Zectas Volume IV: The Salubrious City of Centzo (43 page)

* * * * * * 

Gliding beside the clouds, Smoke arrived in Havre after two hours of flight from Nanahuatl. He had to return home for one more time before he set off on another continent.
With the aid of his symbiote ability, Telefax Vision, he saw that it was a well developed village. It had sturdy stone walls and several armed Bowman on top of them.
He surmised that its land area was about only a third of Verbrannt. However, its harbor was far more advanced than Sierra's village. Or for any other village for that matter.
Learning his lesson from Mount Alouer, Smoke lowered himself before he entered the skies of Havre.
"Igniz, time to hide," he said to his dark ember sprite.
Without delay, his symbiote hid inside his metallic-orb compartment.
Smoke donned on an earth mask, which he made himself. He also painted his white metallic staff, and turned it to brown.
His hooded cloak, Wings of Cologus, were already brown to begin with. However, he asked James Jackal to alter it. The Master Tailor turned his cloak to appear that of a Wizard's.
Darius also gave him an ordinary Wizard's trousers with no added effect, but it did complete his perfectly brown motif.
"Who goes there?" suddenly asked one of the Bowman on top of Havre's walls.
"Good day, Sir," replied Smoke. "My name is Faux. I seek to find transport to Sawtorn."
"Never heard of you, and we don't take kindly to strangers," replied the Bowman.
Smoke then reached into his bag, and pulled out one of Prosjak's precious gems.
"Perhaps you know of this?" asked Smoke as he raised it above his head.
"Faux! Of course, you're a High Wizard, right?" said the Bowman and hurriedly went down to open the gate.
"The name's Venal," said the Bowman, and opened his palm to Smoke.
Smoke casually gave him the jewel, and Venal covertly placed it inside his pockets.
"I'm an Elementalist, an Earth Elementalist to be precise," answered Smoke.
"Right, Earth Elementalist Faux, I knew I recognized you," said Venal out loud for everyone to hear.
"Listen, if you want to get to Sawtorn, then I might know of someone," said the Bowman in a hushed tone as he ushered Smoke in. "But it comes at a price—"
Smoke silenced Venal by slipping him two more jewels.
"Right, this way, Faux," said Venal. The two of them headed for the docks.
TO BE CONTINUED...

The calm afternoon sun was setting over the southern seas of Wysteria. Yet, the village of Havre was still bustling with business. Sea Traders were rudely haggling with Merchants, who greeted them as soon as their ships reached the docks.
All of the Taverns were filled with Sailors, and other unsavory seafolk. Smoke even saw some questionable Zectians, who appeared to be members of the oldest profession.
Unintentionally staring at them, Smoke's guide called his attention.
"I was going to lead you directly to the docks, but perhaps you would like a quick visit at one of the inns?" asked Venal, the Bowman who Smoke paid.
"No, no it's fine. Please take me straight to the docks," he hurriedly replied.
Venal shrugged his shoulders. "Well, if you are sure. But if you do change your mind, please feel free to tell me. I have a great discount over at the Butterfly Sanctum."
Smoke strongly nodded. "Yup, definitely sure. I just want to be on a ship headed for Sawtorn."
Then, a HighElf Sonstwelter equipped with a Magician's robe blocked their path. He appeared to be of the same height as Smoke, but was slightly older.
"Hey, Venal. I thought I was leaving for Vitzytl yesterday," said the unknown Sonstwelter.
"High Wizard Malheur, I thank you for your patience and consideration," humbly replied Venal. "But it was out of my control that the ship headed for Sawtorn has only arrived today."
"In fact, Earth Elementalist Faux here is also your fellow passenger," added the Bowman quickly, diverting the attention from him to the disguised Smoke.
"Malheur," said the HighElf Wizard. "Nice to meet you, Faux."
Smoke cordially extended his hand and shook hands with Malheur. "Good to meet you too."
"Pardon my bluntness, but Faux sounds more like a Flame Wizard's name to me than an Earth Elementalist," said Malheur.
"Does it?" asked a surprised Smoke. "To be honest, I tried dabbling with Fire once. Didn't turn out so great."
"You should give it another go," stated Malheur. "I know how dangerous that element is. I specialize with Wind magic myself, and you know how Wind is weak against Fire."
"Alright, I'll give Fire magic another chance," answered Smoke.
"Oh, and what's up with the mask?" suddenly asked Malheur. "You're not ashamed of being a DarkElf, are you?"
"No. Of course not," strongly answered Smoke.
"That's good. I hope you're not one of those Smoke followers who picked the DarkElf race just because he's a DarkElf," explained Malheur. "Don't get me wrong. I personally have nothing against Smoke. It's just those radical followers of his."
"Really? Are there really a lot of DarkElves just because of Smoke?" he asked, astounded.
"Well, yeah. Most of them are in Vitzytl and Vizzu Kingdom," answered the HighElf. "Are you originally from here? From Chayotl Kingdom?"
