Lure O' War (The Old Realms)

The righteous girl can choose to be a Miko Sohei.

A Shrine-maiden monk.

A Miko cannot be a consort or a common Ashigaru (foot soldier).

She won't live in your barracks or your palaces like another trophy.

She won't indulge in pleasures of the flesh. Not even the sun's tender touch is permitted.

Thus, the diligent Miko Sohei of the Temple, shall only be your Nina Musha.

-

Miko Sohei, Miyashiro Ayumi,

Founder of the Nina Musha Order

Around 75 IC*** (First Era)

Based on Ancient Sacred Texts of the Cofol, partially surviving in the Yon-Simun Fort.

Here, Priestess Miyashiro's famed response to Bakufu Segun Zemim*, when the latter asked for the Shrine Maidens to serve in his army.

------------------------------------------

*Zemim, was the last leader of all Daimyo Segun**, in the lost island continent of Tull Cautara-Magor.

**A member of Cofol race's almost extinct warrior caste*

***Archaic Zilan texts –credited to Aniculo Rokae Shaelor, describe the three completely distinct Cofol group of peoples, as the Segun or 'Swordmasters of the mountain fortress of Cautara', the 'Merchants of the Gilded Coast' -aka the merchants & explorers of the rich Cofol cities dealing in Gems, Spice and Redleaf (Lai, Que and Ani), and finally, the Slavers of the Gulf of Fire, and the city of DeGar.

-

Miko Sohei Akira

Nina Musha

Part I

-Have a safe journey-

Ancient small port of the Magor parish,

Cautara Gulf (overlooking the Mori Chai & Nasar Lasse Fields)

North Haze Sea

Greenwhale Peninsula

Segun Atrusim's Pagoda

Winter of 195 NC

Phon-Iv Sopat stood on his gilded cane, its handle adorned with three large gems, in order to rest his legs. The absence of chairs had forced them to remain standing. After adjusting his stance the Master Merchant signed for his slave Foreal to come forward with the large box and place it before Sesei Segun Atrusim. The General sat on the wooden floor cross-legged. This was the raised 'yuka' portion of his estate. The front and up to the doors portion of the building had no flooring but hard packed earth and was called a 'doma'. The merchant's entourage had removed their shoes and left them near the small stairs before entering 'Yuka', what was a large living room effectively.

The main building of the estate, plus the adjoining workshops and buildings with the lands surrounding them was called a Daimyo. Which meant a holding in a sense, but used to refer to a much bigger tittle in antiquity.

"My wife Mesi-Nasar packed some scented chamomile," Phon-Iv explained to the sober Cofols facing him. Segun Daichim sitting next to Atrusim, with his daughter Kana and son Uramosim standing behind him. Rena was standing behind her own father and Akira to Kana's left side. Uramosim and Kana were like half-siblings to her, as Daichim had taken Akira in after her parents were killed by a Northern Horselord war party when Akira was still a baby. "Necklaces for the girls… ehem, the Nina-Musha, well then… some excellent hashish, Red-Leaf cubes obviously, also three Lu-ViLon bags and two thousand gold Dinar as compensation."

Atrusim stooped forward.

"Sesei Segun," Daichim started pausing strategically to stress out Phon-Iv who grimaced nervously. "Asks."

"Go ahead…yes?"

"Compensation," Atrusim finally said simply. The less you speak, the less the evil deities are tempted with you. Sometimes this had the opposite effect and other times Akira had trouble keeping her thoughts to herself.

"Ahm… for Chubin Amin… late Abadaim's sacrifice," Phon-Iv explained, touches of grey escaping his painted hair at the temples and looking older despite the heavy makeup he and all of his entourage had on.

Atrusim whispered to Daichim something and he nodded. "Sesei Segun," he started in his typical very gruff and angry manner, pausing abruptly again to give time to Phon-Iv to consider the error of his ways. "Says."

"Coins don't bring back the dead," Atrusim announced to the dumbfounded Phon-Iv.

"Absolutely… they don't. Such an injustice to us richer folk," Phon-Iv crooked his mouth and glanced annoyed to his advisors. "It's a gift… to help repair… Magor. This great domo needs a touch of loving."

"Sesei Segun," Daichim barked, but Atrusim stopped him with a calm gesture.

"When its time comes, this house will be torn down, and rebuild again. It won't be love, but much honest effort that'll do it," he told the grimacing merchant lord.

"Apologies. I wasn't trying to insult you," Phon-Iv grunted.

"An insult hurled by mistake," Atrusim cautioned him. "Hurts equally, but doesn't leave a bad taste in ones' mouth."

Phon-Iv stood back sucking at his teeth and then exhaled.

"The bags are square?" Rena asked in a lighter manner, as it was her duty to make their guests feel more comfortable given her age.

"Ros Lu-ViLon can explain it best," a distressed Phon-Iv murmured and a perfumed Cofol with rich green and gold robes bowed.

"They are perfect for the female adventurer," the merchant explained. "Soft leather, the insides dressed in silk with many pockets to discreetly house the daring female's intimate undergarments."

"What's that?" Rena teased and her father cast his sober disapproving eyes on her.

"I can showcase," Lu ViLon replied readily with a sign for one of the female slaves standing behind Foreal to unclothe herself to her tiny panties.

"How do you keep them on?" Rena asked the slave confused.

"Don't answer that Sarena," Phon-Iv intervened with a leer, recovering some of his wit. "I'm a married man trying to abstain from lustful thoughts per my Dottore's orders."

