Chapter 26 - The Color of Gold

After shaking off the uncomfortable silence that had ensued after Leon’s words, both boys sat by the riverside, quietly talking about their immediate plans.

“Do you think we’ve lost our pursuers?” Leon asked, carefully adjusting the freshly changed bandage on his arm.

It was fortunate that the shoulder bags they had found in the enemy camp were waxed so as to be waterproof, and the contents within had not been tainted by any of the blood while they had hid within the dead beast’s corpse.

The cloaks they had found also seemed to be slightly water resistant, but with all they had been through, Skyle and Leon had taken the time to rinse them in the stream. Although they had a disturbing shade of faded pink to them now, at least they should be marginally cleaner than they had been. Given the warm, pleasant weather brought on by the coming of day, both their clothes and cloaks should be dry soon.

“That pack of hunting beasts should stop or at least delay them for a while. In any case, now that we’ve found a stream it will be easier to hide our tracks as we move along with the stream, then find a good opportunity to slip away,” Skyle answered, readjusting his own bandage with a pleased smile.

The wounds had shown remarkable improvement. Although broken bones couldn’t be expect to heal within a few days, the medicine seemed to be aiding the healing process and speeding it up. Skyle still couldn’t bear to put much weight on his leg, but the swelling had gone down and the edges of his wounds had lost their red, angry hues.

In treating all their wounds, the boys had expended a considerable amount of the precious medicine they had found within the camp. After some careful shuffling around with the liquids, they had ended up with two empty mid-sized bottles, which Skyle thoroughly rinsed, then used to put water in.

“Then let’s follow the stream and see if we can find any food along the way.” Leon eyed the stream beside them as his stomach began to growl loudly.

Skyle smirked, but then his own stomach began to rumble as well.

They had not had any food for the past day, and after their considerable exertions, it was no surprise that they were hungry. In truth, they were famished and the fruits Skyle had managed to pick up on the run were simply not enough to satisfy his needs.

After spending some time hiding the marks of their presence here, Skyle once more climbed on top of Leon’s back, the ritual now a familiar one to both boys. Leon wordlessly stood and shuffled Skyle’s weight once in order to make himself comfortable, then followed the direction indicated by his guide.

They traveled up the small stream, avoiding the softer, wet soil and instead using the rocks washed up by the shore to continue moving upstream. It made for slower progress and some treacherous footing, but it should buy them some time if their pursuers were still after their trail.

Skyle periodically used his True Sight to scan the area around them, using the new method he had learned to push his scanning range to the maximum, which was about one hundred meters. Although both boys’ nerves were on the edge, Leon still maintained a steady stream of commentary on the lifestyle of the northern nobles who made up a great majority of the Free Duchies’ aristocracy.

Skyle listened to it all with mixed emotions. Their spectacular wealth and the way they flaunted it, or outright wasted it, simply disgusted him, but at the same time the outlandish tales from an upper nobleman’s perspective was like seeing another world for the first time. After all, Skyle had never set foot outside the province of Lacrima. One of the northernmost provinces belonging to the Empire of the Sun, Skyle had only heard or read about the other ten provinces.

In truth, Skyle knew more about some of the nearer bordering Free Duchies than some of the more distant provinces, as the Empire’s vast lands spanned nearly half of the inhabited portion of their continent, Iria. A quarter was distributed between the various other powers, including the Free Duchies to the northeast, the barbarian tribes of the north, the wandering desert people of the south, the Linden Republic to the west, and the Conclave Arcana.

The remaining quarter of the continent lay beyond the Great Scar, and no one knew what lay beyond. In truth, no one was even sure as to whether there was anything there at all, except for the fact that every brave explorer or reckless adventurer who had wandered beyond the Great Scar had never been seen or heard of again.

His father seldom mentioned anything about the world outside of their small community in the town of Sunny Meadow, let alone any news concerning the Province of Lacrima. Perhaps from time to time some proclamation from the Imperial City, Solaria might reach Glory Peak, the humble capital of their province, but that was about the extent of his interaction with the world beyond.

That was not to say his education had been neglected. His father had taught him the names and capitals of every province, the crests of every one of the Great Duchies, and even taught him the convoluted system of checks and balances that governed the Linden Republic. However, that was all just page after page of dry data, and like any normal child, Skyle had always been curious about the world beyond the borders of Glory Peak, and beyond the reach of Redemption Keep.

