by Guy Antibes
He had made his farm prosper. It still took backbreaking work, but he produced the best of what ever he grew. His vegetables and fruit sold at higher prices than all the others at market and his oranges were always larger. He’d often get up in the morning and see branches cut from his orange orchard; knowing farmers would try to graft his branches onto their trees. The Gods blessed him with the ability to coax more out of the plants than anyone else in the village, but he suspected his green thumb just might be a manifestation of his power. If that were the case, then the new owner would be sorely disappointed.
He jumped off the cart at the next village and pressed a steel coin into Kinoru’s hand.
“Thank you, old friend. I’ll always think of you.”
Kinoru laughed. “Me? I’m just a peasant, not even a noble farmer such as yourself.”
“You’re still a man I admire, Kinoru. Good luck and good bye.” Shiro’s old life seemed to instantly disappear. He nodded at his friend for the last time and bounded into the dark recesses of the inn.
The innkeeper looked at the cart and then at Shiro. “You have the money to stay the night?”
Shiro showed his tattoo to the owner and let the man examine the new identity stick, given to him by the sorcerers. He now had six weeks to get to Boriako and an unlimited amount of funds to do so. With his identity stick came a chop, a little cylinder with the carved symbol of the Sorcerer’s guild. When the chop was dipped in red ink and stamped on a document, any government office would repay the holder. It gave Shiro the ability to draw on the guild for lodging, meals, and transportation. He took advantage of that by taking the best room and slept in late.
He procured a horse from the inn and set off east towards Boriako, the capital city on Roppon Isle. The journey would take a month, including the long ferry ride from North Isle to Roppon proper. Shiro had never been on a large boat. He didn’t know if he looked on such a ride as an adventure or a curse.
Four nights later, Shiro stood at the entrance to a ramshackle inn nestled in the midst of a stand of woods. The thatched roof seemed to be in disrepair. The paper windows had plenty of holes. The place was likely filled with drafts.
“Newly tested, eh?” the proprietor, a tall woman, walked out to greet him. She had frizzy gray hair that she let grow in long waves, unusual for Ropponi who typically wore their hair straight. Tradition called for women to bind theirs up in large loops wrapped around their heads and men to arrange their long hair into topknots.
“I am. The only one chosen from my village,” Shiro said. He would prefer to stay quiet about his predicament, but the woman must have noticed the redness around his tattooed wrist as soon as he dismounted.
“Let me see that,” she said, grasping his left arm. “You rarely see the wavy line or a red dot. That means you tested out at a very high level. Much Affinity.” Her head bobbed in a knowing fashion.
“What is Affinity, really?” Shiro said. “I’m new to all of this.”
“Farmer, by your clothes. There aren’t too many nexuses in the northwest, so Affinity isn’t brought out in folks quite so much as in the rest of Roppon. In the South Isle, you would have exhibited power early on. You wouldn’t mistake it for anything else.”
She used the term and Shiro still didn’t quite know what she meant by the term nexus.
The woman seemed to sense Shiro’s question. “Nexuses are like water springs. They are conduits of the earth’s energy that bubble up to the surface. Roppon has more than all other continents on Goriath combined. There is an emergence of the nexus just to the north of here.”
Shiro frowned. These nexuses must be the power lines in the earth. He headed south to Boriako, but thought he might want to see what a nexus looked like. “What do these nexuses do?”
“You recharge your magical powers more quickly.” She shrugged.
“So if I used up my magic, a nexus would make me more powerful?”
The woman shook her head. “Never more powerful. Your Affinity allows you to only absorb so much and then your power is full. When you use magic, your power is depleted and you’ll feel tired and your abilities degrade. The nexus will top that up, just like filling up a water jar.”
Shiro finally understood. “How far? I’d like to see this nexus.”
“Heading for Boriako? The nexus is to the north—”
“North is the opposite direction of where I need to go in the morning,” Shiro said. The feeling of disappointment inside surprised him.
