Map of Coratao [https://i.imgur.com/Vqed5oO.png]
A parchment map dipicting the counties of the Kingdom of Coratão. The Crownlans, rarely referred to as the heartlands, is where the capital of Histell rests. Home to the royal family. It can be found nestled between the borders of the Crownlans and Anglelans by the bay. Heirs to the throne are—historically—incumbent to the reign of the counties of the Anglelans and Drophorse Valley. Due to the current heir's decision to follow the ways of Preservation, those seats have been returned to their original families. Although this decision hasn't led to a notable outcry from the nobility, the smallfolk have taken warmly to her decision. Thinking her as selfless as the founder of their kingdom. She will, however, ascend the throne once she is anointed.
Hierrsé—through various expeditions braving the Vanished West—is the greatest extent of the known world. Only Eternity awaits beyond.
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“Are you a stowaway?” asked a tower-house of a woman.
Taní frowned, and though the dim hall afforded him a twilight’s-worth of light, her fierce scowl burned through the darkness. “No, I’m supposed to be on this ship. Just like I told the other sailor?” he said.
“And who, pray tell, was he?”
“The one on the gangway. Nearly tossed me overboard, too. Great guy.”
His vision adjusted to the darkness, revealing the monitor’s saffron-chambray eyes. She appeared seemingly unconvinced. Not that he blamed her. Compared to the highborn students’ fine silks, his rags barely passed for a washcloth. Even her unflattering dark robe dragging against the floor appeared “high class.” They definitely hid all the fat. She had a weirdly sharp face otherwise. Angular like a Tyrians.
At least she wouldn’t catch onto his scent with all the salt in the air. He couldn’t remember the last time he bathed.
“May I see your pass?” she asked, and though it sounded like a request, he knew it was a demand.
So, instead of arguing with her, Taní reached into his pants pocket and extracted a glossy, golden sash marked with the king’s seal: Voen’s blade thrust into the Godsfield Tower. A black tide flashed before his eyes like the blinding embrace of sleep. Gone just as quickly as it came.
He blinked, stared at his empty hand, then glanced up at the monitor, confused. She ran her thumb across the pass, eyes glued to the seal as if searching for some imperfection in what she probably believed to be a counterfeit mark. Once she failed to find no reason to throw him overboard, she shook her head and returned his sash.
“How one such as yourself gained entry to our honorable abode, I do not know, though neither do I care.” She stepped aside, chin held high. “Do try and make yourself…comfortable. We’ve another two hours before arrival. Ah, yes, please do be mindful of resting. We’d rather not disturb you from your slumber.”
Taní stuffed the sash back into his pocket, turned to the hall, then hesitated before setting forward.
“What seems to be the matter?” she asked, completely disinterested.
“Well…” Taní glanced at a nearby door, his voice low. “Is there a specific room I need to lodge in?”
“Cabin, and no. Choose whichever you like.”
“Really?”
She sighed. “Truly.”
The ship swayed as Taní took his first step. He’d been on boats before. Not hulking masses of wood such as this, but once you’ve experienced a rickety piece of swaying wood, you’ve experienced them all.
Finally, Taní chose the first door on the left, securing the chilling knob in his hand. Before he could twist it open, a chorus of arrogant laughter slipped through the cracks.
“What a loser.”
“Did you see the way he flopped? Idiot looked like he was getting ready to cry.”
“Ugh. Is a lowborn fry truly going to attend Hierrsé? I thought it a prestigious academy, not an almshouse.”
“Fah! They’re all the same, anyway. Just a bunch of half-way lucky runts with no other prospects. I say give him the experience! We could do with one less burden in the world.”
“Give it a week. Who knows, he might be smart enough to leave before someone serves him seared.”
Another round of laughter slipped through the cracks.
Releasing the knob from his grasp, Taní inched away from the door and made his way across the hall, tossing an odd glance the woman’s way. Her immaculate bearing left her immune to the ship’s swaying, her steely, luminescent saffron-chambray eyes set on nothing. With a few more inches, her pale blonde hair would scrape the ceiling.
Finally, he arrived at the opposite end of the hall, where a silent door stood. Accompanied only by the distant surf of the ocean.