“Ah, da was right. Wealthy folks are all crazy, and it is their riches that fuel their madness,” Skyle tsked loudly, shaking his head. “No wonder he told me to keep my distance from them. ‘The color of gold is not yellow, but the red-eyed madness that is reflected in men’s greedy gaze. Spot a noble, run for the hills. Spot a rich man, clutch your purse. Spot a rich nobleman, just say your last prayers, because your time is done on this green place.’ he would say.”

Leon flinched involuntarily at that, but Skyle seemed not seem to notice.

“Quite, quite. Ahem,” Leon cleared his throat, then continued hurriedly. “So, the recent influx of cheap Republican dyes have precipitated quite the upheaval in the Greater Courts, driving many of the smaller merchant houses and mercantile exchanges to the brink of ruin. In their desperation, they are rumoured to be planning an expedition into the Great Forests, to attempt to open a trading agreement with the fabled Elven Court. Of course, that is the utmost of folly, as any educated individual well knows that the gates of the fair folk have been closed to all outsiders for over a millenia now, and even the latest great expedition ended in an abysmal failure. As a result, rampant speculation has been-”

“Wait, go back. They actually tried to establish contact with the Elven Court?” Skyle quickly interrupted.

Leon scoffed, “Greedy or deluded fools have always tried to reach out to the storied Elven Court, and gotten nothing for it but an arse full of arrows or scorched by all those damn magical barriers they’ve erected. Every five or ten years, yet another great expedition will call for volunteers, and like sheeps to the slaughter countless fools answer with nothing but wool for brains.”

“So no one has ever succeeded in contacting the elves?” Skyle asked again.

“Of course not,” Leon shook his head in derision, then cursed as the motion almost caused him to miss his footing. “Damn slippery stones. Ahem, no, it is impossible to cross the arcane wards the elves have erected across their realms. After hundreds of years of study, our best mages have never proved their match. Even now, there are countless mages who live by the barrier, hoping in vain that they will be able to crack the puzzle and gain instant renown throughout the ages. Vainglorious fools, all of them.”

“Then what about the famous elven bows and arrows? How do they continue to be produced?” Skyle frowned as he recalled the tales of the fantastical artifacts he had heard.

“Bah, nothing but smoke and mirrors. Nine times out of ten, they’re just rumors or tall tales spread by greedy merchants seeking to increase their profits through dishonest means. The tenth one, that one will be a masterwork made by a master at the peak of his craft. Whether by purpose or chance, it may resemble one of the legendary elvish weapons, but in the end it was definitely made a human.”

Here Leon paused for a moment, taking a deep breath as he looked up with a thoughtful gaze to his eye. “Well, perhaps one in every hundred, or even a thousand, will be a true Elvish relic, a priceless artifact that traces its origins back to over a millennia, to the times when elves and humans could still be considered allies.”

“So they do exist,” Skyle breathed, somewhat in relief.

“Most legends do, though they are indeed rarer than a unicorn’s horn,” Leon mused.

“Have you, ah, ever seen one?” Skyle asked hesitantly.

Leon shook his head. “No, I personally haven’t. But then again, I’ve never met any master archers who could afford such extravagant weapons. After all, the price for any sort of Elvish artifact is exorbitant.”

“Define exorbitant,” Skyle urged.

“Hmm. I seem to remember a rather pretty looking Elvish hair pin made of amber being auctioned last year for 20,000 gold coins,” Leon replied, shrugging indifferently.

“What? Was it enchanted with a legendary summoning creature?” Skyle gasped, disbelieving.

“Nah,” Leon scoffed, “it was plain as could be. Rather small too. Collectors will pay an arm and a leg for any elvish artifacts though, no matter how trivial.”

Skyle sighed softly as he tried to wrap his head around the concept of paying 20,000 suns for a simple hair pin.

“Ours is one of the more successful elerium shard farms in the area,” Skyle mumbled numbly to himself. “Still, I have never seen more than a hundred suns together, and that was only three years ago at our largest sale yet, thanks to the spectacular shard harvest we had that year. 20,000 suns, I can’t even begin to imagine what it would look like.”

“Um,” Leon began to look a little uncomfortable, “I suppose that is a lot of money, when you think about it.”

Skyle began to nod his head in agreement, but a thought crossed his head and instead the smaller boy furrowed his brow as he glared suspiciously at his friend.

“Wait, how much did you pay for that focus sword?”

“Eh, well, I don’t really remember. It was a gift, you know? It is not polite to keep track of such things,” Leon mumbled under his breath, suddenly speeding up his pace.

“Well, what would its fair market price be then?” Skyle continued doggedly.

