A Mage's Power (Journey to Chaos) (30 page)

The capital looked as if someone grabbed rocks at random and
tossed them up in the air. Stones were piled high without mortar and some lay
precariously on the edge of others. Instead of a fortress or a city, it truly
looked like a pile of stones.

“Why'd they bother building this place?” Eric asked. “It
looks ready to fall apart.”

“I told you already: they built it so other nations would
have somewhere to go.” Anuzat's voice turned bitter. “It's hard to have
relations with a nation that's constantly on the move.”

“You have such disdain and yet you're one of them.”

 “
Was
one of them,” Anuzat insisted. “Past tense.”
She knocked on the gate to call its keeper.

The gatekeeper was a human tanned brown from life in the
sun. He dressed like Anuzat and greeted her with a code phrase, which, of
course, she knew by heart. After exchanging pleasantries, he welcomed “cactus
stinger” home, she retorted with something inappropriate, and the gate slid
open. The gatekeeper took one look at the diminished caravan and directed them
to the local healer.

A spacious tent decorated with the sun and the moon.
Ethereal enforcers circled the sun; glowing tricksters jumped over the moon. A
majestic griffin painting guarded the entrance flap. It was pushed aside by an
old human woman with three eyes and fly wings poking out the bottom of her
embroidered
cloak.

“Welcome home, Cactus Stinger.” Anuzat scowled. “And Otherworlder.”
Eric shuffled his feet. “Come in, come in.” She waved them forward and the
novices carried their mentor inside.  

Scented pelts hung from the rafters and bottles lined the
rear wall. The woman's own staff stood proudly at the center. The healer
instructed them to place Basilard there. After a preliminary exam, she said
Basilard had been well taken care of and would awaken soon. Nolien beamed.

Anuzat held the flap open. “Come, we'll conduct our business
in the morning.”

“Why not now when it's not as hot?” Nolien asked.

“It's dark and it won't be so hot.” Eric detected a touch of
pride in her voice. “Not here.”

The Inn was a three-story building of the same construction
as the wall. Anuzat hopped through the door and the Innkeeper greeted “Cactus
Stinger.” She made a rude gesture on her way to the room perpetually reserved
for her.

The morning sun revealed a tower in the center of the city.
Eight streams of light connected it to the wall and the sky shimmered between
them.
I bet it works on the Green House Effect but in reverse; keeping heat
out instead of in. I'd like to see the runes describing their function
. .
. Hot and dry but bearably so; the capital of Kyraa was the largest scale
magecraft in the region.

“Now we can get things done,” Anuzat said. The merchant pointed
out the clothing store then leaned towards the boys and whispered, “Keep an eye
on Tiza. I don't want her to get in trouble.”

Eric said nothing. Anuzat used Tiza's
name
and told
them to do something that had nothing to do with guarding her. Nolien nudged
him and gave Anuzat his word in agreement.

The store was divided in two sections, which Eric assumed to
be male and female, but the signs said otherwise. Instead of gendered images,
the signs were two unisex individuals: one with a shield and one without. Behind
the shield carrier were pants and gauntlets. Behind the shield-less person were
skirts of varying length and cloaks. Tiza dropped her purchases on the counter.

The clerk shook her heads. “You can't buy these.”

“Why not?”

“They're warrior clothes,” the left one said.

“The store is split into gear for warriors and clothes for
non-warriors,” the middle one said.

“Seeing as you aren't a warrior you can't buy anything from
that section,” the right one said.

Tiza thrust her scabbard in the clerk's face. “Hello! I AM a
warrior.”

They were unimpressed. “Not a
Kyraan
warrior.” The
boys saw Tiza's body tense up and her hand move to her hilt. As one, they each
took some coins from their bags and placed them on the counter with Tiza's. She
grabbed them and threw them back with a glare.

“How do I get recognized?” she asked the clerk. Eric looked
at Nolien, who shrugged

“You have to challenge a recognized warrior and defeat them
before an elder.”

Still wearing Anuzat's cloak, Tiza left the store to look for
a warrior to beat into the ground. All the while, she complained about the
trouble she had to go through to buy new clothes.

“If you hadn't grabbed the stinger,” Nolien reminded, “then
you wouldn't need new clothes.”

