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Dagger & Deception Page 5
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The waters of the Nabavodel Ocean granted strength and speed to those who drank of them, giving rise to a large number of mercenary warriors throughout the continent. The waters of the Gradaken Ocean granted control over plants and animals to those who drank of them, ensuring that the agricultural assets were well developed, so that the billions of people there were consistently fed. Yet, farming was a means of survival and not a path to great profits. The waters of the Ursegan Ocean granted longevity to those who drank of them, yet those with that waterbinding did not want to spend their long lifetimes struggling in Waderav: even Chroniclers of the Oath visited only for specifically assigned duties, rather than out of any personal curiosity. The most lucrative economic opportunities for those who lived in Waderav all began with a common first step: that of leaving Waderav.
The crew of a mercenary ship had made its way from the continent of Waderav to Udovedaj-Pren Island in the Ikkith Tar Ocean. They had heard of the stories of the Ahitan woman and her tiara of power. They also heard the rumors of her possible presence on this island, and planned to find and kill her. They were drinkers of the waters of the Nabavodel Ocean, which made them strong and nimble. The kind of power it gave made them great warriors, and those waters were known as the “tiger waters” with good reason. These men were powerful combatants: highly experienced, finely-trained, and possessing excellent innate potential for the use of the waters they drank.
The Ikkith Tar Ocean was responsible for many ships getting lost, due to the visual distortions its waters caused in the air above. After all, it was the ocean that gave the power of darkness and hiding, and even creating coldness from the darkness, to those who drank of its waters. The mercenary ship crashed on the shore of Udovedaj-Pren, killing forty-three (43) of the one hundred ten (110) men on board. The other sixty-seven (67) were disoriented, but quickly regained their bearings. They rested for a few hours, ate from the supplies they carried on their persons, drank anew of the waters of the Nabavodel Ocean from their vials and exercised their bodies, all to make themselves ready for combat. Repairing their ship would have to wait until later.
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All the while, they were being watched by a murderous thief, who was waiting for the proper moment. He needed to find his target.
The men started to make their way into the forested interior of the island, and the thief watched their every movement.
The thief was less concerned with where the warriors moved than with how they moved. He watched how they carried their weapons, be it a sword or a dagger or a bow and arrow or an axe. He watched how nimble they were. He watched how directly they walked. He found twelve (12) warriors whom he wanted out of the sixty-seven (67) whom he saw. Then, he drank the waters of the Nabavodel Ocean from the ornate vial that he carried on a chain around his neck. He was energized most fantastically, and made his move.
Like a flash of lighting, the thief struck ferociously, killing one after another until he had murdered the fifty-five (55) less desirable warriors. His sword slashed one, then another. Alternately, the thief disappeared, became immaterial, and reappeared elsewhere, striking his next victim with his sword, and then disappeared and became immaterial again, such that no one could catch him. The weakest and slowest warriors – relatively weak or slow, anyway – had no chance.
The remaining twelve (12) warriors were another matter. They moved too quickly, and the thief had a harder time hitting them. This made them valuable. His clever swordplay, rather than speed, disarmed them, for they matched his speed when he appeared. When the thief disappeared to become immaterial, they could not catch him, but he could not strike at them, so he had to reappear and become material again. In the material world, they were faster than the thief, and he sustained injuries.
The thief was able to defeat three (3) of these, but then suffered a mortal wound by one of the remaining nine (9). He was pleased.
“I thank you, sincerely, joyfully, for this defeat you have dealt me,” the thief said to the one who had caused the mortal wound.
Now, the thief moved to steal what he came for. His very spirit left the body which was now dying and leapt into the body of the superior warrior that struck him the fatal blow. That warrior’s spirit was displaced, and left for whatever fate he would have had in the afterlife had he died any other way. The thief neither knew nor cared what that fate was: the body of the superior warrior was now his. He merely removed the small, ornate vial of water hanging on a chain around the neck of the body that just died, and carried it on the new body. He spilled out the waters from the ornate vial, and then took a vial carried on a chain around the neck of the new body, poured the waters from it into the ornate vial, and then drank the waters from there.
The thief was not, however, satisfied. There were still eight (8) warriors left, but they had scattered and he would have to chase them.
He struck the other warriors, and was able to use the same maneuvers of disappearing and reappearing, killing seven (7) of them quickly. Then, the last warrior dealt the thief two (2) blows with daggers from a distance, wielded with stunning skill. Either one of the daggers would have been fatal, penetrating his eye and his neck. The thief was now utterly delighted at being killed by this magnificent warrior. The pain from the daggers, as usual, meant nothing to him.
“I thank you, sincerely, joyfully, for this defeat you have dealt me,” the thief said, with his dying breaths, to the warrior who had dealt the fatal blows.
The thief then moved his spirit into that last warrior’s body, whose own spirit was now cast off into the afterlife to suffer whatever fate that destiny held. The thief then removed the ornate vial from the body of the warrior who just died, and carried it on the new warrior body. He poured out the waters from the ornate vial, and filled it with the waters from the vial that was carried on a chain around the neck of the newer body, and then drank the waters from there.