Ros Lu ViLon gestured for pretty Sarena to clothe herself again. Atrusim after exhaling and maintaining his sober expression, raised his left arm to scratch at the forearm with the other hand's fingers. A sign that the conversation was useless and he would be better off scratching himself alike a dog covered in lice.

"Prince Atpa left Rin An-Pur," Phon-Iv blurted out quickly, as he was intimate with the local Cofols adherence to silliness. "The Army of the Dessert is rumored to converge at Shao Na-Lan."

"Why not keep control of the capital?" Daichim asked and Kana grinned with Rena's funny face at the mention of the unmarried Prince.

"Atpa doesn't want to lose access to the desert and Shao Na-Lan. It's his city, where all his close allies reside," Phon-Iv replied. "He doesn't trust the Forya Rohir not to flank his north borders and doesn't want to get boxed in without the ability to maneuver. The Steppe and the Desert are always disputed, war bands roam the lands. In a bizarre sense it's a more difficult border to launch a surprise assault from, on top of its sheer size. For you can only aim for one city."

"Yin Xi-Yan," Daichim woofed.

Phon-Iv blinked taken aback momentarily. "Yes. Of course Atpa doesn't control it."

Yet, Akira thought.

"The Khan is in Rida," Atrusim noted.

"Some part of him," Phon-Iv replied making a face. "Even so, Burzin has made it known he doesn't want Atpa to take the throne according to his advisors and most witnesses."

"How is a mindless child better to rule, instead of a snake?" Atrusim asked.

"I could offer some other excuse here, but the truth is Burzin really doesn't like Atpa."

"Quite uncommon, even for a vile man to loathe his own offspring," Daichim noted.

"He might have turned senile in his later years. Anyways, Sam Phanti, Tahu-Nefer and Osase have formed a trinity of advisors that wishes to enforce the Khan's will, after Besa-Nafi's untimely demise in Jelin," Phon-Iv elaborated. "They have to. If Atpa takes the throne he'll kill everyone with any chance of challenging him. He started early trying to neutralize late Prince Nout's daughter. Even proposed to the Toka to remarry his widow, which would have been a death sentence for the young girl."

"This is bad for you," Atrusim noted.

"I do have a deal with Prince Atpa. We all have," Phon-Iv replied deictically. "But, I reached out to Sam Phanti. If Burzin dies and he will at some point, then we might need to speak with the men left back to handle his wishes. Tsuparin has the bigger problem since he favors Atpa and has already supported most of his decisions. This puts him again in the spotlight."

Daichim cast a side glance at the old general and Atrusim returned it in silence.

"If you help Atpa and he loses, you must pray for Burzin to die early and hope Sam Phanti or late Letakin's daughter is more merciful than everyone else was to her family and titles. Even you Lord Sopat, for you easily signed off her city to the Zilan. If you don't, and the Prince is somehow the one that takes the throne, then all this cultivated relationship and profitable trade relations, would have been for naught," Daichim told the frowned Phon-Iv.

"Atpa won't risk opening another front," the Lai Zel-Ka merchant lord argued.

"Yet you worry that a repeat of your victory might not be feasible this time," Daichim pointed out. "Your sister is dead, her daughter not yet political or easy to control from afar and the King of the Zilan, who is your biggest card in this power struggle, might eventually succumb to other temptations."

"I can use the Chiliad and the Three Sisters are much more militarized than before," a miffed Phon-Iv countered.

"Two Sisters," Atrusim noted gruffly. "Ani Ta-Ne as I said, the wyvern controls."

Kana entered her Spartan quarters and walked slowly on the rattan surface wearing her soft moccasins. The deerskin shoes making no noise. She stood watch while Akira stretched on the floor next to her Naginata. Akira's legs now split to create a ninety degree angle with her upright torso had the length of the long weapon she had placed on the floor.

"Your tea is getting cold," her half-sister noticed and Akira stabbed the staff-sword down to use it as lever to rise, feeling the burn on her hips and arms.

"I said my prayers," Akira replied and stared in Kana's unpainted face. Her half-sister smiled. "What else did they say?"

"How should I know?" Kana taunted.

"You eavesdrop," Akira deadpanned.

"Atrusim wants you on Sopat's ship," Kana said in a whisper. "It'll stop at Lai Zel-Ka, turn Mist's Cries Coast point and then bring you to Ani Ta-Ne. You'll board another ship there out of Rain Minas that works for the Viceroy, cross Wetull's Straits and enter the Torn Earth Channel, where you'll briefly stop at Nyomel."

"Is it Nyomel from the tales?" Akira asked a little tensed at the worrying news.

"My erudite little sister. Aye. The same old port under Turlas Peak, north of Nesande's Garden, now a ruin," Kana replied and added. "From there you'll journey through Serpent's Canal and either disembark there to continue on foot, or brave another long sea journey to Hardir's Port."

"Why? Years have gone by and King Garth hasn't asked us for anything?" Akira probed.

"Politics. Atrusim fears the Sopat might fail to entice the Wyvern Lord and hopes we could renew the Shaelor and Gilvaris accords."

"If it's a union we seek," Akira said standing back in her attempt to breathe. "Then perhaps Rena would have been the obvious choice. I'm a Priestess of Light. It's not allowed."

"You are also a Nina Musha," Kana reminded her and Akira puffed out.

"Garth has no use of another warrior," Akira argued and stopped as Segun Daichim, followed by Uramosim, entered her quarters inside the Domo.