The woman gave him a look of curiosity. “It’s about an hour or so north of here. I’ll give you instructions in the morning. When you reach a big meadow, you’ll see an outcropping of orange rocks. The nexus is underneath them. From there, head northeast to the port of Hoksaka. If you looked at a map, it would seem longer. If you end up taking a ship to Boriako from Hoksaka, you’ll arrive at your guild nearly a week faster than traveling south and taking a ferry to Roppon Isle.”
Shiro went out to the back of the inn to use the latrine and the well to wash. He walked back in to find a meal waiting for him. He found the food fresh and delicious and wondered why the inn didn’t enjoy more popularity.
“You’re not that far out of the way. You’re a good cook. I’d expect more travelers to stay here.”
The innkeeper laughed, more of a cackle really. “I don’t need many customers to be happy. More travelers, more work. Those who I like, get my best cooking for free. Those I don’t…” she shrugged and then grinned.
“You like me?” Shiro said taking another bite.
The grin disappeared. “Promise that you will seek my inn should you ever need shelter of any kind on the Northern Isle.” The woman took on a look of deadly seriousness. “A person like you may need friends outside the guild at some point in your career.” She flashed half of a grin Shiro’s way and winked. “If you survive.”
“I intend on surviving and I won’t forget your offer.” He smiled. Why would he ever need shelter if he headed for a life at the Boriako guildhouse? Shiro nodded to promise, so he considered that as cheap payment for the very good meal.
Shiro headed north the next day, stopping by a stream near the road to fill his empty waterskins. He wandered north for a while and found the track the woman had suggested. He nearly lost his way through a forest as he ascended into coastal hills and threaded through a rocky gully and stopped. Below him lay a large green valley with little pockets of woods.
He picked his way down the trail and enjoyed just riding through the place. He stopped at the rocky outcropping and could feel a buzz in his mind. Hobbling his horse, so it could pick it’s way through the wild grain stalks that littered the meadow; he climbed up on the rocks and sat down. The buzzing continued and he closed his eyes.
So this must be a nexus. He felt the power flow through him and automatically hummed until his tone matched the buzzing, and then he could feel his body expand as it never had. Could this be the recharging that the old innkeeper had talked about? It must be.
He spent the rest of the day camped in the meadow, still trying to come to some understanding of why he had power. The buzz from the nexus kept him awake so he had to move further away to sleep for the night. In the morning he sat back up on the rock and hummed the tune again. This time he felt a well being, but no expansion. He had filled his body’s jar of magical power. The thought of having such power still astonished him, but he still would rather be powerless and live in Koriaki with his wife and children. He sighed with melancholy at thoughts of the irretrievable past.
~
Shiro hadn’t been quite prepared for Hoksaka. The city amazed him as soon as he came in sight of it. He’d never seen any city so big before. Few buildings were made out of the whitewashed plaster and timber construction of most of the dwellings in Koriaki. Most of the buildings had roofs of colored tile rather than the more common thatch in Koriaki. He noticed grimy awnings and banners. It looked like city people didn’t take down their building decorations at night.
His horse clopped onto a smooth hard surface he had never seen before. Imagine pavement not made with stones, but hard like stone. Even some of the houses and buildings had foundations and walls of the gray material that paved the streets. There were wonders here amid the curse of crowds and grime. Hoksaka seemed to be filled with new odors. He paused to take a deep breath and smelled the salty tang of the ocean amidst the myriad of less pleasant smells.
He tied up his horse and walked into an eating bar. It sold rice wine and grilled chicken on skewers that could be dipped into an array of sauces.
“Concrete,” the man next to him said when Shiro asked about it. “They have quarries where they find cement, the key ingredient. You mix it with lime and sand and it hardens, like ceramic, but it only needs to dry. No firing.”
“It’s a wonder,” Shiro said. He realized he sounded just like the country bumpkin that he was. “I’m sure there are other wonders in Hoksaka.”
