Michael Chatfield
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Ilus Rises: Chapter 17 Part 2 of 2
🕑 Added 2024-02-16 12:00:10 +0000 UTCValter traced a finger through one of Desari’s books, glancing at a ritual drawing Mya had put down.
“I never knew that you could recharge cores,” Valter looked up from his work.
“What did you use to store mana in your enchantments?” Desari frowned.
Valter rested his hand over his chest, the pain of his core torn apart, melded to armor. A calling—a prison.
“Cores and one’s own mana were used to power our weapons.” His head dipped in remembrance. “Within the Sanctus Renatus Chosen were melded with their Sarcophagi Immortalis. Their core cracked and fused with their armor.” He smelt the iron, tasted it in his throat. The bindings digging into his flesh as he cackled at the pain.
What was the pain of blood and bone, of iron cutting into his very being? That outstretched hand holding a burned bear. Asha’s broke body unable to protect Annabelle.
He spat to the side as something cracked something that was newly essential to him. Power was torn from him, his senses expanded to the armor that lay around him.
His metal legs and arms clashed against the reinforced steel bands that held them supine.
Sacrophytes in their red robes pushed his chest and stomach closed, the broken ribs grinding against one another, eliciting another half-mad yell.
He dropped back onto the table, its cold steel relief, as he gasped, careful to keep himself from breathing too deep.
A sacrophyte looked over him with a clinical detachment.
“It looks like he will survive. The enchantments have taken hold. Move your left fingers.”
“I don’t have fingers,” Valter growled.
The Sacrophyte looked at the armor set to the side and raised his eyebrow. “You do now.”
Valter looked over, wheezing through the pain and the haze of incense, cloying and covering the smells of the anointment.
The arms shifted, the hands tightening with his own remaining arm, and with the one he was missing. He glanced down his side instead of over his chest, it was too painful to lift himself up.
Like his arm his armor moved with his leg and foot that wasn’t there, steel scraping against steel.
“Armor him.” The Sacrophyte said.
His backplate rose up under him, the breastplate’s channels now filled with Orange. It locked into his backplate, shifting his ribs to hold them into place. Other pieces were lowered into place and locked to one another. His helmet was the last piece lowered in place. Instead of obscuring his vision he looked through it as if it didn’t exist.
“Your very core?” Desari asked. “You can’t be serious.”
Valter just nodded his head slightly. “Wouldn’t suggest it to another.”
Mya grunted and rubbed her chest with the side of her hand.
Valter pushed on, not wanting to rest on painful memories. “We’re going to need three enchantments as far as I can see. One to concentrate the mana, then another to draw in the excess that isn’t being absorbed a third to interlink them.”
“Mithril can only hold two enchantments though,” Desari said.
Valter put three metal plates on the table. “Going to be using steel.”
“You’re going to set them up like they’re interlinked rituals,” Mya said.
“I think so? Its how I have multiple enchantments on my armor without it interfering with one another. Instead of looking at them as piece by piece I look at them as if they were each a soldier in a unit, each has a part to play for the whole.” Valter checked the book again, taking out a piece of chalk. He rolled it between his fingers focusing on a metal plate and started tracing out the runes.
“I’m thinking doing one central plate, then cut up the other two so they go around each of the inner plates.”
“Won’t it all count as one formation?” Desari asked.
“The interlinking formation will separate them. There is also enough metal on each to create a separate enchantment without mana jumping.” Valter kept working. “We’ll be limited by the steel in how much mana we can put through it, and how much it’ll store back into the cores. I’m going to add in runes that will stop the plates from drawing in more mana than the metal can handle.”
“So we’re still going to have mana loss.”
“Yes, just not as much.”
“Plus Mesurial can suck up the extra can’t your girl?” Mya patted the table.
Valter swore the cabin shifted in agreement.
“So Mesurial…? Is she a soul bound beast to the ship?” Desari asked.
“Got it, she was a kraken. Though she got killed by poachers. We offered to house her in a ship and she agreed. When we built the ship, it was with her in mind. Nearly each of our ships had the spirit of some sea beast within. Only the willing though. You don’t want to lash a sea beast to your ship that you killed or doesn’t like you,” Mya shook her head. “Though that don’t stop some of the darker arts inclined crews.”
Valter pushed a plate to the side and started on the second.
