(Ten years ago)

14th day of the 9th month 640th year of the 8th era

A priestess hummed as she performed the vigil. She had been tasked to watch the seal gems. This had been her duty for several years now; since the first one fell forty years ago, a watch had been set. She sat on the ground and repositioned herself for another long day of meditating. She took one more look about the empty hall and sighed to herself. Convinced that the room was empty, she checked the gems once again. Light flared from the seal gems and then a second gem went dark. She furrowed her brows and checked again; the second gem was certainly out. She sighed and contemplated: should she get up and inform Mistress Bethany now or after she finished her meditation? Duty won and she strode out of the room, her shoes clicking on the stone floor. She walked down the dormitory to Mistress Bethany’s room and knocked on the door.

“Come in,” came the response.

After she pushed open the door and stepped inside, the door closed behind her with a soft click.

Mistress Bethany was a serene matron with greying hair and the beginning of a few worry lines. She sat behind a simple wooden desk with a quill and several small stacks of paper sitting on the small table. She continued writing, her quill scratching on the paper. She looked up as the door closed.

“Novice Zara, what are you doing here?”

“Reporting as ordered,” Zara spoke. “The second seal has fallen.”

Mistress Bethany nodded. “Which one was it?”

“The Seal of Lies.”

“Thank you, Zara. You may return to your duties.”

Zara bowed, turned, and left.

Mistress Bethany leaned into her desk and opened the bottom drawer. She lifted the few personal items she could keep: a leather-bound diary and a small portrait of her parents. She set them on the desk then reached into the drawer again. She stuck her finger in a small hole in the back and pulled out the false bottom. Inside was a leather binder that had, ‘In case of the next seal falling’ written in large print on the front. She opened the envelope and two pages were inside. Bethany looked again. Under the leather binder was a small metal dagger.

“I thought there would be more,” she muttered to herself.

She scanned down the page and found the entry for ‘Lies’. It read –

‘Lies: the heart of men will start to stray from the light of the truth. Double the preachers and spread them out over the world.’

Mistress Bethany then turned to the second page: it was blank. Bethany frowned. This is all the information that I have? How am I to know what to do? Bethany closed her eyes and prayed; in her prayer a memory came to her. Mother Superior Clair sat behind the desk, and beckoned her over.

“If you need to read something on paper and there is no text,” Clair said, as she took out a small dagger and pricked her finger, “a little blood on the page will reveal its secrets.”

“How do you write so that it can’t be seen?” Bethany asked.

“That is a secret for the orders,” Clair said in a hushed tone.

Bethany opened her eyes and reached into the drawer and pulled out the dagger and pricked her finger. She smeared her blood over the page, spreading it out to every corner of the page new words began to form on the page the blood as ink. Bethany’s eyes widened as she read them.

***

2nd day of the 3rd month 650th year of the 8th era (Present day)

As Araki strode onto the ship’s gangplank, the boards creaked and groaned under his steps. A dark-skinned, lean, middle-aged man dressed in a dark black jacket and pants waited for him on the ship. At the top, he saluted Araki and then extended his hand.

“Welcome aboard the Fleur de Lis,” he said, pumping Araki’s hand.

“Thank you,” Araki said.

“Let me show you to your bunk. Your mother has already arranged your room.”

Araki nodded and followed him. The ship’s bell rang out three crisp clear tones.

They walked up a set of stairs and approached a set of doors with bronze handles. When the door opened with a slight creak, they entered a dimly lit corridor. At the end of the corridor was a door; a light flickered underneath the door.

“That is the captain’s quarters,” the man explained. “Your quarters are here.” He pushed open a door on his right.

Araki stepped inside and looked around the room. It had a small table and chair made of rough wood up against the far wall and a single white hammock hung in the middle of the room. Araki placed his small knapsack of belongings on the table. He noticed the walls were rough and a little paint was peeling. He picked up the faint smell of freshly-applied pitch.

“Now that you are settled in, the captain would like to meet you,” the man said.

Araki nodded and followed the man to the end of the corridor. The man pushed open the door. Araki saw the room was ornately appointed, a weathered desk and chair in the middle, while against one wall was an old and faded orange sofa. A heavy wooden door on the far side of the room opened. A woman in black slacks and a white shirt came out. The open-fronted shirt did nothing to hide her doughy body. The woman had pointed ears, a firm strong jaw with a pointed nose, and her hair was brown with streaks of gray indicating her advanced age. Her piercing green eyes sparkled with life and humour.