The man’s eyes grew, “Many wonders? I’d hardly call most of what goes on around here wonderful.” He laughed. “You better not spend too much time in town. Hoksaka will chew you up and spit you out without a care of what damage it has done.”
Shiro understood the advice. He had to get to Boriako before he could think about enjoying the darker side of a city. Hoksaka probably had many, many more opportunities to go astray, however, he knew that Boriako would be the worst.
“Do you know of an inn where I can spend the night?” Shiro asked.
The man eyed his tattoo. “You should go to the Hoksaka Sorcerer’s Guild. I hear you people take care of their own,” the man said.
So Shiro accepted the advice and found the Sorcerer’s Guild amidst the very best estates in the city after wandering around and asking for directions many times.
“I’m going to the capital for training.” Shiro showed his tattoo to the guard at the gate. “I need to spend the night and find a boat to sail to Boriako.”
The thick wooden gates opened and Shiro led his horse into the courtyard. He noticed the designs in the gravel. The roof tiles were the darkest of blues, nearly black, and the wooden structure looked weathered and dull. The whole place looked incredibly dreary.
“Stay here,” the guard said as he walked across the carefully raked circles and lines in the fine gravel of the courtyard. As he made his way across, the intricate patterns returned, erasing his footsteps. The effect made the hair rise on the back of Shiro’s neck. Of course, he’d never seen magic performed before, other than visiting festival magicians that lit fire dragons and so forth.
A fat little sorcerer waddled out and demanded to see Shiro’s sticks and tattoos. Evidently that wasn’t enough.
“Hold this.” The man thrust a pale blue marble into Shiro’s hand.
Shiro glared at the sorcerer. “Will I have to be tested again and again?” He curled his lip and tried to calm down. “Piki, Paki, Poki.” Shiro thought of a blooming chrysanthemum, radiating the light of spring. He looked down at the marble and saw a huge flower with waves of light flowing through the petals floating above the stone.
The sorcerer took a step back, eyes wide. “I, I, I didn’t know.”
“Know what?” Another sorcerer walked up, this one nearly as tall as Shiro and commanding, with red-dyed streaks in long flowing hair. A tiny topknot had been wound at the crown of his head. Shiro didn’t need an introduction to know that this was a high-ranking sorcerer. He could nearly feel the arrogance and disdain that radiated from the man.
“This man has the tattoo of a high-level sorcerer, yet his stick says he’s a beginning apprentice, Lord Roniki.”
“Impossible. Someone made a mistake.” Roniki looked at the tattoo, still surrounded by reddened skin from the needles. “Newly tattooed.” Roniki sneered.
“This stick claims that this man is a farmer from a rural village,” the little sorcerer said.
Roniki lifted up his chin. “He won’t stay here. The thing needs proper chastening at the guild house. I care not for the antics of rural wildings. Buy his horse, find him a ship and send him on his way.”
“But with that kind of power, does he not deserve to spend the night with us?”
Roniki twisted his face as if Shiro stunk. “Sorcerer’s only. By my decree, apprentices don’t count, especially for a peasant with some pretense at power.”
Roniki commanded the guard to cast Shiro out into the street. “Wait here until I return,” the little sorcerer said as he made his way past him down to the wharves.
An hour later, a foot woke Shiro up. “Wake, you.” The little sorcerer tossed a bag of coins and a scroll stick in his lap. “Money for transportation and a token for passage aboard the Wicked Wind. It leaves in a few hours. You’d better go before Lord Roniki finds you here. He eats apprentices at every meal.” He laughed at his cruel little joke, but his face softened. “I’m sorry. You should have been welcomed at the Guild and been given special attention, but the lord is very powerful in the Guild hierarchy and his word must be obeyed here, even though he visits us from Boriako. The captain of the Wicked Wind will give you better care than you’ll ever receive from Lord Roniki.”