"Abadaim told me he offered Rena and the Sesei Segun agreed. Let's not fool ourselves. The girl has no head for weapons or religion, but she could serve as a consort," Daichim told them, as he'd probably stood outside to listen to their conversation before entering via the open door. "But Garth refused and asked for Akira personally. How he knew you can't decline, we don't know. Hold your thoughts," Daichim continued, seeing Akira's almost violent reaction at the news. "The Wyvern Lord seeks a teacher for his young daughter, for he fears the Cofols of Trade and the Zilan in his court might strip her from any semblance of human virtue. The temple obliges Akira to consent."

"Garth seeks virtue?" Akira asked still in disbelief, and Daichim's austere face showed his displeasure. "Which one?"

"Empathy," Daichim retorted gruffly.

Akira bowed her head despite not convinced by her step-father.

"A man that rides a wyvern and rules over a Kingdom of almost immortal beings and witches, wields tremendous power. So great a power corrupts even those that have a decent core to begin with. Abadaim… Chubin Amin, told me Garth is still sane because he's self-made. Each part of his character a solid brick he personally placed, the new foundations rugged but sturdy. He started poorly, but did make corrections which shows a very high intellect and an innate stubbornness to overcome adversity," Daichim pursed his mouth and stared at his son's face.

"Father believes, Garth fears himself and not those in his court," Uramosim continued taking his cue. "Either because they won't challenge him or more likely, because his daughter is too-connected to her father. A flawed man has his own demons to fight and his own vices. Sometimes he may slip up. A young mind raised in such an environment might perceive this as a carte blanche to do whatever she wants, without having the experience to pull back before she hurts those around her."

"Lord Sopat called the princess an angelic gem," Akira noted and her half-brother grimaced, then glanced at their father.

"Phon-Iv treasures his gems and his trained slaves for he possesses them. He's also a slave to these same treasures. Blind. In gems, Phon sees beauty in their sparkle, and in the myriad of his cultivated slaves, he mistakes their fleeting loyalty and the aptness of their physical form as something he can own forever," Daichim replied gruffly. "The first is insignificant to live for, as it is naught but pretty rocks with no soul and the second, completely immoral and even fallacious to even believe it, yet he just cannot fathom the opposite. In veiled hate and fear, the Sopat patriarch sees devotion. The Wetull Princess is an extension of himself and a living part of his late sister, whom Phon-Iv idolized and still mourns as the greatest treasure he has ever lost. I doubt that he really knows who the princess truly is inside, or what she could become if raised without any checks. Her father does, for he knows himself."

"You want me to tame such a creature?" Akira asked in shock.

"I want you to try, because the Sopat way shan't work for a Princess of Wetull and can't stand as a barrier to Zilan influence or that of her father's. Garth has his own reasons perhaps, but Atrusim is convinced Phon-Iv is mistaken. The Princess is not another Sen-Iv, she can't be and you'll see that for yourself, I believe."

Daichim stared at Uramosim.

"Father says, you have an hour to pack your things," he told her trying to make it sound less harsh than it sounded, but it wasn't possible.

Some tasks are just unbearable.

"You'll make it little sister. You are the noblest spirit I know. A true warrior maiden," Kana had consoled her. "Ever so strong and fair-minded. Just, please stay out of what doesn't concern you. Allow the realm to do its own thing –even if it is ugly. You'll gain the little Princess' trust and the Monarch's respect. Be safe and promise me, you'll come back to us Akira. May the God of Light, guide your steps to the distant lands of Lord Wyvern."

Akira had bowed her head instead of answering her suddenly very emotional sibling.

Some asks are just too difficult to answer.

-

Late summer of 195 NC

Ani Ta-Ne

The fancy-dressed, heavily-balding Cofol had tired eyes with dark circles under them. Viceroy Metu wore a lot of makeup himself and appeared to be in pain or strangled by problems. Akira kept her thoughts to herself shocked at what she had witnessed in the destroyed city. Devastation married to architectural marvels standing across each other. The latter slowly changing the desolate landscape of the leveled city.

Still the emptiness of the large streets and carcasses of the burned structures were haunting to experience the moment she walked out of the massive harbor. Akira listened to the Viceroy's explanations without any comments.

"All the ships available I need here," Metu explained with a grimace of pain. He cast a glance at the one-eyed Zilan in the old plate cuirass sitting at a table under an open window and sighed. "Eh, I can find you a deck spot on Captain Vinson Paddle's ship. He's out of Shark Isles, but works the trade route to Snakeville."

"An ally?"

"When he's paid. You'll pay him," Metu smiled thinly.

"Where is that other place?" Akira queried respectfully.

"Near Serpent's Canal docks," Metu explained with a sigh. "You'll travel through their lands next."

"Their land?" Akira probed and the timeworn Zilan with the soldier's outfit scoffed.

"Horselords country, run by a man called Kalac," he rustled and the Viceroy took over to add.

"A brutal person. Earned a parcel of land for services rendered to the King. Kalac is away for years now, but his lieutenants are equally difficult in character, so keep your papers at hand. Are you religious, or is this some disturbing carnal outfit?"

"She's a priestess," the Zilan noted. "Read the letter."

"I see it now," Metu grunted. "Creepy you could read it from ten meters away given… your disability. Right. A priestess it says here."

Akira nodded.

"Good. You'll need plenty of that."

She wanted to inquire what were Horselords doing inside Wetull's borders in the first place, but decided not to trouble her hosts with her ignorance.

"Whatever Captain Paddle asks, say nothing," Metu warned her. "I'll speak to Dalton Sisk his quartermaster later. Find a dry spot, stay clothed at all times and cover your head with a hood or hat to avoid their gaze."

