Chapter 9: Inconvenience

Arcane watched the sun rise over the vast ocean to the east as the boat sailed towards the golden waters it created. There was a beauty in nature, and a wonder, that she always admired. The sunrise was not a thing of mysterious glory only possible to worshipped gods and unknown forces, of course, and if Arcane so chose she could easily replicate the scene at any time on any world, but even so… Just because it was understood and replicable did not make it any less beautiful.

Arcane lifted her face and let the heat from that brilliant star caress her closed eyes and pale cheeks. The dawn winds tousled her cyan hair and dress, leaving both flapping behind her perch atop the high beam. The sails swelled and drove the ship into those winds by mechanics Arcane found curious, if not entirely interesting, strengthening the breeze she felt.

Below, a number of beast people were coming out from below deck and taking up ropes under the shouted orders of Annabelle and Jasmina. The rest who had stayed up at night went the other direction, heading below to find their rest where they could.

The sun rose slowly into the cloudless sky as they raced about on the deck below, changing the sails’ positions to better run against the wind. It seemed someone experienced in sailing had been found because their movements became purposeful and directed. Arcane didn’t mind it, not even when a young girl scampered up the mast to the crow’s nest with a squeak as she passed the cyan girl’s perch. She was in no hurry to reach the eastern lands, after all. Finding out this was a cultivation world had put a serious damper on her desire to find civilization. Not that what a cultivation society built could be called any such thing, she commented to herself.

Tiring of the pain in her hips from extended periods of sitting, Arcane let herself fall sideway and swung her legs up to wrap around the beam… A yard, she suddenly remembered it was called. The piece of wood to which the top of the sail were affixed was called the yard on a sailing ship. So she lay on the yard with her legs gripping around it and her arms crossed behind her head, letting the sunlight run over her prone form.

None of the beast people- no, they called themselves elfbeasts, didn’t they? So elves took the position as the main race instead of humans, it would appear. All of them so far had been catlike elfbeasts, which led Arcane to believe they were likely all a single race with differences reserved to coloration (fur and skin) and features. Somewhat disappointing for them all to be the same race, but Arcane was well aware that there would be minor differences between, say, the eastern and western elfbeasts that led them to consider each other sub-elfbeast and therefore justify slavery. Once upon a time Arcane remembered a story of a human saying that if everyone was the same color racism wouldn’t exist (back when the primary form of discrimination was between different skin colors), and someone had rebutted him with something like “Ah, but what about the Jews, good sir?”

Arcane interpreted the story to mean that no matter what differences you eliminated, humans and humanoids insisted on differentiation and discrimination. As far as she had seen, that interpretation was a truism.

Of course, she had also noted the opposite. When extremely diverse groups were gathered, racism divided based on the most extreme differences first and amusingly united those who otherwise would hate each other for trivial differences. Want to make skin color not matter? Add some beast people and elves to a divided human group, and watch the humans unite in a heartbeat to hate the others.

Arcane’s lips quirked up in amusement at that thought. Idly she wondered whether it was a religious or scientific justification they used to support their differentiation, or if it had a basis in simpler tribalism and required nothing more. She was certain that whatever it was was ridiculous, utterly illogical, and highly persuasive to everyone on this planet. Humanity’s ability to exercise their minds to the utmost for the worst possible cause had been perfectly preserved in their descendents, after all.

Arcane pulled up her waterskin and poured it over her face. The dark thoughts were banished as she rubbed her face and hair and gasped in the sudden cold. Combing her mussed hair with her fingers, she contemplated the low sun on the horizon and the shimmering ocean beneath it. A bath would be nice, she thought, but getting back on the ship would be less so. Thus, she made the decision not to toss herself overboard for a quick swim in the salt water.

“Savior.” A dignified voice came from her feet, which a quick glance revealed to be Annabelle hanging onto the mast just below the yard. “Jasmina and I are retiring below deck. Would you care to join us?” she asked while pointing to the ship far below.

“I’m comfortable here, you know?” Arcane responded, gesturing to her (unfortunately hard) perch.

