Ascension to Paradise

Map of Coratão, fashioned by the royal cartographer as a last-minute gift to the newly ascended king of 1187, following the sudden death of his father. A yet unattempted, fully-rendered depiction of the entirety of Coratão and its northeastern neighbor. The great "river" splitting most of the kingdom is, in truth, a mountainous aqueduct originating from the port capital in the north. It delivers free, purified water to the inhabitants, gathering in the artificial "basins" to the central east and west. The technology once used to create it is gone.

Taní groaned as the earth gnawed into him. He tried getting comfortable again, but the rocks were unrelenting. Their savage jabs dispelling a dream sweeter than nightsip from his tired mind.

God…why couldn’t Danza have picked a softer hill…

That was the one thing he hated about sleeping in the countryside: there were always one too many rocks hidden in every nook and cranny. It was like an endurance test. He didn’t enjoy lodging in a Monastery, but at least there they had proper beds.

It almost made up for the volatile harassment! Almost.

As tempted as Taní was to pry his eyes open, sleep was still heavy on his mind, and he dared not capitulate to the waking world. Just a few more hours of rest and he’d be ready for the day. Maybe he could sleep through the discomfort like he usually did. Not that he enjoyed the stiff ache when he awoke.

He imagined that’s what it felt like being as old as Danza, except the man was still as sprite as a child.

Perhaps all that rough-sleeping paid off somehow. That, or it was Sedd’s doing.

The blaring cry of a seagull drilled into Taní’s ear as the distant lapping of the tide increased in volume. He reached for his bedroll’s cover, but when he couldn’t find it, he inched down the bag instead. There was, however, only open air beneath him. Had he crawled out again?

Taní bared through the chill, knowing that if he pushed through the discomfort, he would catch another hour of heavenly rest. A worthwhile sacrifice.

“Taní,” came Danza’s refreshing voice.

Taní grumbled and turned over in his bag. It was a bit awkward as the stiff hill fought against him.

“Get up, we’re almost there.”

“More sleep, wake later…” Taní mumbled.

“I don’t think there’ll be a later if you fall off Blondie.”

Taní—against his better judgment—pried open his eyes. Where he had once been expecting to find the sky, he now only saw a moving cobblestone road. Blondie’s hooves made their distinctive clopping as she carried him. He yelped, scrambling up the horse's side in a panic until he righted himself, his heart hammering in his ears.

“W-What? When did I—” Taní almost slipped as they hit a depression in the road. “Wait, did you—”

Danza urged his steed ahead with a light tap of his boots. “Don’t wanna be late.”

“Late? Late for what? Master? Master!”

Danza was already at a canter, leaving Taní in the dust as Blondie kept a steady pace.

Taní—after further adjusting himself in his seat—lightly tapped his boots against Blondie’s sides. The steed didn’t immediately react, though. She slowly turned to face him, her large, brown eyes shooting him an annoyed look.

“What? Don’t give me that! Go!” Taní ordered with all the authority he could muster. When the horse would not respond, he deepened his voice, hoping that he sounded scary enough to some thousand-pound beast.

As was to be expected, Blondie came to an abrupt stop.

“Please don’t give me attitude right now.”

The horse snorted.

“The sooner you get moving, the quicker I’ll get off. Sounds good, right?”

Blondie snorted once more, and with a turn of her stubborn head, burst into a gallop. The world came to a grounding tilt, the heavens replaced by the unforgiving dirt road. Heart rocketing to his throat, Taní’s hands scrambled for the reigns, the straps catching upon his wrists with the unforgiving, blood-constrictive pressure of hope. Snapping taut, he pulled himself along the reigns with a grunt, cursing and praying some bandit might come along and turn her into a steak.

They gained on Danza in less than a minute, and as Taní drew himself into a furious, hunched sit, he glimpsed a massive outline in the morning fog. It sat on the ocean, perhaps a good ten miles from the beach.

A large island? One with a tented-layered structure, much like the sky castle in Histell.

So intricate, almost divine. A style of building that belonged in another age.

A well-sized port sat at the foot of the island, hosting several large vessels. Some he recognized as royal caravels; others were standard merchant ships one could spot at any harbor. Peering as best he could, he spotted several large buildings on the island. A colony?

Though the current was rougher along the southern coast, the shape of the island—as well as the object in question—shielded the port from harm. Or rather, it would have if the sea didn’t calm as it approached the island.

“Fancy, eh?” Danza remarked.

“Yeah. What is it?”

“Your new adventure.”

Taní faced his master. “We’re going to explore it? Looks populated though.”

