THREE

The dirt kicked up by innumerable feet, and hooves, quickly reminded Stavi of his place in the world. He had tasted the tiniest draught of power, and almost let it go to his head. Stepping in fresh shit this morning was going to keep him from falling into that mindset again anytime soon.

Looking around, it was strange and awesome to see so many different people on the road. There were merchants with massive stacks of goods on the backs of their beasts of burden, or lashed to the bed of wagons. There were mercenaries moving alongside the road on their horses, and numberless quantities of the poor walking in between them all.

“Sahib, sahib! I have the best, most lovely, flatbreads on the whole way to Thousand Crane City, buy some now! Only five copper dinars.” A young boy pulled at the hem of a merchant’s robe, trying to make a sale but all he got for his trouble was a blow to the head with a quirt.

“Stave off, flea! Keep your hands far from me and my goods!” The red-faced, fat merchant was looking around warily, as if a whole tribe of bandits were about to come down on him.

I have heard that there are whole gangs who frequent this road, pillaging merchants as they move. Good thing I don’t look like I have anything much to steal.

Stavi used his travel time to allow his senses to range out around him. Since he had the vitality core, he had been able to sense vitality in others for a distance around him, and what he could learn from that was incredible. Some of the biggest, and strongest, characters around him had flagging vitality, and some others were clearly hidden experts. That was the extent of what his power would currently let him do, without an active source of vitality, but it already had brought him into an entirely new world.

The proof of that was some hard eyes he received from a few of the disguised Magi. At least, that is what Stavi assumed they were.

They definitely look at me as if they can detect there is something off. I wonder what a core feels like to them? Surely different than a sarovara, and yet there is a sense of familiarity. At some point I will have to find one I can ask some questions of, for now I just need to husband the little strength I have.

As the sun started to set in the West, merchants and travelers began to leave the road to set up camp, and it was quite a sight. They would simply leave the road at any of the spots marked for a spring or waterhole, and set up their tents. It was as if small cities sprung up from the dry plains grass, completely appearing by magic.

Stavi was feeling like his feet were about to explode, or fall off, so he decided to leave the road when he saw an encampment that had several large merchants set up for the night. One of them was selling scrolls and books, he could see, and he was anxious to dig through them. He had become well known in his previous home’s bazaars as he hunted for any information on magic, but the Magi kept a strict watch out. The only thing he had ever managed to acquire was a small dictionary containing words of power, but perhaps out here in the middle of nowhere…

“Esoteric knowledge, exotic portraiture, erotic prose, we have it all. Come and buy, come and buy. You sir, yes you! You look like you might find this Tale of 69 (Small) Deaths a great way to take away the stress of the road.” The trader speaking looked as if he might blow away in a stiff breeze, being incredibly thin and wrapped in an oversized hooded robe that threatened to swallow him whole. All that could be seen were a pair of long-fingered hands, covered in ink stains.

Stavi was glad that he wasn’t the one being offered pornography, it would have been embarrassing if it was so obvious he was still a virgin. On the other hand, did he not even look adult enough to desire it?

Nevermind, keep yourself focused ya idiot.

“I’d be interested in seeing some of those esoteric works, if you don’t mind, Sahib.” Stavi’s voice caused the shadow-shrouded hood move in his direction, and a long-fingered hand to be raised as if beckoning him.

“Ah, a young scholar by the look of him. Are you headed to a Scholar in the City? I hate to offend with my meager offerings.” The words were jovial, but Stavi heard the unspoken subtext as if it were being shouted in his ears.

Ha! This guy is trying to find out if I am a student at a Scholae because he has some restricted works for sale. Excellent, an honest dishonest man is exactly what I was looking for…

“No, Sahib, I am afraid not. I am simply a self-taught man, and I am always looking for works to broaden my horizons.” Stavi spread his hands open as he said these words, trying to show that he was peaceful and simply looking to buy, not cause trouble.

A smile containing too many teeth, all of them yellowed, flashed inside the hood momentarily.

“Right this way, right this way. I have had a few things I have kept back, looking for the right buyer. Such things are hard to acquire, you know, and they must be held by those who appreciate them.”

Stavi followed the merchant deeper into his tent, weaving their way around several tall piles of books that had seen better days. Eventually they reached a dark corner in the back, and the merchant whipped a pile of scrolls and a dirty blanket off the top of a large chest. The young man was holding his breath in excitement, wondering what good things there might be inside.

Surely this man has something to sell, or he wouldn’t be making such a big deal out of this, right!?

The man moved to lift the lid, but it seemed like it might be stuck or rusted shut. He gestured with a hand, inviting Stavi to try and open it. The young man bent down and grasped the lid tightly in both hands and tried to heave up.

There was a shattering pain in his head as something heavy struck the back of his skull. And then, there was only darkness.