An Emperor's Fury: The Frayed Rope

by Paul Heisel

  They informed her that the interviews and tests would begin tomorrow, so she was free to do what she wanted for the afternoon and evening. When she asked about going into the city, they told her she could do as she pleased. She decided to go into the city and talk to the leather maker. With a bright yellow ribbon tied to her hair, she went to his shop in the marketplace. Around her there were many shops, some were permanent, most were temporary tents, selling everything imaginable. Fruits, meat, prepared foods, preserves, trinkets, jewelry – you name it, it was here. The smells were a strange mixture of the filth of the overgrown city with a hint of baked goods breaking through.

  Her contact was an older man, white haired and skin damaged from years working in the sun. She struck up a casual conversation with him while he fixed shoes. He worked into the conversation about his youth farming the land and that he sold a variety of leather goods – gloves, belts, sashes, cases, satchels, purses, and rucksacks. He was chatty and determined to sell her new soft leather shoes, very fashionable, highly desired by the privileged women of Bora. The shoes he presented, although well-made, wouldn’t suit her purpose. He laughed heartily when she told him that she needed shoes she could fight with, ones that could give and take a pounding. Finally he convinced her she should be wearing boots instead of shoes. The boots were soft and could be tied off, and had a split toe for stability. The soles were leathery with some rigidity, and the leather hawker pointed out they were designed so they wouldn’t make much noise. Owori gave him her worn shoes in trade, paid the balance with a sliver coin, and went back to the monastery.

  When she returned to her room later, she was able to let the nervousness out. Deep breaths calmed her. A man had followed her through the town and had watched her during the evening. She wondered if the man knew she had passed a written message to the leather maker inside her old shoes. In about a month, she was to go back and give her second report in a similar manner. That would give the leather maker time to courier the coded message to Caleth, and by then, she would figure out how to pass along the second message. Perhaps she would need new gloves.

  She waited for the door to come busting down, for them to have found out her purpose already. Fight them she would if she needed to. In desperation, she could always blink and make a run for it. The surprise of that would be enough to give her time to escape. But no guards came to the door, only an elderly woman who told Owori she could have dinner with the monks. The matron also mentioned that if she was indoctrinated, then she would be moved to a different part of the monastery. That night she was restless and didn’t sleep well, and her dreams of Feln were vivid. He was lost and she was powerless to help him. Even when she was half awake, but still dreaming, she couldn’t control her dreams. They controlled her and she didn’t like it.

  Chapter 2 - Paths

  The next morning the old woman returned and took her to a structure that was apart from the main monastery complex. It was made of stout sandstone blocks hewn from a nearby quarry. The old woman escorting her said this part of the complex was the oldest, having been here for ages before the Accord of the Hand. The buildings were large and rectangular, with sloped roofs covering three upper stories. Upon further inspection, Owori guessed there were basement levels as well. Inside this building were offices and rooms, presumably areas to help run things. Her escort explained there were different zones, by which a variety of the privileged monks lived and trained. In the morning there was a general assembly, where all the monks would exercise, learn the use of weapons, and engage in hand-to-hand combat. The mid-morning was reserved for lessons for those who needed additional reading, writing, and math skills. Those who were educated already could train additionally or spend time studying other subjects of interest. Following the midday meal was small group training where the monks practiced their discipline, their magic.

  The escort took Owori up a flight of steps that ended in a door. Beyond was a balcony overlooking a massive training hall. Hundreds of monks in rows and columns filled the chamber. At the head of the hall was Kara, directing the morning exercises. They chanted at times in unison, sending shivers through Owori. She could feel their power as it pulsated in the air. The monks were of all shapes, colors, sizes, and genders. The men were bare-chested and wearing light black fighting pants. The women had halter tops that showed their midriff, and they had the same light black pants. Colorful tattoos lined many arms, both man and woman alike. The majority had snake tattoos, identical to Kara’s. A few had cobras, rattlers, and copperhead snakes, but most had the green serpent. There were alligators, tigers, lions, and panthers. The tattoos were rich in color, covering the right arm and shoulder. Some were large and covered much of their upper body, others seemed delicate and not intrusive.

  “What do the tattoos mean?” Owori asked her escort.

  “They are representative of the magic they possess,” the woman said. “The tattoos are also a symbol of status in Bora. Monks who have been marked with tattoos are known to be special and are treated accordingly. If you choose, in time, you can have your own tattoo. It’s not compulsory if you’re wondering.”

  Owori looked at her hands and the unfinished tails of reptiles there. She crossed her arms, hiding them. The session continued. The monks worked harder and harder. The regimen was extensive and a handful of the monks were struggling to keep up. When spent and no longer able to continue, they walked toward Kara, bowed, and exited the room, disappearing behind a door.

  “They will now take baths,” her escort said. “The others will continue for another twenty minutes or so, then they will bathe as well. Come with me. It is time for you to begin your tests.”

  The interior of the building was a twisted maze of corridors and Owori found it disorienting. The hallways had the same look on either side, and each feature, be it sconce, lantern, or a landscape picture, was put in the same spot on the walls such that the hallway looked similar from each end. Owori wondered if her escort was moving her in circles on purpose. Finally they arrived at a room where she was instructed to wait. The escort pulled the door shut.

