Volume 1: Arc 2: Chapter 2

AUTHOR'S NOTE

I had some fun with this chapter as you may have guessed from the title. Anyways, I might get you another chapter tonight if you're lucky. If not, I'll see you guys next wednesday. Peace

August 12 - November 30, 20 R.E.

The last two months of Rajac’s journey had been a living hell. Bandits, he supposed, under the king’s command had trailed him all the way to the capital. At first, he thought they had been chasing him since he murdered a few of their friends. But they chased him too doggedly, too loyally. It was as if they had clear instructions to hunt him to the ends of the continent.

Once, they got close enough to the point where Rajac could feel a strong resonance from their location through his Sadat. It was likely they had a raven mage with them transporting orders from the capital.

The king, it appeared, wanted his head. Or, at least, was very interested in speaking to the man who murdered a dozen of his men single handedly.

Either or, Rajac was sure that the resulting encounter would not involve him staying alive very long. Although the bandits were persistent in their pursuit, as a lone rider, he was fleeter of foot. Inexorably, Rajac was able to reach the city just before they did. However, he knew he could not be too careful. If the bandits were looking for him here, it was a strong possibility the soldiers in the capital would be on the lookout as well.

Rajac was able to sneak into the city using a long robe and two very large melons he bought from a passing merchant as he walked up to the city gates. A cheap but clever disguise he had once seen in a movie long ago.

Inside the capital, Rajac felt a weight lift off of him. But, he knew the danger was not past. It was more like he was in the eye of the hurricane and had received a brief respite before the storm came crashing down once again.

He knew the bandits could not look for him openly in the capital if only for the questions it would ask. Rajac doubted the king wanted those questions to find answers any time soon. Soldiers, on the other hand, had no compunction roughing up foreigners in the capital.

As he walked quickly through the city streets, he generally avoided soldiers if he could. It was hard though as they seemed to be everywhere, mixed in with the crowd.

Small, finely crafted venire buildings lined the cobbled streets in parallel rows, backed by high, stone parapets that blanketed out the fine, blue sky in a shade of grey. Although Rajac could not be certain, he was sure countless soldiers roamed those parapets, looking down at the crowd with eagle-eye vision.

The back of his neck crawled as he hunched his shoulders, one arm snatching his melons before they fell to the ground. His face flushed with what might have happened. No doubt, if the melons fell, it would cause soldiers to head towards the boobless woman and cause him no end of embarrassment. And of course, his life as well. Mustn’t forget that.

It did not take him long to find the Identifier Merchant building. It was a long, jutting expanse, overhanging the street with multiple balconies. Literally, it was the most obsolescently crafted building in the city that Rajac had seen.

Skirting the edge of the street, Rajac walked, his head lowered, into the building. A few shelves lined the walls with examples of their work. But mostly, there were a few rows of small tables where Identity Merchants sat with clients conducting their usual business.

Rajac quietly walked up to the desk. It was a strange design. Sanded to a semi-circle, it had a rounded edge with a counter that overlooked the wooden floor below. “Excuse me,” Rajac said in a high-pitched voice, drawing the hood of his cloak low over his face. The man on the other side of the desk looked up distracted not appearing to see through Rajac’s disguise.

In annoyed tone, he said, “You have to make an appointment with the Magistrar’s Guild before meeting with an Identity Merchant. All of our clients have arrived for the day so you clearly are not one of them. Please come back when you’ve made the proper arrangements.”

As the desk manager snapped at him, a few people began to look at Rajac in interest. Not wanting to make an even larger scene, Rajac quietly pulled out the parchment Gais had given him in Thrensford.

Passing it over to the desk manager, he said in the same voice, “Gais, in Thrensford, has given me a recommendation to meet with Alberon.”

As the man accepted the parchment, he read it over once, clucked his tongue to himself. “Rajac, that’s a strange name for a woman.” The man looked up attempting to see under Rajac’s hood. Rajac, once again, ducked his head, mumbling under his breath. “My mother was a strange woman.”

Chuckling to himself, the desk manager rose from his seat. “One moment. I’ll see if he will meet with you.” Then, without another word, he disappeared behind an opening in the wall.

Rajac waited impatiently for the man to return. When he did, there was a sour expression on his face as he said, “He will meet with you. Go through the opening and up the stairs. His office is the last one on the left.”

Nodding, Rajac walked through the opening and up the stairs. The hallway was rather short with a sloping ceiling causing Rajac to have to bend his head slightly as he walked along its length.

As he reached the last door on the left, he saw it was cracked slightly and a glimmer of light was shining from the inside. With a quick knock, he opened the door. It squeaked in protest as he stepped through into a small room with a floor-length window overlooking the street below.

A small man with wiry hair and a rounded face sat behind a desk cramped against the wall. He was smoking a pipe with one hand while playing with a yo-yo with his other hand as he leaned back in a leather backed chair, his feet up on his desk.

“You must be Rajac.” Alberon said, his eyes glinting with humor. “Gais told me a lot about you before you even arrived.” Placing his yo-yo flat against the desk with a clunk, he said, a smirk on his face, “She tells me you’re a Client as well. You must recognize the riches I have collected from the other world.”

Alberon waved his hands expansively at the odd bits-and-ends in his office which included the face of a watch sitting on a shelf, a deflated football, and a t-shirt with Gandhi smoking a bong.

“Where did you get all this stuff?” Rajac looked around amazed. Alberon chuckled. “The perks of being an Identity Merchant. You meet all sorts of interesting people who sell interesting things. By the way,” he said, flicking the tip of his pipe before lifting his tip to his mouth again.

