Architecture & Adversity Read online

  “I respect Fantine immensely. At my best – at anyone’s best – they would not measure up to her standards. Yet, we must be careful not to focus on a single line of business. When she fails – and she is human, so she will fail and so will her constructor – it could be disastrous. Precision-designed machines tend to fail catastrophically if they are not calibrated precisely,” Fritz said.

  “I wouldn’t worry about her failing. Just focus on yourself. Not on her. Not on me or my personal matters, either,” Jolene said and walked out of the cabin and onto deck.

  ~~~

  Jolene then headed toward Torin’s cabin and met Akantha on the way.

  “I don’t need to read your thoughts to see that you’re angry,” Akantha said.

  “You don’t need to know why, either,” Jolene said.

  “We work together, on this ship. That also means we live together, on this ship. We need to be friends, or at least help each other out with the life part. Talk to me. Please,” Akantha said.

  “Can a woman be smart? Can she be accomplished?” Jolene asked.

  “Of course. All it takes is the right water, pure enough, if she has a high enough potential. That’s all that matters,” Akantha said.

  “Can a woman have a high enough potential?” Jolene asked.

  “Yes. In fact, she can have it too high. Some men can be a little envious at times. It bruises their egos. I’ve seen that,” Akantha said.

  “That’s what I suspected. Some of them can hide it well, so telepathy doesn’t always reveal it, but it’s there,” Jolene said.

  “Is that what this is about? Don’t you think we need what you offer? You’re great at your job – we can count on you. No matter how good someone else is, if they don’t drink the Elanatin Ocean waters, they can’t do what you do for us,” Akantha said.

  “It’s not about me,” Jolene said.

  “Then who is it about?” Akantha asked.

  “It’s about Fantine. In my life I have never met someone that smart. Never. I’ve only been around her twice and I’ve seen what she does and it totally, totally awes me how carefully she works and what she can do with the crystals, and building the structures,” Jolene said.

  “What are you trying to say? You regret your waterbinding? At times, a lot of us do. That’s the choice we made. We stick with it because we have to, and just make the most of it. No matter what you choose, there’s going to be regrets – out of the other eleven (11) waters, there’s always another one you wish you picked,” Akantha said.

  “There’s something special about her. They don’t see it. Fritz just complains about the hard work to cut the crystals to her standards. What’s the matter with him? She sets the standards. As far as I’m concerned, she is the standard,” Jolene said.

  “This is about her personally? She has extremely high potential – that’s rare. She also has total dedication – that’s also rare. If I did my job as intensely as she did hers, I couldn’t find time for love or friendship. Also, I think I’d go a little crazy and even get possessed – the spirits tend to do that if you spend too much time hanging around with them and connect too closely. Working with crystals doesn’t have that drawback, which is good for her,” Akantha said.

  Jolene laughed at this, realizing that she was being a little too passionate, but she was a passionate woman. That emotional intensity was a sign of her high potential for the Elanatin Ocean waters, and she resonated with them, making her an excellent telepath.

  “You’re right. Thank you for talking – for making me talk. I needed that,” Jolene said. She then headed to Torin’s cabin and Akantha watched as the door closed, knowing what was to happen between them.

  That little tryst was what annoyed Akantha, and she went to her brother’s side in the ship’s chart room. He was the only person she completely trusted, although Captain Pradrock was trustworthy, and she felt confident in his leadership while working on his crew.

  Akylas looked at Akantha and saw the familiar scowl on her face.

  “What’s bothering you now? Ghosts? Bad memories?” Akylas asked.

  “Time,” Akantha said.

  “We both picked the wrong water to live long lives. Time is definitely not on our side,” Akylas said.

  “I’m getting older and I’m still not married,” Akantha said.

  “Well, maybe this isn’t the best line of work to meet a mate, unless you stop in the right port and settle down there,” Akylas said.

  “Maybe. What are you going to do, then? Keep on sailing…out of my life?” Akantha asked.

  “If you get married, you’re going to have a new life. Probably have some kids. I can’t be your only relationship – or even your main one,” Akylas said.

  “She’s going to have his kids, sooner or later,” Akantha said.

  “You’re jumping all over the place. What’s that got to do with anything?” Akylas asked.

  “She’s way too old for him. He’ll never grow emotionally – it’s just physical between them. That ruins men – even the guys my age sometimes fall into that trap. Some rich older widow seduces them with what’s left of her good looks. He never learns to love a woman as his equal – on his level – to grow together emotionally. That’s not right,” Akantha said.

  “Torin’s a young man – and has his own hardships. He needs to have his own relationships, both good and bad, to learn from. He should enjoy life while he can,” Akylas said.

  “What if he’s in it for the wrong reasons? He’ll just hurt Jolene. Imagine what that will do to her,” Akantha asked.

  “She’s old enough to handle her own emotions and actions. That’s between them. We have to stay out of this,” Akylas said.