Mya and Desari studied it and added in their own alterations, evening out the shapes and refining the runes. Shapes helped to organize the runes. While the runes themselves were the instructions.
“What’s that one?” Mya pointed to a chain of runes Desari had written. Valter peered over.
“Mana control, it’ll cap the height that the mana goes to, so it doesn’t just shoot up into the sky,” Desari said.
Each added in their own information, the chalk outlines changing several times.
“Anything else?” Valter asked.
“No,” Desari shook her head.
“Nope, I’ll go check on Petor, see he hasn’t passed out from mana backlash and make sure we aren’t wildly off course,” Mya headed to the door.
Valter drew out his tools and put them on the table.
“This should help with the formation,” Desari took out a potion bottle filled with a thick dark blue-green liquid and put it on the table as Mya walked out of the door.
“Thank you.”
Desari nodded and jogged for the door, Mya leaving it open for her as she headed up the stairs to the poop deck above.
Valter drew out his enchanted chisels, mana flowed through them, the edges distorting with heat. With an exhale he began on the metal, the smell of burnt chalk, carbon and iron filling the air as he worked.
***
Petor breathed in deeply, he was working with just one thread again, he’d got up to four threads before they started to unravel too quickly to control.
I still want to get in deeper.
A whistle caught Petor’s attention.
“What’s up?” He asked without opening his eyes, fighting to keep the thread from touching the sides of the gem.
“Been at it for like three hours,” Mya said. “Valter finished up the enchanted plates.”
“Umm is there a way to release it?” Petor asked sheepishly.
“Cut your connection and let it flow away from you,” Desari said. “or draw it back to yourself.
Petor started withdrawing the thread through the gem, it wasn’t as hard as tracing a path through He started going faster a piece touching the side of its pathway.
“Ah fuck a tree sideways! Damn!” Petor gripped his head and chest.
“Well, might have to work on that one!” Mya said. “A tree, sideways.” Mya shook her head. “Nope, mental picture is stuck, you bastard.” She started hitting her head.
Valter grunted as he stepped forward with a metal plate. “Yeah, I don’t like that image one bit.” He put it under the gem, it was carved in runes and a circular formation.
“Good try, it is better to draw your mana back into yourself, or fold up your spell. That way you cycle that mana back into your channels to use again. If you just release it you lose it,” Desari said. “Don’t fuck a tree, they don’t deserve it.”
Petor tried to give her his best stink eye, but it slid off of her slight grin.
“No winning with this crew.” He pushed himself to his feet, watching Valter.
There was a single carved metal square with a perfect circle in its center. Four large patches connected two more metal circles to the main square. Each carved with runes filled with what looked like a dark green wax.
Valter checked the positioning twice before putting his fingers on a smooth section of the plate.
His mana flowed through the runes, gathered in the circle. Orange light rose from the plate and wrapped around the gem and its rings.
Desari moved forward and put her hands on either side of the gem before closing her eyes. “Its working. About sixty percent transmitted I think.”
Petor reached out for the oath between him and Valter and let his mana flow down it.
Valter shifted before looking at Petor.
“Well can do the work of two of us,” Petor smiled.
Valter snorted. “Well I think that it would be a good idea to put it somewhere a bit more comfortable and set watches for everyone to put mana in.”
“We can all use it as a training device to increase our mana control as well. Remember slow and thin. The deeper you can go and the more points you can enter through, the greater the mana transmission will be,” Desari said.
“We could split up the gem, each pick different entry points. Then I drain cores and spread out that power between all of us?” Petor asked, the head and core ache coming under control.
“We’d lose a lot with the steel plate all doing it at once,” Desari said. “I would suggest we all look at threading into the gem to increase the amount of mana we pass through. Then anything that we miss will coat the gem because of the other formations and they’ll store the excess spreading out , in the cores.”
“We also need to keep an eye on the seas and the sails filled. Don’t want them chase ships coming out of nowhere and finding us,” Mya said. “Move it down to the planning room below and we’ll switch off. Valter, Petor and myself, Desari on the waters and winds.”
Desari gritted her teeth and then relaxed her jaw. “It should speed up the rate that we can use it.”
“And hopefully it will be useless with a way to the abyss,” Petor said.
“Never a bad idea to have a way to jump away from an unwinnable fight,” Valter stood. “Now how do we move this gem thing?”
“Here,” Desari stepped forward.