“Ah,” Leon coughed awkwardly, sweat rolling down his face. “Well, depends on the market, really. I’m no merchant, you know?”

“Leon,” Skyle chuckled. “Out with it, I won’t mind.”

“Well, I suppose if you took my focus sword to an auction house and had it appraised by one of their men, they would quote a price somewhere along the high thirties or..”

“Or?”

“.. Or sixties,” Leon finished, then quickly continued. “But those auctioners always inflate prices to increase their commission, so my focus sword should have been bought at half that price.”

“Thirty to sixty thousand suns?”

“Eh, well, see, the exchange rate between our golds and your suns are somewhat fluid, so the concept of value-”

“Sixty thousand gold coins for a single sword? One that is currently out there in the forest, lying discarded on a patch of grass next to the bloody remains of a troll?” Skyle stared at the back of Leon’s head as though to bore holes through it.

Leon laughed awkwardly, then shrugged his shoulders. “Ah, yeah, more or less. You have to remember I’m an earl. My personal elite guard of fifty should receive a wage of about 90 golds per month. That’s over one thou-”

“1080 golds every year,” Skyle gaped at the figure.

“Right. Times fifty, that makes about-” Leon continued.

“54,000 golds per year,” Skyle interrupted again, his voice woodenly, as though he were about to become violently sick.

Both of Leon’s eyebrows climbed up his forehead as he glanced back over his shoulder. “Maybe you should seriously consider becoming an accountant rather than a farmer.”

Skyle ignored him completely as he wrestled with the concept of so much wealth. The sheer enormity of such figures was simply staggering.

“You know, I earned eight silvers by scraping every last copper bit I could scrounge up during the entire year minus the costs of feeding my little siblings’ candied corn addiction,” Skyle mumbled in a tragic tone. “I’m curious how much you get for spending money every week, but I’m afraid to even ask.”

“Not much, really,” Leon quickly responded. “Perhaps a handful of gold, but not much else, as most establishments of good reputation will take credit instead.”

“Credit?” Skyle asked, puzzled.

“Yeah, haven’t you heard of it?” Leon dug through his pockets, then snapped his finger. “Ah, it is in my enchanted pouch. It was also lost during the transfer through the rift. My seal of credit issued by the Fairlight Banking Exchange will be accepted by most stores and businesses across the continent. So, I only carry a handful of coins on my person even when my serv.. Err, when I am unaccompanied by my retinu.. Ahem, friends.”

“And how much is that seal of credit worth?” Skyle asked.

“It’s not a good for exchange. It is more of a promise, like promissory notes. Surely you’ve heard of them?”

Skyle nodded dully, then realized the other boy couldn’t see him. “Yeah, yeah, of course. Promissory notes are issued by the major monetary institutions as a promise to issue gold to the bearer to the figure stated on the note, right?”

“Exactly. Credit works like that, only it goes a step beyond. It basically stands in good faith of the bearer that the financial institution will pay for the incurred services or products, up to a certain amount. All this means I receive a negligible amount of golds.”

Skyle decided to ignore the fact that several golds every week were already more than his family’s whole farm earned in the same time period. “Up to a certain amount, huh?” Skyle cut in.

“Indeed,” Leon began, then hastily tried to redirect the topic. “A very ingenious system, first proposed by the Linden Republic’s major mercantile-”

“Just out of a morbid sense of curiosity,” Skyle murmured, “what’s your own credit?”

“Ahem,” Leon cleared his throat uncomfortably once more. “From time to time I must deal with some of the lesser matters of the House of Draxas, such as issuing payments for minor trade agreements or rewards for meritorious services..”

“Mm-hmm,” As Leon trailed off, Skyle merely made a neutral sound of agreement.

With a deep sigh, Leon continued. “Around two hundred, more or less. I haven’t checked in a long time.”

“The Fairlight Bank will pay two hundred thousand suns on your behalf, anywhere and anytime, no questions asked?” Skyle stammered in shock.

Leon nodded mutely, a flustered look on his face.

“Rich noblemen..” Skyle mumbled softly to himself.

Hearing this, Leon almost tripped.

“So, your family runs an elenium shard farm?” Leon hurriedly changed the topic. “I’ve only heard vague rumours of them, but never the details. You produce elenium shards, right?”

Skyle chuckled softly at Leon’s obvious discomfort and for his friend's sake decided to go along. “Well, rather than produce them, we only recharge them. We buy the empty shards, then we infuse them with elemental essence and sell them back.”

Leon seemed taken aback by that. “How do you manage to infuse essence into the empty shards?”