  Owori drew in a deep breath. The room was unused, vacant. The air was stale. It was no more than thirty feet on each side, and had a ten foot, flat ceiling. Inside were two wooden chairs. The walls were made of knotted wood paneling. She circumnavigated the room, inspecting it, wondering if a person was hidden behind the walls and watching through some means. The paneling had various flaws, ranging from small warps, chips, holes, and different types of scorch marks. Damage from magic. She sat down after many minutes passed and waited.

  A knock at the door echoed dully in the room. Through it came a small woman, who shut the door behind. She was barely to Owori’s chin in height. She was wearing light blue robes and her short cropped hair was wet. Every feature of this woman was small and delicate. She was all smiles and her dark eyes were alight. Owori bowed.

  “Well met, I’m Owori,” she said.

  “Well met. My name is Tasha. I’ll be the first to interview you. There are many paths to walk, and in time, we will see what path is truly yours.”

  “What paths are there?” Owori asked.

  “Usually it’s obvious what path you walk if you’ve been using your chi for some time. Tell me, what is the manifestation of your magic? Fire? Frost?”

  “It’s easier if I demonstrate.”

  “Go ahead.”

  Owori called upon her chi and disappeared. While Tasha was gasping, she moved a couple of steps to the side and reappeared. It was but a small demonstration, but Owori could tell by the astonished look on Tasha’s face that it had made an impact. It must have been magic never experienced before now.

  “Unbelievable,” Tasha said, her face lighting up with joy. “Can you do it for extended periods of time?”

  “Yes,” Owori answered, but thought better of telling her how long she could maintain her invisibility.

  “I have never seen magic employed in that manner. What do you call it?”

&nbs
p; Owori paused before answering. Though she termed it blinking, occasionally they would say ‘wink’, as if you were ‘winking’ out of existence. She decided to stick with blinking, though, as it sounded better to her.

  “I call it blinking.”

  “This is a wonderful talent!”

  “I don’t mean to rush, but I thought there were to be tests.”

  “Oh they have already begun. You passed the first test.”

  Owori looked around the room. “What was the test?”

  “I asked you to show me your magic. You showed me a brief glimpse of it, but nothing more. Nor did you reveal to me additional information about it other than the name of it and that you can do it for an extended period. When I was brought in, I gave my first tester a grand display of what I can do. I admit, it was too much.”

  “What is it you can do?”

  “Put out your hand.”

  Owori put out her hand palm up, expecting something to appear or for her hand to catch on fire or freeze solid. An invisible force grabbed her hand firmly and moved it. The magic faded as quickly as it had come.

  “So what did you do in your test?” Owori asked.

  “I picked him up and moved him around the room.”

  “Must have scared him.”

  “Indeed.” Tasha smiled. She untied her sash, then removed her robe and draped it over one of the chairs. She was wearing black fighting pants and had fighting shoes on. The halter top was tight across her chest, making her small breasts look even flatter. Her right shoulder and arm had the image of a tiger on it, partially blocked by her clothing. The blacks shined and the orange was luminescent. Owori felt a pang of apprehension. Tasha was preparing…

  “Now for the second test,” Tasha said. “Please forgive me, because this is going to hurt.”

  Tasha moved back in a defensive position, magic reaching forth. Owori backed away on instinct. She felt an invisible hammer ram into her chest and it knocked her off the ground. The force pushed her back to the wall.

  Owori blinked.

  She disappeared and so did the magical grip on her, and she moved to the left for open space, trying to ignore the pain in her chest. Her head swooned and she saw two Tashas. Her lungs still burned from the initial magical impact. Her new boots were silent as she closed the distance between her and Tasha. She brought forth her chi again, just as she had done with the fight with the Dragonmaster, and kicked. Her foot traveled through the air, invisible, and it struck Tasha squarely. The tiny woman crumpled from the unseen blow and went down hard on the finished wood planks. Moments passed and Tasha remained unmoving. Owori reappeared, but stayed distant, thinking it was a clever trick, another test. A minute passed and Owori approached to make sure Tasha wasn’t hurt badly. Tasha was breathing, thank goodness, but was unconscious.

  With care, Owori brought Tasha to a semi-sitting position and ran her fingers through her short hair. Gently she stroked her temples and finally Tasha’s eyes opened. Her eyes rolled every-which-way, trying to focus. A huge inhale and exhale came, then Tasha went limp again. Owori woke her with gentle shakes.

  “No more tests from me,” Tasha said with a half smile. With effort, she raised her little body to a sitting position without Owori’s help. Small hands caressed her sore jaw.

  “I was only defending myself,” Owori said. “I didn’t mean to hurt you that badly. The kick wasn’t meant to knock you out.”

  “That was the point of this test. My magic, though potent in application, is not as destructive as fire or lightning or frost. Had I used a different type of magic, you might have perished in the attack, which is why this has become my duty. There are others who will come to further our evaluation process, but I have seen enough. You have great talent.”

