by Jeremy Dwyer
“These are the old tally mark numberings,” Romana said. She began transcribing these into decimal place value numbers on the page of a small notebook she carried.
Alonso began recording all of these things into his book, awaiting the significant event to which Portia had alluded. He looked over Romana’s shoulder and saw what she was writing and transcribed it. He knew what the old tally marks were, and how to decode most of them, and realized that Romana did as well.
“Would cobra venom be the poison from these vases?” Romana asked.
“Possibly – no one ever told me for sure,” Portia said.
“Cobra venom is organic – it’s a substance from an animal, so I can look a little more closely. It’s a third way,” Romana said.
“I’ll admit I never thought of that,” Portia said. She purposely never thought too much about how to identify which vases contained safe liquids and which contained toxins, for fear that her strategizing could be noticed by a telepath. The only ways that were immediately obvious would be alchemy or poisoning hapless victims.
Romana drank anew of the waters of the Gradaken Ocean from a vial that she carried. She was energized and gained the ability to control animal and plant life and the matter of which they were made.
Before Romana proceeded, however, she knelt down to pray: “I pray to Thee, One True God, that by these waters which Thou hast provided, I may be graced such that I can discover the truth which will enable me to act and to serve Thy Will, and not to delve into those places into which such as I am not meant to be.” She then stood up.
Alonso recorded Romana’s prayer and her actions into his book.
Romana placed her hand into the first vial, touching the contents within, and realized at once that it was cobra venom. She was unaffected, because animals and plants and their toxins were under her control, and she was protected. She did this to the next and the next, all around the twenty-four (24) vases until she determined which nine (9) were cobra venom. The others did not register as anything at all other than water. She was not an alchemist, so she could not tell which water it was. She marked down the numbers from the vases corresponding to the nonpoisonous liquids.
Alonso noted each one of these, finding the matter interesting. Yet, he suspected Portia meant more. She was the infamous librarian – who many thought should be dismissed. He, however, believed that a significant and interesting story was behind all of this.
“Now, we know which vases contained poison and which did not. What are the next steps?” Romana asked.
“The Seventh Hall. The Grand Atlas,” Portia said.
Alonso followed as Romana and Portia hurried off to that hall, knowing that this was going to be an adventure. It was why he became a Chronicler – the story was the reason he lived.
They arrived at the Seventh Hall and Portia hurried to the room known as the Grand Atlas – a room that was a square mile in area and contained maps of every continent, land bridge and known island across every ocean. There were numbers to each of them, and Portia took the numbers that Romana had determined and cross-referenced them with the maps.
Portia had her own notebook and wrote quickly, calculating the position as best she could. She sketched a map into her notebook with geographic markers containing forests and coastal keys that could be used to find the location.
Alonso watched and copied what she was writing into his own book. Portia then said: “I know. I finally know.”
“What is it that you know?” Alonso asked. He was generally curious. He couldn’t read her mind, but her emotions were betrayed by her tone of voice and facial expressions. While inferences from those cues were not admissible as part of a Chronicler’s records, he did his best to mentally note them. Something profound was happening.
“In confidence, I will tell you. And I want you to come with me, because what I know is a place,” Portia said. Her face was focused. She was filled with relief after all of these years of bottling up the secret.
“Then in confidence we will go,” Alonso said.
Portia then led the way out of the Seventh Hall and toward the docks, with Romana and Alonso following close behind her.
She went to book passage on a ship and realized she lacked the money.
“I will take care of that,” Romana said.
“Where are we going?” Alonso asked.
“Javanda. The answer is there,” Portia said.
“The answer to what?” Alonso asked.
Portia delayed answering him while she walked up the boarding ramp, followed by Romana and Alonso. After they boarded the ship, they overheard discussions among the crew about the darkness in the suns and the increased difficulty of navigation.
~~~
“There is a strange sound emanating from the suns, and solar directions are less clear, captain,” a crew member said. He was a younger man – perhaps thirty (30) years of age, with no hair, but still handsome and physically fit. He carried charts and maps with him, as well as having a sextant and a vial of water with the markings of the so-called sun waters upon it. These markings indicated that he was an Atrejan water drinker, so his role as a navigator was obvious.
“Are you telling me we cannot sail?” the captain asked. He was an older man, dressed in a heavy coat and a captain’s hat. He was perhaps sixty-five (65) years old, with gray stubble. He looked angry, and did nothing to hide it.
“No, but our travels will be slower, and uncertain, as we search for the right path. I will drink anew, that the Atrejan waters can guide me,” the navigator said.
“Are the waters pure enough?” the captain asked, gruffly.
“The waters are pure, captain. The sky is not. This will be a long voyage,” the navigator said.
“Then we will charge the passengers more when we arrive in Javanda,” the captain said.
~~~
Alonso recorded this conversation between the captain and the navigator, along with the details of the circumstances, into his book.
Romana became concerned over the conversation, because what Portia had said earlier about those luminaries was sounding as if it might just be related. She had intuition and logic, and these circumstances were triggering both senses that the danger was real and growing.
