“Morven’s beauty is overwhelming, implicating, enrapturing.

It cannot be described using other terms, believe me, kind correspondents of the bulletin.

At the time of my stay in the town, being myself a student of the course at the initiation of the profession offered by the Academy of Bards, Poets and Visual Art, in order to receive the necessary qualification to exercise, I found myself over and over again on top of the immense bell tower of the Sanctuary of Morsode to stare at it. I stared at the city, not to be able to transpose it into oil and paint on canvas, or in charcoal on parchment, but in a disinterested, senseless, nihilistic way.

Observing all those lights and all those colours, hearing all those laughter of the carefree little ones and the continuous celebrations, was a panacea for the afflicted spirit of a painter with a cursed soul like me.

It is thanks to that sight and those sounds that I am still here today, at the ripe old age of seventy-seven.”

Wilhelm Kance, from Conversation with the oldest landscape painter of the Six Kingdoms, Bulletin of Morven, 1307 from the Convention of Five

“What do I think of Morven, you say? Do you take me for an idiot? That’s a garbage dump, what else? What would you like to call it?

Artists, nobles, rich people full of jewels. Was this why our fathers fought in the Great Trust Schism? No! They fought for equality, they gave their lives because we could all have equal opportunities and instead, we’re just the same stuff as those of the North!

Morven has always been the same of Aillte an Tine. Let those of the North take it, then! They are beasts who love the Divine Money and the Divine Drunkenness! May Aedan call all those damned Morvians back to him! “

Anonymous, Three hundredth town assembly of the principality of Metiwood, 1317 from the Convention of Five

ETHAN OF MORVEN

“So, you stayed, huh?” came a familiar voice.

Ethan wiped away his tears quickly and whirled around. He recognized Shinji.

The Nionreian still wore the reddish leather armour with the shoulder pad and arm of shiny steel. “Boy, I saw Deniz sneak away from the Drunk Tuna it was not even dawn. He was happy to have met me, so before leaving he could give me some tips. Besides, he left me your stuff. He already knew you would stay here. I already brought everything into my house. It is not the best, I warn you, but at least you will avoid sleeping under some bridge waiting for a racnide makes of you a roulade and devour you. Especially seen you left these in the cabin” he said, showing him the two blades covered by black leather that Ethan had left on Tiburon. “Idiot! You must always carry them with you, you never know what is around the corner, lurking and ready for a fight. Ah, wait… Well, there was this too. Deniz told me to give this to you personally as soon as I saw you. He said that you care disproportionately” said the Nionreian, this time handing him a large gold jewel in the shape of a crescent with the other hand.

Ethan grabbed the brooch first and placed it neatly safely in one of the pouches dangling from the strap. Then he took the swords and fastened them to his belt. “I left them in the cabin on purpose, I certainly wouldn’t smear them with the blood of some drunk idiot, that’s what my fists are for. I learned first-hand that it can be risky to find these in your hands at any time, especially on the streets of a city” he replied, pointing to the swords. Then he went on: “Thank you, anyway, Shinji. It’s a relief to know that I’m not alone in a kingdom that’s still completely unexplored to me. Above all, I’m happy that it’s you who are with me”.

“What do you thank for? If we are together, we can watch each other’s backs. Just like that time, remember? That time near Mite the sea raiders surrounded us with their caravels and the boarding platoons attacked us from all sides. Ah! Do you remember?”

“Yeah, of course I remember. I had just learned to hold a blade. All I was doing was swinging the sabre left and right in blind swings. Not even one, Shinji. I haven’t even caught one of the pirates! Of course I must have been laughable” Ethan replied, his mind returning to memories that were now far too distant from that present.

Shinji leaned on one of the squats, low stone mooring posts. He smoothed his own hair knotted at the nape of his neck, flattened and shiny on his head. He smiled for a moment. “You looked like a nasty saru.”

“A what?” asked Ethan puzzled, who settled in the same position as the Nionreian.

“A saru, a saru. Uhm... Wait. In the universal language, I guess saru is a… Nope, you don’t have a word for that animal here. A saru is a docile beast that sometimes moves on all fours and sometimes on two, half humanoid and as tall as a growing boy. Instead of feet, however, it has other hands. It is covered all over with long black or brown hairs, has eyes like those of men, as well as a muzzle, teeth, and tongue. And then it has these big protruding ears, which are really funny. They are also intelligent. Not as much as men, of course, but much more than other animals” the Nionreian explained, gesturing with his hands to accompany the words.