***
Crixim woke to the pounding on his door. It was not doing favorable things for his head, pounding with the remains of the night’s drinking.
“Wah izzit?” He growled from his bed.
“Get up Crixim, there’s a group of inspectors ‘ere, said they needah talk to you about the Spindle and Silver Oar.” Thalios’ voice came through the door.
He’d been kicked off his ship with those that thought it wrong to attack the people that saved their own skins.
Also damn good drinker.
“I’m coming yah bastard.”
Crixim exhaled and pushed himself up, his brain sloshing around painfully. He half closed one eye, pulling on the jacket he’d thrown on a nearby chair, grabbing his sword belt.
He opened the door, Thalios waiting for him, a few of the crew were poking their heads out of their rooms. It was cramped, but it wasn’t a hammock and he’d made sure they all got some rum and food into their bellies. If it all stayed down that’s on them.
He grinned remembering Caelum taking an exuberant drink of rum as he relayed what he’d seen. The Four Horsemen tearing through the inspectors and those that went with Zilthor.
Thalios tilted his head back in greeting.
“What they want?” Crixim asked, adjusting things to look more presentable.
“Didn’t tell me nothing, but they got papers. Weren’t forcing nothing, but they look jumpy.”
“Krev’s lads?” Crixim moved down the hall.
“Word on the morning wind is Lord Osori killed the prick last night.”
“You sleep?” Crixim raised an eye at Thalios.
Thalios rubbed the back of his head. “Well there’s this lass I know round ‘ere.”
Crixim quirked a grin. “So that’ll be a no.”
Thalios shared in the grin.
Crixim chuckled and slapped him on the shoulder, moving out the hallway of rooms and into the tavern.
A bar against one side was cleaned up from the night food replacing rum as waitresses grabbed steaming plates and dropped them off at tables.
Everyone was eyeing the sea-leathered inspectors, sticking out a new lad who never been on a ship before.
“Captain Crixim?” One of the inspectors asked, a severe looking woman. Crixim stood straighter, those lines, that figure. Those leathers. She was calm, composed, deadly.
“Yes Ma’am, what can I do for you this mornin’?” He stepped up and offered his hand.
She quirked an eyebrow and took out papers.
He grimaced, taking them.
“Transfer of ownership?” His head shot up, frowning.
“You are the cosigned on the Spindle and Silver Oar ships correct?” She asked.
Crixim’s pulled his cheek back before it could turn into a full grimace. “I’m not sure ma’am.”
He was, Zilthor needed a captain to sign off on the ships. Something not even bribes that could get him around.
“Well he is dead, you’re now the owner of both ships. I need you to sign these documents to transfer ownership to yourself fully. As you own the ships you also own Zilthor’s merchantile company.” She looked around the bar. “I’m guessing that you had no part in what went down at the docks?”
“The Four Horsemen saved our lives and Zilthor cared not one fucking bit. Saying that those ships were ours. We were one barrage away from getting sunk. It was only because the pirates wanted our wares that we weren’t dropped into the deep,” Crixim worked his jaw. “They didn’t deserve getting ambushed. Caelum our lad said that they weren’t hurt. Is that true?”
“As far as we can tell,” The woman sighed and shook her head. “Four adventurers killed their way through Zilthor’s people and Krev’s lot then shot out to open sea, taking out the freezing chains along the way.”
Crixim let out a sigh. “Osori will hunt them down now huh?”
The woman winced. “Uhh, well probably not.”
“Oh?”
She studied him and shrugged. “Ah information spreads faster than the mist here. The Elemental Lord is heading this way. The mage, she’s caught his eye. Under his protection.”
“Which Lord?”
“The Lord.”
Crixim’s spine went cold. “No shit. Damn.” He rubbed the back of his neck.
She grunted.
“What’s your name by the way?” Crixim asked.
“Inspector Lirina,” She said.
“Well good to meet you,” he held out his hand. This time she took it and shook it. “Could you help me with this lot?” He held up the papers with a grin. “I’ll pay for you and your lads breakfast.”
She took on a guarded look.
“I uhh, I ain’t so good with my letters,” He dropped his voice.
Her expression smoothed.
“Okay, but watch out my lads eat well. Josef is still growing I swear,” She raised her voice at the name. A younger lad, but with the same rigidness of one trained to fight perked up.
“Barkeep, meals for the inspectors please!”
“Coming right up.”
