The Scholar's Tale (Original Fantasy)

Book II, Chapter 7

"If mortals hope for nothing, they will despair at nothing." Fhaalqi;

It was absurd, but, when I saw the button, gem or jewel embedded in Jalil's flesh, I wanted to touch it.

As a child, I liked shiny things. I think all children do. But I abandoned such trifles when I left Copper's Cradle behind and learned to fend for myself. Trinkets were only useful if you could buy something with them, or trade them, or use them to distract your enemies.

I once stabbed a soothsayer through the eye with a ceremonial knife, though. I suppose she didn't see it coming...and that it wasn't really 'ceremonial'.

The gem, or whatever it was, must have had some sort of attraction charm, or equivalent, on it, then...but I could sense no mana, from it or Jalil. Mana is created by the harmony of body, mind and soul, and can be placed into or on objects, enchanting them, but...as far as my senses could tell, that gem was purely mundane, if beautiful.

Which made no bloody sense. I wasn't that easy to distract...was I?

'Friend,' Mharra said with a strained smile. 'Please, cover that up. It's too pretty to spoil it by exposing it to the world.' So pretty it was, in fact, that Mharra was fingering the hilt of one of his knives. At least he didn't want to tear it out with his bare hands...

'Well,' Jalil said with a strained, slightly nervous smile. 'Judging by your, ahem, reactions...I can tell it still works!'

'What does?' Three asked bluntly, suddenly appearing behind Jalil. Or, rather, making himself visible. I could still feel the ghost's cold presence even when it went unseen. The ex-officer was too cold-blooded to flinch, but one of his eyes twitched as the ghost floated through the table to hover in front of him.

'My...beacon, I suppose you could say. Did you hear what we talked about?' Three shook his head. 'I'm sure your captain will debrief you.'

Three blinked at the word, then grinned slowly. 'Sir,' he told Jalil in an affected voice. 'The only "debriefings" I have with Mharra is when I strip him.'

Mharra laughed, waving Three off. 'He meant I'd relate our discussion, Three.'

'Oh, I know what he meant. But...'

'But. How long have you been waiting to make that joke?'

'I'd tell you, but I'd have to debrief you.'

'You two will have plenty of time for that later,' I said with a small smile, interrupting their flirting. Not that they wouldn't make time if they didn't have it.

'As I was saying,' Jalil carried on, pretending to have heard nothing. 'This is a beacon. Once I activate it, it's going to light up-not literally!' He added at Three's wide eyes and wider grin. 'I mean, it's going to become visible on the Free Fleet's devices. I'm not going to become a walking lantern.'

'Pity,' I said, then coughed behind a hand when he frowned at me.

'As I said, the Fleet "sails" the place between places, possibility itself. How familiar are you with the nature of gods?'

More than you, I wanted to say. The Free Fleet was famous for being one of Midworld's two godless great powers. But unlike the alliance of the King and Queen, and their endless creations, the Fleet had never relied on power to win battles or defend themselves. I suppose it made sense they'd hide in this unfathomable place, but was it truly beyond the gods' reach?

But I was getting distracted. Boasting in my own head about how my knowledge was greater than his was pointless.

The nature of the gods? Well, each one was unique, but they all grew stronger from worship, though they didn't weaken from its absence.

I said those thoughts out loud, and Jalil nodded. 'Observation. The Fleet's thinkers believe the key is observation. Not direct, mind, or even indirect-most gods are so powerful, so strange in nature, that even a glimpse of them can unmake one's existence. But even thinking about them is a form of observation, which empowers them. Do you know what this means?'

'That the gods have very good reasons to convert people to them if they want to surpass their rivals?' Mharra suggested.

'Perhaps,' Jalil nodded. 'But I was more referring to the fact that the perception of the majority shapes reality, or at least aspects of it. Say a tree falls in a forest. There is no one to hear it. Does that mean it makes no sound? Certainly no one hears it, but people who hear of the event say it does.'

'Because they know that is how things work,' Three chimed in.

'Ah-but do they? Perhaps they do because we think they do. Have you ever wondered how the Fleet travels Midworld so swiftly and freely, faster than any other power or nation? It's because their ships are infused with possibility itself. It is why they can simply drop out of the realm of chance and into empty stretches of sea, where there is no one to observe them and say that is impossible, or that they appeared out of nowhere.'

The room was silent for a few moments after this casual revelation of one of the great power's secrets. It was Three who broke the ice.

'You realise you've forfeited your life, right?' the ghost asked, concern in his eyes, though I couldn't tell whether it was for Jalil or for us. 'If the Fleet learns you spoke about how they travel, they'll cut your brain to shreds. Probably try to do the same for us, because we know too.' Hoarfrost gathered on the walls, table and floor as Three stared unblinkingly at Jalil.

'Please.' Mharra did not lay his hand upon Three's arm, but only because it would have passed through it. Even so, a careless watcher might have thought they were touching. 'He's not trying to get us killed. If what you're saying is true...' Mharra glanced at Jalil with one eye, keeping the other on the tense ghost. 'Ib is on deck. Its attention has been frayed since this wild goose chase started, but it can still perceive the world...some of the time. It might not be aware of the way the Fleet travels, but it doesn't need to be, does it? Just watching the horizon and thinking it's empty means they cannot simply appear around us.'

'Then, and I cannot believe I'm saying this, I think you'd better call that thing down here,' Jalil said, placing a fingertip on his gem and leaning back in his chair, eyes closed, brow furrowed.

Ib answered Mharra's call while he was still speaking, closing the distance between the deck and newly-built kitchen(Mharra had seen no need for one before I joined the crew, having been the only member to need sustenance) much, much faster than sound. The metal steamed where the giant slammed to a stop, absorbing the shockwave and flames into its body so we wouldn't be harmed.

'-b,' the captain spoke the second letter of its name just as it arrived, then raised an eyebrow, before grinning slowly. 'Impatient, are we? How did you know what I intended? I was about to tell you to come belowdecks, because-'

'Apologies, captain,' the giant said. 'But that would have been far too slow. I...allowed myself the liberty to guess.'

'Hey,' Three floated up to the grey being, raising a hand, palm out. 'Pretty good guess there.'

Ib lightly slapped one of its huge, broad palms against Three's incorporeal one...and the ghost's ectoplasm rippled like someone had thrown a rock into a still lake.

Huh. I hadn't known Ib could interact with intangibles...but I supposed I shouldn't have been surprised. The giant was our first line of defence, and there was always a possibility of an angry ghost or elemental attacking the steamer.

'Thank you. But, why am I here?'

Before any of us could answer, the air shifted, both in and around the ship.

The steamer was not overly large-several dozen metres long and wide, it was small for a voyage ship, but it served its purpose, and was much tougher than its flamboyant appearance suggested. Even so, it got tossed around like a leaf in a storm by the shift in air pressure caused by the arrival of the leviathans outside.

We quickly made our way to the deck, but it was so dark we might as well have been underwater.

Which stood to reason. Each blue and silver ship of the Free Fleet was so wide that, if you stood midway on its hull, you'd see nothing but sleek, shining metal up to the horizon, on either side. They seemed as long as mountain ranges, and far more formidable. I could only catch glimpses of them...though that might have had to do less with their sheer, formidable size, and more with their nature.

'...I remember this,' Ib said, eyeless face raised to the titanic ships, arms slack at its sides.