Akira gulped down, not sure why she would have to be guarded around the Viceroy's employs. Metu rubbed his forehead with a hand and stared at the letter she had given him.

"Lord Garth asked for your services?" The Viceroy queried again and he'd sympathy in his voice now. "Avoid the roads lass," he told her. "Pay Captain Paddle something extra to drop you in Hardir's Port immediately and whatever you do, when they stop to Nyomel for a couple of days to load water and supplies, stay on the ship."

"I wanted to see the old city and glimpse at the garden. Shaelor praised it in his letters," Akira said.

"That's a name I haven't heard in a while," the Zilan commented with a leer.

"He had visited Tull Cautara-Magor," Akira explained and the Zilan nodded.

"What is she talking about?" The Viceroy queried sounding confused.

"Ancient history," the Zilan replied. "But she's not wrong."

"Thank you," Akira told him. "I spent my youth preserving the old texts and transferring them to fresh papyrus. To be able visit the fabled cities of old would be the highlight of my journey."

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Metu rolled his eyes in exasperation at her inability to understand the perceived dangers. Akira didn't fear a ruined city and hearing the old soldier's mirthful chuckle she turned to cast an austere stare his way that surprised the timeworn but still impressive Zilan.

"Can you use that, slant-eyed lass?" The unknown Zilan asked, a twinkle in his sole eye.

Akira nodded with a purse of her painted red mouth.

"Then you might have a chance," he told her matter-of-factly. "Something or other looks at ye the wrong way, don't hesitate to use it."

Akira stood at the busy docks directly across the 'Cruel Tortuga', a modified brig moored next to a much longer Imperial Galleass. It looked fat and more annoying than menacing than the much bigger, slicker design of the Galleass, with its gilded rails and all-black sails that had a landing wyvern depicted in fiery red on them.

The Cofol Priestess breathed out slowly, heavily laden with a haversack and Ross Lu-ViLon's bag and perceived the human vessel with a mix of apprehension mostly for this next part of her journey. A male voice distracted her, spoken in fluent Imperial, and then a female laughter. Akira turned her head to examine the couple enjoying their swim near the boulders at the edge of the docks with interest. The male stood tall and powerfully built like a warrior of myth. He'd a striking face with piercing eyes and short-cut blue hair. His partner, now carried ashore in the demi-god's arms had the beauty of a fairy. Large expressive eyes, naughty Zilan ears, a luscious blue mane curling at her back and a mature female body with a pair of long legs that kicked water as they scissored playfully.

Akira had the sense the female Zilan was with child. It didn't show other than the heavy breasts –now hidden, but their public nakedness wasn't offensive to her eyes. It was in the powerfully-built male's tender actions and their intimate whispering. Without thinking Akira raised her arm, her fingers forming a small circle sign against her thumb and her voice whispering a quick prayer.

"Heavenly Warden of the Sacred Light," Akira chanted. "Cast your shield over the mother in this here site. Brace in strength, peace and engulf in your grace. Lead safe her stride, guide this bride and her unborn child."

The Zilan female placed her fingers on the male's mouth and turned her head to behold the lonely figure of the Priestess waiting by the docks. Akira felt the stunning Zilan's threads of magic reaching out from thirty meters away and touch her covered in gold paint face. She felt warmth and gratitude from the talented creature, a kindness Akira didn't expect. The couple climbed up the boulders, covered themselves up quickly and then approached the numb Akira, who wondered whether she had done the right thing.

"Heavens above our greetings sister," the female told her tip-toeing in front of her partner, "I'm Darunia. Pretend that you know us."

Akira furrowed her brows unsure and a rough human voice was heard from somewhere above them in poor Imperial. "Milord Commander," the human said standing at the quarterdeck of Cruel Tortuga. "Be keeping the aroused menfolk inside up until now, not to behold yer partner's divine milkers, but got plenty o' brown sugar an' black tea in them cargo holds, plus drums o' hashish, and had to lead the lads out for they stand afflicted wit the larceny bug. Arr… but only after I administered plenty of tonguin' to give them proper pointers! Aye. So don't stand bewildered at the crowd for none of us witnessed more than this."

"Where are you heading to mister Paddle?" The male Zilan asked in a virile voice, skipping past all of his verbal diarrhea and Darunia winked at the perturbed Akira.

"Mussel is the last stop Milord Roran," Paddle replied and Roran –the Zilan officer- stared at Akira in a querying manner.

"Nyomel," Akira said and Roran raised a brow.

"You heard her mister Paddle?" He boomed and the pirate Captain with the blue scarf and large silver earrings stooped over the quarterdeck rails befuddled.

"Can't say I did Milord," Paddle replied. "Me eardrums are clogged wit salt an' pepper."

"Pepper?" Roran queried with a grimace and gestured for Darunia to stay where she was. The Zilan had moved to rush up the plank as if to examine the Captain's ears.

"Twas a failed remedy Milord," Paddle explained. "Tell 'em Sisk." He ordered another shifty-looking person who had come to stand next to him, this one wearing a green sash with two small axes sheathed right and left of his hips.

"We blew it in but didn't come out," Sisk expounded. "Allow me to divulge here Milord that he was fine after a couple of days," the second pirate added which earned him a scowl from his bearded Captain.

"You'll stop at Nyomel?" Roran asked them moving on with a shake of his head.

"What if we do?" Captain Paddle replied with a query of his own, now hearing much better.

"You'll take her there," Roran said matter-of-factly and Paddle stood back narrowing his eyes.

"Akira," she said when Roran glanced her way.