The thief had won.
The name of the thief was Lavakara. He was ancient at twelve thousand four hundred ninety-seven (12497) years old. Yet, he never touched the waters of the Ursegan Ocean to gain his longevity. Instead, he found a way to steal the bodies of others – male warriors – by moving his spirit into their bodies. He originally drank the waters of the Zovvin Ocean to power his spiritual magic. The bodies into which he moved were almost always waterbound to the Nabavodel Ocean waters. This meant that, when inhabiting these bodies, he could not freely drink other waters, such as the Zovvin Ocean waters which powered his spirit transfer. Drinking two (2) or more of the different great waters meant only one thing: crixalethicis, the incurable disease, which would utterly destroy the drinker. There was no way around it.
Logically, the laws of the ocean waters and the spirit movement technique should have limited him to one (1) of two (2) strategic options. The first option was that he would have to restrict his choice of targets to move only into the body of another drinker of the Zovvin Ocean waters, so that he could continue to drink Zovvin waters and continue to make the spirit transfers. The second option would have limited him to be able to make only one (1) move into the body of a drinker of some other water besides Zovvin, preferably the body of a warrior who drank the Nabavodel Ocean waters for speed and strength. At that point, he would have to make the most of that body and whatever water – Nabavodel, most likely – that it was bound to drink for the remainder of its natural life.
Lavakara realized in his youth that he was faced with a pair of highly undesirable options and a third, utterly disastrous option.
Since drinkers of the Zovvin Ocean waters were typically not fine warriors, he did not choose the first option of limiting his movements to be only into the bodies of other Zovvin water drinkers.
Since he did not want to lose his ability to make repeated spirit movements – and he wanted to keep the ability, because even a warrior’s body will become weaker with natural aging – he did not choose the second option, of making only a single move, into the body of a drinker of a water other than
Zovvin, thereby being confined within that body until the end of its mortal life, and then dying permanently.
Because mixing two (2) or more great ocean waters in one (1) body – by, for example, drinking Nabavodel waters to energize the warrior body into which he had moved, giving it strength and speed, and then drinking Zovvin waters to power his spiritual movement into another warrior’s body after the current one began to weaken – meant suffering the fatal crixalethicis, that was not a desirable option, either. It would have been an immediate – and disastrous – defeat.
Fortunately for Lavakara, he had a fourth option, because he had the ultimate vial: the ornate vial was intricate in its appearance and stunning in its capability. It was a vial that could take any great ocean water and add something of great value to it. Whichever great ocean water was poured into the ornate vial would continue to be the great ocean water that it was, so as to satisfy the waterbinding of the body into which he moved his spirit, and provide whatever power for which that great ocean water was known. However, the ornate vial would also add to that the spiritual power of the Zovvin Ocean waters without actually requiring the presence of the Zovvin Ocean waters.
Lavakara had effectively gained the spiritual power of the Zovvin Ocean waters plus the power of any other great ocean water to which a body that he captured was waterbound.
This latest male warrior body, like most that he stole, was waterbound to the Nabavodel Ocean waters. It had a high innate potential for combat, was highly trained, and had been specialized to use small weapons, like short swords and daggers.
Lavakara enjoyed the excellent combat abilities of this new warrior body. He also believed that, when the time came, it would be useful for hunting down and destroying the Ahitan woman known as Victoria, because he recognized her possession of the tiara as a severe and credible threat. However, Lavakara didn’t believe that she was actually anywhere on or near this island: the Ahitan were famous for their demon-worshipping rituals, and demons always taught their servants the art of deception, so the suggestion of her hiding here was likely a ruse. However, it was enough that everyone else believed that Victoria might be here, and he had a plan for when they arrived.
CHAPTER 6: Determination of Youth
Besides its farmers and robber barons, the southern continent of Waderav was home to many nomadic tribes and small villages, trading in low value minerals, low purity waters, high quality lumber, high quality livestock, fresh fruits and produce as well as various services, such as carpentry, baking and tailoring and impressive mercenary fighting. These nomads and villages had loose trade agreements that held them together, but no empires had any meaningful presence here. The lack of good mining opportunities had much to do with it, despite the fact that the farm land was of a very high quality. The benefit of high quality food over that which was merely adequate, however, was considered less important than the benefit of high quality gems and diamonds by most imperial powers. The big timber that was abundant in Waderav was ideal for ship construction, but the actual skills for doing so were rarely found on the continent: most of those who had mastered the craft left to work in the shipyards of Javanda for much better pay.
The robber barons of Waderav were numerous, powerful and cruel. They made life difficult for many, and roving bands of their hired mercenaries served to extort the many inhabitants. This was the reality from north to south and from east to west.
Some inhabitants, however, fought back.
