《The Magic of Logistics》18 - Ramping Up
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My encounter with Pamasteron left me in a foul mood. After leaving the temple, I did not feel like going back to the workshop or the apartment. I walked in silence towards the ocean, lost in my thoughts. The harbour occupied most of the shore with its quays and hangars, but I found a quiet place to the side, not far from the wall, where a bunch of rocks separated the land from the sea. I sat on one of them, my knees between my arms, the wind blowing against my face.
It had been a while since I had felt such hopelessness. I had busied myself with the new company and my studies and I had almost forgotten to take stock of where I was. Still so far from home, barely closer to finding a way back. I knew, on an intellectual level, that it would take me years, maybe decades. This was not news. Yet I had somehow allowed myself to forget it, to let myself enjoy the sweetness of progress and pleasant company. It was almost as if I had built a ship so that I would not drown in my sorrow and talking with the God had capsized it.
I focused on my breathing. Smelled the salt in the air, listened to the cries of the seagulls and the city behind.
I was already aware of the situation. I could not let it disturb me. I had set a good pace and I needed to keep it, to increase it even. And I had learned something today. That even the God, after having searched for an answer, did not know how I had come to this world. Either something from outside the world or a very well-kept secret, he had said. I had to exclude the first option, simply because there was nothing I could do about it should it be the truth. But a secret, that I could figure out. Surely there was a reason for it. Whomever had brought me here had to be looking for me, if they weren’t already monitoring my life. A person or a group powerful enough that they could evade the scrutiny of the Gods. Maybe it was another God. I knew too little about their rules and how they enforced them to dismiss that option entirely. In any case, a secret was something that I could uncover. I had no idea where to start though, so Aether magic was still my first priority. But I would keep an eye out. If someone had indeed managed to bring me here voluntarily, then they had to know how to send me back.
The next few days passed in a blur. I threw myself into practise, mostly trying to repeat the short teleportation I managed when I reached level 10 in Aether magic. I sat on the ground in the workshop, my back against my desk, and, my eyes closed and my mind navigating the Aether, I tried to project myself a few feet away. I struggled a lot with the depressing feel of the Aether in the workshop. It made every effort a little bit harder, a little more draining on my mind. But I persisted. If motivation came and went like waves on a beach, my discussion with Pamasteron had put me on top of a tsunami. By the end, I managed to teleport a few feet around myself more than half of the time, even through a wall, though it took everything out of me and forced me to rest for at least an hour afterwards.
It was progress though, and I got to hear my wife’s voice again.
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*You have reached the level 12 of the Class Aether Mage.*
It was during those days that Bordeaux Logistics made its first sale. I had very little to do with it. Flyssa came to the workshop one morning wearing a great smile that exposed her teeth.
“Luc!” she yelled, barging in my storage room. “We have a meeting! A Captain came to me, asking about our services!”
I opened my eyes. I was sitting on the ground in what had become my usual Aether training position, cross-legged, my back against the desk and facing the narrow path amidst Faros’ rejected projects. The hardness of the floor made it uncomfortable, but the first and last time I had tried teleporting while standing, I ended up falling face-first into a pile of wooden things. So the floor it was. I was planning on buying at least two cushions very soon.
“That’s great, Flyssa!” I said, rising to my feet. “Who is it?”
“Spaly. She’s a young Schalass Captain. We have friends in common and she reached out to me. She wanted me to bring a few of our products to her ship to demonstrate. Would it be possible for you to come with me? Is it too dangerous? I can present our sheets and sleeves, but if she has specific questions you would be more able to answer them. What do you think?”
I could not keep myself from smiling. Flyssa had been vehement in her desire to expand what the company sold, yet once Faros and I had explained to her the risks involved, she had instantly started taking them into account. Her concern touched me. I had expected her to grow frustrated, to keep trying to convince me to make bags of holdings to sell. She had proven me wrong. This meeting that she was proposing was certainly a risk. Going out was a risk at this point. But I felt I owed her at least that much. I could not isolate myself in this storage room forever. Besides, it would be interesting to talk with another Captain, get her opinion on some things.
“I think it’s fine, Flyssa,” I said. “I’ll come with you to see this Spaly. Thank you for asking.”
We did not tarry and set out immediately. Spaly’s ship was near the western extremity of the harbour. It seemed to be shorter but wider than Louprak’s. To be honest, it looked like it was carrying a baby ship inside of its hold. I could not imagine that such a ship navigated the seas with great speed, though it could likely carry more cargo. It was high on the water at present.