"Take the gold-painted senorita Akira to Nyomel," Paddle repeated slowly, as if trying to figure out where the catch was.

"As a favor," Roran added solemnly.

"Of course, shorn of any squabble, Milord Hoplite," Captain Paddle agreed readily in his peculiar mixture of Imperial and pirate jargon. "Cross me heart an' hope all me enemies die of the rot!"

A dumbfounded Akira stared in Darunia's smiling face in shock, as she did not expect their kind gesture.

"Thank you for the kind blessing, Priestess," Darunia whispered clasping at her hand tightly with both of hers. "Have a safe journey."

-

A week later

The Torn Earth Channel

The heavy mist moved over the large channel. It breathed over the calm waters. The mist touched the sheer cliffs to the south and shimmered over the desert's shores to their north. Sunrays pierced the thick veil and painted the Cruel Tortuga in brighter colors. A young lookout kept giving them instructions from atop the main mast and Captain Vinson Paddle had stayed near 'Make-Peace' Thorne -the ship's carpenter, who measured the depth every five minutes. For whilst there were huge chasms at the bottom of the channel where the earth had cracked open, in some places the bottom was shallow and dangerous for a heavily-laden ship to run aground.

"Brought ye some rice gruel," Dalton Sisk told her. "We be coming up to Nyomel soon. It's just beyond the turn. Cargo master found some mold on the rice, but he washed it off. They might have something better at Nyomel, but I wouldn't count on it."

"I'll have the gruel, Mister Sisk," Akira said with a bow and the windswept man cracked a smile. He'd a gold dental bridge inside his mouth fixed on four damaged teeth. "Gratitude."

"Ye would. You are a well-mannered lass," Sisk told her, rubbing at his wrinkled face with a hand missing half the pinky finger. "The Brothers didn't want ye aboard arr," he continued keeping his voice low. "Nothing good comes from having a woman as cargo the saying goes. And these are tricky waters. So they had a good argument… arr."

Akira raised the warm bowl to her lips carefully and took a sip from the watery gruel. Her eyes teared up from the salty, badly tasting mixture, but didn't complain.

"I defended ye and it made me no new friends wit the crew," Sisk said after watching her eat in silence. "Ye are not a Sister I told them, but ye are a priestess, some deity or oth'r likes," the man continued. "And this is the best waters we've ever had around here. The best waters aye, and the best weather, for this is a fiddly season. Most capricious, aye."

"Good men have the god's favor," Akira told him. "It wasn't my doing."

"Uhm." Sisk murmured and listened to the lookout's report for a moment afore adding. "We've only been good for a little while lass and it wasn't by design," he told her with a crook of his mouth. "And we be fixing to have a relapse of sorts soon, I reckon."

"You shouldn't. Keep doing the right thing," Akira cautioned and returned the empty bowl to him. "And the good god shall reward you."

"Which god is that?"

"There's only one good god up there," Akira told him and pointed at the few sunrays reaching the ship's deck. "The God of Light rewards those earning their living honestly. Guide's them safely."

"I don't have the same experience or seen this elusive luck favoring them honest folk," Sisk admitted. "The opposite, I reckon is more common. Aye. Is this godly reward any worth?"

"It is greater than any earthly riches," Akira expounded. "Life eternal in the Heavens for you and your loved ones."

"What if… for the sake of argument," Sisk queried respectfully. "One favors…let's say, them earthly riches. Will this God assist the faithful in acquiring them?"

"No treasure worth's the price of one's soul mister Sisk," Akira warned him.

"Um." Sisk nodded. "We could take you to Mussel lass," he told her after a moment of silent retrospection. "Even turn north at South Watch and enter Vermilion Peak's gulf, take ye to Hardir's Port directly."

"I shall see the city," Akira replied grabbing the rail as the ship's sails filled with a gust of sudden wind and 'Cruel Tortuga' started turning. The Channel opening up and the mist dissolving beyond the brig's stern. "Then walk through the divine garden to reach Abarat."

"Nothing tame, much less divine, about this place," Sisk warned her. "Just a backdoor to reach Wetull. The garden is a jungle and Nyomel an ancient ruin that has working docks because the Brotherhood kept them running. But we don't venture up the river. Didn't you read them tourist boards in Ani Ta-Ne? You are welcomed to use the roads or trails in this instance, at yer own peril visitor. We Brothers can sniff a warning under the fancy language, aye."

"Who wrote that?" Akira asked a little perturbed.

"I wouldn't know, but the Monarch's seal was pressed on it… aye," Sisk murmured and pursed his mouth. The quartermaster moved back and forth with the turning ship without the need to hold on to something -like most of the crew, and soon enough out of the mist, Nyomel and its ruins appeared.

-

Port of Nyomel

"…so 'Coxswain' Ogden," the human working at the only warehouse told them. A Nord by the name of 'Fist' Mabbot. "Moored here during the summer. Didn't stay long on account of the trouble brewing up the river."

"What trouble be that?" Captain Paddle queried whilst the crew of 'Cruel Tortuga' loaded barrels of fresh water from the well and exchanged some of their cargo for supplies.

"First came the werewolves," the tanned Nord explained. "Ripped people up. Many of us former Rida folk thought it was Zander Cross' disciples. Then all manner of shifty fellows and finally the firestorm. Levelled a good portion of the Garden. Could see it burning during the night. The flames touched the sky, ayup."

"Who burned the Garden?" Paddle asked.

"Well, between us…" Mabbot replied lowering his voice. "I believe Hardir did. Uhm. Saw the wyvern circling myself. At least we had no more hairy beasts these past couple of weeks. Might be over a month now."