  “What if I would have been able to use fire? I could have killed you by defending myself!”

  “True,” Tasha said. “But I knew you didn’t have mastery of that, which is why I chose to test you with a physical attack. A monk with a more destructive talent would have been made to demonstrate their control of their gift. I would have made them burn this chair, but without charring the floor.”

  Owori nodded. She understood now that the tests were different for everyone, which meant unpredictability. “Is another person watching us? Watching the tests?” Owori asked.

  “No.”

  Owori took in the succinct answer and believed Tasha. She had so many questions but held back asking, as she didn’t want to do anything remotely suspicious. She was here to find out what Kara was up to, and she couldn't do that if she asked too many questions. Tasha rolled to her feet and stood up in one smooth motion. Owori did the same. The two bowed to each other.

  “I would love to have you in my group,” Tasha said. “There will come a time when you will get to choose who you train with. I hope it will be me.”

  “I will consider it,” Owori said, thinking that was the neutral non-committal answer to offer.

  “I’ll send the next monk for you. His name is Jerr. He’s probably one of the most gifted – and dangerous monks we have here in Bora.”

  “Any advice you want to give me?”

  Tasha laughed. “Don’t make him angry.”

  Owori watched as Tasha went out the door, which latched securely from the outside with a click.

  #

  The time passed but not Owori’s nervousness. The waiting was difficult, and anticipation of what the next test could be made her anxious. Would there be more fighting or magical demonstrations? Questions? She paced for a short time and decided it was getting her nowhere to worry. Instead, she sat on the ground and crossed her legs. Meditation was what Caleth had taught her and Feln to recharge their chi, and it helped to calm her insides and bring her more focus. She was here to report on Kara’s intentions and it was her duty to pass these tests to become worthy of instruction. So far it had gone well, hadn't it?

  Owori wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but it seemed like quite a while before her escort, the old woman, came to the room. With a gentle smile, she gave Owori a tray of fruit and a flagon of water, then departed. Owori ate some of the fruit, the apples and bananas were fine, but the peaches, despite their appeal, were too messy. The water was welcome.

  Not a moment had passed after setting down the water when the door came flying open. She remained sitting on the floor while a monk strode in. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with close cropped sandy hair that was graying on the edges. His face was a blockish, but handsome and tanned. His robe was a dull orange color and it moved with his powerful body. In one smooth motion he undid the sash as he walked, slipped off the robe, grasped it with one hand, and tossed it on one of the chairs.

  The first thing Owori noticed was the definition of his muscles and the sheer elegance and strength with which he moved. On his right shoulder was the tattoo of a snake – a cobra. The white and gray colors of the tattoo circled his arm. He came to a halt near where Owori was sitting.

  Owori stood slowly. “Well met, I’m Owori,” she said.

  “Let’s dispense with the pleasantries. I don’t need any additional charity cases to join my group, nor do I need any gifted youngsters who think they know everything. My name is Jerr if you’re wondering, but I’m sure Tasha told you I was next. She’s always first because she gets to toss you around for a bit or make you control your magic. I, on the other hand, get to do nothing.”

  Owori wanted to take a step back, but knew that would be a mistake. She was certain Jerr respected strength and bluntness. He was here because he had to, not because he wanted to.

  “I knocked Tasha unconscious,” Owori said, “if that means anything to you. I’m here to learn more about my magic, not pretend I’m superior to everyone. The quicker you get done with your interview or test, the quicker I can move on to the next…whatever.”

  “If you think knocking out Tasha impresses me, well it doesn’t. She couldn’t fight her way out of a group of children.”

  “And you could?
” Owori saw that struck a chord. The wrong chord. Jerr’s jaw clenched and a vein popped out on his neck. His entire body became rigid.

  “Step back before I hit you.”

  Owori stood her ground. The air became chilled, as if the heat had been sucked out of the room. Jerr grew darker as he tensed. Wispy fog came from his hands and drifted up, swirling around the ceiling. He was intense, his eyes partially glazed over with anger. His stare went right through her.

  “Step back before I hit you,” he repeated.

  The additional warning didn’t deter her from being stubborn and not backing down, yet she had the feeling he was waiting for her to act. Her choices were few. She could hit him or she could take a step back. This was the test, to see what she would do faced with these choices. The air was freezing now and she could feel the cold emanating from his hands, which were now covered with frost. Chunks of ice dropped to the floor. Owori stared into his glossy eyes. She took a step back.

  “You have failed my test,” he said flatly. He turned and grabbed his robe. Already his hands were back to normal, just covered with water, which dripped to the floor. As he donned his robe, he turned his back to Owori. “Don’t even…”

  Owori, invisible now, walked to the side of Jerr and stood waiting behind his broad shoulders. He turned this way and that, and he looked quite astonished to see the room empty. His fists frosted again and with a sweep, he sent out a ray of cold. He twirled in a full circle, trying to find Owori. She moved with him, keeping behind him, avoiding the initial spray. The temperature in the room plummeted. He was too tall for her to get him in an effective choke hold, so she thought she would have to strike him quickly. If that’s what she was supposed to do.