Chapter 12: Tidewalker Port

“Land Ho!” One of the former slaves called the morning after Arcane enchanted the pair of swords hanging behind her over the yard. Kicking her legs irritably, Arcane wished they’d hurry up and get to the port already so she could explore this new world. She was maintaining the state of artificial excitement to distract herself from the prescience that this port would be exactly like countless others she had seen over her long, long life and thus would be just as boring and pointless.

Fruit would be new, she reminded herself. No matter how many planets she visited Arcane had never encountered the exact same fruits and vegetables on any of them. The names were often the same, an apple a red or green seeded fruit that grew on a tree, an orange being, well, orange, bananas often appearing very similar between world, and countless others. However, tiny differences in the soil and sunlight gave them all subtly different tastes which were never truly the same. Arcane’s personal favorite were those like apples that were slightly sour under a great deal of sweetness. Not those that had too much acid, like the lemon variants or, even worse, limes; no, Arcane loved the sweet fruits that had just that slight trace of sourness. Light green apple types were most often of this sort, along with a few varieties of pears.

Oranges and their ilk were not among this list, despite having the right flavor. The hard outer skin and the textured flesh put her off way too much, not at all like the smooth and uniform flesh of apples or pears. Vegetables were better basic foods, rarely having the necessary flavor since they were typically grown as staple foods like as lettuce, cabbage, carrots, and so on. If Arcane still needed to eat, they would be something she would stock up on here.

Grains and meats, unfortunately, tended to be less diverse. Arcane had never been one to understand the flavor of unseasoned meats (‘It all tastes like chicken’, she quoted to herself) and grain was often so heavily processed that the variation in flavor all came from additives and method rather than any changes in the plant itself. The texture would change, but taste had never been a primary concern of that form of food.

What Arcane loved most, though, were artificial sweets made with crystallized sugar, specifically sour gummies. Pastries and cakes still existed rather often, even ice cream occasionally, but something along the lines of hard candy, gummies, or other processed sugar was never found. Arcane had considered thousands of times enslaving a few planets and forcing them to produce artificial sweets, but even when she gave in to that temptation they never tasted quite right. There was much she would do if she could once again taste the delicious texture and flavor of gummy bears, the pure flavor without any dietary benefits filling her mouth and dying her tongue in their color.

‘I’m such a child,’ Arcane thought to herself, grinning into the wind.

Once again in a good mood, she stood up and faced the front of the ship to see the land coming over the horizon. Smooth hills and low mountains greeted her eyes, indicating forested terrain and a rather easily traversed area. Unsure of where the port was (or what mountains those were) she wasn’t sure how close they were to their destination, but from the movements on the ship below it was plenty close for the former slaves who had now spent twenty days at sea and only a few hours ashore.

Listening in on a conversation between Annabelle and Jasmina, Arcane picked up some information on where they were.

“Those are the Red Hills, right?” Annabelle asked Jasmina.

Jasmina nodded. “I believe so, your highness.” She said, holding her hand over her eyes. “But I’ll need to get closer to confirm.”

“What else could they be?” Annabelle asked.

“Well, it could also be the southern edge of the Sea of Trees.” Jasmina noted.

“In which case it is still far south of Tidewalker port.” Annabelle retorted. “Hard to port!” She called, waving her left paw at the crew.

Frantic motion responded as the ship tilted to the side and rotated counterclockwise slowly. About halfway through the left turn Annabelle straightened the ship out and sailed at an angle to the shore.

“We’ll head in a bit before sailing the rest of the way along the coast.” Annabelle told Jasmina.

“Yes, highness.” Jasmina answered, taking the wheel.

Arcane ignored them again, determining that the port was still north of here and thus they would head that way at first. She busied herself with watching the coastline they were passing, her closed eyes seeing further than even the crow’s nest could allow and observing the tiny creatures wandering in the forest. Many had cultivation, and she realized just how much stronger the sand lizards had been from a simple comparison. Raising an eyebrow mentally Arcane wondered why the lizards had gotten so strong when everything else on this world seemed limited to a ridiculously dismal power level.