“I guess you can explore it, but that’s not what I had in mind,” Danza said.

“We gonna kick out bandits?”

“Nah, small work isn’t my thing this close to the sea. I like to relax.”

Taní cocked a brow. “Then why’re we here?”

“I thought you could use a change of pace. What better way to do that than to toss you into school,” Danza explained.

“I’m going to do what and go where now?”

“Exactly.” Danza wagged a finger. “It’s what every squire ever dreams of. A place of learning with rivals to make, and friends to meet.”

Taní stared at the man incredulously. “It’s school. No one wants to go to school!”

“You’ve never even attended a school of learning. How would you know that?”

“Because all they do is teach you how to read, write, and do math! Hear that? Math.” Taní shook his head. “Yeah, I can’t wait to be on the battlefield when some enemy soldier rolls up with an equation for me to solve. Just teach me how to ride a horse, and use a sword and I’ll be alright.”

“Sedd goes a long way,” Danza added with a smirk.

Taní shot him a flat stare. “Yes, and Sedd. The point is, we can’t just stop for me to learn. That’ll waste time! And do you know what I’d be doing instead of learning how to use Sedd? Reading some dusty old tome that only a loser cares about.”

“That’s why you’re not going to any ordinary school.”

“And another thing—” Taní paused. “What? Then where am I going?”

“Where else?” Danza glanced at the sea. “Hierrsé Academy.”

Taní stared at him. Hierrsé Academy. The Hierrsé Academy. An institute designed by the greatest Juneacão to grace Valeço. Rumors abounded they hosted the finest instructors vines could afford! Forget swordsmanship and horseback riding. Those were trivial when compared to the might of one’s blood.

And just knowing he would learn from them all left him on the edge of his seat, his thumbs running over the reins absentmindedly.

Sedd, Sedd, and more Sedd! They might even know more than Danza!

The cry of a seagull shook Taní from his stupor. He watched as the bird flew northward towards a small port town. Several caravels docked at the nearby port town, their sails displaying the royal heraldry of Coratão: A great blue blade thrust into an ornate sunrise Tower. Or more specifically, Voen’s Towerblade thrust into Alé Daçt de Uralesom. The Tower of Sky and Earth.

Taní didn’t know why people referred to the Tower at Godsfield as such, but Danza thought it was poetic. Then again, he spent much of his free time devouring poetry.

Wait. He realized. If those ships were here, then that only means…

“Please don’t tell me they’re here, too,” Taní said, with-holding his disgust.

Danza gave a slight inclination of his head. “Who?”

“You know…them.” He gestured to the sails with unreserved apprehension.

“You mean the Order of Ilaçel?”

Taní stiffened. After a moment of silence, he glanced all around. God, he didn’t want to risk acknowledging them. One of their lot might just sense his call and come scrambling towards them. Prepared to shovel a novels-worth of codes down their throats.

Taní didn’t want to be subjected to that. Never again…

“Something wrong, Taní?” Danza’s voice pierced the thin veil of thoughts. “If it’s about the Jury, you can relax. They aren’t a bothersome folk.”

That was true enough. They were perhaps the only fellowship that treated them fairly. Housing them under terrible weather, feeding them upon request—good blood, they’d even let them use their bath houses. Taní’s only gripe was their squires. He preferred the awkward silence of other Grazers compared to their blathering.

“I just…” Taní anxiously leaned closer to Blondie’s head. “I really don’t wanna talk to them.”

Danza reached to the side and plucked a wide-brimmed hat before placing it on his head. “Then just keep your head down.”

“Thanks, Master.”

As they neared the port, a stray thought crossed Taní’s mind.

“Master, did you just throw me on Blondie while I was asleep?”

Unaffected, Danza answered, “Yeah, why?”

Taní groaned. “You can’t just keep doing that whenever we have to travel.”

“If I didn’t, we’d never get anywhere. Do you even know how much you sleep in? I could build a fort in the time you’re out.”

“Apparently…”

“Don’t worry, I strapped you in well enough. We’ve probably been riding for…three hours now?” Danza estimated. “Didn’t want you being late for your meeting with the Deputy Headmaster.”

Taní frowned. “Why would I be meeting them?”

The Juneacão’s steed slowed to a walk, and so did Blondie. “Call it a deal. From what he’s told me, they rarely let squires register this late. Classes already started two weeks ago, but the Deputy Headmaster…” Danza chewed on something. “I guess he was really interested in seeing you. Made an exception.”

That was a tough reed to snap. Taní was just some faceless peasant from the outskirts of Histell. Who’d want to meet him? Maybe the guy stupid enough to let some nameless join in the first place.