  ~~~

  Indigo awoke in Drystan’s arms, lying in the bed in their rented room. She looked at him and loved him with her eyes, and then with her body, wanting to begin the day well, because she never knew for sure if it would end well. After they achieved mutual personal fulfillment by their intimacy, they dressed for the day.

  “We need to be on our way,” Indigo said.

  “Where are we going?” Drystan asked.

  “Javanda,” Indigo said.

  “Where in Javanda?” Drystan asked.

  “We’ll get more information when we get there,” Indigo said.

  “From here, what’s the best way to get to Javanda?” Drystan asked.

  “The best way is to sail east across the northwestern coast of Baradaxa, then northwest along the western coast of the Dark Platinum Road. The precise details of the course I can figure out by listening to the stars again,” Indigo said.

  “Sounds like a plan,” Drystan said.

  “That’s not our plan, though. I’m not looking for the best way. I’m looking for something a little bit worse,” Indigo said.

  “Why worse?” Drystan asked, surprised and amused all at once.

  “We need to make sure we have privacy,” Indigo said.

  “Privacy? We can give fake names,” Drystan said.

  “Yeah, but we need to do better than that. We have to sail across the Ikkith Tar Ocean, out on the open dark waters, and get a little bit lost for a while,” Indigo said.

  “So picking a worse route is what you mean by better?” Drystan asked.

  “Yes. Worse is better when you’re being followed,” Indigo said.

  “Followed by whom?” Drystan asked, becoming alarmed.

  “I’m not sure, but just in case, we have to do it this way. Let’s go,” Indigo said.