"Um. Yeah, I'm actually from... Centza City." Smoke took a long time to answer as he tried to get his story straight.
"The Climatic City," added Malheur. "I've heard about that place. They say it's quite nice. Never been there, though."
Smoke politely nodded and smiled. Just then he realized that no one could see him smiling because of his mask.
Yet, his body gesture somehow conveyed it anyway as Malheur was smiling back at him.
"I'm just here because gaining my Continental Teleportation ability required me to be off the Sawtorn Continent," explained Malheur. "Can you believe such a quest? And to make matters worst, I suddenly got stuck here for a week as no ships were headed back to Vitzytl."
"Not until Sir Malheur met me of course," interjected Venal.
"Yes, yes. So, where is this famous ship, Naufrage?" heatedly asked Malheur. "Whose Captain is said to be a former Commander of the Ladrones del Mundo?"
"Captain Rongeur Malodorante is a famous Sailor, Sir. Please do not question his experience. Less you be willing to cross swords with him," respectfully stated Venal.
Malheur guffed. "Fine, fine. So, where is Captain Rongeur?"
"They were anchored at the docks half an hour ago," confidently said Venal. "Come, I'll introduce you to him."
Havre's docks were lined with ships. He counted at least twenty on one dock, and there were six docks in total.
Smoke saw Brigantines, a two-masted vessel with square-rigged on the foremast and fore-and-aft rigged on the main. Frigates, a large three-masted square rigger. He surmised it could hold at least two-hundred men on it.
Then, there were the slightly smaller vessels such as the Schooner. However, there were also the larger ones like the Brig. It was a bigger variant of the Brigantine, but designed to be faster and more maneuverable.
"So, which one is the Naufrage?" asked Smoke excitedly, as he searched for the name on the boats.
"It's still a few docks away," replied Venal and pointed farther ahead. "Aside from having a fearsome Captain, its crew is equally famous as well."
"Here we go again," groaned Malheur.
Venal ignored him and continued. "For the benefit of those who do not know, its first mate is the man called Mersinge. He swims so fast people say he has Merfolk in his bloodline. Then, there is also the cook, Chef Moche. His cooking is so delicious it is a wonder why he left the royal kitchens of Centeo City."
"Could you stop rambling on, and get us on board the ship already?" asked an agitated HighElf.
Venal raised his eyebrow at Malheur, and spoke fast. "And there's also other famous crew members such as Oursin, Mouette, and Escroc."
Smoke smiled at Venal, intrigued at the crew members who were taking him to Vitzytl. "They sound really impressive," he politely said to the Bowman.
When they finally reached the fifth dock, Venal turned and headed farther into it. They were greeted with Brigantines and Brigs which were docked along the way.
"Gentlemen, welcome to your ship," said Venal and pointed to a Schooner.
'I would have preferred a Brig or a Frigate, but maybe this would be much faster,' thought a pleased Smoke.
Smoke eagerly headed for the stairs of the ship. He guessed its length to be at thirty meters.
"Elementalist Faux, Elementalist Faux," called out Venal. "Hey, Faux!" shouted the Bowman when Smoke never answered to his made up name.
"What?" asked a surprised Smoke.
"That is, not the Naufrage," said Venal patiently.
"Oh, but I thought you were pointing to this one," apologized Smoke and joined the Bowman and the High Wizard.
"This is the Naufrage," proudly said Venal and pointed to a Junk ship. It had two masts with square sails, which were made from bamboo. Its length was half of the Schooner Smoke was just on.
"Oi, hello, Venal," said a burly overweight man with a Captain's hat on. "Do you perhaps have some special cargo for me to carry?"
"Aye, Captain Rongeur," eagerly replied Venal and ran up the Junk boat's ladder. The two dubious men discussed in whispers.
Smoke scrupulously observed the exchange between the two of them. He noticed Venal hand Rongeur one of his jewel and a bag of zecs.
After the two of them were done with their transaction, Rongeur turned to Smoke and Malheur. "Welcome aboard the Naufrage!" boomed the Captain of the Junk ship.
Smoke and Malheur joined Venal and Rongeur on board the boat.
"Can this thing really get us to Vitzytl?" questioned Malheur. "It doesn't even look like it will float for the next couple of hours."
The HighElf then turned to Venal. "You're a liar. You promised us a ship worthy of sailing all fourteen seas of Zectas, and you brought us to some shipwreck!"
"Hahaha," Rongeur sarcastically laughed. "You're a kidder aren't cha. Contrary to belief, Junk ships are capable of operating in any seas, and the Naufrage... well let us just say that she is a very sea-worthy vessel!"
The HighElf shrugged his shoulders. "Whatever you say, but can we depart already?"
"Hold your horses, your majesty," sourly answered the Captain. "My crew ain't done loading our other cargos."
As Malheur and Rongeur were about to have a scuffle, Venal sneakily headed for the ladder.
"Well, now that the two of you are on board your ships, I'll take my leave," hurriedly said Venal, and scuttled off the ship.
