Looming Shadow: Journey to Chaos book 2 (29 page)

“I haven’t seen the
Exile in over eight years. I thought he was dead.”

“I see. That is
troubling.”

“What kind of disease
are these soldiers talking about?”

“We have seen cases of
blood conversion and necro-poisoning. In fact, one victim of each resides in
this port, so I may tend to them while I wait. I presume you wish to see them?”

Basilard nodded and
followed him to one of the less intimidating buildings in the harbor.

Seeing that the problem
had passed, the gate reopened to allow
Margret
to leave. Kutho and
Haburt shook hand-flipper goodbye. He would return in a month to pick them up.
In the meantime, he had fish to catch. The gate closed behind them and the
sound of steel against steel made Eric jittery. He didn’t like being trapped
here.

Beyond the station for
the death priest, there were only government buildings. There was the customs
office that housed the agents; big and bleak and lifeless. There was the
barracks for the soldiers; similar but more primal and dangerous. Finally,
there was a jail and adjacent gallows.
If the guards were so eager to shoot
us, then who do they take there?

More than the
buildings, it was the population of Yebo that put him on edge. Soldiers milled
about in places, guarding or gambling, but no civilians or merchants. All of
them were one hundred percent human. Not one beastfolk, elf, or quadruped in
sight. No one had tails, claws, or even fur! 

Anxiety rapidly built
up within him as he tried and failed to spot anything familiar. The air was so
thin and all alone and it popped like a balloon and Eric jumped into the
harbor. Nolien walked to the edge and raised an eyebrow.

“This is hardly the
time for a swim.”

“This water is too much
like Threa's water! Where's the magic! Where's the monsters! What if I'm
dreaming! What if you aren't really standing there!”

“Ceihan Intoxicosis,” Nolien
mused. “But with an added complexity...”

He placed his staff on
the ground, took off his shoes, and jumped in. Tiza watched, baffled, as he
swam to Eric and dunked his head under the water. Eric was equally baffled. He
didn't struggle until he ran out of air. Then, and only then, did Nolien allow
him to breathe.

“Did that feel like a
dream?” Nolien asked calmly, as though he hadn't attempted to drown one of his
best friends.

“No. Never in my
wildest dreams would you act like Tiza...Sorry...”

“It's okay. Ceihan
Intoxicosis is a nervous disorder caused by the lack of mana in Ceiha's
territory. It causes anxiety, depression, loss of appetite, and some others
things.” He gave Eric's shoulder a friendly pat. “We'll finish our mission and
get out of here as quickly as possible.”

The three of them
played a number of games to pass the time: I Spy, Rock Paper Scissors, Tic Tac
Toe, etc. They would rather have sparred, but the soldiers scowled when they as
much as touched their weapons. Eventually, Basilard left the death priest’s
temple and rejoined them.

“There's a rogue Bladi family
member loose in this country.” His tone was so light and casual it worried his
students. “Keep an eye out for anyone with hair and eyes like mine. Do not try
to fight him,
Tiza.
Run away and I will take care of it.” He addressed
Haburt and said, “Thank you for waiting.”

“You're welcome. It
gave me time to resolve any remaining issues at the customs office.”

The port's exit was the
same was the same as the entrance. It was a grim grey gate. Soldiers stood on
and at the feet of it. All of them were thin and likely underfed. In his Magic
Sight, Eric saw the same shriveled spirits he saw in those of his home world. Instead
of guarding, they were gambling, talking, or rough housing until Haburt got
their attention by clinking two coins together.

What followed was a
repeat of the naval gate: bring out the paperwork, have them reviewed and then
approved, and grease a few palms, but this time, the gate didn't open. The
soldiers refused to let them leave. One of them, better dressed and shinier
than the others, stepped forward.

“Customs informed us
that you expressed concern about the security of our country,” he said affably.
“We want all travelers to know that they are in good hands within our borders.
To that end, we have arranged a special demonstration to put your fears at
rest.”

He blew a whistle and
directed their attention back to the interior of the port. The door of the jail
opened and a pair of soldiers marched a young girl forward. She couldn’t be
more than ten years old. Her hands were bound behind her back, her ankles were
fettered, and her mouth gagged. As she drew closer, Eric could see her dress
was ripped, her arms and legs bruised, and her face tear-stained.

“Hold still and watch,”
Basilard whispered. “We're only mercenaries.”

However reluctantly,
Nolien obeyed and so did Tiza. Eric thought
Screw you
and called on his
inner darkness. Silently, he put his entire mind and soul behind manipulating
the shadows. It was difficult under so much sunlight, but with effort, he
pulled the shadows of the gallows and soldiers to greater length. One of them
slithered onto the girl's left ankle as she was pushed up the platform.
What
the abyss am I doing?
I don't know even how this shadow thing works!
The hangman slipped a noose over the girl's head.
Whatever, I'm doing it
anyways!

