Sunstone - Dishonor's Bane (Book 2) (2 page)

The innkeeper’s face took on a look of seriousness. “You’ve heard the stories about the guild?”

Shiro had never even talked much about the Sorcerer’s Guild and shook his head. He gazed at his new tattoos, which still hurt.

“I hear only half of those that pass the test survive their first year or two. They can get culled,” the innkeeper said.

“Culled or killed?” Shiro said draining the rest of his cup of wine.

“Same thing, probably. There are always evil rumors, where the Guild is concerned. In my opinion, peril is in store for those who walk the road to Boriako. Few have ever left our village, but we’ve heard enough stories from our customers through the years. Take care of yourself, Shiro.” The innkeeper’s wife steered the conversation to village gossip.

~~~

Chapter Two

~

S
hiro looked back at his orderly farm
while he waited for his ride out of Koriaki. He’d been able to harvest much of his produce and sell it. There were still a few crops to be brought in. Those were added to the sales price of his home. He had grown up on that farm and when his parents died, he married soon after and began another life in the same house. He sighed and wondered if he’d ever see his farm or Koriaki again.

He sold his father’s sword, last of all. He really didn’t want to let it go, but he didn’t want any sorcerers in Boriako to get it after a possible culling. The weapon reminded him of his dead father. He practiced with or against that sword every day from age ten with his father, and on his own after he died. However, after his oldest son passed away along with the rest of his family, practicing his forms by himself every single day had become a chore. He had no one to leave the sword to. His father and mother had never talked about relatives on Roppon Isle.

A sigh passed his lips. His father had taught him so much. He couldn’t help but shake his head. So much of his past had centered on that weapon and the Guild would erase his past. Best to leave such memories behind. Shiro had little confidence that he could.

He heard the clip-clop of a mule and soon a cart rolled up. Shiro hopped on the fully loaded cart that his neighbor’s slave brought up to the little lane that led past Koriaki Farm #22. Every stick of furniture, every tool, every morsel of food… gone to the highest bidder. He even had to sell Hoku and that felt like selling his family into slavery. The satchel at his side held two changes of clothes and the price of his farm in the Emperor’s coin underneath the false bottom.

He grabbed a last look at the old farmstead, the house with one real glass window in the front door, barn and storage shed as the cart turned the corner into the woods. The best farm in Koriaki faded from view. Someone else’s farm. Shiro’s big sigh caused the driver to turn around in his seat.

“That a sigh of relief or the end of a prayer?” Kinoru said. He had a friendly, if rumpled, face of a peasant perhaps ten years older than Shiro. Kinoru had done something wrong in his youth and had become a slave. He toiled as a peasant on his neighbor’s farm. His neighbor would rent Kinoru out to him from time to time and Shiro had appreciated the help when he needed another set of sturdy hands.

“I really don’t know. Today is a day of sighs. In five years, I may look back and think it otherwise.”

“Well, it isn’t everybody that’s picked by the Sorcerer’s Guild.”

“Nor is it everybody that makes it through the apprentice years of the Guild alive.”

“Ah, that be the rumors, Shiro. But you’ve still got your youth.” Kinoru said

Youth, he thought. Twenty-six years old. Two kids and a wife dead before him. A farm worked by one man alone for two years. The tension of the last ten days wore Shiro out and yet; he admitted to himself, the tedium of solitary farming had been taxing.

He had made his farm prosper. It still took backbreaking work, but he produced the best of what ever he grew. His vegetables and fruit sold at higher prices than all the others at market and his oranges were always larger. He’d often get up in the morning and see branches cut from his orange orchard; knowing farmers would try to graft his branches onto their trees. The Gods blessed him with the ability to coax more out of the plants than anyone else in the village, but he suspected his green thumb just might be a manifestation of his power. If that were the case, then the new owner would be sorely disappointed.

He jumped off the cart at the next village and pressed a steel coin into Kinoru’s hand.

“Thank you, old friend. I’ll always think of you.”

Kinoru laughed. “Me? I’m just a peasant, not even a noble farmer such as yourself.”

“You’re still a man I admire, Kinoru. Good luck and good bye.” Shiro’s old life seemed to instantly disappear. He nodded at his friend for the last time and bounded into the dark recesses of the inn.