“Never heard of the presence of such beings in the Six Realms. Even in the bestiaries there’s no mention of similar creatures, otherwise I’d surely have read of them.”

“It is obvious that they do not exist here, there is no suitable climate. Although, perhaps, in that green enormity in the Southern Trust, they could exist. It is very hot there, is not it? Even humid and there are thick trees. The perfect place they like to live. And therefore, you would not have news of it because no one enters it or rather, none of those who enter it leaves it. That is what the rumours say, do not they?”

“No, it’s not as hot as you think, on the contrary. Southern Trust’s climate is generally that, hot and humid, but the further inland you go, the cooler and drier it becomes. The Whining Forest is what you call green hugeness, isn’t it? Well, let me tell you it seems to be anything but hot. And yes, the rumours say that way and they say it with good reasons because whole caravans of expeditioners and explorers have entered it and never left.”

“Maybe they were delighted with what they found in or beyond the forest and decided never to return.”

“Or maybe they ended up devoured by the Wild Ones, the Racnids, the Marrocs, the Badalisks or the Centicores. Do you see how many possibilities there are? They do have one thing in common, though. They’re repulsive monsters, all of them. The Wild Ones above all. They should be human, but the fact is that they eat their fellow men, drink their blood and dress in their bones. Repulsive, as I said you. The only certainty is that in the last twenty years alone, over forty caravans of overly curious pioneers have left Thallian, Metiwood and An Triad to explore that immense forest and none of them have returned.”

“Do you think that is the problem? The beasts?”

“Monsters, you mean.”

“For them we are the monsters. So, who is the monster? There are no monsters, only animals. We are animals and they are too. No monsters. Be that as it may, although you see them as repulsive creatures, I do not think you can imagine how much each of those beasts interest me. I have always loved creatures other than man since I was a child. They fascinate me, Ethan. I can only ask myself ‘And this? How did this come about and how did it become so damned suitable to live in this ungrateful environment?’. Sometimes it seems to me that nature, instead of being static and forcibly inducing only some animals to adapt to certain environments, has actually been created to adapt to beasts. They are perfect animals to survive in hostile environments that transform as if by witchcraft, becoming hospitable for them.”

“How you call them changes very little. Monsters or animals, they remain dangerous and disgusting creatures which no one would miss in case of extinction. Anyone, however, can think of it as they want and, given your passion, it’d be appropriate for you to read one of the tomes I had on Tiburon. It’s part of the advanced programs and was written by Bern Xern himself. He needed to name the monsters that Sir Sigmund Dughall killed to protect the innocents. The descriptions are detailed as it was necessary for the listener or reader to understand how repugnant certain creatures of ballads and poems could be. Many of those names were invented by that poet-squire. Anyway, if they dumped it along with my other stuff, it must be in your house. You can read it if you want.”

“I would be delighted.”

The merchant replied with a smile to the slightly tight smile of the Nionreiano. “And now, let’s move on to something that interests me. I haven’t had a chance to ask you yet, Shinji. What are you doing here in Garatier, specifically?”

“A little bit of this, a little bit of that, boy, as usual. Do we want to go? My ass is becoming flat against this piece of rock.”

“Shinji, specifically” Ethan said firmly, accepting the Nionreian’s latest proposal.

“Inquisitive as ever” he replied evidently annoyed, maintaining his stiff posture.

“What can I do about it? Each has its own nature, and this is mine. You like beast stories. I like other people’s stories” Ethan replied with a shrug.

“I was hoping this time would not come, at least not now. It is too early” the Nionreian said, taking his gaze to the blue sky that seemed fused with the sea.

“Do I have to worry that you’re here to… I don’t know, to kill King Theophane?” Ethan smiled and nudged him lightly.

Shinji remained impassive, cold, and aloof as he used to do most of the time. “If only it had been for that.”

“Come on, Nionreian. Are you going to talk or not? You know that curiosity consumes me.”

“It is too early now. It takes time, it needs explanations. It would have been better if you had left with the old man to see us again in a couple of months” he said softly. Then he went on: “It is a long story, boy. I do not want to stay here to bore you”.

“I’m all ears and I don’t lack time. Of course, I should take a tour of the city to find out how to survive Garatier, but that can also wait a couple of hours.”

