Chapter 18: Chapter 17: The First Night (I)

-----The Wayfarer-----

Cai’s wild ride clutching the rope tied to Ju-Won and skirting across the water with the wooden planks on his feet lasted about fifteen minutes, but it felt considerably longer. By the time they reached the shore of the island, his arms were burning and his legs felt like they too were made of wood.

As soon as they stepped foot on the island, Cai collapsed onto his back on the sandy shore. “Well, that was – that was an experience. How did you know that would work?”

“Hm? Oh, it is something we do quite frequently back home. Not with such makeshift skis, though. Quite a bit of our early Wayfarer training involves games played atop the water, and taking the children out to ski across the water was always one of my favorites. There is a bit of a learning curve to it, usually I would go much slower for a child who is trying it for the first time. But I figured you’re a grown Wayfarer yourself and could probably handle it. And you did well for a first attempt!”

Cai groaned as he forced himself to sit up and began to detach the makeshift skis from his boots. “I guess I could see how that might have been fun in a different situation. Makes me a little jealous, actually. None of my training involves games. Unless you count helping angry old men move their food stalls uphill a game.”

“I’ve heard the Wayfarer of Flame’s master is quite strict. I’d like to meet him one day.”

“Oh? Well, then I’ll trade you. You can do Master Shui’s chores for a day, and I can go play games with the Wayfarers of Water.

Ju-Won laughed. “You have a deal.”

Cai got back to his feet and looked inland. Much like he had guessed when viewing the island from before, it was quite green. There was an extensive, sandy shoreline, but beyond that, it turned quickly into a dense forest. He could barely see a few yards past the tree line before the vegetation started to obstruct his vision. Looming over all of it was the mountain, which seemed even more imposing from this close up.

“I suppose we should explore a little,” Cai suggested.

“I’m not so sure.” Ju-Won studied the forest with a serious expression. “I can sense … I’m not really sure. Danger, perhaps. More specifically, I have a feeling that the sea isn’t the only place where the tournament’s organizers left dangerous creatures for us to encounter.”

The tranquil forest in front of them suddenly seemed like a death trap to Cai. “Oh. That’s – uh – frightening.”

Ju-Won nodded. “I believe we should remain around the shore until morning, when we will hopefully receive details on the next round. We have an advantage, having forged our own way across instead of relying on one of the boats. No one else will be landing on shore. Any further fighting happening among the competitors tonight will likely be centered around the docks.”

“Yeah. Alright, that makes sense. I guess even if someone else tried to land here, we’d have a good view of them coming.”

Ju-Won took a cross-legged seat on the sand. “Now, we should try to get whatever rest we can. I’ll take a watch and let you get some sleep, then wake you when it is my turn.”

“You want us to sleep here? You should said there are murder-death-monsters in that forest. What if one of them attacks us?”

“That’s why one of us will keep watch. It is important for us to rest. I have a feeling that the competition will not let up to give us a break in the morning, and exhaustion could prove to be the deadliest foe.”

Cai doubted he’d be able to get any sleep at all, but Ju-Won had a point, so he should at least try. He found a comfortable, dry spot on the sand, rolled his robe up under him like a pillow, and laid down.

As he feared, sleep was not coming easily. And it wasn’t for lack of comfort – Cai was used to sneaking naps in all kinds of places, often with hard floor and heat flowing in from the forges. Nor was it really the danger – he trusted Ju-Won with his life and was confident that he would watch over him.

No, it was something heavier weighing at his mind.

“Ju-Won?”

“Yes, Cai?”

“That guy you fought with the sword. His name was Tenner.”

Ju-Won didn’t respond, but Cai could feel his eyes on him.

“I … after you went to get wood from the pier, I was attacked by him again. I beat him and … I let him fall into the sea. One of those monsters grabbed him and took him under. I killed him.”

Silence lingered in the air before Ju-Won responded. “That was your first time taking a life, I take it?”