Tiza pulled the stinger, plugged with safety rubber, from
within her cloak. “This stinger will come in handy one of these days. Just you
wait! We'll be fighting some big powerful monster that repels all our attacks,
you'll be screaming and wetting yourself and then I'll jam this thing into its
eye!” She made a stabbing motion. “Then you’ll be sorry!”

“What if it doesn't have eyes?” Eric asked. Tiza pointed the
stinger at him. “Shutting up.”

They heard laughter and turned to see a human boy leaning
against one of the stone buildings. His arms were crossed and he was staring at
the ground. He wore a shirt and pants, two swords on his back and gauntlets on
his arms.

“What's so funny?” Tiza asked.

“Just you, my lovely scorpion.”

 Tiza cocked her arm and Eric feared she was going to throw
the stinger at him. Then her arm fell and she put the stinger back under the
cloak. Eric was both relieved and surprised: Relieved because he didn't want to
be involved in attempted murder and surprised because Tiza was showing
restraint. The second feeling vanished when she chucked the rock trophy at him
instead. A rock that size and speed would crack his skull if it hit, but the
boy leaned without a care in the world.
Rest in Peace . . .

The boy caught it with one hand like a baseball; he didn't
even look up. It was an impressive feat, but he'd seen it before at the
Dragon's Lair. His jaw dropped because those people were Regulars. That
wouldn't stop Tiza. He sighed and waited for the inevitable.

“Fight me!”

“This is a golem head, isn't it?” the boy asked, ignoring
her demand. “You must have been caught in that mana storm a week ago. The fact
that you survived means you're not a crummy tourist, possibly a decent
opponent, but then again . . . I'd rather not have a senseless brawl.”

Her hand twitched. “All right, I challenge you to a duel!
That better?”

“All right, what are the stakes?”

“Stakes?”

“Yes, stakes. I don't know about where you come from, but
here in Kyraa, we don't fight for the heck of it. Fighting is for defense,
hunting, or training in one of those two.” He finally looked at Tiza. “I doubt
you fall into any of those categories; particularly the last one.”

Tiza growled and her hand flew to the sword beneath her
cloak. She had it halfway out before Nolien grabbed her hands and tried to
reason with her.
Good luck
.

“Why are you baiting her?” Eric asked. The boy shrugged.

“Can you tell me your name?” The boy shrugged again.
This
is getting annoying
.

“How about why warriors are such a big deal here?”

 “Warriors bring honor to themselves and their families
through hunting, duels, and sport. Warriors enforce the Law and carry out
decisions made by the Elders.”
That explains it; warriors are the police
here. Tiza trying to buy what she did would be like a civilian trying to buy a
police uniform.

He heard a thud of metal on leather and saw Tiza's arms
crossed instead of on her hilt.
Will wonders never cease
. “All right,
what are you going to put up?”

“I don't have to because you'll get honorary warrior status
if you win.”

Eric had to admit it was fair, otherwise Tiza would get two
prizes and he would only get one. His teammates scowled. Once again, he noted
how strangely similar they looked when in agreement.

“I don't have to put up anything either. I won't lose.”

“All the same, I want a kiss.” Tiza was silent, her eyes an
unbelieving blank.  

“You don't have to fight him at all, you know,” Nolien said.
“You can get new clothes in Roalt and wear Anuzat's cloak until then.”

Tiza's face hardened. Eric feared she'd go into Videlicet
Mens. If that happened, both mages together couldn't stop her.

“No . . .” she said in cold fury. “I'm going to beat that
smirk off his face!”

He chuckled and said, “Just one more thing.”

“What!?”

“If you want to prove yourself in accordance with our
traditions, you'll have to dress as a non-warrior.” Tiza glared hatefully,
which made him happier. “Since I know I'll win, I'll pay for it.”

This is not going to end well!
Nolien shared his
dread. They both remembered what happened the last time someone made Tiza wear
a dress.
I don't care if this guy has Regular skill, he's gonna die.

“Come, my lovely scorpion.” Both of Tiza's hands twitched as
she followed the warrior boy back to the clothing store.