Brant was a big, boisterous bear of a man, at thirty-seven (37) years of age. He drank the waters of the Nabavodel Ocean, which made him strong and nimble, but much more strong than nimble. He could carry any weapon and swing it with far more power than anyone was prepared to stop. He could hurl seven hundred (700) pound stones, and had done this on occasion, when a suitable sword or axe wasn’t available. He wasn’t afraid of a good fight – he was afraid of the lack of one.
Zoe was very thin and light, and was often mistaken for being far younger than the twenty-nine (29) years old she actually was. She had eagle eyes, and drank the waters of the Lujladia Ocean, which let her bend light, to the point where she could see anything, no matter how quickly it moved, and she could see around corners and over long distances. She couldn’t lift much, and didn’t need to, because her bow and arrow was lightweight and powerful and she never missed. Not even one in one thousand (1/1000) times. If she had one (1) good sighting of her target, it was dead. No hurling of stones was necessary. She was the opposite of Brant – and a perfect match.
Brant and Zoe were in love without being openly affectionate. They traveled together, bought food together, ate together, spent long periods of time happily saying nothing whatsoever together, and killed many bandits and pirates together. They had plenty to say, of course, and laughed together, as well, especially when they put down a group of bandits that attacked a village to steal its food or the small amount of money that it used to trade for goods.
Brant enjoyed throwing a three hundred (300) pound stone at bandit’s head and snapping it clear off of their neck. He also enjoyed dropping a stone on their head, but throwing the stone was definitely his favorite tactic. He had a strong sword that could cut right through most stones, which was good because he could swing it with enough power. He kept it around for when nothing heavy was available, but preferred big, blunt objects, because they could hit a larger target and produced a satisfying sound. He hated thieves, pirates and bandits, and every other vile person. Crushing them was justice, and he loved justice.
Zoe shared Brant’s sense of justice, but didn’t exactly enjoy the kill. She considered it necessary – definitely necessary – but not fun, or something she wanted to savor or make the most of. But the ones she killed – murderers, abductors, extortionists, thieves and other foul fiends – had it coming, and had to be stopped. They had to be stopped dead in their tracks. She never missed one of them with her arrows.
Sea travelers transported goods of all sorts from distant lands to the different port towns of Waderav, although the busiest of these was the port town of Oxatrissa in the northwest. Brant and Zoe kept close to this port for most of the time, as the best trade deals were to be had there. They heard the stories from the sea travelers who arrived in Oxatrissa about this mysterious and evil Ahitan woman, and her tiara of power, and the danger that it posed. They heard that she was in hiding, until the heat wave ended, and the power of the tiara would become effective, giving her rule over the seas, and then the world. They also heard that she was hiding on some mysterious island that was hard to reach, and the threat she represented was so large that it was a call to action.
They would find this Victoria – the Ahitan woman with her tiara of power – and smash her head with a boulder, or just put an arrow through her heart, or both. Brant was hoping this would happen several times, just to be sure she was stopped, of course.
“As if it isn’t bad enough here already, now that freak witch wants to make storms and murder the whole world,” Zoe said.
“I don’t know how anybody can make storms on the oceans,” Brant said.
“Nobody’s questioning that but you. If it can’t happen, why’s everybody afraid? The news came from Emeth, so I’m pretty sure it’s true,” Zoe said.
“They don’t ever make mistakes, do they?” Brant asked.
“Everything written there is probably true. The Chroniclers are always watching what’s going on. You’ve seen them,” Zoe said.
“So there might be storms. We know there really are problems – right here – that we need to fix. We’ve got to fight what we can see…stuff we know really does happen,” Brant said.
“If this Victoria can start her own storms on every ocean, there won’t be a ‘right here’ for us to fix. Think bigger. We save a few people, here and there, from the worst of it. But a lot of people live along the coastlines, and do business when the ships arrive, and they bring us our water. They’ll be wiped out – killed in an instant if some giant storm hits. We c
an’t save that…not with arrows or swords or stones. You can’t kick or punch a tidal wave,” Zoe said.
“So I can hit this Victoria?” Brant asked.
“If we can find her before she starts a storm, you can kill her just for trying. Pick whatever way you want,” Zoe said.
“So finding her is the trick?” Brant asked.
“She’s on that island in the Ikkith Tar Ocean. That’s the ‘dark waters’ – they’re hard to navigate even for the experts. And we’re no navigators,” Zoe said.
“And we don’t have a ship to get there,” Brant said.
“Right. So we hire one,” Zoe said.
“And they’ll take us to that island?” Brant asked.
“First, we should go to Emeth. We can find a guide there, who can tell us how to get to that island. We need to know more about it. Ships get lost on that ocean – whole fleets are lost in the dark waters,” Zoe said.
“I’m all for taking out this crazy lady before she brews up a storm, but us floating around in the dark isn’t going to help anybody,” Brant said.
“Exactly. We need to hire a guide in Emeth, find that island, find Victoria and take her down, fast,” Zoe said.
“You make it sound so easy,” Brant said.