A clerk stepped next to
her and pulled a sheet of paper out of a binder. She placed it on top of the
closed binder, put on a pair of glasses, and read, “This girl is Zettai
Centurion. She has been convicted of the following crimes: stealing forbidden
knowledge, conspiracy to create monsters, evading arrest, unlicensed possession
of bladed weapons, aiding and abetting criminals, attempting to escape police
custody, and attempting to obstruct justice through self-slaughter.”

Eric paused to marvel
at the list of transgression and wonder how they were committed by someone that
looked so frail and helpless. Then he renewed his efforts to manipulate the
shadows.

“The sentence for the
first crime by itself is the death penalty. Thus, by the power vested in me by
the High Council of Ceiha, I authorize this girl's execution. She will be hung
until dead.”

Nolien bowed his head,
clasped his hands, and recited a prayer to the Goddess of Life for the girl's
rebirth. Tiza wished she'd taken her dagger-throwing lessons more seriously.
Haburt averted his eyes. Basilard read his dirty book. The hangman reached for
the lever.

Dredging up all his
willpower and heroic desire, Eric thrust the shadows up and folded them over
the gallows. In the ensuing panic, he whispered the Dark Veil, Lupine Baffler,
and Wind Cutter spells in quick succession. He didn’t have time for the full
chants, so he increased the mana for each and forced them through on willpower.
Inside the shadows, a second veil of darkness wrapped around Zettai and a
sphere of air masked the sounds of her breathing and heartbeat. Then a blade of
air severed the noose and the Lupine Baffler masked the sound of her footsteps.
The sunlight quickly dispelled the shadows, but by then, she was gone. The
gallows themselves were invisible as well because it wouldn’t do for a cut
noose to give away Eric’s deception.

“Wow!” he exclaimed.
“You can invoke Dakool and he'll show up for executions! I had no idea you could
do that here! No wonder your crime rate is so low compared to Ataidar! I can't
speak for my teammates, but I for one feel
much
safer now.”

Without missing a beat,
the clerk said, “Yes, Dakool has a special affection for our country. His gate
alone is open to us. Stay on your best behavior and you will come to no harm.”

“Absolutely, ma'am!”

Then, without warning,
his eyes rolled back and he blacked out.

It was Nolien who
tended to him first. Basilard took a second to snap with both hands and renew
Eric’s spells. The young mage was pale and shivering. His breathing was rapid,
shallow, and irregular. None of the soldiers or clerks moved a muscle and, for
that, Tiza gave them the finger and accompanying curses.

After the mages
examined him and conversed with each other, they decided upon a solution.
Basilard reached into his pack and pulled out a bottle of Mana Juice. After
unscrewing it, he placed it in Eric's mouth. He gulped down the glowing green
liquid and settled.

“He has a severe case
of Ceihan Intoxicosis,” he explained to the guards. “He's the mage of our group,
so your atmosphere affects him more than the rest of us.”

The clerk on the
gallows nodded and the soldiers relaxed. Basilard hoisted Eric over his shoulder
and waited for the gate to open. Tiza closed her eyes, moved behind Basilard,
and subtly grabbed something. Nolien casually fell in line next to her.

The port’s exit led to
a paved road that extended into the horizon. The area to both sides was unobstructed
for exactly one mile. The land was also brown, barren, bumpy, and spotted with
craters. The paved road was cracked, potholed, and otherwise in disrepair.

Team Four and its
client followed this road and it grew rougher the further they tracked from the
port. There were other military installations along the way, but all of them
were on side roads branching off the main one, and these were in even worse
condition. They walked slowly until they were out of sight of both Yebo and the
other installations. Around this time, Eric woke up and he gasped like he was
coming out of water instead of unconsciousness. Basilard set him down and
asked, “How do you feel?”

“...Mana...Juice...”

“I already gave you
some.”

“....Mana...Juice...Please...”

“Why? This is an opportunity
to develop –” A bare foot kicked his shin. “Very well...”

The novice mage
received one gulp before his mentor pulled it away. He still felt like shit but
now he felt strong enough to stand up. Knowing what Basilard would say, Eric
didn’t ask him to drop the spells. Instead, he turned on Magic Sight and looked
for the keystone in their spell diagrams. Then he stabbed each one with the tip
of his crystal, breaking them and dispelling the enchantments. It was only now
that he could take a good look at her.

Zettai was thin and
scrawny, likely from a lack of food. Her head only reached his stomach. Pale
blonde hair reached her waist and hung over her eyes, ragged and unkempt. She
wore nothing but a thin, sleeveless mini-dress. It failed to preserve her
modesty because it had holes in places. The cuts and burns to her limbs were on
full display, and her wrists and ankles were chafed from the ropes.

