Of Plots and Mischief

Chapter 1: The Incident at the Port

Trade had virtually come to a pause between Livijov and the surrounding kingdoms since the start of the quarantine. It had started, seemingly innocuous at first, a mild cough that a sailor procured towards the end of his journey, shortly before he arrived at one of the region's more prominent ports. It had not taken long before the port had to be locked down to prevent the spread of the unknown illness that had been revealed to be fatal. Its deceptively mild onset had led many to scoff at the early warnings, taking it to be like one of the common seasonal flus. The few who were not to be deceived, showed foresight as they sent out early warnings, though they were only met by ridicule. But these things care little for popular opinion, and it was not long before the epidemic encroached most of the kingdom, spreading silence in place of the former mockery. And it was a sad silence, filled with sorrow and illness, as whole towns lost their voices and had it upon them to bury their dead in masses.

Phyllon sighed as he took in the atypically subdued air, letting his glance rove over the port, spreading his Gift to take in the mood. In some ways, it was the neighbouring kingdoms that suffered more, as ports closed and sorrow and hunger became a common sight. They were little prepared for it, he reflected, with the unhealthy dominance of Livijov in the region's trade finally revealing its flaws. There was little that could be done now, as merchants scrambled to reopen trade, leaving ship owners and sailors at a loss as they waited for new opportunities to find their way for what they lost. Truth be told, that was an unfair judgement, he conceded, as it was with no fault of their own that so many had lost their lives and livelihoods.

Still, it could have come at a better time for him, as he waited for his father's captain to secure the commission for his first solo voyage in charge of his father's ship. They had to cancel several contracts as ports were closed all along the Vysalyn, and now had to scramble for one if they wished to leave this season. It was partly the reason why he had decided to help his father using his Gift and connections to find a potential contract this late in the season. He was lucky, having heard of the contract at the last minute, only just managing to secure it before any other trader put the bid in. Now, it was out of his hands, the Captain negotiating the last terms of the contract while Phyllon decided to take in the atmosphere at the port.

In truth, it had been little over three years that he had come there, but he had frequented the ports in his childhood as he accompanied his father as he went about his work. He had not been there since the time he spent with his maternal grandfather in the capital, and things had changed in the time between his visits. Physically, there was little change, having had little development in the port since his last visit. The same offices, the same shops, but there were signs of the economic downturn everywhere if you paid attention. The windows boarded, the ships berthed, and jobless sailors begging for a job on the few vessels that still had plans to voyage. The normally busy markets were bare, with little to show for the halted trade. Parinov had only been a minor port, a stop where ships offloaded minor cargo in transit to southern Harqor. Still, it had been among the largest in the region and it had clearly been affected by the halt in trade.

Phyllon let his Gift spread out, feeling the fear and discontent in the air. Not surprising, given the desperate and anxious population. His grandfather, the Sahora Garnvir had taught him how to control it when he spent time with him during his breaks from college, which helped him get better at using it to get the lay of the land without getting overwhelmed by the mess of emotions.
Phyllon frowned as he felt a sharp tinge as the mood changed to anger and violence. Almost like something was escalating the already present negative emotions, making it boil over. He suppressed a shiver as he remembered his grandfather's warning of the current political turmoil and wondered if this was a sign of the secessionist movement that was rumoured to have been gaining fervour in the South.