The species she saw were rarely anything new, evolution having taken a backseat to cultivation and other methods by which life denied nature. Deer and wolves fought with cultivated force, which bears gathered more in their sturdy frames to hunt both. Tigers and lions ruled, the great cats having taken to cultivation like a fish to water. Insects as well, tiny powers hidden below the greater strength of the rest but still fighting in ways they had not before the introduction of these energies into their lives. Arcane watched them all, seeing the flows of natural energy around and through the living things on this world.

They continued to sail past villages and forests. Arcane saw people look up as they passed, some waving while others fled in fear. The ship was flying no flag, but the power that surrounded and identified it was that of the Rose princess as the strongest on board (with the exception of Arcane, who chose not to participate). The reactions of the villagers reflected their feelings on her kingdom, though Arcane doubted she much cared for the opinions of elfbeasts who lacked cultivation and strength of any kind.

Arcane eventually saw the port come into view on the horizon, a tiny set of wooden structures rising above the plain in which it had isolated itself. It wasn’t massive by her standards, perhaps a few thousand people in all, but that didn’t surprise her much either. A dozen ships rode at anchor in the harbor, a few more outside it, all the size of this ship or smaller. One was obviously a war ship, outfitted with a giant ram on its front end and streamlined to carry soldiers quickly over the waters, but the rest seemed mercantile with great cargo holds rising out of the sea.

The Catherine sailed clumsily through those ships, the third near collision gaining the attention of the warship which turned and approached them under hard oars. As it passed right by them a single person jumped from the ship’s deck to that of the Catherine, landing right in front of the waiting Annabelle.

“Who’s Captain of this ship?” The man asked, an older male with rounded cat ears and greenish irises over his slit pupils, his fangs showing under his curled lip as he glared around the princess.

“I am.” Annabelle replied easily, holding out her paw.

“You what?” The man exclaimed, whirling to stare at her with his tail stiffening suddenly.

“I am the captain, sir…?” She asked, waiting for him to introduce himself.

“Sir Trevias, Princess.” He said shortly, looking her up and down and frowning while her tail twitched irritably. “The blazes did you get a ship?”

“Through a length of misfortune, Sir Trevias.” Annabelle explained, shaking her head. “I was kidnapped by pirates and fortunately managed to escape. This ship was our only way back, and I was forced to take command.”

Trevias blinked and looked around, noting the former slaves struggling to control the sails and beams. “You’re lucky you didn’t run into a storm.” He noted finally.

“I seem to be favored after my ordeal.” Annabelle said with a smile.

Shaking his head, Trevias gestured for her to lead him to the helm. “I’ll take command and get you into port, if you don’t mind. We don’t need a collision here, no offense.”

“None taken. I am no sailor.” Annabelle replied, motioning for Jasmina to leave him the helm.

“I can see that.” Trevias muttered. Then he took a deep breath and started yelling orders. “Tighten the main line; yes that one! Let the boom swing free! Tuck in the sails! Half of you get below deck!”

Scrambling motion responded to his air of command. Trevias shouted over and over again while carefully guiding the ship through the crowded port with the warship coming around behind. He sent up several bursts of power to signal the ship, which peeled away and left the rest to him. Glancing around at the less crowded deck he sighed in relief and maneuvered calmly.

“I assume you will want to contact lord Jeffers?” Trevias asked Annabelle once the ship was under control.

“I would very much, and my father.” Annabelle replied.

“That might be difficult.” Trevias said unhappily. “Our last messenger to the Rose Kingdom was sent three days ago.”

“Then I will simply have to return myself.” Annabelle nodded firmly, dismissing his concerns.

“Glad to see you so understanding.” Trevias muttered, carefully swinging around a moderately large vessel backing out. Glancing back at the ship as he passed, he looked up and noted Arcane’s blue dress on the yard high above.

“Oi!” He called out, causing her to look down at him. “Get down from there!” He waved towards the deck, shaking his head. “Blazing reckless fool.”