“You’ve killed people before?” Cai asked.

“Being a Wayfarer isn’t all about playing games on the water. We are the protectors of our home. When a threat arises, you need to be able to respond to it with appropriate force. My home has faced several struggles in my short time as Wayfarer. And I have done my duty each time.”

Cai was surprised to hear this. His home had always been so peaceful. He knew the Wayfarers protected the village, but the threats they faced were minor. The occasional wandering beast, or drunken foreigner causing a scene. He didn’t think he’d heard of any of the Wayfarers needing to use lethal force in all the time he had been training.

“I just wonder if I should have stopped him from falling,” Cai said. “I tried to help the archer I fought when I nearly knocked him off the tower, and he responded by throwing me off. And because of that, I let Tenner die. Maybe he would have continued to be a threat if I saved him, but I don’t know. How do you know what ‘appropriate force’ is?”

“I can’t answer that for you, and the morals instilled in you by your people,” Ju-Won replied. I can only tell you this about the Way of the Water: The core of our way is about the redirection of force. Just as how big the stone you throw into the water determines how big the ripples you create are, how much force you bring to bear against us determines how much we return. If you seek to do no harm, then no harm is done in return. If you intend to maim, then we will return those injuries. And if you seek to kill, then in return we will take your life. By always responding to our aggressors with their own force, we know the response to be measured.”

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Cai thought about this for a while. “So, are you saying that since Tenner tried to kill me, I was right to kill him?”

“By the philosophy of the Way of Water, I would say you were. But I cannot speak to the Way of Fire. Has your master not given you direction in this matter?”

“I’m sure he has, but his lessons can be pretty cryptic. I know ‘there is many a good cause to light a fire, but to ignite them recklessly is to risk burning down your home,’ means don’t go around starting unnecessary fights. But I don’t know which of them are specifically about when it is okay to kill.”

It was Ju-Won’s turn to be silent and think. “Then let me ask you this, Cai. Did your master know that you were entering this tournament?”

“He found out, yeah. Wasn’t particularly happy about it, but he did let me go.”

“Then he must have expected you ready to take a life. The Tournament Lyris is a deadly game. No one has ever won it with clean hands. The moment you have stepped through those gates, you have accepted that others will try to take your life, and you need be ready to take their lives in return. If you hesitate, or show undue mercy, it will only end in your own demise. Tell me – the man you came here to hunt. Do you intend to take his life?”

“I … I haven’t really thought about it,” Cai admitted. “I knew I wanted to get revenge. I guess I never stopped to consider what that meant.”

“You will need to find your answer soon. Because I doubt your opponent will show the same hesitation.”

Ju-Won was right. Cai still felt guilty, and maybe that was a guilt he would carry with him for the rest of his life. But if he was going to survive this tournament, and avenge his father, he would need to be ready to take lives.

The flames consumes so that it may burn, its heat does not come free, to build the mightiest of blazes, something worth it must be lost. That was the lesson that Master Shui had given him as he left home, the secret behind the way of the consuming way. Cai still wasn’t sure what it meant.

But somehow, he felt that he had just come one step closer to unravelling it.

-----The Arcanist-----

Massive shapes swirled beneath their raft, far too large to be any natural sea creature. Lotti was both excited by the prospect of seeing a strange new form of life and also terrified of what they could be.

“What do you think those things are?” Lotti asked. “I can’t get a good look at them in the dark.”

“You’re better off not seeing them clearly,” the musician replied. “Those creatures are a challenge laid at our feet by the Tournament Commission. The reason why we were warned not to go for a swim. I’ve heard tales that they are so horrendous looking, that people who lay eyes on them and live have nightmares for the rest of their lives.”

Lotti sat back in the raft, suddenly no longer interested at peering into the water. “So, they’re dangerous?”

“Oh, very. To any living thing that enters their water. They will drag them down to the water’s deepest depths, where they will never be seen again, living nor dead.”