He pulled the gag out
of her mouth.

“Thank you for saving
me! You were amazing! You really must be Dengel’s ves-
emph
!”

He put the gag back in
her mouth. Her eyes welled up, her shoulders shook, and she muffled so
pleadingly he took it out again.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t
mean to compare you to Dengel. I’d be upset too if I had to measure up against
such a –”

“Shut up and turn
around.”

She gasped and stepped
back quickly, which led to tripping in her fetters and landing on her butt.
Eric knelt and grabbed her ankle so he could the cut the fetters, but she
kicked his hand and scooted away. Nolien sighed and stepped forward.

“Eric, you have to be
gentle with trauma victims. She’s obviously gone through a tremendously
stressful experience that involved a great deal of pain. You can’t say things
like that and not expect her to behave defensively.”

He pushed his fellow mage
aside and addressed Zettai directly.

“Hello, Miss Centurion.
My name is Nolien Iteleh. As you’ve already guessed, his name is Eric Watley. I
apologize for his brashness; he’s irritable because of the atmosphere and other
factors like Dengel’s shadow. He’s not going to hurt you; none of us are. All
we want is to remove those ropes and heal your injuries. All right?”  

She hesitated. For some
seconds, she simply stared at Nolien and his smile. Then she nodded.

“Good. Now if you’ll
just hold still, you’ll be free in an instant. Okay?”

Zettai nodded again and
Nolien brought out his dagger. He cut through the rope on each ankle and took
care not to accidentally cut her. Then she rolled over so he could saw through
the mesh lashing her hands together. All the while, he softly chanted basic
healing spells to ease her pain, reduce her burns, and close her numerous cuts.

As soon as he was done,
Zettai turned around and kissed him full on the lips. Tiza’s jaw dropped, Eric
moved away from the danger zone, and Basilard read his dirty book. Nolien
himself removed her arms from around his neck and pushed her away.

“Your gratitude is
appreciated but unnecessary. I’m just doing my duty.”

“Duty? Does that mean
you guys are superheroes?!”

“
No,
” Eric said.
“We’re just mercenaries.”

“But you’re the one who
saved me! And you summoned Dakol to do it!”

“That was a lie. I used
darkness magic to make it look like Dakol came.”

“If it wasn't for
heroics then... it must have been defying authority for fun!”

Her eyes lit up and the
happiness spread to her entire face. It was quite charming.

“You really
are
the Trickster's
Choice!”

Eric’s eyes narrowed.
“That's worse.”

She tilted her head.
“What other reason could there be? Do you think living in this country is a
fate worse than death and want to prolong my suffering by saving my life?”

“For the last time,
no!”

“Then why?”

“Because...I...I have a
mission to complete. Go home!”

He turned his back on
her and walked away. She stepped forward and grabbed his hand.

“My home is far away
and I'm a wanted fugitive. Someone as noble as you wouldn't leave a helpless
little girl all alone in the wilderness without food or water and –”

Eric tried to free his
hand, but her grip was remarkably firm. “You are hardly helpless and I'm not
noble.” He pointed to Nolien with his left hand. “He's the noble one.”

“I'm not a noble!”
Nolien protested. “I'm a commoner.”

“I meant
noble
the character trait.”

“That's not fair! This
is about you and your trickster-style heroics!”

“Which were obvious, by
the way,” Tiza injected. “You were concentrating so hard it looked like you
were constipated.”

“Miss Centurion,”
Haburt stated, “as you state, you are a criminal and I don’t want your status
as such to interfere with my mission.”

She smiled harmlessly.
“Oh, that? Lots of people want to learn magic and who could blame them? It’s so
useful! I help spread it around to put food in my stomach.”

“What about your
parents?” Basilard asked.

“Those assholes!? They
don’t give a rat’s vomit about a screw-up like me!”

“A girl your age
shouldn’t use such language.”

“That’s the same thing
they said, right before they hit me!”

“A young child from an
abusive home that wants to learn magecraft and that my trickster student
rescued from lawful execution.” Basilard did a double face-palm. “Ancestor,
give me strength.”

“Have you made a
deduction, Mr. Bladi?”

Basilard dropped his
hands and placed one on BloodDrinker. “Yes, Professor. I believe The Trickster
used us as tools to overturn this girl’s fortune. If we leave her behind, she
will follow us and odd coincidences will make sure we can’t lose her.”

“You make me sound like
a parasite!”

“You will attract
attention and consume our supplies without contributing to our cause. That
makes you a parasite.”

Zettai’s eyes welled up
again and, this time, the well broke. She cried loud and long before him. All
three of his novices
and
his client stared harshly at him. He dropped
his shoulders, patted her head, and apologized for insulting her. She ran to
Nolien and wiped her face on his chest. Nolien comforted her while checking
Tiza’s mood. She was mildly annoyed but not mad like he feared.