As we approached, Flyssa hailed a Human sailor on the deck. He disappeared for a moment, then a small Schalass came out to meet us. She must have barely reached 1m50, which was minuscule for a Schalass. Her scales had a reddish hue, highlighted by the light grey of her loose shirt. She walked down the plank barefoot to meet us.
“Oy, Flyssa! That was quick!”
“Spaly. May I introduce my associate, Luc?”
“Nice to meet ya.” She shook my hand with a strong grip. “So this is it then?” she said, eyeing the bag I was carrying on my shoulder.
“It is,” I said. “You wanted a demonstration?”
“Right, yeah. Not sure I understood what you guys do, but if you can help me load cheaper than those fucking thieves, I’ll be glad of it.”
“Do you have some cargo inside?” asked Flyssa. “We would prefer not showing everything in the open.”
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“Sure thing. Thieves and spies too, eh? Come on up!”
Flyssa and I shared an amused glance before following the Captain.
We gathered in the main hold along with a few sailors. There were only two barrels there.
“That’s my own merchandise,” Spaly explained. “I don’t own this ship or what I’m transporting. I’m just paid to sail, y’know. But I try to make a few deals of my own. Get some money and levels. And the loading fees are taken out of my pay, which is fucking bird crap, but there you go. So if you’re cheaper and I can still make my time, I’ll praise your name to Mighty Crokos.”
“I believe you will be satisfied,” said Flyssa with a confident tone.
I laid down my bag on the deck and got a barrel sleeve out of it. They had been delivered just the day before and we had been able to test them on an empty barrel Faros had gotten from a friend. I had brought only two sizes but it would do for the demonstration.
I had expected the oohs and aahs when I put the sleeve onto the barrel and it instantly shrank, but hearing the astonishment of the sailors was still extremely satisfying. I never ceased to be amazed by Aether magic, even though I had grown accustomed to it. The fantastical aspects of this world were one of the things I would miss if, no, when I got home.
The rest of the demonstration went well. I showed them the straps for the barrels to avoid having to roll them and the bags for their other containers. Obviously one sailor wanted to try putting the sleeve on, so then everybody else had to try also. Meanwhile Flyssa and Spaly were discussing prices. From the look on both of their faces, an agreement would soon be reached. Flyssa and I had debated at length about prices and margins. I initially argued for low prices to have an easier time of entering the market, but she had made a very good point: we had no idea how long we would last. We didn’t know if the powers that be were going to start offering their own Aether products or if the pressure, be it physical or political, would force to shut down at some point. Might as well start making good profits now.
Spaly insisted on sharing a drink in her cabin to celebrate our new partnership. She talked a lot about new friendships. I think she was just really happy to save about a third of what she would have paid with the Dockworkers’ Guild and we gladly stayed a bit. The drink had an almost sugary smell to it and she filled the cups she served us. I took a sip at first. It was tasty, like a fruit cocktail. I took a bigger swallow. Then the first one hit my throat with an after-effect that I had never experienced and my eyes started to water. It was like drinking home-made moonshine from your uncle’s friend, but without the pungent smell. It was highly treacherous, that’s what it was. I tried to hide my discomfort, but Spaly saw right through it.
“First time drinking tokagasy, eh?” she asked, hitting her desk between fits of laughter.
“Ugh,” I groaned. “What is this stuff?”
“The finest Schalass drink there is!”
“It’s a common drink from Schalass communities inland,” added Flyssa. I could see her trying to restrain a smile.
“You could have warned me,” I said, laughing. “Shit! Why does the alcohol hit so late?”
“Secret ingredient!” yelled Spaly. She was rubbing around her eyes to remove the tears my suffering had provoked.
I looked at Flyssa. She shook her head.
“I don’t think you want to know,” she said.
I stared at the greyish liquid in my cup as if I could discover its mysteries.
“Maybe I don’t.” I shrugged and took another swig. Smaller this time. “At least it’s pretty good.”
We returned to the workshop after assuring Spaly that we would bring the sleeves and the sheets in two days, when she expected her cargo to be delivered to her ship. Flyssa and I could not keep the smile from our faces. It felt like a weight had been lifted. This was our first sale, proof that we had not worked in vain. I could finally begin registering sales into the accounts of Bordeaux Logistics.