  Indigo drank anew of the waters of the Atrejan Ocean from her vial and was energized. She packed up their belongings into their traveling backpacks and left the rented room. From there, they booked passage on a ship heading north across the Ikkith Tar Ocean toward Javanda, paying two (2) platinum coins each.

  ~~~

  After three (3) days of travel on board a ship where he served as navigator in exchange for free passage, Nestor arrived at the western coast of the Uplifter’s Trail land bridge whe
re it met the eastern edge of the Nabavodel Ocean. He disembarked from the ship and then hiked inland. He drank anew of the waters of the Atrejan Ocean and was energized. He could hear the sounds of the stars clearly – just like he could at sea – and then navigated inland, hiking up the mountains. He was in fine health, but this would take too long on foot. He paid five (5) silver coins for passage on a riverboat which carried him over one hundred thirty (130) miles north and west, bringing him to the eastern coast of the land bridge, where it met the western edge of the Gradaken Ocean. At the bank of the river was a small village which he entered.

  From there, Nestor hiked across the village toward an observatory and found a great many mountain trails leading down. He visually inspected these, considering them worthy study for later. He walked a pathway leading to the observatory – a cylindrical stone building with a partial dome at the top. The pathway wound around to the entrance – or what was previously the entrance and was now rubble and broken wood. Inside, he heard footsteps and strange sounds. Unsure of whether it was safe, he stepped backwards out of the line of sight from the broken opening to the observatory.

  After several minutes, Nestor saw a younger man walk out of the observatory and place some human bones and a skull on the ground, arranging them in a particular pattern. From where he stood, he could not be seen by that younger man, but he had witnessed enough to tell him that this was an ally.

  Nestor approached the younger man who placed the bones and said: “Greetings, fellow Explorer. I am Nestor, reader of the stars.”

  “I am Erikkos, seeker of knowledge, by the power of song,” the younger man who placed the bones said.

  “Our paths have joined, so we should journey together, and share knowledge,” Nestor said.

  “Know this: everyone in the observatory was already dead when I arrived, and the building was already breached. They have numerous star charts, so I will need your assistance at once,” Erikkos said.

  Nestor and Erikkos entered the observatory. Therein, Nestor drank anew of the waters of the Atrejan Ocean and was energized again. He examined a number of prominent star charts – noting the melted corpses he had to take them from – and listened to the sounds of the stars in the sky. He sought the past positions of the stars that matched what he saw on the charts, but the charts were damaged.

  “The damaged charts make for an ambiguous reading – they match more than a single previous solar arrangement. Yet, I believe that they could indicate either an area in the Glivoran Trail land bridge, or a chain of islands in the Gradaken Ocean. Precisely which region, and which specific location therein, I am not sure, so we would have to search carefully when we arrive, depending on what you are hoping to find,” Nestor said.

  “I hope to acquire whatever new knowledge is of value. Tell me why you are here. Certainly, your own goal is of interest,” Erikkos said.

  “Many farmers transport their cash crops over this stretch of waters, and the star readers here provide charts of the islands where the goods can be sold. There are standard rates of payment for charts; yet, some few have been priced at nearly triple the rate, as indicated on the chart copies made by the Chroniclers. I followed the ship names and captain’s names to the Sixteenth Hall – the hall of commerce – in the City of Emeth. There, I learned that various herbs and plants were being gathered by a man called Major Doctor Randolph. He is almost certainly a military physician or scientist doing research, either into medicine or poison,” Nestor said.

  “Intriguing find, Nestor. These corpses are melted – not burned by fire. Could this perhaps be that poison in testing?” Erikkos asked.

  Nestor looked more closely at the corpses on the floor and noticed something in the left hand of one of them – a silver cup, partially covered by the torso. He picked it up and saw writing etched into it. “The cup appears to be empty. Yet, there’s an inscription on it, using symbols I am not familiar with,” Nestor said.

  “Perhaps they were tricked into drinking poison – if not compelled. Is there any trace of poison still in the cup?” Erikkos asked.

  “It was not likely a suicide. As to whether the cup contains small amounts of a poison, either an alchemist or an herbalist might be able to determine that. Since I drink neither the Kazofen nor the Gradaken waters, I cannot detect it,” Nestor said.

  “Then I would be cautious in handling that cup. If a drop of poison touches your skin, that may be enough,” Erikkos said.

  “I will be cautious. We should take it with us, to learn more about it,” Nestor said as he took a small leather bag out of his backpack, placed the silver cup into the bag and tied it shut, and returned the bag to his backpack.

  “You said that the star charts are not specific. Where could we travel to learn more?” Erikkos asked.

