The Scholar's Tale (Original Fantasy)

Book II, Chapter 1

"All it takes for evil to triumph is discord among good men."-The Swordsaint;

I only heard the sound of shattered metal after the ship tilted to one side.

One moment, Sahmui was grining at me, taunting me. The next, he was buried to the deck up to his shoulders, upside down. The Swordsaint was standing next to to him, gauntlets shaped into spinning, serrated blades. Her scarred face showed anger and...dissapointment. Like she had expected this, but hoped it would not happen.

'You damned fool,' she said to the downed swordsman, anger bubbling underneath the calm tone. 'This is not Ghyrria! You cannot delve into people's minds because they  might be dangerous!'

I was shocked at the display of strength. Ib's jump months ago, which would have cleared mountains, had not even dented the deck, let alone almost flipped the ship.

Was Sahmui still alive? If so, he was as monstrously tough as the Swordsaint was strong.

'And you...' She turned her thunderous gaze to the other Ghyrrians, who did not seem altogether surprised by this. 'You should have warned him, like I did, not that he listened to me. He cannot do this here.'

'I think you'll find that he just did-' Rhonne began, her smile partly visible in the shadows of her cowl. The Swordsaint closed the twelve metres separating them so fast I didn't see anything. Suddenly, she was standing next to the railing, holding Rhonne by the throat with one hand. She tossed the rogue thirty metres away, to the Lantern, so fast Rhonne's body caught fire. Even after she landed on the glowing ship, smashing a hole through the deck, there was a trail of smoke in the air.

Sahmui had pushed himself out of the hole in our deck by now, shaking his head like a dog with water in its ears. He turned to look at the Swordsaint, frowning, then saw her face, thought better and looked away.

'You four,' the Swordsaint said, looking at Lhansyl, Arhanne, Whayzir and Shaiam. 'Take that moron,' she gestured at Sahmui. 'And go back to your ship. Now.'

'Splitting the party?' Sahmui said sardonically, arms crossed. 'You always warn us not to do that.'

'Be happy I didn't split you in half,' the Swordsaint said flatly. 'Get out of my sight. Now. I have to make amends.'

'Wait,' Ib said, holding up a hand, having seemingly shaken off the daze caused by Sahmui's power. 'Please. I must... I must understand...'

The Swordsaint raised an eyebrow, but Ib was focusing on Sahmui. 'You did something to me. To us,' It told the swordsman. 'For a moment, I... I remembered what I was, but...' Ib clutched at its head, body rippling in sheer frustration. 'I've forgotten again! What have you done!?'

Sahmui sighed. 'You are free, as always. As you were meant to be. For now, this means being free of the truth of your origin. It is not my place...' He trailed off at Lhansyl's meaningful cough.

'Even if I used my Mantle again, or told you what I've seen, it would not help. You must return where you began to remember yourself. Otherwise, the truth will keep slipping through your fingers.'

Ib, for the first time since I've met it, looked lost. Then, its face morphed into a wrathful grimace.

'You are useless to me,' it ground out. Then, it looked away from Sahmui and to his fellow adventurers. By now, they had risen from their seats and were looking uncertain.

'I am not your keeper,' it told the Ghyrrians. 'Travel Midworld at your leisure. But do not cross our path again, or I will send you back to Ghyrria. In pieces.'

Sahmui looked ready to argue, then looked at his teammates and shook his head.

'Let them be,' he said disdainfully, turning to walk away from me and my crewmates. 'They have whored themselves out for money for so long, they have forgotten virtue exists.'

'Are you going to leave, or do you need some help?' Mharra asked, his usual smile tight and strained. "I've a kick to the arse in my pocket."

Sahmui scoffed, then jumped the thirty metres to his ship faster than I could see, the air cracking with a sound like thunder. Lhansyl and Arhanne followed, just as fast. Finally, Whayzir shot us all an apologetic look, then teleported away.

The Swordsaint sighed, then walked to a seat and sat down, face in her hands. She almost looked a fraction of her five hundred and twenty years.

'Forgive me,' she said. 'I thought this would be the beginning of a beautiful friendship, not...' She looked at the glowing ship, which was already sailing away. Sahmui stood on the deck, and his face showed a mixture of annoyance and...guilt?

As if.

'Creature!' He cried out, pointing a finger at...me? No, at Ib. 'Seek the Free Fleet! Remember, there is no crueller chain than being master of your fate and not knowing your path!'

Was...was he quoting? One of the Free Fleet's early Admiral-Elects had said that...

I looked at Ib, but it just seemed confused. Sahmui's parting words had not helped, it seemed.

Much like his previous ones.

Ib looked from him, to me, then to the Swordsaint. She shook her head.

'Forgive me. I do not know what he meant.'

'It's alright,' Ib said, voice not quite cracking. 'Maybe he's given us a clue.'

My friend sounded like it was trying to convince itself more than her.

Three harrumphed. 'Or maybe he meant to send us on a wild goose chase, as a final insult. Arsehole...'

'Even so...' Ib said, face morphing into a shaky smile. 'Even so, it gives us something to do. And if it  is a wild goose chase...well, I never truly expected to learn what I am.'

'Ib...' Mharra said, smile falling away. He walked to the giant, his short, stocky body not even reaching its waist, and tried to embrace it.

Ib laid a huge hand on Mharra's back, almost covering it. Its smile briefly widened, looking more sincere. 'It's alright, sir. You've always had more faith in me than I did.'

Even today, I would be hard-pressed to say who was comforting who.

After they parted, Mharra's eyes were shining, though not with joy. 'Well!' He clapped his hands, trying to grin confidently. 'We've got our next stop! I've always wanted to sail with the Free Fleet!'

'The Free Fleet, captain? Why? Are we going to perform there?' Ib asked, incomprehension in its voice.

We briefly glanced at each other. Sahmui had been right, it seemed. Being told about its past did not help Ib. But to already forget?

'Yeah, Ib,' Three said, trying to grin cheerfully. 'You're gonna give them the show of their lives!'