrupted? Nothing wonderful about it.”
“I don’t pretend to think otherwise. My master has shared visions of the misery it has wrought on entire civilizations. Even the gods of strife know the power is an imprecise tool. However, a useful tool it can still be. It’s true the corrupted realm always seeks to add to its territory, and the easiest way to do that is not by warring with strong worlds, but to assimilate those already near oblivion. A few seeds of corruption can save a realm from such a fate.”
“‘Save’ is a strong word. Some would prefer oblivion than being ‘saved’ by forced delirium and agony.”
“Some, yes. A small matter of opinion from those unable to defend their own world. Harsh, yes, but equally as necessary, or so I’m told. Doesn’t really matter to me. It happens, and if the gods allow such things to happen, then they happen for a reason. Whether it’s a good one is not our place to say.”
“Well, maybe I’ll say something after I finish with the Advent.”
“Ah, that’s sounds more like the dragon knight I once fell in love with.”
Raising an eyebrow, I asked, “In one of your visions?”
She nodded. “If I recall correctly, it’s also one of the visions I died after a bout with a bad fever. Sooo, if you get annoyed by any love I show, then be rest assured I’ll die soon after.”
I shook my head. “Let’s not talk about visions and corruption for a while.”
“What do we talk about, then?”
“Who says we need to talk about anything?”
“I don’t know. I like to talk.”
“Then talk, but I won’t be listening.”
“Ah, so it’ll be like we’re married.”
Contrary to her claim, Kiku did stop chatting for a while, giving me a chance to reassess my situation in peace.
Meanwhile, Akachii slithered through the bay at a fluid speed that easily bested the fastest sails. Intrigued by the otherworldly creature, the oncoming morning light revealed a group of dolphins swimming and leaping all around us. They kept a wary distance at first, but their excited squeaks and occasional playful forays to cut off the gitra gave them the assurance that they were safe from being chased off. If his gain in haste was anything to go by, Akachii seemed to become perturbed by the submerged company. The dolphins eventually needed to go about their day, leaving everything lonelier and quieter.
The warming, salted wind felt nice on my face, which stayed stuck on a detached expression for the duration of my early soul-searching. I knew Ghevont would bear no qualms about helping me corrupt myself if I so chose the option. Ha! Who am I kidding? He’d be thrilled by the prospect. The others less so. Clarissa would of course be worried about my life, but for someone who volunteered to become a vampire, she would have to understand that she couldn’t argue against corrupting myself. I respected Gerard, but he had no sway over my decision making.
That left Odet and her sister. Logically, accepting corruption excluded me from being a king—not that the day-to-day responsibilities of being a monarch intrigued me to begin with. As of this moment, it was Odet’s reaction that loomed as the biggest obstacle to reaccepting corruption. In the end, it might be the best thing to have a legitimate reason to get her to leave the path I walked, to put an end to my vain connection with the Astor family.
Unless the gods of day and night sent down their own special seer to guide me, I was going to make up my mind weeks before I had to.
Chapter Eleven
Odet
We crossed hundreds of miles in the two days after leaving Hanying’s company. At least another hundred could have been traversed if I did not find it prudent to allow the griffins and riders to rest as much as they were comfortable with. It would have been unwise to push ourselves only to need the energy in an unexpected crisis.
The middle of the third day showed a noticeable upsurge in travelers. Such an increase alone did not strike me as unusual considering that we neared Jegeru’s capital and trading center, but the fact most marched away from the capital put my suspicions on notice. The number of children and elderly, many of which without a mount or cart to rest any drowsy legs, added to the foreboding.
Going down to check with several of these groups confirmed that they were fleeing from a sudden attack in Watawara. Though they assumed it to be the work of Wregor, no one saw their attackers, only a dark ward that enclosed part of the capital city. We informed them that the same, non-Wregor attack was transpiring in Uratama and to thus avoid going too far east. To those that could manage it, I advised absconding to Shia by way of Pukam Forest. No easy trek for a royal escort, but a safer option had not yet presented itself.
A few hours of flying later brought us within sight of Watawara, though caution placed us too far to see details. While the city had several walled districts, most of it lied sprawled and open. Two thin arms of the Wregor Sea came close to making an island of the southwestern section of the city. Unlike Uratama, plant life appeared to be sparse, though it could be that the nismerd
on absorbed their green.
No dark ward could be seen in the afternoon light. However, a great chasm sprouting serrated roots thirty or forty feet high encircled the dense core of the capital, entrapping upwards of fifteen thousand people. Black and white smoke rose at or near the broad crack. There must have been hundreds of brave souls trying to break through the entangled roots, both within and outside of the snare, but no true army was in sight.
So many questions to ponder. Had Jegeru’s king betrayed his people? Was he ever truly in power? Did he run with his army days ago? Or was he among the dead? Whatever happened, it was clear the Advent had taken special care to make Jegeru as a whole its first victim. And no wonder. The natural barriers that once protected its borders now acted more like the bars of a cage. The Advent, even with only a moderate Jegeru force on their side, could conceivably repel all but the most determined and imposing of invasions. We needed Wregor’s full support.
The best we could do for now was land well outside the city and give out information and guidance. It appeared that most ships forsook the docks, meaning that escape on mount or by foot were still the most realistic choices. How I wished I could share my wings to them! To endow the exiled the privilege of something I had taken for granted these last few weeks. It broke my heart to fly away from eyes that pleaded to be rescued from this unfamiliar, dangerous ordeal. I did not envy the riders’ ability to understand the audible begging.
Despite our aerial advantage, the burdened beasts were showing signs of fatigue as we flew northwest, tracing the bulging shoreline of the Wregor Sea. Carrying two people all this time was draining their endurance each subsequent day they flew with the load. Periods of rest occurred more often and lasted longer. A forced repose from nature occurred two days after leaving behind Watawara when a thunderstorm blew in from the sea. A blessing in disguise for the griffins.
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