“Damn you” he said and continued to swear. “Come on, Ethan, let’s talk over a mug, I don’t have the heart to do it while sober.”

-

The Nionreian’s house was in the Popular District, a few minutes’ walk from the Merchants’ District.

The house had only the ground floor, the interior walls painted in a childish way of blue skies and white clouds. Although it was not very spacious, it had a large garden in which there was a tree with large black branches. On it, here and there small green leaves and, above all, in contrast with the dark wood of the trunk, many bright flowers forming a cloud of small blue petals that gradually broke away with the breeze but instead of getting stuck on the roots, they scattered gracefully in the wind.

Ethan remembered that long time before the Nionreian had spoken of some sapphire rain coming from a tree, and now he could understand what he meant then.

At the base of the trunk there was white sand organized in circular designs that reminded the merchant of the concentric waves generated by a pebble thrown on the flat surface of a lake.

He had never seen such a garden, nor that type of tree, and much less that sand that seemed to be thrown there as if ready to be illuminated by the artificial light of a lost spell.

In a corner of the house he noticed, stacked, some clothes, all the tomes and parchments he had left on board the ship. The disordered and confused stories that told of adventures that were still not very famous but which he was convinced would one day compete with those of Sir Sigmund Dughall. The Adventures of the Tiburon, Ethan, Deniz and all his friends: The Ethan Tales. So, he decided he would call them, but not because they were his personal adventures, but rather because he would be the narrator.

“Do you like it? It is called jacaranda and it is very rare around here” Shinji said, pointing to the unusual tree. “Even if minimally, I tried to create a small reproduction of what was my home in Nionrei, of how I remembered it. I have not been very successful, unfortunately” he went on nostalgically. The sad gaze fixed on the two mugs into which he was pouring a whitish concoction from a red clay jug. He handed one to Ethan and asked for a toast.

Ethan sniffed and the alcoholic gas that penetrated his nostrils made his eye water. After a moment of hesitation, he shrugged and drank vigorously. He did not recognize the taste, not even a single ingredient. So, is this what they get drunk on in Nionrei? He asked himself. “Thanks, Shinji. How about starting?”

“Yeah, yeah boy, with due calm though since the subject is weighty. So why not start from the beginning? Not from my principle, from ours. Since we met, I mean, the wrecked ship where you fished me out. Do you remember? That shipwreck I have told you about countless times. That… was not a shipwreck due to bad weather as I told you and as I myself believed. We have been attacked, Ethan” he said, plucking almost the entire mug. He was serious and unperturbed, even more than his usual.

“Attacked? Was it the merfolk? The pirates? Maybe some privateers from Deneste Gudsby patrolling for the Unified Kingdoms of Kaltheimr? Not recognizing your banners, they’ll have decided to attack. After all, even if they serve the King of kings in the North, they too are nothing more than pirates.”

“No, boy, no. It was not the pirates, nor the fish-men. Even if I tried to explain it to you, I think you would not be able to understand. I do not know if you are ready to know certain truths. It is too early.”

“Try it, Shinji. You’re my sword master. Indeed, you’re more than that. You’re like a brother. Your word for me has always had an important weight and still has. You know this and so try, don’t be wary.”

“Butagou!” he exclaimed loudly.

Ethan didn’t understand but guessed it thinking it was some kind of swearword in Nionrei’s native language.

“We have been attacked, boy… with Mahoshi. And not a simple form of elemental magic. It was something arcane, dark, and lost over the centuries.”

“Magic, Shinji? Are you serious about this again? Here the magic no longer exists, you should know by now”, Ethan said impatiently.

The merchant suffered terribly from the absence of magic, or Mahoshi in Nionrei’s native language. Magic for a man with a curiosity like his would have been an excellent ground for exploration and continuous discovery and, instead, the ignorants of the past had eradicated it from the Six Realms.

Ethan was one of the few left to believe it was a gift from the Divines, not a curse from the Plagues. He was convinced that the truth about the events that led to the extinction of wizards lay in the thirst for power that some nobles, not endowed with the magical heiress component – the Magical Sparkle - felt. A thirst that drove them to fear who were stronger than them and their riches: the uncontrollable and unpredictable magicians.

“Still, that is what I saw. Still, that is what happened just an inch from my nose. Let me tell you, Ethan.

