Chapter 525: Book 8-16.1: Odd Happenings

Legate Jiro Segawa leaned back against his command chair. The fleet had been stationary for the last hour while they waited for something to happen. The Solamnus Court wasn’t usually hostile, but this act of ripping them away from besieging a fortified Waypoint on the path to Rumiga was certainly an act of war. Only the fact that they hadn’t done anything else made this a bit less annoying.

Another hour of preparing his troops to fight, and still nothing…ah. A creature came out of the Garden of All Season. A mewling thing, tiny and looking helpless. But their wariness didn’t wane. Chaos Lords and their creatures were deadlier than they seemed.

Whatever that thing was, it stopped well short of the Green Swan. Then, it spoke, and its voice was heard by everyone in the fleet.

“Greetings, warriors of the Eternal Empire of the Righteous Order. We apologise for bringing you abruptly towards our domain. We seek to parley with your leaders.”

Jiro exchanged glances with Maruko, who shrugged.

“Either accept it or kill our way out,” she said softly.

“A good idea.” He sighed. Jiro expanded his Domain and encompassed the creature with it before replying, “If your master wishes to speak, come out here and do so.”

“Of course, Domain Lord,” the creature replied. “Allow us to withdraw.”

“Granted.”

Jiro tapped his fingers on the armrest while waiting for the envoy to return to the Garden. No more than five minutes later, a parade came out. Stone…marble flagstones materialised under their feet, and at the lead was the current Ruler of the Court. The Architect of Season’s End. A Chaos Marquis, or rather, Marchioness in their current form. They shifted from one gender to the next, young then old, at the march of Seasons. The Architect’s current form was a slender young swordswoman. An elegant silver rapier hung at their waist, and their clothes were full of lace and ruffles. As for the rest of the court, Jiro ignored them after a disdainful look

“I am here,” the Architect intoned.

Jiro nodded, then gestured to Maruko, who then opened the airlock and hatch. Jiro slipped out of the Green Swan and hovered in front of the fleet. He alone could match the Chaos Marchioness, so there was no need to expose anyone else.

“Legate Jiro Segawa. We meet again,” the Architect intoned, voice measured and formal.

“The Architect of Season’s End. I cannot say it is a pleasure.”

“Oh, but after we talk, I expect you to shower us with gifts.” The Architect smiled slyly. “After all, we are aiding you and your plane.”

“In what sense?”

“Do you not know,” Their tone was measured, teasing, “that the Telurian and the Asheron are lying on the same bed?”

Jiro’s eyebrows twitched but he didn’t comment. He assumed as much, or perhaps the Federation and the Northern Barbarians had joined hands, too.

“The Fortified Waypoint was but a distraction. Even if you enter the plane, as you are now, you cannot change the course of Fate.”

“And what are you proposing?”

The Architect’s grin widened, “Salvation.”

_________

Heron Synka Muryh almost didn’t notice it when someone bumped into him while he walked next to Asami Lawson Devi. The boy knocked into his left side, bounced away, and then landed on his behind.

Blinking in surprise and confusion, Heron bent over and extended a hand, but the kid scrambled backwards, staring up at him in fear.

“Sorry,” Heron mumbled, though he was careful to speak in Wojan rather than Verdanian.

The boy just shook his head and ran away. Tried to, anyway.

Asami pounced and grabbed the kid’s arm, then forcibly twisted his hand until he was forced to open his fist. A rather familiar-looking coin pouch was on it. Heron’s.

Clicking his tongue, Heron simply grabbed the pouch and waved the kid off. Asami arched an eyebrow at him, then shrugged as she released the kid. He scrambled away and faded into the crowd.

“That was your decoy pouch?” Asami asked.

“Yes,” Heron snorted, “But there’s still ten Shekels in it.”

“Coins saved.” Asami shrugged.

Heron just grunted in agreement, then continued on their way. Today, he and Asami were headed towards the city’s recruiting stations and hopefully to get a glimpse of where they send their people to train. The city was too crowded for a proper drilling area, so he figured that the training camps were out in the countryside. Not that he intended to leave the city just yet.

The western district was rather crowded, and even more so when they got close to the river wall. He wasn’t surprised that his pouch got lifted, since he stood out too much in the crowd. Well, so did Asami, but since he was taller than her by a head, he attracted the stares. It didn’t help that the crowd’s average height was more in line with the Foster twins too.

He would have preferred pairing up with Yuriko on this discovery trip, but then again, most of the people in the group wanted to be with her, with the possible exception of Sheamus Dorn. The older man acted as though he were Yuriko’s old family attendant as he quietly supported her endeavours. He knew for a fact that he only knew her for less than a year though. She saved his life, which was the source of their bond. At least, that’s what Sheamus often said.

Shaking his musings out, he kept a wary eye out for more pickpockets, though that kid had been exceptionally clumsy. Although more people bumped against him, he barely felt it.

He marvelled at the Body Forging technique Yuriko had given him, and he could hardly wait to go through that Chaos baptism that would allow him to walk the same path. Even with what he had now, he had grown three or four times stronger than before. Tougher, too.

He was still no match when they sparred, but at least he could take her strikes head-on now. Before, he would have been blown away if he dared block a punch. Now, he would only be bruised.

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Hmm, only on a simple exchange though. Yuriko was far too agile, while he had only grown in strength and toughness. Then again, she was already a Knight while he remained at Journeyman, so there was that.