Akira walked towards the end of the buildings surrounding the docks, and stared at the ancient road following the river's banks. Nyomel's old center followed the river for a while as it was built across from its shores –right next to the delta, but its once large estates had crumbled. Ancient walls and watch towers still standing covered with vegetation. Much of the ruins and the side streets leading to the port had been cleared though, with some new constructions or additions over old foundations, making their appearance.

Still, these streets stood empty and most people were operating inside the footprint of the port and its buildings. Akira saw a man leading a mule towards the entrance to the docks, but he got stopped by a group of three armed persons who had kept themselves unseen in the shades up until that moment.

Akira turned around to return near the talking with the locals Captain Paddle worried that something nefarious was happening.

"Where are the patrols?" Paddle asked.

"They stay far away, near the Greenhouse and Elas Bridge. The Governor is focused on finishing that thing in the middle of nowhere first, for some reason or other," the Nord explained. "They come this way once a week but it is not enough, so we keep ourselves armed and sleep with one eye open."

"Didn't you complain?"

"Ha! Complain he says! We are renting here. We didn't for years, but now we do. Did we complain? No sirs. Who would? But we did ask her for some manner of consideration twice. They just don't have the manpower to cover everything. Finally Governor Vaelenn opened up a quest with a hefty reward, so we expect some adventurers or others to pop up and help out. Not many come this way normally, but she has connections with the guild in Taras, so something might come of it. We even have quarters readied and what not, inside the warehouse."

"That dilapidated ruin? The lads found a very big snake in there!" Paddle snapped with a nervous glance at the approaching Sisk.

"A jungle python it was," Sisk informed them. "Yay long and fat as a small cow. Some of the brothers think he might have something big stuffed in his stomach."

"Eh. They are not poisonous," Mabbot retorted without expounding. "Good meat."

"Yeah? Well, we left it at the door," Sisk said with a grimace of disgust. "Have at it."

"Are the adventurers here?" Akira interrupted them and the Nord turned to look in her face perturbed. "I've seen them stop a person just now. Back there, beyond the ruins of the watch tower."

"That's outside the port," Mabbot explained narrowing his eyes. "Is it warrior paint, what you have on? Seems expensive and what's with that huge staff? Ye couldn't find a smaller weapon wench? You look ridiculous more than scary, just saying."

"The weapon's length is just fine. Short in height hides one's skill and the paint is just a simple color…" Akira paused to puff out trying not to lose her temper. "Could they be, these are the adventurers you expect?"

"Listen lass…" Mabbot grunted turning red in the face. "I don't like eavesdropping folk with tits, painted face or not. They cause trouble."

"She's a priestess of Light," Sisk intervened, but the large Nord stopped him with a glare.

"I don't give a damn," Mabbot barked. "Have it up to here with all you peoples' weird beliefs. Each time it's something else. This is Nesande's Garden. So we stay respectful to the Goddess and her Magic, else we be burned or grow a dick on our forehead! We also stay mindful to the Wyvern God, given we are in the Wyvern Lord's domain. A crazy dude riding a wyvern tells you to jump, ye ask how high sire? You get it now?"

Akira licked her painted lips and the bitter taste made her eyes water.

"A man just got attacked."

"Whoa. This wench is deaf and stupid," Mabbot said and glanced at his guys. Then at the frowned Captain Paddle. "What did you bring here Vinson?"

"It was Lord Hoplite's request Mabbot," Paddle told him.

The Nord stared at the street Akira had seen the incident earlier and frowned. "I don't see nothing priestess," he grunted hoarsely. "But had they been adventurers these men you saw, they would have come straight here to get their coin. The job is to guard the port's facilities and these hard-working folk standing behind me. That's it, and we'll see what manner of characters we'll get, as I'm less hopeful than our Governor. As for them ruins, they are beyond my care. You have a problem with that, get it to the King, for he's the one that ordered the Greenhouse guarded night and day."

"Good Priestess," Dalton Sisk said seeing the scowled Akira turn around to head back and investigate the lonesome human's fate. "I'll come with you."

"Dalton, all gods of the depth damn it!" Paddle barked. "I need you here mate! We stand blind without yer input! Plus, ye know Trickster the best and I shan't be embarking on this fiddly escapade deprived of a man I trust to guard me rear!"

"We can at the very least gather the lads and escort her—"

"Out of the plaguin' question!" Paddle snapped angrily. "What are we? The local guides? Get back on the ship lass. Something tells me ye won't be getting a better offer! Everyone here stands witness we brought ye this far, right?"

"Whatever you think you saw lass," Mabbot added with a shrug. "It's over and done now."

"I can't just abandon the priestess…" Sisk insisted and the Captain of the 'Cruel Tortuga' assumed a pensive expression.

"A cave of gold," Paddle reminded his mate of what stood in the balance and Mabbot's eyes flickered with interest. "It may be just a tale, but it's an accursed, tantalizing story that haunts me dreams Dalton. I need ye to back me up. In Trickster's stories habitually all other characters end up dead or missing."

"Seek your riches without shame, Mister Dalton," Akira advised the grimacing, conflicted pirate. "Akira is a priestess, but Akira is also a Nina Musha."

-

Thirty minutes later

"Vile Chimera's spawn!" The Zilan cursed and then howled getting a heavy brick break apart on his head, hurled by the wiry human. One of the others turned around to attack her with a spear, but it gave the other beefy man of their smaller group the chance to go on the offensive with his spear, whilst their bleeding down his cracked cranium leader turned around to face the first warrior.

