... And with that, I bid the fellow goodbye, letting him resume his swim across the ocean. I certainly wish him luck with that lion hunting business. Such a wrestler, who could pin even me, is a hero worthy of every respect!

In any case, after I’d watched him vanish over the horizon, I had my men resume our journey, which we continued for some days and nights without serious obstacles. Although it pained me, I avoided the large green isle to the east, which my guest had warned me of in dire terms. Had he been a lesser man I might have scoffed, but as it is, I saw the wisdom in avoiding the “Emerald Isle”—for now at least.

Leaving it behind, we found a narrow sea splitting the land, and as we began to sail inward, my ship found its way blocked by an immense chain of gleaming gold which stretched from shore to shore and a small armada of ships docked at the sprawling settlements on either side. These ships were of quality make and crafted in a more normal style than the stone barges of Khem. Each ship was plated in metal, from silver, copper, and iron to more exotic types that I did not recognize.

My men and I halted the ship and raised a flag of peace, standing in the open with no weapons, and eventually, a ship, clad in silver with sigils of the moon upon its sail, came forward to a hailing distance. The sight of the sailors shocked me for they looked like no other humans which I had ever seen. The men of Khem were swarthy in their features, and some men of Khusan were darker still, but these fellows had flesh the color of dark umber.

Like the men of Khem, their garb was light, likely on account of the hot environment of their lands. Yet what clothing they had was finely crafted cloth and immaculately cut hides. Their jewelry though! I had thought the men of Khem brightly adorned with their dyes and their bangles. Even the meanest warrior practically dripped with precious metals, not only hanging from their bodies but embedded in their flesh.

The man who came forward to speak with me was garbed in a rich robe of silver and onyx patterned with markings similar to some symbolic representations of the phases of the moon and wore a headwrap of deep blue-black cloth. He spoke first in a tongue I did not recognize, and then in the language which I recognized as Pyrhosian, the tongue of the Bronze Men from my time with my guest. I had not had an opportunity to learn it yet though, so I was made to wait until he cycled through to Khemish.

It was obvious, of course, what they wanted. In the pause he left for my response, I explained my business as an explorer and trader, seeking exotic goods and sights. He explained to me that this was the kingdom of Banu, and all who sought to walk their lands must submit to inspection at one of the chain anchor towns before being allowed into the interior. I agreed without pause, which seemed to put the man and his warriors at ease.

Later, I was given to understand that the shade of our hair somewhat resembles that of the Emerald Isle men, and that those of their kind who leave their land are near uniformly terrible criminals who have been exiled because they could not easily be slain. Fortunately, I am merely a miscreant and not a savage!

With the initial confrontation out of the way, I followed the fellow and the pair of smaller copper plated craft which escorted him toward the “gate city” on the western coast. Docking, I found the people of Banu much more staid than the passionate folk of Khem. The mortals and low cultivators which worked the docks regarded my foreign ship and countenance only with brief interest before returning to their labors.

My guide, seeming much more at ease within the sea walls of his city, explained to me the methods by which I would be inspected. Although the exact terms were different, I found myself staring in horror upon the great beast bureaucracy, whose terrible heads it seemed sprouted across the world.

You may laugh at me now.

Jesting aside, it was not a complex matter. I was to dictate my crew and cargo and allow an inspector on board to check the veracity of my claims. It was explained to me that I could occupy a tradeshouse for up to one week, after which I would be required to pay in goods or receive a sponsor among the city’s landowners.

Naturally, a charismatic fellow such as myself had no difficulty. Leaving my first mate to conduct the duller side of business, I soon found a patron. The prince of the city in fact! He was most interested in my tales from the south where only a few brave merchants dared to sail.

In his palace, I made an interesting discovery. Upon a tiled mural in one of his halls, I ran across a depiction of a great battle occurring out in the bay. Two great ships carrying countless foes assailed the region which would hold these gate cities, which did not have their chain. A mighty warrior shrouded in lightning, and standing astride what I may only describe as a seven-headed dragon, was shown casting down the foes’ leader into the sea. What drew my attention was the sigil upon the enemy’s sails.

It was the sigil of the Jing, who sailed away in their city ships long ago. It seemed perhaps that I might have discovered some part of their fate. Asking my host about it, he indicated that the figure was the first King of Banu, the mighty Mwinde. The mural depicted his final major battle, driving off “the sea people” who attempted to colonize their shores. Histories state that the two island ships were driven north into the lands of savages and frost demons and were not seen again.

I wonder though, the Jing left with three ships, did they not? I took some further notes on the matter, dear Bond Sister; I am sure you will find the mystery more interesting. I was more interested in my host and his people.

Their method of rule is much simpler than the theocratic rule of Khem. Banu is composed of a number of provinces and cities and ruled by a king. Each city and province is ruled by a lesser member of the line of Mwinde. Strangely, only the line of Mwinde is recognized as important. All other positions in society are not given automatically based upon blood. Beneath the Princes lie the Smith-Priests and Celestial Shamans, and beneath them, the lesser craftsmen and warriors with the common folk supporting it all.

Not so different from a typical province of the Empire, although all major posts belonging to one family was strange. I carefully inquired of this, and my host laughed and gestured to his guard, who, without hesitation, swung his warblade and beheaded the Prince!

I was aghast, of course, yet a moment later, the prince’s crumpled body, wholly lifeless to all of my senses, twitched and convulsed briefly before standing back up, placing his head back on his shoulders as if it were only a misplaced vase. The line of Mwinde ruled because they were immune to all death save that which came with time.

It was said as a young man, Mwinde had descended to the underworld to chase after the shade of his cruel father, and there, he had won three contests against the god of death, though the god cheated every time. With the final attempt at a cheat, Mwinde was so incensed that he slew the god, who was so impressed by him that he offered Mwinde his daughter’s hand in marriage. Such was the genesis of the line of Mwinde.

Later, having avenged himself on his father’s shade and married his new wife, the King came to face the beast Kirimu, the dragon shown in the mural, who was a child of the sun. Their battle wrought ruin, but Mwinde was deathless and with a wave of his “swatter”—I was confused by this, but his weapon of choice seemed to be some kind of feather fan—he could raise his own warriors and command the fires of earth.

Yet Kirimu was wholly invincible, and no weapon or force could pierce his hide, or even the softest of his internals. Eventually, after a month’s fruitless battle, the two came to an accord. Mwinde would see Kirimu’s appetite always fed, and in return, Kirimu would teach him the secrets of the sky fire and grant his warriors leave to make use of his shed scales.

Quite a legend, eh? Yet there must have at least some truth to it, as the source of their cultivation is thus. They divide cultivation into two exclusive paths, terrestrial and celestial. Both are done by “forging” the body with appropriate metals depending on the individual’s path. Only the line of Mwinde may reach the highest point where the two paths become one, and their bodies are forged wholly anew with the metal which I can only call adamant.

Later the prince invited me to strike an ancestral shield made of the stuff, which was harvested from the sleeping dragon and shaped through certain secret arts held by the royal family. I struck, and though every window in the hall shattered under the force of my blow, it absorbed the full force without damage, dampening even the tremors that should have emanated through the ground.

It was to my senses as if an absolute void sat upon an ornate stand. I can only compare it to certain artifacts woven from our Great Ancestor’s hairs in its potency.

Unfortunately the damage from my punch soured my stay a tad, and I was back on my ship the next day, having exchanged some of my goods for the lesser, pale blue form of adamant which was allowed to leave the country. I shall sail a little further north I think and take a look at these “ice demons,” but then I think it will be time to head back. I will see you soon, Bond Sister.

Excerpt from the letters of Zheng Lu, King of Explorers