“You’re thinking about her again, aren’t you?” Asami’s wind whisper technique conveyed her voice straight to his ears even though there were at least a dozen inches of distance between them.

“Hmmm. Ah, yeah,” he freely admitted.

“She’s the prince’s fiance.”

“I know.”

“How daring,” Asami’s voice was rather amused.

“I loved her first,” he admitted. But he sighed immediately afterwards and wished he hadn’t said anything. That didn’t matter at all.

Asami’s full-throated chuckle gave her answer to his ludicrous assertion. He felt his face redden in embarrassment but shook it off after a minute. He focused on what he had to do now.

Every one of them had a task to do, though the most important point was to avoid being captured. Not that it wasn’t a primary consideration at all. They had been briefed, without Yuriko, of the importance of keeping her safe and free. By the Knights’ Council first, and by Prince Finan later. They were told…to sacrifice themselves if it meant ensuring her safety.

Heron would have gladly done that, no need for any orders. But…he’d rather live to be with her, too. He knew most of the others accepted the order, but he noticed that Gwendith had only frowned. He wondered why, as the Sharines, according to Devi, were one of the most loyal families towards the Empress. An order by the Empress’ son, a Pia’Vasi, should have been close to inviolable law.

Strange musings that have to be put aside again. He and Asami finally arrived at the recruitment area, located in a small square near the docks. In fact, it was exactly one block away from the western gate and anyone heading out to the slums and to the river docks from the city would have to pass through here.

“...don’t be fresh meat, volunteer for the army! Got the brains to be an officer? Or you’ve managed to bind a spirit without telling anyone? All is forgiven and you earn all sorts of rewards for you and your family!” A man was barking up a recruitment pitch while standing atop a podium. He was dressed impeccably in the Federation-style dress uniform, which was a blue short coat with golden trim, brown trousers and polished black boots.

Most of the commoners passing through the square gave the officer a frightened look, and had the feeling that they wanted to scurry away, but were afraid to draw attention.

“You there!” The man pointed directly at Heron. “You’re a big one! Join up now and get a gold bonus for signing up! Come here, kid!” He gestured enthusiastically.

Heron shook his head but didn’t dare to disobey. He walked carefully closer and the man repeated his spiel, concluding with, “You’d better sign up now before you get conscripted. Better life as an officer than a frontline warrior!”

“I can’t,” Heron shook his head, “not yet anyway.”

“Haha, you’ll have little choice lad. All kids your age must report for conscription in two days. Better off volunteering to be an officer.” His voice lowered, “You’re a strapping young lad and you look like you’ve got lots of talent, if you don’t go into officer training, you'll definitely be pushed into the infantry upon conscription. You’ll have less chances there.”

“I can’t make this decision now,” Heron demurred. “I’ll talk to my parents first.”

“Well, up to you kid. Heh, don’t say I didn’t warn you. What about you, lass? Wanna join up?”

Asami shook her head too and the man shrugged and wave them away.

And so, Heron and Asami retreated back towards the Solemn Flower House bearing disturbing news, only to find out that a riot and a lockdown were suddenly in effect.

___________

“One fifty for this pile of carrots?” Braden gasped as he stared at the weighing scale. An entire gold coin and a large silver. The carrots were less than three Jin in weight, meaning each Jin was fifty Shekels. The amount Sheamus bought from that farmstead was nearly triple the weight but for the same price.

A bitter feeling rose up from his guts. He’d teased the older man about his profligate waste of coins but here he was, unable to do better. But then again, they were in the city where the cost of food had soared. In short, it wasn’t really his incompetence in haggling but rather a real supply and demand problem.

Still, they needed to buy their own food to cook instead of spending coins to buy ready-made food. He only had to look at Yuriko’s expression of disdain when they ate ration bars, to spur him in looking for fresh. Not that he didn’t hate the taste of ration bars either. Oh, the replacement was Wayfarer’s bread now. However, that only made his…their…task of acquiring suitable supplies of meat and vegetables more urgent.

“Just pay for it,” Orrin sighed.

“Aye.”

Having exchanged the coins for three Jin of carrots, he went to the next stall to buy leafy greens for tonight’s dinner, and for tomorrow, too. There were dozens of customers in the wet market, but nowhere near capacity. There was also an air of anxiety prevalent with both buyers and sellers. The woman he bought the carrots from was more than eager to sell but was stubborn about the price. And he didn’t want to waste too much time haggling, especially when everyone else offered only a token effort before settling the deals.

He managed to grab another Jin worth of cutlets, which would just be enough for a meal for all nine of them. He noticed that Yuriko’s appetite wasn’t as much as before, but Heron and Gwendith were practically inhaling their food before asking for seconds, thirds, and fourths.

“I should probably buy more,” He muttered. They had enough coin to live frugally for more than a year, and he doubted the mission would last that long, however, with how the prices were now…

As they exited the marketplace and made their way back to the inn, Orrin had a disturbed expression on his face.

“What?”

“I overheard something,” Orrin grunted. “It's…well, there have been disappearances in the city.”

“Oh?”

“Many disappearances. Not just here, but also in the slums. Dwellings that have suddenly become empty, whole families gone. Travellers never reach their destinations,” he said pointedly.

“Oh.” Braden shrugged. They may be targeted, he realised, but anyone who did would regret it to their dying day.

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