“Um, Sir Trevias…” Annabelle started as Arcane sighed and stood up atop the yard. “I’m not sure that’s the best…”

“It’s a blazed fool thing… What in the blazes!” Shouted Trevias as Arcane jumped from the yard and started falling to the deck in front of him. He was about to jump forward to catch her when Annabelle grabbed his arm and shook her head.

Arcane landed softly right in front of him, having redirected her fall on the ropes and sails to kill all her momentum. Tilting her head curiously while looking up at the two, she asked, “What?”

Trevias was speechless, staring at the child who had safely plummeted over ten meters before acting like it was no big deal. Annabelle laughed softly and patted his arm.

“Don’t worry about it. She’s a bit of a strange one.” Annabelle consoled him while laughing.

“A blazing reckless fool in my mind.” Trevias responded sullenly. “Don’t ever do that again, girl.”

“It’s not like it could hurt me.” Arcane commented for the upteenth time, rolling her eyes beneath the closed lids.

“...” Trevias didn’t answer, focusing on bringing the ship to a stop right next to one of the great piers stretching out from the town. With a single soft bump the ship came to a stop and started floating in the still waters. “Cast down some lines!” He called towards those remaining on deck.

A few minutes later and the ship was tied to the dock and secured.

Ignoring Arcane, he stalked off snarling at the poorly tied ropes and started redoing several of them while Annabelle and Jasmina jumped down onto the pier and started bringing the gangplank down as well. The rest boiled up out of the hold and swarmed toward the exit, desperate to leave the ship they had several bad memories of.

Arcane herself bent light around a tunnel in the sky and walked over their heads to the end of the pier. Without a second glance she set off into the depths of the city as the ship was taken care of behind her under the uncoordinated efforts of the Rose princess and Trevias.

Her first impression was of filth. Garbage was strewn about the streets and alleys, rotting food and old clothes first and foremost among them. A few urchins ran about, filthy rags for clothes over scrawny bodies. The buildings ran with streaks of black ash and hardened salt, no effort being made to paint over them. Arcane herself stood out like a sore thumb, her clean dress remaining unnaturally untouched in the grime of the area.

The winding roads were meant for a carriage once, but Arcane doubted any had passed through here for years. The closest thing to vehicles were the flat boards several adults dragged along, most empty or nearly so. A few were loaded with barrels of some sort, a glance inside revealing most to be alcohol and the rest to be fish, but Arcane declined to investigate further as to their purpose.

The people she saw were almost entirely mundanes without any sort of cultivation or power at all. She noted the wrinkled hands of fishermen and the gnarled skin of the women, indicating a life spent solely off the sea. Sniffing the air she smelled the endless stink of rotting fish and the almost worse smell of elfbeast waste, evidently similar enough to human for her to feel sickened by it.

Arcane continued to walk along, her bare feet constantly being cleaned by a subtle use of magic that prevented them picking up the filth they walked through. Her hands were folded behind her back, her back straight and her face forward while she watched everything she passed with an all seeing eye. Coloration was evidently not the basis of discrimination, she noted after seeing children of red, black, and golden fur playing together happily. Yet even so all were cat beastkin, their slitted eyes and upturned ears flicking towards her as she walked by. A group of the young were playing with some sort of rounded object, which she found to be a turtle shell on closer inspection. She was unable to get close enough to smell or touch any of those she passed, all keeping a wary and watchful distance from the invader into their homes.

Arcane wandered the city, finding herself to have first landed in the middle district of three after entering the somewhat nicer noble area. The streets still ran with filth, but carriage tracks were visible and the clothing was nicer. Where one had been woven directly from leaves and hides these were now made of some sort of fiber, perhaps fur or wool. The nicest looked like velvet, though it obviously wasn’t, while others appeared even stranger. The covered areas seemed to be the standard, upper torso and hips for females and pelvis alone for males, though the chest was often covered as well. Interestingly shoes were not a part of the culture, nor rings. Considering their paws for feet and hands that wasn’t entirely surprising.

Arcane saw one fight as she passed what looked to be a bar. Contrary to her expectations, the two kept their claws sheathed and struck much as humans or elves would with their furred paws. They kept slapping and kicking at each other, standing at first and eventually rolling around on the floor to punch at their foe whenever they managed to get on top. Arcane watched from a distance, seeing straight through the ring of elfbeasts forming around the fighting pair and cheering for one or the other.