The port town was bustling as they passed through. There wasn’t a large variety of vendors, though the glass shopkeepers cried out to Danza once they spotted his shawl. Good blood, that never got any less annoying.

Juneacão were their greatest customers, though it wasn’t like the common folk were any less interested. Chalk phials—the same variety of phials Juneacão employed to store their blood—were crafted out of sheerstone. Any liquid contained within would not only have its essence preserved, but enriched over the years. They were durable enough to survive a stampede, and could be regularly reused. If they were well-maintained.

Danza maneuvered them away from their dogged pursuers, losing them in the surging crowd. The horde of farmers and shoppers thinned as they neared the docks, until suddenly, there were only children being escorted onto a heavily guarded ship.

Judging by their height, they appeared to be around his age. As for those guiding them, they also sported a Juneacão’s shawl. Were those children their squires?

Arriving, Danza dismounted. Taní followed suit, but instead of making a clean, stylish landing, he jerked midair and slammed against Blondie’s side.

Air evacuated his lungs as a flaring spike of agony consumed his torso. He dangled there with a limp sway, the knots shackling his calves and making them throb with a leg-squeezing numbness. Moonrays…

A round of laughter pierced the swelling tide of blood rushing in his ears. Tired, and somewhat annoyed, he watched the children pass.

“What? You need a stool to dismount, too? Your wittle guawd stwaps aren’t enough? I bet you can’t even drink water without spilling it,” an apricot-rosy-eyed boy jeered.

Their guide said nothing, though judging by his trembling smirk, he did his best not to chuckle.

A gray-blue-eyed girl eyed him, did her best not to laugh, then laughed her heart out for the world to hear. Her short bursts of pants clawing at his ears as she reeled forward.

“Aww, does the little fry want to hang with the rest of the fish? What? Did you get lost, or are you that stupid?”

“Enough, Maudaleur,” a woman—her master, if Taní had to assume—instructed, “you need to pick a proper cabin before the others beat you to it, and what have I taught you?”

Maudaleur unleashed her residual mirth in a vexing giggle. “Losing isn’t an option.”

They went off without another word, and though Taní wanted nothing more than to return her “kindness,” the heat flooding his face dispelled all witticisms.

At the end of their mocking procession came a blonde boy. One without the company of a master, and yet he stood proud all the same. His eyes were the distinctive color of royalty, but unlike the Coratão, who possessed lavender-sapphire eyes, his were a lavender-yellow.

He came to a steady stop, his thin lips a fine line as he brought a thoughtful hand to his chin. With the unnerving silence of a hawk, he dissected every bit of the failure Taní must’ve seemed. Good blood, how was his silence worse than their jeering?

Suddenly, the boy’s eyes narrowed as his curiosity evaporated into irritation. He left with naught but a scoff, frowning as if the brief pause had somehow slighted him!

Danza undid the last of the knots imprisoning Taní, releasing Taní from their oppressive hold. The old Juneacão caught him before he could crash into the hard stone, and once Taní was settled, they got to unpacking. Taní wasn’t sure what he’d need, so he brought along the bare essentials: a knapsack, a change of clothes, several snacks, the shiny pebble he had found under a pile of rubble in Godsfield, and the training sword Danza had gifted him the other year.

Apparently, accessing Sedd was the only way to lift Danza’s blade probation. Not that he even explained why he enforced it in the first place. It wasn’t even a tradition! Not Riverlanner, Firstholder, Crownlanner or even that creepy Evergreen forest. Other squires didn’t have to suffer this setback. Stupid sticks didn’t win fights.

He did find it oddly sturdy, nonetheless, and on the rare occasion it clashed with metal, it didn’t so much as splinter. In fact, Taní rarely had to tend to it. The sword remained whole regardless of abuse. And he knew just how durable it was with all his attempts to break it for a real one.

“Oh? You’re taking your lucky sword, too?” Danza asked with a smile.

“Stop calling it that.” Taní slid the wooden sword through the makeshift scabbard on his belt—a simple leather loop. “Besides, maybe I’ll need it. Beasts skulking around and everything.”

“Don’t think there’s a more secure place in all of Valeço than Hierrsé.” Danza paused. “It’s deep. Even the scales can’t touch it. Just make sure the shadows never see you.”

“Whatever.”

Taní finished fetching his equipment, extracted the shiny pebble from one of Blondie’s saddles and thrust it into his pocket. Then, once he triple-checked the tightness of the loop, he looked to his master and nodded.

“Let’s go.”

Danza’s lips fell. “Sorry, but this is your journey to make. Not mine.”