With that vote of confidence, he threw open the door, revealing a bright, warm room. The moment he stepped in, a voice pierced the calm.
“Leave.”
Before Taní could apologize, it came again.
“Did you not hear me? I said leave, or shall I toss you out this porthole and return you to your proper school?”
Taní’s eyes met the lavender-yellow gaze of the annoyed boy from earlier, which displayed naught but the utmost contempt.
Panicking, he slammed the door shut. The strength—fueled by his urgency—had been so great that the blast of noise rattled the dim hall. Several doors cracked open a door later, their occupants’ heads popping out from all but one cabin. They cursed at him before swiftly retreating into their cabins.
Embarrassed, Taní flashed the monitor a shy smile, but she simply looked past him. Her arms folded behind her back, and chin held high. Like how a Juneacão from the Order of Ilaçel would stand watch.
Great crowd…
With nowhere else to go, he aimed for the last door on the right, but before he could push it open, a resounding hiss pierced the calm. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Taní faced the monitor, more confused than scared. “Opening a door?”
“That is our Young Lady’s room! None save her are permitted entrance!”
“But…they all look the same, and you never said I couldn’t enter this one.” He gestured to it.
“That was before I knew you daft enough to lodge with her.”
“So…it’s not off limits?”
“It is,” the woman reiterated firmly.
Taní flashed her a flat look. “Then it was off-limits after I discovered the fact.”
“Yes.”
“Meaning it was never off-limits.”
“Yes— No! Do not think yourself clever, boy. Invitee you may be, this does not render you immune to suspicion. And I?” She drew closer to him with a long, smooth stride. “I doubt the legitimacy of such a pass.”
Exasperated beyond belief, Taní turned to her with a shuffling sigh. “Lady, madame, whatever you want to be called that all the other Ladies like to be called. Either I stay in this room, or I stand beside you the entire trip. Which one would you like?”
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She stared at him, lips pursed, and when she offered her stifling silence in response, he continued. “Right. I guess we can talk, but you don’t seem like the social type. Maybe you haven’t had your wine…?” He snapped his fingers as an idea came to mind. “Wanna hear about my Master teaching me how to count? He did it with scales. There’s a lot of them on the Desolator’s hide. A bunch even have stories! And there’s this really weird part that looks higher than the rest! And…”
He broke into a sweeping lecture concerning the controversial history of the twinkling scales. Otherwise referred to as “the reminders of Wishes yet to be, and battles had” by Danza. Taní lacked plenty of practical knowledge in the field. Then again, just how “practical” one’s expertise regarding a dead body hanging in the sky was debatable. Unless he was a scalereader who can glimpse the future in his dreams, the sky just…didn’t matter.
Taní expanded upon his initial introduction regarding the weird part on the Desolator’s hide. The one to the very far center that sat all by itself, regardless of the time of year.
He only ceased his torture when the woman’s chest rose. She inhaled the world’s sharpest breath of air, her eyes bulging with outrage.
“Do as you must,” she squeezed out between clenched teeth, “but remember: If you harm so much as a single strand on her head, then you shan’t live to regret it. Breaking light is no concern of mine. Do you understand, boy?”
Satisfied, Taní shot her a thumbs up and entered the room.
†
The intoxicating scent of sugary cherries and cream washed over Taní, eliminating the salty stench that permeated the ship. He paused, took a greater whiff of the air, and felt lighter. Good blood, that scent never got old. Sure, he never had the privilege of sampling that heavenly delight, but watching all those squires snack on it like no tomorrow…
A discomforting claw ripped at his empty stomach. Right, he’d missed breakfast…
When Taní’s vision adjusted to the light, he found a cushioned bench to either side of the black-painted wall. Not as bulky as a sofa, but it could certainly make do as a bed if called for. The array of lacey pillows certainly made the prospect tempting.
White veils of silk adorned the cabins interior, on which pearls, seashells, and unidentified gems dangled from like treasures waiting to be plucked. In the center, there sat an ebony table veined with gold. Wide enough to set a cup of nightsip on, and some snacks.