We were walking along the pier, already discussing the future, our meeting with the Bouroks planned for the morrow, when we heard a loud bang not far from us. I stood dumbfounded. Was that a gunshot? My mind blanked.
“Luc! Luc, come on!” I realized that Flyssa was pulling me by the arm and had been yelling at me.
“What?”
“Come on! We have to go!”
I let her lead me away from the noise into a side street. The noise behind us ramped up. I heard screams and explosions. We ran while my mind slowly started working again.
“What the fuck is happening?!” I yelled, panting.
Flyssa glanced back briefly but she did not stop fleeing.
“Mages fighting! Come on! Let’s get to my Dad’s and hole up there!”
Those were mages? What kind of power did they have for their attacks to produce sounds that loud? Was that why everyone talked about the University with awe?
We were not the only ones running away from the harbour. Houses and shops were closing down, people knocking at some doors, begging to be let in. It was chaos. I felt like I was living a war scene in a movie. But this was real. It had come out of nowhere. In the months I had been living here, I had never even heard of something like this happening.
It took us maybe ten minutes to reach Faros’ workshop. He was outside, holding his door open with an arm. He kept looking up and down the streets. He yelled when he saw us.
“Flyssa! Luc! Come! Quick!”
We dove into the workshop and Faros closed behind us. I collapsed against the floor, breathless, almost ready to pass out. I had never been much of a runner and though the adrenaline had carried me through our flight, it all came crashing down on me. The cold ground on my cheek felt like the only thing in the world. I focused on it and tried to take deep breath as we had been taught in school. I heard Faros leaning over me and asking if I was all right, but I could not manage a verbal answer. I simply nodded with the barest of movement. He gave me a tap on the shoulder and stood up.
It took me a while to gather myself. I sat up and took stock of my surroundings. I could hear nothing from outside. Perhaps the fighting had quieted down, or perhaps the walls were too thick or we were too far from the action. Flyssa was sitting on a chair, drinking from a cup. Faros was hovering over her, talking quietly. He noticed me first and brought me a cup.
“Here you go, Luc,” he said. “Water.”
I had no thought to spare towards sanitary concerns at that moment. I grabbed the cup and poured the water down my throat.
“Easy!”
I held the empty cup to him. “Can I have some more, please?” My throat trouble working properly and the words sounded more like grunts, but he understood.
“Sure.”
I drank the second cup, more slowly this time, before I could trust myself to talk.
“What the hell was that?” I finally said.
“Mages, sounds like,” he answered.
“What kind of Mage can do something like that? It felt like thunder!”
“How should I know? You’re the Mage! But probably an Aeromancer or a Weather Mage, from what Flyssa told me.”
I looked at my associate in her chair. She gave me a small smile.
“Hey, Flyssa. You ok?”
She nodded. “Thank you. How about you?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Maybe I should take up jogging again. That was a violent reminder that I am not in shape.”
“What’s jogging?” asked Faros, giving me a curious look.
“Uhh.. Running around to get your body used to running and not crumble at the slightest exertion. Like I did just now.”
“Interesting idea. Guess it can’t hurt for you scholars, always cooped up and sitting.”
“So, do any of you have an idea of what happened? Why were those Mages throwing spells around in the streets?”
Faros crossed his arms and shook his tail in annoyance.
“This fucking succession!” he exclaimed. “Maybe the Duchess’ health took a turn for the worse. They only start openly fighting once the mother is too frail or lost too much power to do anything about it. It’s not a good sign. I hope she dies quickly so that it doesn’t drag out too much.”
“Dad! Don’t talk like that about the Duchess?”
“What? It’s true,” he said, turning to his daughter. “You weren’t born the last time, when she gained her father’s title. It was a bloodbath. You couldn’t stay in the streets too long for fear of getting embroiled in a spontaneous fight between partisans of the heirs. There were dozens of them. It took weeks for most of them to die or exile themselves.”
“Weeks!” I blurted out. That was a long time to live in fear. And what would happen after that? What kind of leader would the new Duke or Duchess be? Would they start their reign by clamping down on the opposition, real or imagined, or by enforcing new rules on the people of the city to mark their arrival? What would happen to us, Inrak, Faros and Flyssa, Sirmy and Ripsile, Gyggs, the Messengers, the Bouroks? What would it mean for our burgeoning business?
I took a deep breath. There was no need to panic for now. We would be careful, take precautions. Hide for a while, if necessary. Not much had happened yet, and if it did, it would just be another hill to climb. It would not deter me from my goals. Nothing could.
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