Ends of Magic

“I warn you, no captain will be eager to take passengers they’re unfamiliar with.” Jaus said as they walked down the main street towards the harbor. Tall houses built of rock the same color as the cliffs rose on both sides, interspersed with occasional squares decorated with fountains.

“Let’s talk to them and find out,” Nathan replied absently. He was busy watching in every direction, paying attention to rooftops and other possible angles of attack. Litcliff was the origin of the assassins who’d attacked them thus far. Having an escort was all well and good, but it wouldn’t help if somebody popped over a rooftop and put a bolt through Khachi’s head.

At least the other pedestrians were keeping their distance. They all took one look at the Heirs being escorted by Jaus in his form-fitting metal armor and gave them a wide berth. Most of the people looked like locals, though there was a scattering of sailors and a few who were dressed like farmers.

Behind Nathan the Heirs were keeping a wary eye out, with Aarl taking up the rear. They were using a formation they’d practiced long ago for patrolling Old Gemore. Litcliff was just as likely to house threats as the ruin-infested city was.

We just need to hire a ship, get out of the city. We’ve got a veritable mountain of magical crafting materials and enchanted items to pay with. Looting Giantsrest was profitable.

Jaus looked back at them and chuckled. “You’re acting like a hunted herd of Nindine.” He spread his arms wide. “But this is Litcliff! Gemore might be full of Adventurers craving battle, but here the Oligarchs mandate peace. Fighting is bad for business.” He waggled his finger back and forth reprovingly. “Do not stir these depths, unless you desire a swift death.” His fingers dropped to the handle of the strange club at his side as his face twisted into a grin. The expression didn’t even come close to reaching his eyes.

Nathan rolled his eyes. He’d been threatened by better. “Keep your pants on. We’re not going to start anything.” He rolled his head around, popping his neck. “But if somebody else starts something, we’ll finish it.” Nathan kept his eyes on Jaus as he spoke, making it clear that he was including the Litcliff elite in his category.

The man’s grin twisted into a derisive smirk and he turned back down the road, setting off at a slightly faster pace. The Heirs didn’t speed up and a moment later their escort moderated his own pace to avoid outdistancing them.

All power games and bluffs with this guy. I’d think he was trying to get close to us to attack us but he’s being enough of a jerk that that doesn’t seem likely.

They reached the final stretch of road that led down to the harbor, and Nathan looked out across the docklands of Litcliff. They were clearly the focus of the town, with warehouses and shipyards crammed onto the flat ground in front of the long piers stretching out into the water. Nearly a dozen ships were spaced around the dock, though only four of them looked large enough to make transoceanic journeys. One of those was the rakish three-masted ship that had just arrived.

I’m a bit suspicious of a ship that just got here. If Badud’s put a Questor-sized bounty on our heads I wouldn’t be surprised if a crew diverted to Litcliff to take a shot at us.

The day was wearing on and the fishing boats were starting to come in, ready to unload cargos of fish and other aquatic life into waiting carts. In the far distance Nathan could see where the enormous waves of the open ocean calmed down to the mirror-smoothness of the water around Litcliff.

Magic calming the water. If I had to bet, there’s probably a dungeon-sourced artifact inside the palace that’s calming the water. Maybe it was a dungeon at some point.

Jaus looked back at him and raised a questioning eyebrow, sweeping his hand to indicate the docks.

Nathan pointed to the closest of the four large ships - which was also the one farthest away from the new ship. This one looked solidly used but reliable, with a boxy design around two sturdy masts bearing oft-repaired rigging. The Heirs negotiated the docks to reach the ship, Jaus falling into step beside Nathan as he approached the gangplank. He stopped at the base of it, looking up at the absolute bear of a man who was blocking the way.

Those are some nice muscles.

The hirsute man didn’t say anything as Nathan approached. He just watched and waited, his hands inching towards the curved blades strapped across his chest.

If the oligarchs mandate peace, why does everybody seem so ready for a fight?

“We're looking to hire a ship to go across the ocean,” Nathan said pleasantly, meeting the man’s eyes and giving him a respectful nod.

His reply was a grunt followed by an outstretched hand telling them to stop. Then the man turned and walked back aboard the ship, the planks creaking under his weight.

They waited on the dock for a minute. Jaus started tapping his foot impatiently while the Heirs kept a careful watch in every direction. It felt a little ridiculous to be this paranoid in the middle of a busy city, but Nathan joined them. He kept at least some of his attention on their escort as well.

After all, it’s not paranoia if they really are out to get you. Jaus has to know about the bounty. But I’m pretty sure I can just brick his armor with my antimagic if he does anything aggressive. My new class is even faster at destroying enchantments than my old one.

It only took another minute before the ship’s guardian returned, this time accompanied by a petite woman wearing an enchanted breastplate and an absolutely expressionless face. She looked down on the Heirs from the top of the ship, then spoke in a clipped voice. “You had a wish to travel?”

Nathan cleared his throat. “We want to book passage across the ocean on your ship. We can pay handsomely.”