“We don’t, but our magical beasts do,” Skyle answered simply. “We raise a small streak of snowblade tigers for that.”

Leon halted abruptly, turning his head to stare at his friend. “Snowblade tigers? You’re one of ‘those’ people?”

Skyle frowned, “What do you mean, ‘those’ people?”

“I’ve heard rumours of some, ah, enterprising and um, courageous people who will attempt to domesticate wild magical beasts in order to generate magical essence,” Leon mumbled, stumbling a few times while he tried to find the proper way to express the idea without offending his friend.

Skyle chuckled, “You mean you’ve heard tales of the crazy fools who, blinded by pure greed, will try to squeeze whatever dregs of elemental essence they can get from savage magical beasts and get their faces eaten for it.”

“Eh, I suppose,” Leon replied carefully.

“Ours is nothing like that. We are just one small family co-existing peacefully with a streak of overgrown kitties for whom it would be far too much trouble than it is worth to try to eat us,” Skyle grinned at the very idea, which seemed truly silly to him. “In fact, I pity the tiger who so much as bares its fangs at da.”

“So, the beasts are magically bound?” Leon asked with a confused half frown. “So many?”

“No, none of them are bound. We just understand them,” Skyle answered simply, but seeing the mystified expression on Leon's face, he promptly elaborated.

“See, snowblade tigers have two overriding characteristics.” Skyle held up his fingers as he enumerated each one. “First, they are incredibly smart. Smarter than some humans I know, even, and that’s not just a joke. And second, they are unbelievably lazy. Their second most practiced skill is that of looking for a warm place to lay under the sun. Their most often employed skill is directly related to the previous one: sleeping under the sun.”

“Eh? I thought snowblade tigers were known for their fierceness and their deadly hunting skills,” Leon muttered.

“Yeah, they can be that, but that’s only so they can kill and eat their prey with as little wasted energy as possible. If they find an easier supply of food which they don’t need to work for, and even have a good place to nap their days away, you couldn’t see a happier bunch of cats in all the world. Rather cuddly, too.”

“That sounds crazy,” Leon said, shaking his head.

“I know, right? Everyone thinks they’re these blood-thirsty, ferocious killers, when really all they want is to eat and sleep with as few distractions as possible.”

Skyle shrugged, chuckling softly at the irony of it.

“I meant you and your whole family,” Leon muttered in disbelief. “How in Avaria’s own mercy could you look at a snowblade tiger and think of it as a cuddly kitten? Are you mad, man? They have fangs longer than my own sword protruding from their mouth, and let’s not even talk about the rest of the blades they can summon at will from various parts of their body. Each blade is made of a bone so pure in magic density, it is completely white, the color of snow. Sharper than any normal steel sword though, so much so that snowblade hunters will risk life and limb to collect them.”

Skyle narrowed his eyes at the mention of the snowblade hunters.

“Bastards, every last of them,” Skyle spat vehemently.

“Poor bastards, you mean,” Leon countered. “Heard most of them end up crippled if not dead outright, the beasts are so ferocious and deadly. Apparently if you kill one, the whole streak will go after you until either you die, or they all do. Crazy beasts.”

“Loyal, you mean,” Skyle grinned.

“Crazy farmers too, from what I see,” Leon grumbled. “Seems fitting. To think you’d talk to anyone about the color of gold..”

“Aw, it’s not so bad, really. If we.. Ah, when we get out of here, I will bring you to meet Ash,” Skyle patted Leon’s shoulder reassuringly.

“Another brother of yours?” Leon asked suspiciously.

“You could say that,” Skyle grinned toothily. “He’s my adopted snowblade tiger, like an unruly younger brother of sorts.”

“...”

Skyle chuckled at the other boy’s reaction. “Oh, I can tell the two of you are going to get along famously. He wouldn't harm a fly. Well, not unless it is messing with his food or pestering him while he's trying to nap. After all, he’s the epitome of your typical snowblade tiger. Whenever he’s not thinking of the easiest way to get food, he’s either dozing off or looking for the idea place to do so.”

“.. Crazy farmers.. Blinded by color of gold, alright..”

Skyle couldn’t help but laugh at that, but deep inside hebegan to wonder what Ash would be doing right now. Likely beginning to fret, as he always did on the rare occasions when Skyle didn’t come home.

“Or just snoring up a storm, like usual,” Skyle snorted in his head.

“Wait for me Ash,” Skyle vowed mentally, the smile slowly disappearing from his face. Instead, a sort of grim determination took its place.

“I will return.”