For they were warriors these adventurers, Akira guessed, then parried the attacker's spear thrust away and planted the Naginata down to vault herself over the charging thug's head. She landed on her two feet, dropped to her knees –losing her hat, and then immediately twirled -making a circle on the dirty road, whilst extending her right leg out to sweep the twisting about thug's legs off of the old tiled street.

The human hit the dirt-covered tiles hard and Akira stepped over him, walking from his chest to his arm to immobilize his weapon. "Yield," she told the stupefied at her acrobatics thug and when he went to grab her ankle instead, Akira kicked him in the face with the same leg, splattering his nose and fouling her moccasin in the thug's blood.

"You lost the advantage," she told the Zilan leader who was still trying to contain the furiously attacking him, wiry human. "It is meaningless to continue."

"What?" The Zilan growled and cast a wild glance her way. The momentary lapse in concentration cost him a stab in the gut by the persistent manic human. The warrior yanked the shortsword out of the bleeding wound, and then kneed the groaning Zilan in the gonads. It brought the injured Zilan down to its knees.

"Enough," Akira told her ally and the wiry human glanced her way bewildered.

"What?" He growled much as the fatally injured Zilan had wondered just a moment prior and then savagely plunged his shortsword into his opponent's left eye. The point of the blade exploding out of the back of the Zilan's skull.

Praise the Lord!

"Halt this," Akira yelled and the human blinked, afore giving his fully dead opponent a nasty kick to send him sprawling on the ground.

"Beskar! Cunt's gonna leg it!" He barked, just as the last of the thugs spotted the carnage and immediately disengaged. He then sprinted away as fast as he could with the spear-wielding half-naked warrior following after him.

"It's over," Akira pleaded with the surviving men. "Let him go!"

"Eh," Beskar grunted, as he couldn't run as fast as his nimbler opponent and raised his arm, hefted the spear whilst tumbling forward, finally managing to launch it with a manic growl afore he went down face first.

The spear screamed the short distance, reached the fleeing thug and plunged between his shoulder blades with a crunching thud.

Akira stood back in shock seeing the fatally hurt human collapse after a couple of shaky strides and then rolling lifeless on the ancient street.

"During the bronze age," an unknown voice said in her ear in a deep presenter's voice and the distracted Akira flinched, taking a precautionary step back from the bleeding down his face third male of the small group. "Such scraps were pretty common, even inside settlements."

"Who are you?" Akira gasped, trying to calm down from her scare.

"Call me Asmudius," the man introduced himself with a grimace of pain, and used a thumb to wipe some of the blood dripping down his eyebrow.

"You are an adventurer?" She asked, half-hopefully and half-still-in-shock from witnessing them murder their defeated opponents.

"Ticu's green thighs… no! Gods. Ha-ha. Ehm," Asmudius chuckled, unable to control himself. "I'm a writer of plays. Nothing is finished yet, but there's plenty of action in them!"

"Check on Kelly, you vile helot gaoler!" The first warrior roared incensed and Asmudius' grin turned into an uncomfortable grimace.

"Former gaoler. It was the family business," he explained to the gawking Akira and Beskar, who had approached after he'd retrieved his bloody spear, added with a curt scoff.

"Listen to this sneaky cretin pouring the varnish! He means slaver."

"That's horrible, mister Asmudius," Akira gasped, trying to figure out whether she had helped the wrong people.

"It depends," Beskar retorted gruffly and spat a bloody blob on the ground. "Them other guys, were flesh merchants!"

Akira gulped down. "Flesh merchants," she repeated.

"Ayup. Cannibals," Beskar elucidated and slotted a thick finger in his mouth to check on his teeth. "Ah, that's a split gum under the molar. Shite!"

Beskar went to check up on the young blond woman –named Kelly, and Akira after briefly examining the five butchered thugs –Asper had finished off the one she had left breathing, which meant two Zilan and three Lorians were laying dead now –all part of the same group, another oddity- she walked to the large covered cart, now left by the gang's animals.

Two horses and the heavily laden mule she had seen from afar.

Its true owner thrust over the wrapped in salted hides packages. The Issir had been slain at some point right after she'd last seen him. Then he was left with his throat cut open, and his blood had dripped on the cart's floor with some leaking out the bottom. Akira reached for one of the packages, but the wiry human stopped her. He'd a number tattooed in his veiny forearm with two gladius-type blades carved over it. The style resembling that of the Gladiators.

"Was known as 'Spry' Asper, but had also fought under the 'Desert Lotus' moniker in the past," Asper told her and took the package from her hand. He dropped it inside the cart and closed the wooden lid. "Best to leave it to us. We'll torch the whole thing. This was the blasted job. Curse that one-armed Zilan. I ain't letting Asmudius do the talking another time."

"Why two names?" Akira asked taking a step back.

"Managed to free myself from Lord Erul-Sol with the latter," Asper explained and run his finger over one of the swords carved on his forearm. "Had to go an' do it all over again in order to free my blood brother with the former. I just go by Asper now."

Akira stared at Beskar confused.

"My brother didn't make it," Asper said noticing her stare. "He fell with Mista Savar."

"You fought with the Chiliad," Akira bowed her head at the amused former gladiator. "Much respect to the slave-warriors."

"They died free," Asper corrected her and then grimaced. "I've seen you outside Lai Zel-Ka, but you probably don't remember us. Asmudius was there too, Beskar and Kelly. The King of blasted Wetull himself."