Her eyes flicked over the Heirs, gauging their gear for a moment before coming back to rest on Nathan. Her face gave no clue as to her thoughts, but after a moment she spoke again. “Where to?”

Grimacing and glancing at Jaus, Nathan replied. “Keihona. Do you know where that is?”

The woman snorted. “Aye. It’s a kraken’s journey.” Her eyes flicked to Jaus, who was yawning at that moment. “But not worth the risk to me and mine. Algoa’s luck to ye, but this ship won’t take you.” She turned and walked out of sight, being immediately replaced by the enormous sailor. The man glowered down at the Heirs and wordlessly told them to get out of his sight.

Jaus chuckled. “I spoke a prophecy of truth earlier. You’ll need to wait for a ship on the right tide. Might take a few weeks.”

Nathan was already walking towards the next option. It was the smallest of the ocean-going ships, with a lower deck and only a single mast. But the wood that made it up was dark and heavy, and the bottom was clad in a shell of hammered copper or similar metal.

There were two men and a woman playing some kind of card game on deck, and they all looked up with sharp eyes as Nathan approached. All three were heavily scarred, and one of the men was missing an arm and the other had an eyepatch over one eye. The man with the patch spoke up in a rough voice. “What’s you want? Why’s there a beastie with you?”

Nathan repeated his request, ignoring the slur directed at Khachi. “Looking for passage for five. Off-continent.”

The man turned back to the other two, flashing a few one-handed signs. The other man shrugged and responded in kind, and the woman nodded her agreement, taking a draw on a pipe clenched between her teeth. The one-eyed man faced Nathan again. “What’s on offer?”

“Goods, enchanted items. Enough to make it worth the trip.” Nathan said, gesturing backwards. Behind him Aarl pulled out an ingot of gold-blue metal, and out of the corner of his eye Nathan saw Jaus eyeing the mithril bar consideringly.

Khachi spoke up in a low growl. “Healing for the arm and the eye, as well as anything else.”

The man’s eyebrow rose, and he darted a look to his companion’s missing arm. “Aye? And what’s the target?”

“Keihonia.”

The word soured the mood instantly. The woman reached up and took the pipe out of her mouth, then spat on the deck and spoke in a wheezing voice. “Heard o’ it, but can’t navigate there. What’s your need? Other ports closer. Could take ya to Esebus. Sangrad.”

I don’t think we want to go to other places with unknown dynamics. Might be we pick the stronghold of one of Badud’s friends.

Nathan shook his head. “Keihonia or nothing. If we found a map could you take us there?”

The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

The three exchanged a few more quick hand-signs before the one-eyed man replied, “Mayhap. Depends on the price. The tales tell it to be an unfriendly town. Full of taxmen. And judges.” He spat the words like curses. “Do you have a chart?” He spoke casually, but Nathan thought he could detect a thread of greed underneath the man’s words.

“Not now. We might come back later with one. Are you staying in Litcliff long?”

The man shrugged again. “Mayhap some days.” He offered no further response, merely staring at Nathan with his one good eye.

I swear, these people go out of their way to make conversations awkward.

With that apparent dismissal, Nathan turned and walked towards the third ship. This one was the largest of all, and docked the farthest from shore. It was a fat-bellied galleon that stood high above the deck, looking more like a floating wooden castle than a ship. A constant stream of people carried away a stack of goods resting on the pier nearby.

A pair of men with dark brown skin and red-green suits cut something like a tuxedo stood before a set of stairs resting on the dock. Their appearance was polished and slick, with long mustaches curled into a spiral and polished swords at their waists. One of the men bowed to Nathan, oiled mustache dipping slightly with the motion. He straightened up and spoke in a smooth and cultured tone. “I welcome you all to the ship of Davion as esteemed guests.” The deliberate emphasis on the last two words clearly carried some significance.

Then the man turned and led the way up the stairs, opening the door at the top and gesturing Nathan through. On the other side was the open deck of the ship, with high wooden walls all around. But what grabbed Nathan’s attention was the flash of steel in the sunlight. A dozen more men stood arranged on either side of a green carpet laid on the deck, thin swords out and held overhead in a salute.

Nathan’s steps stuttered as he beheld the display, and his paranoia surged. Then he mastered the sudden fear. If this was a trap, it was one he would spring and survive. But it looked more like a ceremonial greeting. He stepped forward once more, magical senses scanning their armament

Force and weight enchantments. I bet those swords are wickedly fast and cut like a scalpel. They’ve also got an enchantment woven underneath those suits that’ll deflect elemental magic and a couple of blows. The enchantments are impressively standardized.

Their guide spoke again. “Please, Davion awaits.” He gestured towards the end of the carpet to where a small table covered with an embroidered red tablecloth had been set with a delicate tea service. There were only two chairs, and one of them was occupied by a tall brown-skinned man with broad shoulders and a heavy belly. He was dressed in another red-and-green suit that dripped with enough golden jewelry that he looked like a christmas tree come to life.