The innkeeper looked at the cart and then at Shiro. “You have the money to stay the night?”

Shiro showed his tattoo to the owner and let the man examine the new identity stick, given to him by the sorcerers. He now had six weeks to get to Boriako and an unlimited amount of funds to do so. With his identity stick came a chop, a little cylinder with the carved symbol of the Sorcerer’s guild. When the chop was dipped in red ink and stamped on a document, any government office would repay the holder. It gave Shiro the ability to draw on the guild for lodging, meals, and transportation. He took advantage of that by taking the best room and slept in late.

He procured a horse from the inn and set off east towards Boriako, the capital city on Roppon Isle. The journey would take a month, including the long ferry ride from North Isle to Roppon proper. Shiro had never been on a large boat. He didn’t know if he looked on such a ride as an adventure or a curse.

Four nights later, Shiro stood at the entrance to a ramshackle inn nestled in the midst of a stand of woods. The thatched roof seemed to be in disrepair. The paper windows had plenty of holes. The place was likely filled with drafts.

“Newly tested, eh?” the proprietor, a tall woman, walked out to greet him. She had frizzy gray hair that she let grow in long waves, unusual for Ropponi who typically wore their hair straight. Tradition called for women to bind theirs up in large loops wrapped around their heads and men to arrange their long hair into topknots.

“I am. The only one chosen from my village,” Shiro said. He would prefer to stay quiet about his predicament, but the woman must have noticed the redness around his tattooed wrist as soon as he dismounted.

“Let me see that,” she said, grasping his left arm. “You rarely see the wavy line or a red dot. That means you tested out at a very high level. Much Affinity.” Her head bobbed in a knowing fashion.

“What is Affinity, really?” Shiro said. “I’m new to all of this.”

“Farmer, by your clothes. There aren’t too many nexuses in the northwest, so Affinity isn’t brought out in folks quite so much as in the rest of Roppon. In the South Isle, you would have exhibited power early on. You wouldn’t mistake it for anything else.”

She used the term and Shiro still didn’t quite know what she meant by the term nexus.

The woman seemed to sense Shiro’s question. “Nexuses are like water springs. They are conduits of the earth’s energy that bubble up to the surface. Roppon has more than all other continents on Goriath combined. There is an emergence of the nexus just to the north of here.”

Shiro frowned. These nexuses must be the power lines in the earth. He headed south to Boriako, but thought he might want to see what a nexus looked like. “What do these nexuses do?”

“You recharge your magical powers more quickly.” She shrugged.

“So if I used up my magic, a nexus would make me more powerful?”

The woman shook her head. “Never more powerful. Your Affinity allows you to only absorb so much and then your power is full. When you use magic, your power is depleted and you’ll feel tired and your abilities degrade. The nexus will top that up, just like filling up a water jar.”

Shiro finally understood. “How far? I’d like to see this nexus.”

“Heading for Boriako? The nexus is to the north—”

“North is the opposite direction of where I need to go in the morning,” Shiro said. The feeling of disappointment inside surprised him.

The woman gave him a look of curiosity. “It’s about an hour or so north of here. I’ll give you instructions in the morning. When you reach a big meadow, you’ll see an outcropping of orange rocks. The nexus is underneath them. From there, head northeast to the port of Hoksaka. If you looked at a map, it would seem longer. If you end up taking a ship to Boriako from Hoksaka, you’ll arrive at your guild nearly a week faster than traveling south and taking a ferry to Roppon Isle.”

Shiro went out to the back of the inn to use the latrine and the well to wash. He walked back in to find a meal waiting for him. He found the food fresh and delicious and wondered why the inn didn’t enjoy more popularity.

“You’re not that far out of the way. You’re a good cook. I’d expect more travelers to stay here.”

The innkeeper laughed, more of a cackle really. “I don’t need many customers to be happy. More travelers, more work. Those who I like, get my best cooking for free. Those I don’t…” she shrugged and then grinned.

“You like me?” Shiro said taking another bite.

The grin disappeared. “Promise that you will seek my inn should you ever need shelter of any kind on the Northern Isle.” The woman took on a look of deadly seriousness. “A person like you may need friends outside the guild at some point in your career.” She flashed half of a grin Shiro’s way and winked. “If you survive.”