They went to their private cabin and Portia answered Alonso’s question, speaking softly: “the answer to where the luminary is – the light that brings the darkness.”
Alonso wrote this down in his own book and was immediately stunned. He believed that the candle he had seen earlier – the one that was lit by the man named Pandaros – may have been such a luminary. Yet, he could say nothing, despite that man’s murderous actions. He didn’t know the nature of the sacrificial act, so he couldn’t be sure if the Oath’s Tenth Tenet exception applied, because there was no strong evidence of demonic involvement that he could perceive.
“Is that the darkness of which the people were speaking? Is this what the luminaries are said to bring?” Romana asked.
“Yes. Only a few of the other luminaries have been found and lit. That is why we can still see at all,” Portia said, quietly, seeming distant again. She was afraid of how much worse it was going to get. Yet, it still pained her less than what she had been living through all these years. The emotional pain was devastating – her current fear was less of a burden than her lifetime of hatred. She even felt a little love, as Romana had acted as a friend to her, and it was soothing to her damaged soul like never before. Still, Portia did not fool herself: the danger of the darkness was real and immense.
CHAPTER 31: Search for an Island of Shipwrecks
Cassius, along with his assistant Liora, had taken temporary residence at an inn that was located in the interior of the continent of Ihalik. It was there that they waited out the tempests brought by Victoria. Many travelers came to the town, if only because it was a point in between important locations on their trade routes.
He and Liora rested themselves in a small tavern, not because they drank liquors �
� which they did not – but because many travelers did. As they passed through, they brought news of the events of the world. After many days and nights of waiting and wondering, a small group of men – about seven (7) of them – came in to the tavern. They were clearly young sailors, and one of them had his eyes on Liora, as he hadn’t had a companion in a while. She looked at him and immediately realized that he was not the sort of boy to be bothered with. A good boyfriend would be a catch, Liora thought, and she was still waiting for one. She regularly traveled with Cassius, but he was all about money – and willing to do anything to get it. Besides that, he was an old man with no affection for anyone. That didn’t mean she would lower her standards, however, so this young sailor boy could sail on to the next port, or wherever he was heading, and she planned on hiding in the proverbial fog until he did.
“She’s dead! The storms are over!” one young sailor said.
“They burned her ship. The whole crew’s wiped out,” another young sailor said.
“It was in the Dead Waters, she sent everything at them, and they killed her,” a third young sailor said.
The barkeep asked: “How’d they beat her?”
“They had their own tiara!” a fourth young sailor said.
“No! They took hers! What are you talking about?” a fifth young sailor said.
“Some old lady sang a song and stopped her,” a sixth young sailor said.
“What song did they sing?” the barkeep asked, smiling, almost laughing.
“Give me a strong drink!” that same young sailor – the sixth one – said.
“What song is that?” the barkeep asked, laughing out loud now.
“It’s not a song! I don’t know any songs!” the sixth young sailor said.
“All we know is – she’s dead,” the seventh young sailor said.
“We know more than that! She killed millions! And some girl sang a love song and everybody went into the storm, to find her, and they died. The storm was still going on!” the first young man said.
Cassius took great relief in knowing that the reign of Victoria had come to an end. It was no pain to him that a great many millions had died, for he wasn’t among them. Rather, he had been troubled at the danger on the seas. Conducting business required travel upon the oceans, and the tempests that the Ahitan woman brought to each one obviously made that dangerous, if not impossible.
“Come now, my dear. The storms have ended. Business must continue. There are profits to be made, so it is time that we got on our way,” Cassius said.
Cassius then took Liora by the hand and they returned to their room, gathered up their belongings and made a quick exit from the inn.
Nearby they found a landing area for small airships. These were low-flying airships suited only for overland travel to the nearest seaport. There, they could book passage on a full-size ship.
“Where are we going?” Liora asked.
“To where business is good…and only for us,” Cassius said.
“What do you mean?” Liora asked. She wondered if it was another of Cassius’ dangerous schemes. He would kill for wealth, so it wouldn’t be surprising if he had something terrible in store. She didn’t really want to be associated with this murderer – or to be targeted by him – so she was conflicted about what to do.
Cassius paid for them to travel to the northern coast of the continent, slightly to the west of the Road of Kovoxotu land bridge. It was a slow trip lasting (2) days, as the low-flying airship had to navigate through the hills of Ihalik.
Along the way, Cassius and Liora discussed the matter in their private cabin.
“We are to the traveling to the Zovvin Ocean. That is where business is good,” Cassius said.
“Why? That’s the ‘ghost waters’? They’re haunted,” Liora asked.
“Exactly, my dear Liora. Not as many like to travel there, but I don’t mind at all,” Cassius said.
“Why go there if they’re haunted?” Liora asked. She never quite understood what the old man meant until it was too late. She knew that he was wickedly clever, so there had to be a reason. She just knew that it might be a bit frightening.