A Desoleet…? Good blood. That type of wood only came from the Northern Hollow in Déqom. A barren wasteland of black and speckled gold occupied by startling dark trees, or so a drunken Déqoish sailor had once told him. How rich—
Taní’s breath caught in his throat as a swirl of dazzling colors steered his gaze to the bench. Their canvas: A porcelain-hued girl sat primly upon the left walled-seat. All That Is. Twice he’s heard those words muttered by his mother when she described his late father, but looking at her now…
Her left leg—clad in a form-fitting white hose—crossed over her right knee, hands folded atop, and though he knew her eyes to be a stunning compliment to her flawless skin, Tygenna had deemed him undeserving of the sight. Her lids shut and head tilted down. Was she asleep?
Taní’s focus drifted to her hair. Styled in the cut of a layered bob, her voluminous bangs brushed past her right eye, shielding it from view. Not a single strand erred from its set, groomed to absolute perfection. She even had an adorable little beauty mark beneath her left eye!
And those locks…
A salmon stringed with flaxen brilliance. Like the noble Anglers towards the northwestern tip of Coratão.
The ship swayed again, propelling him into a stumbling waltz. One in which he battled the very rage of the sea just to prolong the sight. He couldn’t—wouldn’t tear his eyes away. Not from her.
Taní’s sole companion remained as still as a statute, though even a master-crafted work would pale before such god-hewn excellence. Her details were more…defined. Subtle, yet just as intricate. Like the winding branch of a grapevine.
Despite that, she did not shift unless the ship swayed.
A distressing thought struck him from his revere: Maybe she wasn’t even real. It could be a doll. A pretty one, but still a doll. Put it past the nobility for making a creepy life-sized toy…
Curious, Taní snapped his fingers. Nothing. Her hair simply swayed like a silken curtain. As for her chest, he had yet to see it rise.
He whistled and waved his hand. Again, nothing.
Convinced of her somewhat controversial (and jarring) nature, he inched his way forward, hand set against the table for balance, the other reaching towards her face.
Before Taní’s finger so much as grazed her delicate features, her eyes snapped open. She appeared neither furious nor confused, simply even. Focused.
Her non-reaction made Taní flinch all the same, his heart lodging itself in his throat.
“Pray explain your behavior?” she asked, her calm, refined accent hinting at northern Coros descent.
“Uh…just checking?”
“For what?”
“That you’re real?”
The girl closed her eyes. Taní waited ten, twenty, then thirty seconds for a response, but none came. He felt stupid standing there, and the longer he idled, the more he became convinced that he had imagined the entire scenario. Is that monitor really getting to me?
Taní glanced either way for affirmation, then reached for the maybe-but-probably-not doll once more. Her eyes flickered to life as his finger came within brushing distance of her slender nose. He expected her ire to manifest in cruel words, yet all he she did was stare back at him. An chilling pinprick of disquiet needled its way into his very core, promising naught but death.
Realizing that something incredibly horrific would occur, Taní retreated to his side with a long, blind step backwards.
The light swishing of the ocean drew his attention to the cabin’s porthole. Even then, all he could spot was the cloudy skies. A storm was approaching.
He occasionally spared the maybe-but-probably-not doll a glance, though her inanimation persisted. A part of him wondered how much practice it had taken to master this deathlike stillness, though another part made him question why she even bothered to be like this.
After Taní’s heart had a moment to settle, he blinked, breathed, then swallowed. She was just a girl. Just a—
His vision flickered, replacing the cabin with the unreal, light-strewn Prism of his dreams. Where the blacker-than-night void glared down at him as if he were all of Valeço’s wrongs. It stretched for an eternity, breaking the heavenly silence of the twinkling sparks above. Their assigned prison a pocket within a pocket. A space towards the edge of existence, destined to be forgotten.
And the very thought of it left the Gaoler drained unlike anything else.
Exhausted, he turned his attention to the Prism’s base, a manifold of saturated wash littered with the scatterings of what would one day craft the celestial bodies. And who else but his dearly beloved to accompany him? ----------, the Architect of the End, or ----------, plainly. As if plain could ever hope to describe her.