The larger elfbeast was knocked out by the smaller one’s clever use of a broken table leg to crack his skull, the victor raising his arms and screaming towards the sky. Except for the oversized fangs in the gaping maw, the gesture was almost identical to one a human would use. So was the drink he received from a friend and the coin like money, mostly tin and copper covered stones similar to the gilded ones she had taken from the pirate captain.

Based on the trades being made Arcane came up with an approximation of the exchange rate. Rounded stones without any metal seemed to be the smallest denomination, thrown to the side for the urchins to pick up but not used for much else. How many of these it took to make the next size up was unknown, but the largest set she had seen be traded was 37 uncovered stones (with 5 pieces of tin covered ones). She had also observed that the elfbeasts tended to have eight fingers instead of ten, 3 stubby fingers tipped with retractable claws and a thumb like smaller one that bent the other way. Assuming they were to use base 8 from that fact (in which 37 was 45), she took a guess at the exchange rate being 100 uncovered stones for 1 tin one (both numbers in base eight, which converted to 64 in base 10). Tin was less than copper, surprisingly, at an 8 to 1 exchange rate. If the uncovered stones were 1/64th of a tin ‘piece’, as she had heard it called, then the coppers would be 8 pieces and gold would likely be either 64 or 512 pieces. She had no evidence to indicate that either was correct, or if there was some intermediate exchange rate used (almost any power of 2 would be acceptable, considering how versatile base 8 was).

Arcane didn’t know why gilded stones were used instead of solid metal, and no explanation was forthcoming until she thought of counterfeiting. Gilding a stone without causing damage to it would certainly be no easy task, especially if the cost of metal was already high. Based on how worthless the stones themselves were someone who collected similarly round stones to use as currency would not make enough. It was also likely that exchanges involving hundreds of stones would be questioned as to why the buyer didn’t have a slightly higher denomination to use instead. However, this was a rather flimsy reason derived without any real evidence.

Arcane continued to walk through the filthy streets, thinking on the sheer number of societies she had seen. Currency was a constant, as well as some form of government. Death and taxes, she thought to herself, are the only certainties. The form either of those come in, on the other hand, varied so wildly as to be considered completely different things entirely. On this world, gilded stones very similar to coinage. On another, concentrated power would be used while weighted steel formed a wonderful basis for economy on a third.

There was often a relationship between the type of currency used and the society it formed. Rare and precious metals often formed the highest levels, especially gold for its corrosion resistant properties. Copper was easily distinguishable and extremely useful at every level of civilization, so it was another mainstay. Interestingly, copper and tin could be alloyed into bronze which would look a lot like gold to the untrained eye, though Arcane had some doubts about the ability of this civilization to smelt bronze. The tools were stone age, with cultivated strength having replaced the technological development of metals. Sheer strength could carve stone pretty easily, but heat was required to shape metal properly.

Arcane stopped her thoughts as she came to a market at the border between the upper and lower districts. The majority of sold products were meat, and the rest were almost all grains. Rice seemed to be the backbone of the cuisine here, a long grained variant that seemed hardy and difficult to harvest. It was probably the ease of planting that led to its popularity, Arcane noted as she identified several of the weeds growing out of the mud streets to be of the same genetic family. Something guaranteed to grow would surpass something easily harvested in a civilization that needed food first and ease second.

There were spices on the upper class side, along with several smoked meats and raw carcasses. The animal being butchered seemed like a cross between a dog and a pig, with canine teeth and fur over a pig’s fat body and hooves. Maybe a tusked pig developed fangs and a carnivorous nature. As an experiment Arcane tried to purchase one of the more valuable types, a smoked slice that resembled bacon but definitely wasn’t.

“Three strips, please.” She said to the seller, who grunted.

“162 pieces.” The pig seller said. Arcane did some quick mental computations, converting 162 in base eight to 114 in base ten, which she then divided to find 38 pieces per strip. Changing base was an annoying and troublesome process, especially when the language made no mention of which base was being used.