“Every ocean has its share of shipwrecks and spilled cargo of value. The Zovvin Ocean is not an exception. The difference is that many of them in the other oceans are recovered fully, but in the ‘ghost waters’ – as you refer to them – many are simply abandoned, not being worth the effort, due to them being ‘haunted’. Considerable profits are there to be made by those who would have the means to recover the lost cargo,” Cassius said.
“You don’t believe they’re haunted?” Liora asked, as Cassius seemed to be speaking condescendingly to her.
“I most certainly believe that an abundance of spirits can be found there. I just see an opportunity where others see difficulties,” Cassius said.
“How is being ‘haunted’ an advantage? It’s dangerous. People get scared, and their ships are crashed by the ghosts,” Liora asked, truly mystified.
“I shared many secrets with you, my dear young girl, but not everything. The spirits can be unwelcoming to some. It just takes a certain way of doing things to have a more lucrative exchange,” Cassius said.
“If you drink the Zovvin Ocean waters, you can talk to spirits. I know that. But that’s not what you drink,” Liora said.
It was only a little over a year ago that Liora went through the Jenaldej waterbinding trials, and she knew what all the waters were. Careful study of all the waters and their varied powers was required of everyone beforehand. No matter what water you might end up with – ever if you were sure based on manifest talents – you had to be prepared for any other. The trials were randomized, and depending on the order in which the tests were conducted, you might find yourself bound to a water different from what you expected. A person might have a compatibility with – or, as they said, affinity towards – many waters, so there was no certainty. The randomization was considered the best way to represent all waterbindings, rather than to have gaps in the capabilities of the citizens.
“I don’t need to drink those waters to achieve the outcome I want,” Cassius said, smiling at the young woman’s ignorance.
“What do you need?” Liora asked.
“Trust me. At the right time, I’ll let you know,” Cassius said.
“It’s dangerous if you’re wrong. Why can’t you tell me now?” Liora asked.
Cassius reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a blue stone on a heavy chain. He put the chain around his neck and showed her the stone.
“Do you know what this is?” Cassius asked.
Liora drank anew of the Kazofen Ocean waters from her vial. She was energized with the power to manipulate crystal and to see into its structure.
“Do not touch it!” Cassius said sternly, holding his hands up so that Liora couldn’t get close.
“I just want to look into it, with my eyes. That’s all,” Liora said.
Liora then gazed into the stone and saw its structure. It was like a blue topaz, but the structure was fluid inside. It seemed to shift constantly.
“It’s liquefied topaz inside of a solid topaz shell,” Liora said.
“By the limited perspective of your keen senses, that is true. Yet, there is so much more,” Cassius said.
“What more?” Liora asked. She understood crystal, but she realized that the world had light and dark; song, star and spirit and other elements of which she had far less understanding.
“There are energies within here that the spirits dare not touch, lest they feel a pain and are driven away,” Cassius said.
“How can that be? How does that even work?” Liora asked. She didn’t understand how the spirit world could be affected. She knew that a person had to actually drink the waters of the Zovvin Ocean to have powers over the spirits – then they might be able to dispel ghosts. Putting those waters inside of a crystal wouldn’t activate the spirit powers, as far as she knew.
“The world is so much more complex t
han you can possibly understand. Every combination of the waters and their manifest powers must be considered. Just know that this has served me in the past,” Cassius said.
“If it doesn’t serve us now, we’re going to be in a lot of trouble,” Liora said, doubting him.
“That is true, of course. Yet, you worry needlessly, dear girl,” Cassius said.
When their overland voyage was complete, they arrived at the northwestern coast of Ihalik facing the Zovvin Ocean. There were many ships docked and Cassius and Liora found one headed toward the Way of Raza’Deptorum.
It was on this ship which they booked passage. Cassius paid four (4) platinum coins for each of them to the captain.
The vessel they boarded was eighty-five (85) feet in length, so it was much larger than the inland airship. It was also capable of greater speeds, even though it would only be traveling at sea level for their current journey. It had two (2) pairs of thirty-four (34) foot tall pivoting double-masted sails for airship travel over the ocean when needed. The inland airships could be much slower even than travel on the surface of the waters, due to the terrain features that the airships had to face at low altitudes over land. Some terrain was much worse than others, so the top speed varied considerably.
When they boarded the ship, Cassius said to the captain: “We only wish to travel as far as Nalhayadin Island.”
“Shipwrecks and more shipwrecks. An old fool ya’ are. I’ll take ya’, if I can, but I’m not waitin’ and I don’t know who’s gonna’ bring ya’ back,” the captain said, with a look of disgust in his aged eyes. He was perhaps fifty five (55) with a head of dark and gray hair and muscular features, but a tired expression, as if he had been at sea for too long.
“The return is our trouble, not yours,” Cassius said.
“I know. I just don’t care,” the captain said.
Cassius and Liora went to their cabin, and Liora felt nervous.
“If he’s not planning on bringing us back, what’s your plan? If there’s something on that island you want, we still need to get back with it to make a profit, don’t we?” Liora asked.