"Apologies," Akira said and they both turned around hearing someone approach from a nearby narrow alley. She had missed it as the two ancient buildings after the turn, were built very close to each other and the cracked watched tower.

The newcomer walked dragging his feet, had a permanent grimace of pain plastered on his tanned face. A Lorian with reddish hair, deeply black-colored eyes that made both irises appear to be missing. Akira at first thought the thinly built man in the baggy clothes suffered from aniridia, but she was mistaken. He'd a nasty scar at the base of his throat, two rugged lines crossing it from both sides.

"Who are you?" Asper asked gruffly and the moving with difficulty newcomer halted with a groan of pain. The stranger had trouble keeping his legs from shaking, as if he was afflicted by a heavy case of arthritis to the knees.

"Alakul," the stranger rustled in decent Common barely getting the words out, his eyes stopping on Akira briefly. "I followed my boss Isac. That's his mule over there."

Must have followed him from afar, Akira thought, but said nothing.

"Not anymore, it isn't," Beskar grunted. "What manner of name is that for a Lorian?"

"I was born a slave. Isac bought be out," Alakul explained with another grimace of discomfort. His voice coming out strained and hoarse as if the old scars on his throat had affected the vocal cords. "You killed them all then?"

"We did," Asper replied crooking his mouth with anger, as he assumed the former slave had run away. "Give him the mule Beskar."

"Oh, come on Asper," Beskar protested and Kelly slapped his arm to shut up. The young woman had trouble breathing from the earlier blow she had suffered. "Eh, whatever," the other gladiator grunted.

"Alright," Asper decided. "We'll take you back to your ship Priestess."

Akira shook her head. Then went to pick up the hat she had bought in Ani Ta-Ne. She put it on, tied the cords under her chin knowing she had to reapply the cracked coat of paint the next day and returned the gladiator's amused stare.

"Where are you going?" Asper asked her with a sigh.

"I wish to see the Garden and visit Abarat," Akira replied in a firm manner.

"Huh. It's almost noon priestess," Asper said with a glance at the sun. "You'll have to sleep in the woods."

"The good God shall provide," she argued and added to smooth things out. "My name is Akira."

"Where are you going after that, Akira?"

"Morn Taras."

"Ah, this sounds like the start of a great narrative," Asmudius declared and opened his satchel to dig out a thick notebook with a stylus tied on it with a cord.

"Morn Taras is a month away. Take a ship," Asper tried again. "The port is the other way."

"I'll walk," Akira retorted stubbornly.

"Asper," Beskar growled and Kelly slapped his forearm again.

"Asmudius," Asper rustled. "Give her one of the thugs' horses."

"I can pay for it," Akira offered, but Asper stopped her a little frustrated.

"This could have gone poorly for us," Asper told her in a serious tone. "No scrap's outcome is assured. Therefore, we owe you Akira. You're making it quite challenging for me to settle the score, priestess."

"You don't owe me anything," Akira insisted firmly. "I'm obliged to intervene. The God of Light observes us and witnesses all our deeds. You should express your gratitude to the God, not his agents."

"I'll do whatever I damn well please. You're getting the horse," Asper shot back, his jaw clenched as he tried to keep his composure. "Else, I'll slit its throat and let it bleed out."

"That would be unnecessary and cruel."

"I'm a cruel bastard," the ex-gladiator grunted.

Akira stepped back, irritated. "Akira shall accept the horse," she finally declared with a deep bow that left Asmudius quite impressed. "May the God of Light, grant Asper his rightful reward."

"Darn it girl that came out like a threat. All I want is my twenty pieces of gold coins for cleaning up the road from these vile scum," Asper retorted with a grimace. "And a new shield. That Northern cunt Mabbot better have them ready."

"Coarse language or 'gutter tongue' is habitual amidst adventurers on the road," Asmudius explained in his deep narrating voice, upon seeing Akira's frown at the nasty word thrown and both gladiators, with Kelly joining in with enthusiasm, yelled him down in a loud chorus.

"Shut up Asmudius!"

-

Eight hours later

The second bridge at Marionel River right after the Orchard

Eleven kilometers from Elas land-bridge across the Great Acid Lake

"Shush horse," Akira told her new companion. A grey and brown mare with large kind eyes. She rubbed the animal's long snout comfortingly while examining the dark trees beyond the river's thick rattans. The sound of bugs constant near the shores, but it was annoying even hundreds of meters away, as Akira had purposefully made camp much later to avoid them.

The horse snorted smelling the approaching animal, the bags it was laden with making noise as they scrapped its wooden saddle. While it was almost pitch black and the moons hidden behind white clouds, Akira could see the mule's silhouette as she'd camped away from the tree line and next to the open road.

"It's me priestess," the raspy voice of Alakul was heard and the frail man himself appeared hobbling behind the mule. Akira reached for her Naginata, found the attached blade and twisted it slowly. With a crack the blade was released and she kept it pointing down near her right leg.

"I put out the fire mister Alakul," Akira said stepping away from the horse and out in the street. "But there's some tea left in the pitcher."

"Just looking for company priestess," Alakul informed her and stopped allowing the mule to head towards the waiting Akira. She placed her left hand on the animal's chest to stop it and then run it soothingly over its warm neck. "Some tea would be lovely."

"Let me see your hands," Akira ordered him and Alakul obliged extending them both out. He was unarmed. "If you wish to warm it back up, there are some branches left."

"I can make fire," Alakul reassured her. "Offer a story in exchange for the hospitality."

"It's late," Akira countered. "And I've a lot of road to cover."

"As have I," Alakul smiled. "Profit to be made in the King's cities."