"Wait a minute, Venal!" shouted Malheur.
"I have plenty of other friends that are headed this way with the same quest as myself," began the HighElf. "And after what you've delivered, I'll make sure that none of them will come to you for your services."
"Not a problem, Sir Malheur, but please feel free to recommend me to them when you do get back to Sawtorn," confidently replied Venal. "I think you will change your mind then."
After the Bowman left, Smoke turned to Rongeur. "Hi, my name is Faux," he said politely and offered his hand.
The Junk ship Captain briefly shook it.
"So, what are your crew loading?" curiously asked Smoke.
"Bananas," passively answered Rongeur. "Normally, we wouldn't even bother with them, but the price for them on Vona City have more than tripled."
Smoke thought about bringing other items he could trade at a higher price in Sawtorn, but his attention was drawn towards the city they were headed to.
"Vona City? Can you tell me something about it?" inquired Smoke.
Malheur rudely interjected. "There's nothing much to tell. Only that it's the poorest in Vitzytl Kingdom."
Suddenly, Rongeur drew out a dirk and aimed at the High Wizard. However, a gust of wind quickly knocked back the heavyset Captain.
"Don't you dare look down on Vona," angrily shouted Rongeur lying on the deck. "I have half a mind to return your zecs, and kick you off my ship!" he threatened Malheur.
Yet, the HighElf merely chuckled. "But you won't. I can tell from your appearance that you've fallen on hard times. Even if you were once a member of the notorious Ladrones del Mundo, you are clearly a shell of your former self."
Rongeur looked stunned. From the Captain's expression, Smoke surmised it to be true.
"I bet you would even grovel if I offered you money!" added Malheur.
"That's enough," said Smoke calmly as he tried to diffuse the tension on deck.
"Don't you but into this, Faux. I don't have anything against you, but I swear if you get on my nerves, you'll never see Sawtorn," menacingly stated Malheur.
Smoke gritted his teeth as he did his best not to attack the haughty HighElf. Disguised as Faux, the Earth Elementalist, he was restricted to use his Earth Manipulation ability. Otherwise, he would risk the chance of exposing himself as a fraud.
"I don't know how powerful you are on land, but on this ship. Water and Wind are King!" flatly added Malheur.
"Now, show me my chambers cabin boy," said the HighElf to Rongeur. "And I'll rest there until we depart."
Rongeur unwillingly got up and led the way.
Igniz glowed brightly from within his hidden chamber, angered by Malheur.
"Calm down, Bud. This isn't the time or place," said Smoke, and covered the metallic orb on his chest with his hand.
A few minutes later, five Zectians arrived. Three of them carried crates of bananas from the cart they pulled along. They had enlarged bodies and well built muscles to match, but what caught Smoke's attention was that one of them was an OrkElf.
"Hello, my name is Smo—" he quickly stopped himself as he almost gave out his real name to the OrkElf. "Faux."
"Oh, we have a passenger this time," said the OrkElf. He had brownish green skin, much like Sharur's.
"The name's Oursin."
Still carrying the heavy crates, Oursin motioned Smoke to step aside with his head.
"Oops, sorry about that," apologized Smoke and gave way.
The next one to climb aboard was a tiger Lioumerean. He eyed Smoke from head to toe, and did not say a word.
After him was a muscular bald man in his late thirties, he reminded him of Forte, one of the guards in the village of Sans Valeur.
Then, a beautiful golden-haired HighElf got on board. "Hello, my name is Mouette. I'm Naufrage's Navigator."
She looked to be in her early thirties.
"Nice to meet you. My name is Faux," replied Smoke.
"Oh, and this is the best cook in all the fourteen seas," said Mouette as she pointed to the person who came up after her.
He was a one-legged old man with a wooden peg for an artificial leg.
"Chef Moche," finished Mouette.
"Ah! A new dinner guest," said Moche happily. He offered Smoke his hand. "Nice to meet you, Faux."
"A pleasure to meet you as well," replied Smoke.
"And that bald man looking at you is the first mate, Mersinge," explained Moche. "Don't worry, he doesn't bite. Well, if he isn't hungry at least."
"And what about you?" Smoke asked the tiger Lioumerean. "What's your name?"
"The ride to Sawtorn only lasts two weeks," said the Lioumerean. "You don't need my name for that."
"He is Escroc," answered Mouette. "Sorry about that. Our crew doesn't easily open up to anyone."
"Then, you better stay far away from—" began Smoke, but stopped when Malheur and Rongeur appeared.
The Captain of the Naufrage greeted his members with a big smile. "I see you've met one of our guests," he began. "And this other one is Malheur."
The HighElf did not bother to reply, nor did he look at them.
"So, your crew and cargo are all here. Let's set sail already," commanded Malheur.
"Hey! You cannot order us around," interjected Mouette angrily.
"Sir Malheur has offered to pay us another three million zecs to set sail today," explained Rongeur. "I told him I'd ask all of you first before we accept his generous offer."