She sat as the maybe-but-probably not doll did, and those eyes. Those azure-beige gems that captured the heavens and earth in one breathtaking glance. They gazed at him with an undying, affectionate tenderness that defied their Iterations. Though her long hair was dark, and her skin tanned, she bore a vague resemblance to the doll. They didn’t share the same facial structure, for this woman’s face was more noble. Her jaw slightly squared, and yet…
“Hey,” Taní called out to her, and thought the voice belonged to him, the dissonance broke him from his vessel. Like an eavesdropper spying on a half-whispered exchange. The illusion shattered, and yet the stillness remained. “What is this place?” he finished.
“An 1158 caravel refitted for Hierrsé Academy,” the doll supplied, her refined, elegant voice streaming from her lips like a cool spring breeze.
Taní tilted his head. “Oh…thanks?”
Nothing.
“Okay…where’re we headed?”
“The southern port facing the mainland, also known as Hierrsé Port. While I’ve a passing familiarity with their protocols, they restrict student travel towards the north.”
“Why’s that?”
“Pirates.”
He nodded thoughtfully, then asked, “Are you real?”
Silence.
Taní’s sigh devolved into a miserable laugh. “Of course not…”
“You’re anxious,” she said evenly.
“That’s one way of putting it…”
“Rest while you can, and if you’ve need for further relief, breathe. Anticipation is naught but a vacant harrow we’ve limited to suffering.”
“Is that why you’re sleeping?”
“I’m not resting.” Her lids rose, unveiling a breathtaking set of enthralling lavender-sapphire eyes. “I’m meditating.”
Taní’s heart stuttered at the base of his throat. “O-Oh. Why?”
“One needs to sort through the weeds from their mind, else they risk snagging onto rubbish.”
“Are you always this still?”
She knocked her head to the side thoughtfully. “I suppose so. One’s bearing should reflect their state of mind, else they risk endangering the entire aspect.”
“And this wordy?”
No response.
Good blood, just when he was getting somewhere… “You’re a student, yeah?” he pressed.
“Second-year honors.”
“Second-year? You’re starting late?”
“Yes. I suffered the misfortune of another of my father’s examples. Not that my escaping would’ve earned me his favor. It’s seldom worth the risk,” she explained, her eyes never drifting from his.
“Are you excited about going back?”
She turned away, her eyes watching him from the corners. “I suppose I am.”
Taní lost the urge to keep the conversation going, so he fell silent.
Every now and again, he’d steal a peek at her, never observing much beyond her meditation. Curious, he copied her, hoping to gain some newfound insight through careful reflection. This only resulted in him dozing in and out of consciousness. First for a minute, then ten, until he finally lost track of time.
Late into their first hour, he discovered a slight “anomaly” in the room. A breeze sweeter than the scent of cream-topped cherries. The sound of breathing. Her breathing.
With chin dipped towards her chest, and her glossy lips boasting the remnants of that tempting dessert, she slept like an untroubled babe. And the very thought left Taní smiling.
“Hey, are you asleep?” Taní asked in a whisper.
A slight gasp of air broke her pattern. Something akin to a breathy snore.
“Yeah…I get you. Rode out since morn. Pretty tired myself, but I’ve got a feeling I’m gonna be a lot more tired from now on.”
The slight creak of wood interrupted his train of thought.
“But maybe it won’t be so bad. Who knows, maybe we can even be friends. You know…if you don’t mind. Not really highborn like the rest of you, but a Juneacão can never have enough comrades, right? That way, we’d all have each other’s backs. No one’d be left behind.” Taní rubbed his nose, then after a brief pause, lowered his head. “Nah…you’re probably great at taking care of yourself. I don’t know why. You just have that look.”
With a soft sigh, he rested his head on a fluffy pillow. It might not have been a proper bed, but it was the closest thing to heaven he’s ever felt. Whatever might come his way, he’d be ready. Maybe not entirely, but flunking didn’t sound like an enticing option. Especially when he’d be failing the only person who had saved him from Histell’s outskirts.
Yes. If he could do just one thing, it would be this. Even if he stumbled along, he had to make it work. He just had to.