“... Are you sure? This does not seem the best of beds…” Annabelle asked, looking uncertainly at the precarious yard and and swaying sails below it. She wasn’t pushy or insistent, but Arcane did not list among her flaws density (except when it came to romance, which was at least partially intentional). For some reason Annabelle wished to speak with Arcane in private with her lady alongside her.

Inwardly muttering complaints about troublesome matters and people who don’t know enough to leave well enough alone, Arcane sighed and rolled off the yard. She hung on with her legs, swaying upside down while her arms held her head and her dress fell to show most of her thighs. Annabelle screamed for a second before noting that the other girl was perfectly fine and smiling lopsidedly while she hung, breathing a sigh of relief.

“You scared me.” She pouted, climbing down to where she could better see Arcane’s hanging form.

“A fall from here wouldn’t hurt me.” Arcane noted, measuring the distance to the deck and the number of ropes in the way. “I’ll go down. Lead the way.”

Annabelle muttered something about ‘blazing reckless fools’ and descended in the rigging, carefully watching each step she took. Arcane noted that the princess, despite having cultivation of the second highest level, was still afraid of heights; that amused her somewhat, as the typical image of cultivators involved them flying all the time. When the cat-eared redhead was just a few step away from the deck Arcane let go with her legs and plummeted downwards.

Arcane had timed it perfectly, the various ropes slipping past her before she grabbed one and flipped herself around so her feet led instead of her head. Having also used that to slow her descent, she was able to gently fall from rope to rope with a slight retarding grasp on each one before lightly landing right in front of the dumbfounded Annabelle and the rest of the former slave crew.

Raising an eyebrow and indicating the door to below deck, Arcane said “After you.” which prompted the princess to shake herself awake and set off into the darkness below the ship.

Annabelle led the way to the rear of the ship, where the former captain’s personal cabin remained unoccupied. It seemed the pair of nobles had claimed it for themselves, as Jasmina was waiting there for the two of them. She rose and closed the door behind Arcane, as Annabelle led her to a seat at a small table with a single candle in the center. Playing along for now, Arcane took the offered seat and waited for Annabelle and Jasmina to seat themselves.

“Sorry for lying. We aren’t actually intending to sleep yet. Cultivators don’t need much, and we hoped you were similar.” Annabelle said, inclining her head in apology but keeping her eyes fixed on Arcane’s closed ones. Jasmina nodded from where she was sitting to Annabelle’s side, handing out a trio of cups which she filled with a red liquid.

“I figured as much.” Arcane noted, taking her cup and sniffing it before scrunching up her face. “No thanks.” She added, pushing the cup back to Jasmina.

“Sorry. This is the best bloodwine I could find; is there anything else I can get you?” Jasmina asked, glancing sideways at Annabelle who was taking small sips and only frowning slightly.

“It’s fine, Jasmina.” Annabelle said, taking another sip.

Arcane took another cup and filled it with her waterskin. “This will be fine. I don’t much like alcohol.”

“Oh.” Jasmina said, putting the bottle away and turning back to the table. “I didn’t realize.”

“I’d be more worried if you did.” Arcane noted sarcastically. Jasmina laughed nervously but Annabelle was much more amused.

“HAHA! Don’t be so tense, Jasmina. We’re all equals here, right?” The princess said, clapping the other girl on the back and filling her cup again. “So, I don’t believe we’ve been introduced yet. I’m Annabelle, Princess of Roses. This is Jasmina, a Count-”

“Merely a viscountess, your highness.” Jasmina corrected.

“Nonsense!” Annabelle declared. “We’ll have that fixed the second we reach the kingdom. Anyway,” She continued, speaking to Arcane again. “How are you called?”

“Arcane.” Arcane said simply, not adding any title or rank. Technically she held several thousand; she had ruled empires and nations, been worshipped innumerable times, and been acclaimed by numerous forces of greater and lesser might. But the name she had been given at birth was far, far more meaningful than any of those petty accolades.

“Arcane? Just Arcane?” Annabelle asked, surprised. “I see. Well, I guess it makes it easier to promote you than if you were already noble born.”

“I decline.” Arcane responded quickly.