“Why are you dressed as a woman? Don’t get me wrong, the look suits you but I didn’t know you turned that way.” Rajac flushed, half with anger and half with embarrassment. With an annoyed grunt, he threw off the cloak causing the melons to bounce on the ground before settling to a rolling stop at the foot of the desk.

“The king’s men have been stalking me for the past two months. It was all I could do to sneak into the city?” “Oh.” Alberon said with his eyebrows raised. “Whatever did you do?”

Alberon didn’t look too alarmed at the prospect of talking to a fugitive from the king. Rajac stored that information for a later date. “I killed some bandits who were taxing people on the way from Thrensford to the capital while in the king’s land.” “Mmm.” Alberon nodded his head. “Yes, that would do it.”

Alberon paused, considering his next words, before saying, “The Kingdom of Gerosh is getting ready to involve itself in the Azor war. On whose side, I do not know. However, the rumors have been flying the last year-or-so that King Esain wants to secure his legacy much like his father did before him.”

Alberon sighed, puffing on his pipe. “The bandits you speak of are out there collecting taxes. The king has already raised taxes twice in the capital. Already, the people are talking of rioting if the king raises the taxes again. So, it’s my belief that the king has used bandits to filch citizens from the outer-provinces of their hard earned gold. Bandits, as outlaws, could never be connected back to the king giving him a stable source of income while professing innocence in the matter to his citizens.”

“That is a lot of speculation.” Rajac said, crossing his arms. Alberon smiled around his pipe. “Analysis is what I do for a living dear boy. In my care, speculation becomes fact and fact becomes gold.”

Rajac grunted. Alberon’s theory did make sense in a way. The king, wanting war, used bandits to raise gold without raising his citizens’ ire even higher than it already was. There was just one loose end. “Then why chase me? Why spend all that effort?”

“Perhaps the king does not want you to speak the truth?” Alberon shrugged. “I can only speculate?” Rajac snorted. “I thought your speculation became fact.” Alberon quirked his lips up. “So it might, lad. So it might. It’s only a mental exercise at the moment though. You weren’t spotted coming into the city? Right?” “Ahh…my disguise…I think…held up.” Rajac stuttered uncomfortably.

“Good.” Alberon nodded. “Then the king won’t be able to search for you openly, at the very least. Too much suspicion you understand. I don’t think you’ll be here long enough for him to find you.”

“I won’t?” Rajac asked puzzled. “But Gais told me the research into the third Identification might take weeks.”

“Aye. It has.” Alberon said nodding as he shuffled around a couple of papers. “Gais transported a copy of your tomes to me quite a while ago. It gave me enough information to find a general location to the race you seek.”

“You have!” Rajac leaned close to the man, almost touching his nose in his eagerness to know the answer. “Yes.” Alberon squawked, his eyes widening as Rajac leaned over the desk hungrily.

“The ‘force’ Gais could not break through I was able to circumvent. I found the edges of the blank area. I don’t know exactly where it is but I can guide you there.” Alberon said.

“How will you do that?” Rajac said, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

“It’s a form of our Orders magic. Transportation Tertiary Magic. Same principle as copying your data to a tome. I can transport you to the required destination.”

Rajac had never heard of a magic like that. A magic that could transport across distances? Why did Identity Merchants not publish the fact? They would replace the race of Ravens as the primary messengers to every nation. It would make life safer for many who had to travel across wide distances. Bandits, like the ones Rajac faced, would fall by the wayside as instantaneous travel would become the norm.

Rajac narrowed his eyes as he looked upon the Identity Merchant but did not voice his opinions. If the Identity Merchants wanted to keep this supremely useful skill to themselves, Rajac would let them. For the moment. He needed their aid too much to insult them in such a way right now.

Alberon shrugged uncomfortably as a look of trepidation crossed his eyes. “Though, I think you may fail when you arrive. Whoever has blocked this area from our vision is much more powerful than any who reside on this continent. His power might be on the level of a Demi-God.”

Rajac widened his eyes in shock. Demi-Gods, unlike Gods, were not restricted from interfering in the lives of mortals on Thantos. They basically had free reign in any territory not under a Gods protection. Humans and Elves on Vashin Continent were under the protection of Kasor.

So, many of the kingdoms including Gerosh and Azor to the southern tip of the continent were under his protection just due to their population base. The Akiean kingdom in the east is under the protection of their God, Nikoman, and the Empire of Tavinor has a whole pantheon that watches over it. Even the Western Territories had a Goddess watching over it. Malia, the Goddess of Chaos watched over the barbarous races within the region. Due to this, it was still more peaceful than the regions occupied by the Demi-Gods.

In the few pockets where Demi-Gods battled for territory, wholesale destruction of the region was common practice. If the Ventros race where in one of those regions, Rajac went pale at the thought. Gais had confirmed some still lived so they weren’t all dead yet. But Rajac knew, he would be hard pressed to get them out alive.

“Demi-God?” Rajac said hoarsely. He could hardly catch his breath. “Aye.” Alberon said solemnly. “Stay out of his or her way and you should be fine. If you stay on the edges of the territory, you should be able, with a little luck, to find your race and take them to a safer region.

Rajac sighed. “Let’s get this over with.” Why did he have to choose a race with only five people? He doubted any of the other Clients had to do something this hard, or would ever have to do something this hard in their entire renewal cycle.

“Very well.” Alberon said, rising from his chair. He gripped Rajac’s arm with a single hand and, once again, Rajac felt a sharp pain before he blacked out.

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