“Eric, why don’t you
discuss magical theory with Miss Centurion? I’m sure she would appreciate your
skill and expertise.”

Eric was about to
refuse, but then Zettai faced him with her bright eyes and wide smile. It was
too adorable to resist, and he had nothing thing better to do, so he agreed.
This raised her spirits further and such happiness from a cute girl was just
the tonic he needed for his Ceihan Intoxicosis. Walking side by side, they
discussed all things magical for the rest of the day.

 She had a startling
amount of bizarre misconceptions about magic. For instance, that it could only
be performed during a full moon, required materials such as “hair of ewe,” or
that one had to draw runic circles, clap their hands together, and shout, “Who are
you calling short!?” It got to the point where Eric told her to forget everything
she knew about magic because it was all hogwash.

“But…but…Dengel’s
manuscripts…”

Eric brought out his
own well-worn copy of
Introduction to Magecraft
and put it in her hands.

“
This
is the
real deal. That other stuff was likely made up by whoever told it to you
because neither of you know any better.”

Eric started with the
basics: Chaos, Order, Noitearc, and the struggle between them. This led to the “Straw
Theory” that pulled mana into their world fruit. This led to the Eleven Mana
Gates that supplied mana and color based on the element. Zettai was giddy and
hung on Eric's every word. Then he started the topic of mana mutation.

“If magecraft were
common in Ceiha, then monsters would appear.”

“Really? I thought that
was a lie.”

“Nope. If it were a lie,
then people like me would have a hard time making a living. Regular guilds’
members are frequently on monster hunts to keep the population under control.” 

When night fell, Team
Four set up camp and cleaned up their newest member. First, Nolien cut her hair
into a manageable and fashionable style. When asked, he said that his sister
found it more convenient to burst into his room than make an appointment at a
salon. Afterward, Tiza gave her a set of clothes and kept watch while she
changed behind a rock. When she stepped out, she looked cuter than ever. Eric
had to remind himself that this was no fragile maiden but a criminal with a
long list of crimes. However, when she asked him insightful questions about
magic with an earnest look on her face, it was hard to be guarded.

 She became
progressively more engaging with each question. Each answer turned into another
question and soon she made him pause to think before answering. By the time
dinner was over, her understanding of the basics was good as his and they moved
into debating theories as equals.

In the morning, Zettai
woke up and stretched, feeling refreshed and energetic. Her companions crawled
out of bed with the energy of a sick person and the attitude of a hangover
victim. They left their tents slumped over like hunchbacks. Even Basilard
didn't move as easily as usual.

“Is this what your
homeworld is like?” Tiza asked.

“Trickster, no. Despite
its lack of mana, Threa is closer to Roalt than this place.
This
place
is closer to a dystopian novel.”

The countryside as a
whole was depressing. Team Four+ walked for days along the broken main road and
didn't see any sign of life other than a rest station every few dozen miles.
Aside from small and scattered farms, the land was brown and barren. Even weeds
didn't grow here. There were tall hills and mountains, but no clouds gathered
at their peaks. Occasionally, they came across ponds, but none of them
supported fish or other forms of life.

Eric! I need to talk
to you!

Hello, Kas. Who’s
bothering you today?

Kuaki protestors!
The ones that support the movement say that Ataidar has ignored the situation
too long and needs to take action to prevent injustice. The ones that resist
the movement make the same arguments but from the opposite angle! Together,
they're clogging the gate, stuffing my inbox, and my assistant's phone has been
ringing off the hook all day!

First of all, what
is Kuaki, and second, why should you care?

Uagh...it all began
with a stupid orange...

Team Four’s destination
was the Twin Mountains: Mount Heios and Mount Daici. As they drew closer to
them, the roads disappeared. They became the more familiar ones of dirt, but
these were not compacted like the ones near Roalt. They were not often
traveled. Team Four+ was entering a no-man's land known as the Special
Administrative Zone of Deimos.

No one wanted to come
here – not tourists, not merchants, not soldiers. Eric read about the cause
during his nine-day library stay, but by now, the details were fuzzy. He
remembered something about pipeline failure and a monster outbreak, but nothing
more, so he asked Zettai. She pointed to a pipeline that ran alongside the
road.

It was a slim oval tube
that stood five feet off the ground and was mounted on two legs. Both were made
of steel and coated with plastic. There were holes along its length that looked
like acid ate through the steel and corroded the plastic; uneven and melted. In
these areas, the rust was the worst, but spots and streaks could be seen on all
sides. Inside, mold and fungi grew like a carpet and breeds of small insects
flew about pollinating flowers, eating flowers, eating other insects, and
forcing other insects from their territory. The derelict pipeline contained
more life than most of the countryside.