“I intend on surviving and I won’t forget your offer.” He smiled. Why would he ever need shelter if he headed for a life at the Boriako guildhouse? Shiro nodded to promise, so he considered that as cheap payment for the very good meal.

Shiro headed north the next day, stopping by a stream near the road to fill his empty waterskins. He wandered north for a while and found the track the woman had suggested. He nearly lost his way through a forest as he ascended into coastal hills and threaded through a rocky gully and stopped. Below him lay a large green valley with little pockets of woods.

He picked his way down the trail and enjoyed just riding through the place. He stopped at the rocky outcropping and could feel a buzz in his mind. Hobbling his horse, so it could pick it’s way through the wild grain stalks that littered the meadow; he climbed up on the rocks and sat down. The buzzing continued and he closed his eyes.

So this must be a nexus. He felt the power flow through him and automatically hummed until his tone matched the buzzing, and then he could feel his body expand as it never had. Could this be the recharging that the old innkeeper had talked about? It must be.

He spent the rest of the day camped in the meadow, still trying to come to some understanding of why he had power. The buzz from the nexus kept him awake so he had to move further away to sleep for the night. In the morning he sat back up on the rock and hummed the tune again. This time he felt a well being, but no expansion. He had filled his body’s jar of magical power. The thought of having such power still astonished him, but he still would rather be powerless and live in Koriaki with his wife and children. He sighed with melancholy at thoughts of the irretrievable past.

~

Shiro hadn’t been quite prepared for Hoksaka. The city amazed him as soon as he came in sight of it. He’d never seen any city so big before. Few buildings were made out of the whitewashed plaster and timber construction of most of the dwellings in Koriaki. Most of the buildings had roofs of colored tile rather than the more common thatch in Koriaki. He noticed grimy awnings and banners. It looked like city people didn’t take down their building decorations at night.

Chattering people thronged through the smoothly paved streets. From the insistence of their voices, it seemed that most of them were cursing. Koriaki was never so chaotic. As he rode past all of the people, no one cared to notice him. He felt very small. In Koriaki, even though a number of villagers didn’t care for him, they still nodded and were polite. Here all such conventions seemed to disappear. Hoksaka just didn’t appear to be a very happy city. Boriako would certainly be worse. He felt homesick.

   His horse clopped onto a smooth hard surface he had never seen before. Imagine pavement not made with stones, but hard like stone. Even some of the houses and buildings had foundations and walls of the gray material that paved the streets. There were wonders here amid the curse of crowds and grime. Hoksaka seemed to be filled with new odors. He paused to take a deep breath and smelled the salty tang of the ocean amidst the myriad of less pleasant smells.

He tied up his horse and walked into an eating bar. It sold rice wine and grilled chicken on skewers that could be dipped into an array of sauces.

“Concrete,” the man next to him said when Shiro asked about it. “They have quarries where they find cement, the key ingredient. You mix it with lime and sand and it hardens, like ceramic, but it only needs to dry. No firing.”

“It’s a wonder,” Shiro said. He realized he sounded just like the country bumpkin that he was. “I’m sure there are other wonders in Hoksaka.”

The man’s eyes grew, “Many wonders? I’d hardly call most of what goes on around here wonderful.” He laughed. “You better not spend too much time in town. Hoksaka will chew you up and spit you out without a care of what damage it has done.”

Shiro understood the advice. He had to get to Boriako before he could think about enjoying the darker side of a city. Hoksaka probably had many, many more opportunities to go astray, however, he knew that Boriako would be the worst.

“Do you know of an inn where I can spend the night?” Shiro asked.

The man eyed his tattoo. “You should go to the Hoksaka Sorcerer’s Guild. I hear you people take care of their own,” the man said.

So Shiro accepted the advice and found the Sorcerer’s Guild amidst the very best estates in the city after wandering around and asking for directions many times.

“I’m going to the capital for training.” Shiro showed his tattoo to the guard at the gate. “I need to spend the night and find a boat to sail to Boriako.”