Annabelle and Jasmina were both taken aback, requiring a few seconds to process what she said. “You, decline?” Annabelle asked to confirm.

“More precisely, I will decline if a title or promotion is offered. I have no use for such a thing.” Arcane explained simply, shaking her head.

“Are you sure? Titles can make many things easier, and there is a reward of territory and resources to any promoted noble of the Rose Kingdom.” Annabelle explained.

Arcane still shook her head. “Let me be clear: there is no reward you can offer which I desire, princess.” She said with a gentle smile, trying to make her words less antagonistic but still expressing herself absolutely.

“You…” Jasmina started angrily, but Annabelle cut her off with a soft touch.

“I understand.” Annabelle said. “I can’t say I’m too surprised, though it is disheartening. In return for your sincerity, let me be blunt as well: What would it take to make you an ally of our Rose Kingdom?”

It was Arcane’s turn to be surprised. Cultivators were more prone to bluntness than users of other powers, but nobles of any system typically never declared straight out what they wanted, especially if it put them at a disadvantage. Either this princess was a political neophyte, or she had already realized that Arcane was not someone their kingdom could subjugate under any circumstances. Either way, Arcane liked her a bit more than a fool thinking himself clever with petty tricks and schemes.

“You can’t.” Arcane returned bluntness with bluntness. This entire world was barely worth her attention, and only a desire to pacify the void swimmers was making her stay here for any length of time.

“... Is there truly nothing? Perhaps just in name without any obligations?” Annabelle didn’t give up, to her credit. Jasmina glowered from the side, annoyed at her princess humiliating herself like this. True, from her perspective, Arcane was terrifyingly powerful and perhaps the equal of a ninth tier cultivator, but her respect for her princess and her nation was reasserting itself. No matter how strong, she couldn’t see Arcane being on the level of equalling the entire nation.

Arcane didn’t mind being disrespected in that way. The girl was more sensible than her princess, who was gambling far too much on minimal information. “I will do as I want, nothing more and nothing less. It is possible to affect that, though.” Arcane explained, testing the princess waiting for an answer.

“...” Annabelle remained silent, meeting Arcane’s closed eyes with her own and slowly nodding. Not a neophyte at all, Arcane realized. The princess knew something Jasmina didn’t, and Arcane needed to figure out what it was before that information was communicated. If every power was as dedicated in pursuing her as this princess, it would be terribly difficult to move on this world without irritation.

“... Could we speak alone?” Arcane asked, finally moving of her own initiative. Jasmina started and opened her mouth in anger but Annabelle cut her off.

“Wait outside, Jasmina.” the princess said easily, tensing slightly in anticipation. Looking wronged in every way, the other noble girl glared at Arcane and stalked outside, slamming the door behind her.

Directing the power flowing through her and simultaneously hiding it from all, Arcane created a simple barrier around the room to prevent any information outflow. Not letting any trace of this show on her face or actions, she leaned towards Annabelle.

“Curious, isn’t it?” She whispered in a voice low enough the princess had to move her head closer as well. “Your servant doesn’t seem to believe I’m all that, but you’re willing to sell your entire kingdom for a single favor.”

“I suppose so.” Annabelle responded, struggling to keep her face impassive.

“I suppose so indeed.” Arcane repeated, ignoring the struggles. “What makes you this desperate, I wonder?”

“... To tell the truth, my nation is facing increased pressure from-” Annabelle began, but Arcane cut her off in irritation.

“Do you think me a fool, girl?” She hissed threateningly. “No matter how dire the situation, you are wagering far more than you should for a single person.”

“... A single person of strength can match an army-” Annabelle tried again, but this time she was grabbed and slammed onto the table, Arcane putting her teeth right against the flat ears of the other.

“Answer my question.” Arcane snarled into it, her voice so quiet that the waves outside could be heard against the side of the ship. Annabelle struggled briefly and then fell limp, leading Arcane to release her and sit back.

“... Just to confirm, you want to know why I think you’re that strong, right?” Annabelle asked, straightening her hair nervously.

“Obviously.” Arcane nodded, her face truly emotionless as she waited for an explanation.

“... haa… I figured, but you really aren’t from this world are you?” Annabelle said, seeming tired.