By now, Eric was wondering if this guy had a death wish, but
more likely he simply didn't take Tiza seriously. Their fighter did give the
impression of being a big mouth with a piece of sharp steel, but could
definitely take care of herself in a fight.
That boy's gonna get stung if he
calls her 'my lovely scorpion' again.

The warrior boy picked out traditional clothing, paid for
them, and gave the bag to Tiza. The girl who nonchalantly shoveled bird poop
with her bare hands held it gingerly between two fingers. One minute later, she
walked out: a loose ankle-length skirt and sleeveless top, both in soft pink, a
bead necklace on her neck and jeweled pins in her hair. If she didn't have
those distinctive dirty streaks, Eric wouldn't have recognized her

“Ah, my scorpion, you look even lovelier dressed so.”

The heat of Tiza's glare rivaled that of the dessert itself,
but she said nothing. Eric agreed with him; she did look pretty. He would never
tell her that because he liked living too much.

“This is ridiculous,” Nolien said, “You're just dressing her
up for your kiss.
I'll
fight you in—”

He trailed off as Tiza's glare shifted to him. Her whole
body trembled. He laughed nervously. “I-I mean . . . I'll go look for Miss.
Anuzat . . .” He walked as fast as he could out the door.

Tiza, without taking her eyes from Nolien's retreating form,
said, “I'll have to leave my pack somewhere for the duel, maybe Anuzat can hold
it for me.” She followed him.

The warrior looked to Eric, who dropped his head and said, “Don't
ask. Just don't.”

The boy shrugged. “I need to ask an Elder to judge our duel,
wanna come with?”

Like Eric suspected, the Elder's home was the Stone Tower.
He had a feeling this was the seat of power in Kyraa. It had to be if it was
created for the purpose of international relations.
This Elder must be the
ruler here . . . I wonder how that system works . . .
The boy pushed aside
a fur entrance and a wave of nostalgia awaited Eric inside.

A desk that seemed to be part of the tower was set against
the back wall and framed by two doors. Behind that desk was a smiling, rose-haired
human girl. “Hey, Tej! What's up?”

 A swarm of images flew to the front of Eric's mind:  the
Dragon's Lair, Mia pulling mission bills out of thin air, Basilard training
him, the messy eating habits of his fellows. The pain in his heart was so sharp
it took his breath away. Tej put a hand on his shoulder to steady him.

“Are you okay? There's a healer nearby.”

Eric took a deep breath and said, “I-I'm fine. I just . . . I
just need a moment . . .” To think about why guild memories affected him that
way. The place was eternally loud and chaotic, everyone was nuts, and the work
was either menial or deadly . . . So why did he miss it?

Tej shrugged. “All right. Is Elder Akag busy?”

The receptionist nodded. “Yes, but he should wake up any
minute.”

 “He's sleeping?” The mercenary would rather listen to a
story of a lazy Elder then probe his inner feelings about his guild. Besides,
it sounded like something a captain would do . . .

“Why not?” the receptionist asked. “He's on vacation.”

Eric had a feeling he completely misunderstood Kyraan
government.

“Tourist?” the receptionist asked Tej.

“I'm not sure,” Tej replied.

Confusion quickly turned into offense: maybe it was because
he was here on business, maybe it was because he almost died getting here, or
maybe it was because his best friend did, but he did
not
want to be
called a tourist.

“I'm a mercenary and I'm here on business,” Eric said
firmly. “My job is to guard a caravan through your desert and the Yacian
Caverns. C class monsters live there, you know.” He showed off his staff. “With
this I fended off a pack of xethras and then without it I guided everyone out.”
He decided to leave out the temporary bout of insanity and how his magic still
wasn't working right.

Tej leaned on the desk. “Well, Mr. Mercenary, since you seem
confused about our government, I'll enlighten you. Millennium ago, Kyraa was
invaded and a group of traveling warriors helped us repel them. Then we decided
to make a permanent structure to receive the rulers of our neighbors and make
peace with them.”

“Our ancestors were clever.” The receptionist said. “They
made the permanent structure
look
like it could fall apart anytime to
make a statement of their commitment to the nomadic life style. They created
the Stone Pile with their collective magic; any visiting diplomat would see
this massive structure and learn that the only thing keeping it together was
our Elders' will.”