“We had set sail very quickly from the Torii Rock, an arch of rock that emerged from the seas a few leagues from Nionrei, and there were ten of us on that boat. Seven students of Masuzhu, practitioners of Ramashi, and three scholars of Mahoshi, direct acolytes of the Grand Master Ryozet. We were the best of our generation, leaving quickly and secretly with a very specific purpose.

“I will avoid all the ugly details of the cursed crossing. The fact is that after months on the ship, we had recently crossed the Bakkin Rift, escaping the myriad of traps inside thanks to the magical barriers of the Grand Master’s acolytes. We were in what I later discovered was the Eastern Great Sea, a few days off the coast of Mitoros, where you said you found me.

“That summer morning the sun was particularly hot, it seemed to melt our skin, believe me. Out of nowhere we saw a huge scarlet lightning strike the sky right above us. Yes, that is right, Ethan, do not make that face and do not try to interrupt me. I repeat, it was the lightning that hit the sky. It did not descend, it ascended obliquely from a place to the west, from the Southern Trust probably, but I still do not know exactly from where, as we were surrounded by nothing but the sea for many leagues and the lighting flash had started from a far point, far beyond the horizon. The roar that followed made the sea and the entire ship vibrate.

“From whom knows where big black clouds formed in the blink of an eye above the boat. Why are you smiling? Does that sound like a joke? Listen, rather. Ready, the three acolytes started with their spells to protect it, but it was all in vain. All in vain, boy. Another gigantic lightning flash fell dry on the mainmast, tearing the magic barrier like butter and tearing the hull to pieces. A normal lightning bolt cannot thus crush a magical barrier, especially if it is supported by three acolytes. Believe me, it is just not possible. The fact is that after that first lightning bolt, only chaos. Then the emptiness until I found myself with a broken mind on the Tiburon, surrounded by all of you.”

“Shinji,” Ethan called, initially baffled, trying to maintain the necessary decorum so as not to treat him like a madman. “Are you done, finally? Listen to me instead. You’re not talking to the last of the comers, I’ll be even younger than you, but I’ve sailed for fifteen years in all four of the Great Seas. It’s not uncommon for storms to form quickly and affect everything they find on the surface of the sea”, he said dryly, stroking his mug.

“But are you listening to me, boy? Did not you hear the whole part of the crimson lightning breaking through the magical barrier?” The Nionreian asked, pointing at him the small black eyes which, despite being wide open, remained two razor blades.

“Yeah, I did. I was trying to ignore it because as I told you, magic hasn’t existed here for over seven centuries. That blow must have really messed up your mind”, Ethan retorted, taking the red pitcher on his own initiative and refilling the cup with that whitish liqueur he had particularly enjoyed.

“It was magic, I told you, Ethan. I have had the opportunity to learn more about it over the years.”

“Help me understand, then, convince me you are telling the truth.” He quietly sipped the unknown thick liquid, but his eyes were on Shinji with bewilderment.

“When you left me in Mitoros five years ago, it obviously was not long before the people of the Empire noticed how different my features and skin were from theirs. My sharper eyes, my skin far too light compared to that of the imperials, well browned by the sun. However, instead of being imprisoned, as I had widely predicted would happen, I was summoned to the court of Kalef VII, in Al-Fedar. At the Emperor’s court, do you understand? He is a curious man, you know.

“He wanted to know my story, a story that I myself had forgotten, however, precisely because of that blow to the head you mentioned.

“For more than a year we spent hours and hours discussing the most disparate issues and, in the meantime, day after day and without even knowing how, I found pieces of myself that I had lost on that destroyed boat. I remembered what had happened even before leaving the coast of Nionrei, events that I had completely removed and that it would have been better not to remember, despite their importance. The fact is that when I expressed my fears to Kalef about Mahoshi, he immediately followed me. ‘How can he listen to me like that?’ I wondered because, just like you, he should have been convinced that magic was extinct, especially since what happened at the Four Fires of Al-Fedar was one of the first acts on the throne of his old ancestor, Mehekmed.

“Instead, he told me how his father had begun research into it because he was convinced that magic still lurks everywhere in the Six Kingdoms, even though it no longer shows itself in the eyes of men. Research that Kalef had resumed and whose results, although limited, had been perfectly matched with what had happened to me and with what had, according to him, already happened to hundreds of ships at sea or entire convoys in the hinterland of the Continent. He has therefore decided to send me here on a mission to continue investigating on behalf of the Empire as he cannot publicly expose himself to such matters. However, I used this influence to pursue my personal purpose.”