“Captain, this is our guest, Baronet Araki Rosethorn.”

“Thank you, Gazali.” She smiled at him. “Welcome aboard, Baron Araki.”

“Please just call me Araki.” He smiled and extended his hand.

“Thank you,” she said, as she took his hand and quickly pumped it. “I am Metilia. Please take a seat.”

Araki let go of her hand and took a seat on the sofa. Gazali took a seat next to him.

“Your grandmother booked passage with us to the city of Ishtaree,” Metilia said, as she sat behind the desk.

“Yes, is that going to be a problem?”

“No problem. We normally take passengers to Fort Northern Wiles. Your grandmother paid a large sum to divert us off our normal route.”

“I am sorry to cause inconvenience.”

“Don’t think of it,” Metilia said, waving it aside with her hand. “She is our friend. We would have done it if she had just asked. She also made a rather odd request that if possible, we take you up the river to Ashford.”

“Hmm,” Araki said, biting his lower lip. “I thought the plan was to take a barge up the river. Can you take me upriver?”

Metilia sighed. “No. I have been going over the charts of the river and have discovered that the river is too shallow in many places for this ship. So, we will have to leave you at Ishtaree. We will refund to you the rest of your grandmother’s money to you.”

Araki chuckled. “I think that was the plan all along.”

Metilia nodded. “She also made one final request: that we teach you how to use your grandfather’s sword. Is that it?”

“Yes.” Araki stood, drew the sword, and placed it on the table in front of Metilia.

She frowned. “I seem to remember it being a lot bigger. It is very beautiful.” She waved her hand for Araki to return the sword.

Araki sheathed his sword.

“Now that you are aboard, we will cast off and be underway. Gazali will train you how to use a sword tomorrow.”

“Thank you.”

Gazali stood and escorted Araki back to his room.

***

Araki sat on a horse. The sweat of the horse was overpowering, a musty, almost pleasant odour. He squinted into the distance. The darkness was broken by the light of the stars ahead of him. He could see the enemy camp in the distance, their campfires spread out over the plain. He turned and returned to his company.

Everything went black and then he was standing in a dark room, where the bones of a skeleton lay shattered at his feet. Torchlight flickered, and he turned. A naked woman with green hair was holding a torch in one hand and a large mace in her the other. She smiled at him and he turned back to the room before him. The stench of death was everywhere. He knew he was close; only a necromancer would live amongst so much death.

Everything went black and then his eyes cleared and he stood under the scorching sun. He raised his arms to block the sun from his eyes as he looked down at the oasis below in the valley.

A loud knock echoed across the valley, followed by a shaking feeling and a sensation of falling.

***

He woke as he hit the wooden floor of the ship. Standing over him was an elf, her face shadowed by the low moonlight coming in through the open porthole.

“Who are you?” she demanded.

“I was going to ask you the same thing.” Araki stood. The elf fell back several steps. She braced herself against the wall.

The elf was as tall as him and her features were ageless yet sorrowed at the same time. Her pointed nose and ears cast long shadows over her face.

“This room is normally empty,” she slurred.

“I am the passenger. This room was assigned to me, by the captain,” Araki said, squinting into the darkness.

The sadness deepened in a wrinkle around her face.

“My daughter normally leaves this room empty for me.”

The ship pitched in the night and the elf staggered across the room towards another wall. Araki rode out the pitch, bracing it with his legs.

“You can’t be the captain’s mother; she is my grandmother’s friend. You look far too young; you look younger than me.”

“Who is your grandmother?” the elf demanded, stepping forward. The shadows across her face lengthened as she blocked the light coming in from the open porthole.

“My grandmother is Irrawella Rosethorn.”

The elf backed off and turned to face the wall. “Irrawella married Tunio, but her first child was a deformity. Who was your mother?”

“How do you know my grandmother?”

The elf turned to face him again and grabbed his shirt, her body pressing against his. He could smell her breath. It reeked of ale and whiskey. “I am asking the questions here,” she spat.