“A claim like that should have been dismissed, no matter how persuasive I was.” Arcane noted, remembering her indiscretion last night atop the mast. “That can’t be it.”

“It got me thinking. I heard from the others that there was a burst of incredible power three days ago, at nightfall. Some were saying a god descended…” Annabelle trailed off as Arcane’s closed eyes tensed. “I was thinking it was you.”

“If I were to say it was?” Arcane asked, probing.

“From their description the power was above a tenth tier cultivator, perhaps even much more. That, added to your destruction of my chains and making the sand dragons submit, makes me think you are much, much stronger than a ninth tier cultivator.” Annabelle explained nervously.

Arcane nodded. “I see. Each feat shouldn’t have been much more than a ninth or tenth tier, honestly, though… even by this crude system.” She muttered to herself. “You risked a lot on the off chance I was the same as that burst of energy.”

“Do you know how strong sand dragons are?” Annabelle asked, shaking her head. “Elite eighth tier cultivators like my grandfather would have trouble with one seventh tier dragon, and there were seven eighth tier ones you crushed. That was a high tenth tier feat at minimum.”

“... my information says they are merely on par, not capable of surpassing a tier.” Arcane questioned, pretty sure the princess was right but wondering how she went wrong.

“Your information probably never tried to kill one. Also, I could tell they were scared of you. How many did you kill up till that point?” Annabelle returned, gaining more and more confidence.

“No idea.” Arcane said honestly, then sighed. “Haa… Fortunately there’s only one who came to this conclusion, which makes it easier to suppress.”

“Suppress?” Annabelle asked, startled.

“Yes, suppress. I’m not going to kill you, if that’s what you’re afraid of, but I am going to have to make sure you don’t talk about my strength.” Arcane explained, finishing off the magic formation she had been drawing the entire time and making it visible to check. “Fortunately, I have lots of practice silencing inconvenient mouths.”

Annabelle was staring at the formation wide-eyed, unable to make heads nor tails of the massive circle of glowing symbols. “What…”

“What is this? Magic, little girl. One of the more versatile uses of power, and my speciality. This is oath magic, specifically, and it will make it impossible for you to speak or think of me as more powerful than a tenth tier cultivator. For a month, anyway.” Arcane explained simply.

Nodding in satisfaction, she waved her hand and the formation flashed and sank into Annabelle’s skin, sealing the memories and words Arcane wanted to avoid. Leaning back and taking a drink of water, the bright cyan girl shook her head.

“I’ve always found men uninteresting, and lesbianism is not one of my fondnesses either.” She said, blushing slightly. Annabelle looked at her in incomprehension and set her cup down.

“Huh?” She asked, looking around.

Arcane shook her head and put her cup down. “See, this is why I don’t like alcohol. You’re having a wonderfully entertaining discussion and then your partner suddenly blacks out and acts like she doesn’t remember any of it. It’s boring.” She rolled her eyes under their closed lids after trailing them across the line of empty bottles in front of Annabelle.

“... Oh. I did get a bit carried away, don’t you think?” Annabelle continued, trying to pretend to not be drunk. Arcane mentally reminded herself not to overdo it.

“Maybe you should sleep after all.” She grumbled. “I’ll go get your maid and see myself out. If you were just going to drink I should have let her stay…”

Arcane stood up and opened the door, letting Jasmina race inside and see Annabelle trying to hide the empty bottles behind her.

“Your Highness!” She shouted, her face flushing with anger. “You drank it all!”

“Now, now, I can explain, Jasmina…” She started.

“Explain nothing! You’re a princess, think about your image…” Jasmina’s tirade was cut off behind Arcane as she carefully closed the door and walked away down the hallway.

Dealing with the princess had been more annoying than she anticipated, but a few minor details would finish the issue soon. Annabelle would remember just after she would leave this world, giving the girl something to aspire to and hopefully helping her drive the species forward. A kindness Arcane was not obliged to provide, but also a habit she couldn’t shake. There was always a chance the race would miraculously grow to be the next Creators and rule the universe. Miniscule as it was, less likely things had happened.

Arcane remembered many of them.