Ethan drank, took a deep breath, and drank again. “Shinji, I know of magic”, he finally said after reflective moments long as hours. “But it’s magic of merfolk and other beings like theriomorphs or cenocrocs. Some of these I’ve seen with my own eyes, but it’s not elemental and destructive like the one that man used in the past, I’d rather call it a kind of illusive ability that they have developed physiologically by evolving over the millennia. Aside from the fact that human magic disappeared from the entire Continent centuries ago, not even in ancient legends I’ve ever heard of a Mahoshi, as you call it, capable of subverting the laws of nature itself.” He drank until the mug was empty, then turned to Shinji, waiting for the Nionreian to do the same so that he could meet his eyes and try to grasp the truth. “What happened to Nionrei that prompted you to leave it? Why are you here, Shinji? Do you really want me to drink Kalef’s mission story? What’s a man with the strength to cross the Bakkin Rift intact doing in this city?” Ethan asked, looking peremptorily with his bright amber eyes those of the Nionreian, cut like the edge of a black steel blade.

For a moment, a fire seemed to break out from the sparks of visual contrast. Or perhaps it was the sun, which freed itself from the captivity of the clouds, had just entered the room?

“I cannot tell you about it for now, boy. You are not ready, and I am not too. I will, but not now. I first need to find courage and advise myself with a person who certainly can understand better than me.”

Ethan gave up without trying to fight further and in vain. He knew the Nionreian and his tendency to speak in enigmas or in an absolutely incomprehensible way to others who did not have the same knowledge as him.

A waste of time come here, that’s what, he thought as he decided that he would wait for the right moment when his friend himself would be willing to tell him his delusional stories. “Right”, he said with a rather artificial smile. “The usual mysterious stranger from the island that doesn’t exist.”

“It existed” Shinji said with an increasingly nostalgic look. “And it was as beautiful as a thousand Garatier combined. Ah! If only you could see it… Anyway, I have to ask you a favor, boy.”

“Tell me, then.”

“Watch out on the streets of Garatier. Not everything is as it seems in this city, not even the citizens. There are wolves wearing sheep’s furs.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you must always be on the lookout and that perhaps the Emperor is not entirely wrong in being so paranoid. You should be able to defend yourself easily, right? After all, you are the Blue Demon. Perhaps, however, the future could serve you even more extraordinary surprises” he said, slightly hinting at a mischievous smile, which was rare for the Nionreian but one that Ethan had seen more than once recently.

“And how do you know… How do you know that damn name, Shinji? Tell me right now!”

“I think I heard a ballad about that story, even though it was not very good. If I remember correctly, it was titled The Tiburon and the Golden Horn, but I am not sure. A man from Aonghastad wrote it, I think. A certain Ulfr Bjarkesson, I believe. The bottom line is that you have to be careful when your folks get drunk in inns if you want certain things to remain secret. Otherwise, the rumours will run.” He was still smiling, a shrewd and almost certainly false smile because Ethan knew it was not the Nionreian’s habit to smile, not so much at least, and certainly not the Nionreian he’d met nearly a decade earlier.

“I’ll have to outrun them, then” Ethan began quickly in an attempt to avoid the risk, albeit minimal, that in addition to the old Fiskereik story, others would turn up that had marked him even more deeply. “Well, I’d say it’s time I go because I’ve to explore this city I don’t know yet, to understand how I can make some coins. Speaking of coins, I’ve something aside. So, don’t feel sorry for me these days, understood? I prefer to take my space for some time. I hope you understand I’ve to get used to no longer having the constant company of thirty sweaty sailors.”

“It is not good, and I do not understand. You cannot be angry just because I dodged a speech that interests you. I have other important things to discuss. I have not even started, you understand?”

“It’ll be for another time”, tried to cut short Ethan, who had no intention of listening to other stories. He wanted to get rid of him as quickly as possible, that friend… No, that stranger.

“Whichever way you like Ethan, but this talk will have to be over sooner or later. I understood some things, I have connected some pieces and I need you to know, but only when the time comes. If you ever need help in these days, you will find me here or at the Mad Rat, a rather famous little inn in the Popular District” Shinji concluded, returning to being the usual cold Shinji.

Ethan took his leave hastily but respectfully after pointing out the bestiary to the Nionreian, as promised. He had also changed his shirt to wear a nearly identical one, also made of white cotton.

He began to walk and explore.