  “The Glivoran Trail separates the Kazofen, Medathero and Trerada Oceans. It is also the home to stone-worshippers and precious gem miners. There is a trade route along that land bridge between the Ihalik Empire and Jenaldej Empire,” Nestor said.

  “The logical connection is not entirely clear, other than the Trerada Ocean waters being capable of curing the effects of poison – if the victim is not already waterbound to another. It may be a worthwhile exploration to discover the connection,” Erikkos said.

  “Even better than that – the tribes of the Glivoran Trail are familiar with some of the ancient languages, so they may be able to help us decipher the inscription on the silver cup, if we compensate them. We should travel there at once. I can make a star chart for navigation across the oceans to pay for passage for at least one of us, conserving our combined money,” Nestor said.

  “Very good. We should leave at once,” Erikkos said.

  Nestor led Erikkos to the village and they paid for transport on a riverboat, taking them down to the western coast of the Uplifter’s Trail land bridge. From there, they booked passage on a ship heading west across the Nabavodel Ocean. Nestor offered his services to chart the course, so that only Erikkos had to pay.

  That ship traveled first southwest, then northwest, across the Nabavodel Ocean, taking them to the Colossal March Warpath land bridge. There, they stayed in port for a day until they found another transport ship where they could travel under the same arrangement. That vessel took them west across the Medathero Ocean toward the Glivoran Trail land bridge, where they disembarked and began wandering in search of anything out of the ordinary, not knowing exactly what to look for.

  CHAPTER 11: Land of Cruelty and Oppression

  In the eastern central region of the continent of Waderav was the territory of Baron Vizakrid. The area was comprised of five hundred three (503) square miles and contained one hundred sixty-seven (167) towns and villages with a total population of nine hundred forty thousand (940000) persons. The eastern edge of the territory was located one hundred sixty-two (162) miles west of the coast of the Gradaken Ocean.

  In the center of the barony was an imposing castle – a rectangular structure of five hundred seven (507) feet in length and three hundred twenty-nine (329) feet in width, as high as one hundred forty-one (141) feet at its tallest tower – from which Baron Vizakrid ruled. The castle was surrounded by a swampland perimeter two hundred twenty-nine (229) feet wide on all sides. A single fifteen (15) foot wide iron bridge spanned the distance from the castle’s main entrance to the dry land outside its perimeter, suspended nineteen (19) feet over the swamp below.

  The baron stood in his throne room, fully armored. He was strong and stout at forty-one (41) years of age, six (6) feet eight (8) inches tall and he was a drinker of the waters of the Nabavodel Ocean. His throne, situated at the top a flight of ten (10) steps, commanded the room from the back wall. Yet, he rarely occupied it, preferring to take an active role in asserting his authority, so he maintained a state of combat readiness.

  A scribe entered the throne room carrying a book. “Baron Vizakrid, I bring thee an account of the collected taxes in the past year,” the scribe said.

  “I will review it
now,” Baron Vizakrid said as he seized the book from the scribe’s hands and read through it for himself. He looked at page after page, village after village, town after town of tax payment records. Three (3) villages stood out as having paid too little, and two (2) villages stood out as having paid extra.

  “The contributions are lacking in three (3) of the farming villages. Their yield is short by as much as two hundred twenty (220) platinum coins worth of tax on crops,” Baron Vizakrid said.

  “Yes, my lord. However, might out I point out that these two (2) other villages – both of which mine stone around the mountain – have overproduced by an amount that compensates. Perhaps we should adjust the quotas to reflect their differing capacities,” the scribe said.

  “Fraser, why would I lower my expectations when they should raise their productivity?” Baron Vizakrid asked.

  “The soil quality of some farming villages is not equal – the yield of wheat, corn, barley and oats is not of equal value in the areas where the soil is rocky,” the scribe – Fraser – said.

  “These farming villagers drink the waters of the Gradaken Ocean, do they not? Are these not the so-called ‘harvest waters’ that make those who drink them into more capable farmers, so that every seed they touch grows quickly and yields better crops in abundance?” Baron Vizakrid asked.

  “Yes, my lord. However, the Gradaken waters can only grow seeds in soil, not in the rocks which fill the ground in so many areas. Those waters only make the possible become better. They do not make the impossible become possible,” Fraser said.

  “Perhaps we should remove all the rocks from the ground? There are those in my barony who can do that, are there not?” Baron Vizakrid asked.

  “Indeed, my lord. Those who work in the mining villages and drink the waters of the Kazofen Ocean can bend stones and crystals, so that they can cut the rocks from the ground and build with them or sell them. This extraction of stones could expose more of the soil to improve the harvest or it may provide building materials for sale or use. That is perhaps a more profitable approach, my lord,” Fraser said.