Arcane handed over a piece of gold gilded stone, which widened the merchant’s eyes. He carefully took it and inspected the gold, scratching a line through it and nodding after confirming the authenticity. He started preparing change, which Arcane noted to be 23 coppers and 6 tins. So 256 pieces was the value of one gold covered stone, or 400 in base eight. Halfway between her expectations, leading Arcane to tell the shopkeeper to keep the change (she had only needed to know the value) with a magnanimous smile.

He bowed repeatedly as she walked away, making the gold vanish somewhere in his clothing as she headed for the other side of the market munching on one of the strips. She almost spat it out in disgust; there was little to no flavor, and the texture was greasy like mush. Annihilating the piece in her mouth and all the rest, she conjured water to wash out her throat and hoped never to taste any such thing again.

Giving up on the meat, Arcane began a careful search for fruit or vegetables. The smells of the smoking meat reminded her of the taste of that terrible strip, making her feel a touch nauseous as she explored.

There were dozens of such stalls, though. Arcane finally found one that wasn’t smoking or butchering the pigdogs on the lower class side after dodging a dozen pickpockets trying to be clever. One had been aiming for something else, leading Arcane to subtly redirect his foot and send him crashing into a butcher’s stall where the knife wielding proprietor had not taken kindly to the ruining of his supplies. The unfortunate pervert promptly begged for his life and was forced to kneel in the mud until everything was straightened out, allowing Arcane to easily escape his notice.

The stall she found was a relatively small one bordering the low class district, selling a few rounded fruits that seemed half rotted. Sufficiently desperate, Arcane purchased three of the best looking ones which she subtly revitalized to see the reddish skin of standard apples. Nodding thanks at the shopkeeper, a female elfbeast who was somewhat skinny and unattractive with a pinched face and wizened cheeks, she walked deeper into the low class area without a hint of fear or caution, eating one of the apples.

The muddy streets grew even worse. The fumes made her eyes water and the stench was among the worst she had ever smelled. Yet Arcane kept walking, deeper and deeper into the filth and rubbish that covered the area.

The elfbeasts in the street here were cripples, struggling to so much as move from their spots on the side of the road. There were no children visible, likely being hidden by their parents, who kept doors locked and windows dark. The majority of the population, though, were obvious criminals.

The average power level was much higher than in the other districts, a barely concealed bloodlust filling the streets. Cultivators of low levels walked freely, wearing black or dark brown robes to conceal their appearance and kicking anyone who stood in their way out of it. Gangs of powerless mortals gathered together to oppose them, a few cultivators even joining those groups. Arcane didn’t see anyone threatening, so she didn’t feel any trace of fear or nervousness. Those around her thought it mere bravado, though.

“Hey, girly.” A male elfbeast with scarred ears and large muscles said as he stepped into her way. “Wanna have some fun?” He asked with a lewd grin.

Arcane ignored him, walking right past him without a second’s hesitation. Angered, the elfbeast grabbed her with his paw and pushed her to the side. Or tried to… His attack failed to do anything and simply left him stumbling backwards as Arcane continued on her way.

“Oi! 300 pieces to whoever gets me that freak!” He called with wounded pride, leading several uninterested cultivators to watch the developing scene. Two others, mundanes, snatched up stone knives and charged at her.

Arcane took a quick step back to let them race past her, then slid to the side to avoid one’s follow up blow right before they ran into each other. As they fell in a tangle of limbs she glanced around and noted she was surrounded.

Great. She thought to herself. Just great, absolutely incompetent idiots every one of them.

The first to attack were the mundanes, the cultivators seeing no reason to get involved yet. Stone knives and axes were thrown about with abandon and a few had bows, the arrows stone tipped yet still just as lethal. To a normal person, that is. Arcane could easily stand firm through the entire assault and come out unscarred.

She did not want to, however. So she drew the sword and decided to test its power on these unwilling fools. Yet before she could even activate its power, and gather the winds she would use to smite her assailants, a voice was heard over everything else around them.

“Stop!”