Taní laughed, but when the old man failed to return his mirth, his heart stuttered. “Whaddya mean? We always go everywhere together.”

“Not this time, my blood drop.”

Taní waited for him to draw the veil over his poorly timed joke, but when Danza continued to look at him with that unwavering, heart-wrenching grin. An oppressive tightness blossomed in his chest. One colder than all the morning air that invaded his lungs. “B-But you’re my master. You can’t just leave. You’re supposed to teach me until I earn my shawl. That’s not even for another eight years!”

“Might be more, might be less,” Danza said, trying to sound optimistic.

“Yeah, and you’re supposed to be there to guide me. That’s the point of being a master! You know? Teach someone like you actually care. Not just pick whoever you want and then toss them away when you get bored,” Taní voice wavered as he failed to quell the swell of emotions.

“I’m not tossing you away, Taní.”

“Then you’re going too?”

Danza shook his head.

Taní glanced at the gangway and watched as Maudaleur parted with her master. She gave a respective bow, then boarded the ship without a moment’s hesitation. Did this goodbye truly mean so little to her?

Just imaginging himself in her place squeezed his throat shut.

“T-Then I’m not going! We’ll just keep adventuring, and then…well, we can—”

“Taní.” Danza knelt before him, his boot scattering the loose grains on the port. “This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. Something entire families give their fortunes for, and even they’re not lucky enough to win. But you? You.” Danza took Taní’s face into his rough, calloused hands. “You have a chance to be more than me. More than whatever your mother planned for you. I don’t want you to be some farmhand that gets by cuz it’s all he can do. You’re lucky. Some people don’t like hearing that, maybe you don’t either, but you’re lucky. You’re the type of person that’ll show everyone there’s always a chance. Even if it never feels like you take off the ground.”

Heat swelled in Taní’s chest. He tried coughing, even breathing to cool it down, but the sorrow remained rooted. And he hated it.

It’d be like then. Leaving home and knowing he’d never be back.

Taní shook the thought free. He didn’t want that; he wanted to go on hundreds of adventures and eat overly lemon'd fish every night! Not suffer the vile sting of moisture burning his eyes.

A nightmare. That’s all this goodbye was. Just a terrible, mis-imagined nightmare.

Besides, him, lucky? Why would anyone think that? A kid who slept the mornings away could never be lucky. He only needed to wait for Danza to wake him up. Then they’d be gone; they’d be wherever they wanted to because going anywhere was better than staying in one place.

Taní ignored the terrible pressure building in his throat, and though he held the man’s gaze, his visage wavered in the blurring tide. He wouldn’t allow them to spill. Not like last time. Maybe if he held them, then they wouldn’t need a goodbye. Maybe he didn’t need to be reminded of his mother.

“B-But…you can train me, too,” Taní croaked, forcing his voice past the lump in his throat. And it hurt just as much as breathing did.

Danza patted him on the shoulder, rough yet gentle. “I taught you everything. I really did. I could try re-teaching you, but that won’t work. You just need a little push, and I know the instructors here’ll give it. Trust me.”

Realizing that a response would push him over the edge, Taní nodded breathlessly. He’d never imagined life without Danza, but to know his apprenticeship would end with a premature goodbye? It hurt; hurt more than every rusty syringe in the world.

“Can—Can I still be your squire?” Taní murmured.

A sad twinkle shone in the Juneacão’s eyes. “You could wish to be someone else’s squire, and I’d still think of you as my one and only student.”

“Will you visit…?”

“If I’m around, but you better learn to read well. Never know when you might get a letter or two. Your mother misses you.”

“Will you see me if I’m anointed?”

Danza squeezed his shoulder. “When you’re anointed, and yes. On all my honor, I’ll be there. You can even join me if you want, afterward. Then, we can travel the land as equals. How’s that sound?”

“T-That sounds good…” Taní squeezed the hem of his tunic. “That sounds good, Master…”

“Now Taní, there’s no reason to cry. No one’s died yet, and if you’ve got hope, they’ll still be here! This isn’t goodbye. Just till next time. Try to have fun, alright? Time’s fickle, and if there’s one thing it hates, it’s dragging on. So make sure you stop long enough to know what you’re running past.”

“I won’t,” Taní rasped, “and if it doesn’t slow down, I’ll swat it.”

“Good. Make sure you don’t break that sword, though. It’s…well. It’s a gift. From a really old friend of mine.”

Taní wiped away some of his tears. “Really…? But why a training sword?”

“Don’t know. The icy fool just said it was important.” Danza reached out and ruffled Taní’s hair. “So take good care of it. She really misses him.”