Nathan took the single proffered seat, settling down opposite the large man - presumably Davion. The Heirs stood in a cluster behind him while Jaus walked a little ways to the side, looking bored. Through his magical senses Nathan felt the swordsmen fan out behind them in a semicircle. He heard the faint clanking as Khachi tensed in his armor.

Across from him, Davion reached forwards and poured a steaming dark liquid from a tall teapot into two tiny ceramic mugs sitting on an oval-shaped platter, then swept his hands above them as if to tell Nathan to take his pick. He waited for Nathan’s move, eyes curious.

Nathan reached forward and delicately picked up one of the enameled cups, holding the fragile handle between his thumb and pointer finger. He sipped delicately, tasting a subtle flavor that reminded him of green tea mixed with a hint of chocolate. He nodded appreciatively to the man and placed the cup in the precise center of the saucer waiting in front of him.

No poison.

The large man smiled, then picked up the remaining mug in a nearly identical grip and sipped at it before placing it down on the table. He spoke, his voice rich and deep. “I am Davion, and you are welcome aboard my ship. Tell me, do you know of the ways of Sago?

Nathan returned the smile, speaking politely. “No, but I have seen similar customs before.” He gestured around at the massive boat. “You have a lovely ship. Truly, beyond anything else in this harbor.”

Davion bowed his head slightly in acknowledgement of the complement. “I thank you for the compliment. The Pride of Davion has carried me across a dozen oceans of Davrar, and will carry me farther still.” His lips quirked. “But it is not the finest ship in the harbor. The Grace of the Mist has just arrived, and that is a ship of the finest grade.”

“Oh? Do you know her?” Nathan asked, then winced slightly. Davion had referred to his ship as an it, not a she, so he was unlikely to understand Nathan’s question.

“Her? Do you mean the captain of the Grace of the Mist?” Davion replied with a questioning tone. “Not to the knowledge of trade, no. Eolinne is a captain that all learn of, if they survive the seas for long enough. But few trade with her, for her business is not trade.”

Then the brown-skinned man picked up his tea and drained it, fixing Nathan with a sharp gaze as he placed the cup back onto the table with a clink. “Now, onto business.”

Nathan finished his own cup of tea. “Business. We wish to book passage to Keihonia. We offer payment in crafting materials and enchanted items. Enough to be a rich payment for such a trip.”

Davion’s face was impassive as he looked up, his gaze scanning over the buildings built into the cliffs all around before flicking over Jaus. “Still waters with deep dangers.” He said it like a quote, then refocused on Nathan. “I must apologize for my poor negotiation, but neither of us will profit if you remain longer than necessary. You will not find passage aboard my ship.” The big man let out a heavy. “Feel no shame for this. You are involved in the games of Questors, and I am awed by your courage. But I do not deal with Questors, for though the rewards are great, the risks likewise. One grand sale makes a fortune, but life is still more valuable.”

Nathan studied Davion for a second, looking into his eyes. The man seemed completely certain. “Could you provide a chart to get there, so we can hire another ship?”

Davion shook his head apologetically. “Such a thing is more valuable than the trip itself, and involves me nonetheless. If you acquire such a map, it should serve as payment for the journey by itself.” He stood and bowed slightly, gesturing for his guards to escort the Heirs off the ship.

Nathan stood and bowed in return.

Davion’s lips didn’t move, but his words still came to Nathan, carried in a low whisper that seemed targeted at him alone. “I offer a weight of wisdom in return for your manners. Eolinne is a piece in the games of Questors, and she made haste to come here. Do not show Jaus your back, for the oligarchs are surely tempted by the wealth offered for your death.”

Nathan blinked, but showed no outward sign of the message as he followed his friends down the ramp.

Aarl made an annoyed snort and gestured towards the last ship, the sharp clipper that Davion had identified as the Grace of the Mist. “Last chance.”

I'm getting a bad feeling.

Status of Nathan Lark:

Permanent Talent 1: Arcane Nullfield 7

Permanent Talent 2: Immortal Body 5

Permanent Talent 3: Airwalking 7

Class: End of Magic level 731

Bottomless Stamina : 74082/74100

Indomitable

The Undeniable Strike of the Antimage

Stamina Burn

Momentum Mastery

Stoneflesh

Arcane Nullification

Galefoot

Close Quarters Mastery

Boundless Aura

Denial of Mysticism

The Ending of Magic

Aura Projection

Selective Dispel

The Living World

Class: Spellslayer level 504

Regenerative Focus: 5140/5140

Catastrophic Blows

Battle Stealth

Mage Infiltration

Forgettable

Sneaky Blow

Antimagic Stealth

Magical Manipulation

Lethal Index

Wizard Resistance

Magic Jammer

Controlled Failure

Utility skills:

Tranquility 1

Inspiration 8

Acceleration 10

Mystical Discernment 1

Alertness 10

Arcane Insight 2

Effortless Dodge 10

Mental Vault 5

Tutoring 7

Parkour 8

Visibility Control 4

High-tier Disguise 5

High-tier Battle Cry 2

Aura Control 3