Shiro rose and stretched, not impressed with his treatment by a fellow in magic, even though the little sorcerer seemed very apologetic. As he made his way to the sea, he wondered if the little man had been kidding with him. He had no idea how he had created the flower. He had just thought of it. He shook his head as he walked down to the waterfront. The smell of the ocean became stronger as the way became steeper, dipping down to the shore.
~~~
CHAPTER THREE
~
SHIRO SHOOK HIS HEAD AND GRINNED as he boarded the large junk. He’d never been on a sea-going vessel before and there they were, lined up like pigs to a trough on the many piers lining the harbor at Hoksaka. None of the men looked particularly friendly as he stepped onto the teak deck of the Wicked Wind. He looked up at the many ribs in the sails. He wondered why they didn’t make them out of one big piece of cloth.
“Examining my rigging, apprentice?” A man dressed better than the crewmen.
“I am. Why not one sheet?”
“Good observation. The winds through the eastern strait are too robust. Men have tried the single sails that they use in the north, but always they shred, even though they take more wind. I’m Captain Mistokko and you are aboard my ship, theWicked Wind.”
Shiro gave the sailmaster a bow. “Shiro, formerly of Koriaki Farm #22, speaks to you.” A little formality wouldn’t hurt, he thought. “I’m glad that I’m on the right boat.”
“Ship.” The way he spoke the word was reproof enough for using the wrong term. Not a good start.
“On your honorable ship, then. I am anxious to arrive in Boriako.”
Mistokko repeated the bow. “We will be at sea for two to three weeks. How can I be of assistance to a new apprentice?”
“I have no idea. I have lived a life without sorcerers and Affinity and magic. I am willing to work while traveling. I’m an able person and can help your crew.” Shiro had never been aboard a boat… no, ship. He’d never learned how to sail and might as well take the opportunity to learn.
“Do you know how to use a sword? I need a sparring partner. The last one left my employ a few months back.” Mistokko smiled and narrowed his eyes. The man obviously sought to scare Shiro, but that wouldn’t happen.
“I have been honored to hold a blade of steel in my hand before. I’m not sure how proficient I am. My father taught me al
l I know, but I only practiced with him. There were no other swordsmen in the village. If you are better than him, I’d be happy to learn more.”
Looking up at sailors in the rigging, Mistokko said, “A wise choice. Putting you among my crew might be risky. I have seen too many accidents in my time for those who would choose to displace one of my crew.”
More words of intimidation. He yearned for the straightforward give and take in the village. He wondered if all conversations carried warnings of some kind or another. Shiro didn’t know if they were true or bluster. He imagined that they contained elements of both. He’d have to be careful.
The ship departed from Hoksaka at twilight as the tide slid out. Shiro barely noticed the flurry of activity above him on deck as he lay down in his closet of a cabin below the high tail of the ship. He drifted back to sleep and woke to the sway of the vessel on the water. His stomach began to protest while he staggered onto the deck.
“Not there, on the other side,” a crewman said, turning him around towards the opposite railing. Shiro rubbed sleep out of his eyes as the wind blew in his face. He made it to the other side and leaned over the railing and groaned. As he emptied the contents of his stomach into the roiling waters, the wind blew back some of those contents back at him.
He heard laughter behind as he turned to see a gaggle of crewmen laughing at his misfortune.
The unmistakable laughter of Mistokko rained down on him from above. He stood at the top of a platform on the ship’s tail holding onto a vertical crank. It must work the rudder, Shiro thought as he looked for a barrel of water to sluice the worst off his soiled clothes. His stomach rebelled again and this time he ran to the other side of the ship, so that what little remained to rise from his stomach flew away into the sea. He turned around and the crewman that gave him the bad advice threw a bucket of saltwater over his clothes.
“Thank you,” Shiro said with as much dignity as he could muster. He noticed the rope tied onto the bucket’s handle. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to do that a few more times, but I hesitate to keep you from your duties, so I’m willing to fetch the water myself.” The crewmen laughed again.