“And for that sorry sap too,” He nodded to Thalios.
Thalios raised an eyebrow.
“Well if I’m gonna run some merchant shop I best have a good second huh?” Crixim waved Lirina to a nearby table as Thalios sputtered. Something about ‘head in the clouds’ and ‘mucking moron’ though Crixim could hear the soft edge to the words.
Crixim sat and put down the papers, Lirina pulled out a few pages.
“These are two transfers on the ships.” She put them to the side and tapped on the last third. “This is a transfer of the company to you. Take them to Emerald Bank and they’ll verify it all. Now they’re going to need a bit of information—” She went through the documents, sitting next to Crixim, he showed Thalios the man was trustworthy and he hadn’t been lying, Thalios was level headed and the kind of person that would be good to work with.
He finished up the documents as they finished up their meal.
“Thank you for all of this, seriously,” he held Lirina’s eyes. Something made her blush lightly and brush her hair behind her ear.
Crixim’s mouth lifted in a grin.
“So what are you going to do with your ships?” She coughed, pushing onward.
Crixim caught Josef with a knowing grin on his face, the other inspectors wide eyed, one missing her face with her soup, getting it on the table.
“Well,” Crixim scratched his face, unlike the landies he barely grew a beard. and leaned back, looking at Thalios. The bastard’s beard could have nested crows in it.
“I don’t know much about trading to be honest.”
Thalios grimaced. “Me neither.”
Crixim pictured Mesurial her cannon hatches opening, the cannons running forward, the wash of powder, the crack of the air, the whoumpft of impact.
“In the fight against the pirates. I think all of us got a bit stronger,” Crixim looked at Thalios who cocked his head to the side. “Oar is going to need some work on her, Spindle too. Though we don’t have the crew for two ships.”
“Two ships, means less haulin’,” Thalios said.
“What if we weren’t hauling?” Crixim asked. “What if we were huntin’.”
Thalios squinted. “What kind of game you thinking.”
Crixim looked past him at those of the crew that had made it to breakfast.
“The kind with black flags and blacker hearts. The seas ain’t safe out there. Less every year. People be willing to have a ship that can fight among their convoy.” Crixim held his chin looking at the ceiling. Thalios kind enough for him to pull his thoughts together.
“Well that might be the thing. A ship, that looks like a trader but is anything but.” In his mind he saw Mesurial turning, revealing her length. Crixim turned his eyes on Thalios.
He tugged on his beard with one hand. “Pull one over on the pirates.”
“I hear that the Adventurer’s guild just got recent information on pirates coves in the area,” Lirina said.
“Riskier, much riskier,” Thalios said.
“We make coin on the trade, extra for our guns. If nothing happens nothing happens. If something does, then we earn our gold, plus the loot of whatever wanted a piece of us,” Crixim said.
“Ships would need to be well built, mages of a kind like Mesurial so the wind and water don’t pull us to its needs,” Thalios said.
“I know the ways of water and wind. I can teach the crew,” Crixim said. “We got that wood from them ships and we know where to dive for more.”
“Send out Spindle, clear that out, set us up nicely,” Thalios nodded. “I know a few people good with shaping up wood and well Silver Oar got enough holes in her that we could shoot out of her anyway.”
“Cost us a prized penny,” Crixim said.
“It all goes sideways we sell ‘em off and break the crew,” Thalios shrugged.
Crixim grimaced, they could. Could sell it all and walk away with the gold of a haul. Zilthor was cheap with everything, but his faith in the Emeral Bank was famous.
“Alright, lets try it. We won’t be no four horsemen, though we can try,” Crixim said.
“Aye Cap’n,” Thalios smiled.
He smiled back and turned to Lirina.
She studied him, searching for something before she nodded. “Well if you and your crew are looking to learn how to use those things.” She gestured at his blade. “I know a few people who could help out.”
Josef let out a low chuckle.
“Got something to say?” Lirina said.
“Those lessons don’t come easy and there ain’t many that make it through them. Saved my life plenty a time. Though I know I wished I was dead throughout the training,” Josef’s grin took on a darker edge.
Something old, something deep that Crixim thought he’d left behind in his crewman days flared back into life within him. “I think I’d be interested to see just how hard it is.”
“A proper fighting ship, hidden under the wood and sail of a trader. Be dangerous, but could be fun,” Thalios said.
And not again will we be at the mercy of another.