Araki grabbed the elf’s bare arms and pushed her back from him. The ship pitched again and the elf stumbled, falling to the floor with a dull thud. She tried to rise again, but the ship swayed, and she fell back to the floor.

Araki went to her and checked to see if she was still alive. He lifted her up and pulled the chair out from underneath the table and sat her down in it.

“Thank you.”

“I think you have been drinking,” Araki said, holding her on the chair as the ship lurched again. He looked down at the elf. Her skin was clear, and she was naked except for a faded knee-length green skirt.

She smiled up at him. “Yep, I have been drinking.”

“Who are you?”

“I am the ship’s drunk,” the elf giggled.

“What is your name?” Araki demanded.

“I am Aquillia Fidelis, mother to the captain, at your service.” She tried to execute a mock bow, but the ship pitched again and she fell against Araki’s arms.

“How can you be the mother to the captain? She looks much older than you.”

“That is my great sadness. I will have to bury her, my only child.” A tear trickled down her face.

“How do you know my grandmother?” Araki demanded, returning the conversation to his grandmother.

“Who is your grandmother?” Aquillia slurred, staring up into Araki’s face.

“Irrawella Rosethorn,” he told her again.

“I knew two Rosethorns well. Neither of them was an Irrawella.”

“Whom did you know?”

“I knew an Akuchi. He was fun.” She looked up at Araki, a smile crossing her face. “Are you fun, too?”

“I will try to be.”

The ship pitched and as the light grew in the room, Araki could see Aquillia clearly. Her green skin shone in the moonlight and her eyes sparkled blue. He noticed her small and perky breasts as she rested in the chair against the wall.

“The other I knew was a Tunio. Akuchi’s son.” She looked deeply into Araki’s eyes. “You look like Akuchi.”

“Thank you,” Araki sighed. “My grandmother was married to Tunio Rosethorn.”

“Yes, her first-born had a deformity. Are you sure your grandmother was Irrawella?”

“Positive.”

“I couldn’t understand what happened to her child. My own daughter’s child died in childbirth and it ruined her relationship with her husband.”

“I am so sorry,” sighed Araki. “Can we get back to my grandmother’s first child.”

“Don’t worry, I heard he lived a happy life.”

“Do you know what his name was?”

“They called him Mulgooma.”

“That is my father.”

She looked up at Araki and started laughing.

“What is so funny?”

She kept laughing and then fell out of the chair and landed on the floor and started snoring.

Araki checked to make sure she was breathing fine and then climbed back into the hammock and closed his eyes, falling back into a deep sleep.

A man’s heart is fickle,

true must a man’s heart be

to wield the spirit.

Honour and glory

reveal the soul.

Remain true to your word

and see glory.

The words echoed into his head in a deep bass voice. Araki opened his eyes and looked about the room.

A king stays with a lie.

Two voices echoed inside his head, one bass and the other a richer baritone.

Lies destroy the heart and mind,

Truth frees the soul,

Honesty shall humble you.

Gains shall follow

Return to truth,

Separate truth from lie.

The sword divides,

Truth sets the captives free.

The baritone finished. Araki climbed out of his bed and grabbed his sword off the table.

“Alright, come out whoever you are.”

He paced the room and stopped, standing over the elf on the floor.

“I am not afraid of you.”

Don’t worry, boy, you have nothing to fear from us we will help you. Now put us down and go back to bed, the baritone voice soothed.

Araki stepped back and dropped the sword.

It was too soon, the bass voice responded with a slight chuckle. We should have waited until he was more settled.

Araki picked up the sword and placed it back on the table.

“Who are you?”

Do not concern yourself with how but your blood is stronger than your grandfather’s, the bass voice said.

It’s odd we didn’t meet her son, said the baritone voice.

He wasn’t anything special, the bass voice replied. I think he might have been a little weak. The image of his father is one that is very small. I doubt he could have even lifted us much less added strength to us.

“What do you want with me?”

Nothing. We will guide you, the bass voice placated. Just remember the words.

“What were they again?”

The voices repeated the verse in their sing song pattern.

“Thank you,” murmured Araki. Just yesterday I wanted to help Granny in a simple diplomatic mission now I have a talking sword and a half-naked elf sleeping on my floor. I think this mission might be a lot more interesting than I first thought.

Araki smiled, closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.