She locked her knees against her chest and curled into a ball. “And we’re going across this sea with only this flimsy raft between us and then?”

Flimsy was the right word for it. Even after using the pump in the box to inflate the raft as much as it would allow, the whole thing still felt paper thin, like it was ready to fall apart and dump them in the water at any moment.

“No reason for concern. If the horrors that lurked below wanted us dead, the boats the others are on would provide no further protection from their wrath than our trustworthy little raft. They could tear us all apart like dollhouse furniture.”

“That’s not as comforting as you seem to think it might be.”

“As I said, the creatures have a hate for any living thing in the water. But they don’t attack the pier or bother the boats. My guess is they can only sense people if they’re physically in the water. But if you are still concerned…” He dropped the raft’s oars and picked up his cittern. “Music can soothe even the most ferocious of beasts. Just take over the oars and I’ll play a melody so soothing that it will quell even their eternal rage.”

Lotti looked at the thin sticks of arms. “No, that’s alright. I think I’d rather risk the attack than have to try and push those oars.”

Emory sighed and dropped the cittern. “Alas, I suppose my efforts to tame the ocean horrors will have to wait for another day.”

He took the oars and they continued their slow, steady rhythm. Lotti continued to sit in her hunched position, but even as terrified as she was, her mind was still working.

“You seem to know a lot about the tournament,” she commented, suspicion clear in her voice.

“I am a teller of tales and singer of songs. To do both, I must know the full story behind them.”

“But where did you hear these stories?” she pressed. “I read just about every book on the tournament’s history I could find, and one thing I noted was the lack of clear details in the recordings of it. All the accounts come from the official observers, and while they go over the broad strokes of the challenges, and the competitors that fought one another, they were very light on the tournament grounds. And I’m certain they never mentioned a sea filled with giant, aggressive creatures.”

“Yes. The Tournament Commission picks their observers carefully, as I learned the hard way,” Emory replied. “I couldn’t promise to have all my records reviewed by the commission, to allow them to censor anything they didn’t want public knowledge, and thus I did not meet the qualifications. Hence my presence as a competitor.”

Lotti noticed how he dodged her question and the implications of what she was saying. It was unlikely she was going to get any straight answers from him about himself or where his knowledge came from. She would have to keep an eye on him for anything else suspicious.

But while he wouldn’t talk about himself, maybe he had the answer to another question that had been bothering her ever since she studied up on the tournament. “Speaking of being a competitor, when I was doing my research, I noted that there were no records from the perspective of the tournament participants. Not the champions, not those that were eliminated by survived. You’d think that would be the topic of a number of books and biographies, or at the very least, articles from publications around the time.”

“The surviving competitors are all encouraged by the commission to keep their accounts to themselves. And though that is not enough to stop all of them, the commission has broad reach. They can keep things from being published and stop articles from being widespread. The records you are referring to do exist, but it does not surprise me that they wouldn’t reach the shelves of the academy. After all, those that run the academy know they need to remain on the good side of the commission.”

He had answered Lotti’s question, but in turn, raised many more. The way he spoke about the Tournament Commission made them sound like some powerful cabal, but as far as she knew, their power extended mostly to the management of the tournament itself. How could they exert influence over an institution like the academy?

“Of course, I have a particularly loud voice,” Emory stated. “And my songs are catchy enough to spread throughout the land. I intend to ensure my experience is told so loudly that even the commission can’t silence it.”

As suspicious she was about the musician, Lotti appreciated the goal. Knowledge existed to be shared.

“Good luck,” she said. “You got to survive the tournament to tell its story, and there are competitors here who won’t hesitate to take you out even if you try to avoid the fighting. Heck, the first guy who attacked me did so while I was trying to crawl away on the ground.”

“It is a big of a hazard, yes. But that will make my tales all the more exciting. What a pair we make! The musician who does not fight, and the spellcaster without her spellbook.”

They were a unique pair, alright.

Hopefully, they weren’t a pair of sitting ducks.