Chapter One - Welcome to Shitake City

I had come to the Flaming Steppes for two reasons. The first, because it was the location of the nearest of my plundered phylacteries. And second, because the location interested me. It was rumoured to be a space where nature itself had turned fully against the civilised and where great monsters both living and not roamed.

So far I had been somewhat disappointed by the claims that this region was impossible to civilise, and despite being within the Steppes for some time, I had yet to reclaim my lost phylactery.

I wasn’t disappointed. What was a month worth to someone who had lived for eons?

Actually, no, that was foolish.

Too often, as a mortal, I had read accounts written by--or transcribed from the speakings of--great immortal beats and persons. These often spoke of them seeing the passing of decades the same way a simple man might see the passing of the average day.

This seemed entirely reasonable to my mortal mind at the time. Years did feel as if they slipped by faster as I aged. Would they not be faster still once I had reached a grand old age?

But no. As it turned out, these ancient old immortals were just dull, boring fools that didn’t do anything for decades on end.

Tending to a garden as a hobby was a perfectly valid, and even productive, way to spend one’s time. Tending to a single bonsai plant for a century while doing literally nothing else wasn’t.

I had met a few crotchety old monks that might disagree, but half the time they were so out of touch with current affairs that it was hardly worth the time to talk with them. And I won’t get started on the topic of druids.

I was becoming distracted by my own ruminations again. With a smidge of focus, I brought my attention away from the book I was perusing and back into the present. The carriage was making its way at a decent pace through the endless countryside of the Flaming Steppes. Mem had discovered how to open the windows and Cinder was still sitting straight as if she through a little casualness would set me off into a homicidal rage.

So all in all, very little had changed.

“When we arrive at the Ashen Forest, which I imagine will happen relatively soon, should we head directly into the forest itself, or is there somewhere we should stop first?” I asked.

Cinder jumped a little, then looked my way. “Hmm hmm hmm. Shitake city is built within an hour’s walk of the Ashen Forest. On paper it’s the seat of the sect.”

“On paper,” I said. “So the sect itself is within the forest?”

She nodded. “Near an area called the Untravelled Cove. There’s a large basin at the base of the mountains to the west of the Flaming Steppes. Water flows down from these and pools into a great lake. The sect is near that lake, though not exactly on its shores. That would make us far too obvious.”

“I see. Shiitake city will be our first stop, then. Is there readily available transportation from the city to the sect?”

Cinder shook her head. “No no no. That would be imminently unwise. The sect’s exact location is known to some on the outside, but we’ve always kept the number of people who know to a minimum. It’s safer that way.”

“Safety and obscurity is entirely valid, though I’ve always disliked it on a fundamental level,” I said. “Information is to be shared, most of all with me.”

Cinder nodded slowly at that. “I think, once the sect elders learn of your arrival, they might not mind it if you show up and learn what you can about the Ashen Forest. No offence, but most of our most specialised skills would be less than useful for you.”

Before I could question her on that, I noticed that we were slowing down, the world outside of the carriage’s window went from a rapid blur to moving no faster than if I were walking.

“Mem thinks we’re here,” Mem said as she leaned closer to the side. “Mem’s been here before.”

“In Shitake city?” I asked.

Mem bobbed her head. “This is the closest city to where Mom lives. When she sends us out to get stuff, it’s usually from here. Sometimes it’s Seven Hills.”

Seven Hills was a little more familiar. We had crossed through that little city on the way east. It wasn’t terribly impressive. The carriage rolled to a stop, and I noticed that there were carriage carts and pedestrians heading the other way. We were clearly close enough to the city that we were starting to run into traffic.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

The door on Cinder’s side swung open, and I found Alex standing on the ground next to the carriage, the floor reaching up to his chest on account of the height difference. “Hello, Daddy,” he said.

“Yes?” I asked.

“We have an issue.”

“Oh?” I asked.

“Oh no,” Cinder muttered.

I climbed out of the carriage. It was nice to move after so long sitting in one space, though I hardly had muscles to ache. The air outside of the carriage seemed rather dry, with drifts of yellow-brown dust covering the sides of the roads and extending out into sparse fields.

Ahead was a short line of carts leading up to an imposing wall.

Shitake city rose out of the ground like an imposing barrier of worked stone dusted grey and orange by fallen ash. The only thing poking out above the walls were a series of rounded roofs made of carefully overlapping clay tiles.

So far, nothing too extraordinary. The issue that Alex had seemed to come from a large sign mounted next to the entrance gate.

WELCOME TO SHITAKE! CITY OF MOULD AND ASH!

EVERYONE WELCOME!*

A smaller sign was planted on the ground next to the road.

*Except foreigners, the undead, people with lisps, philosophers, mathematicians, werewolves, non-imperial dragons, fake jade salesmen...

The list actually continued for some time, but it was clear that the latter additions were added by another brush, and in a smaller and smaller font as the sign slowly ran out of room.

“Miss Cinder, do you think that will be an issue?” Alex asked.

Cinder poked her head out of the carriage, then let out a sign that resonated strangely within her mask. “Give me a moment,” she said as she stepped out and landed with a slight bend of the knee. She tugged her parasol out from under her seat, then flumped it open.

I glanced upwards. There was a very faint stirring in the wind, and with it came rain. I reached a hand out and allowed a few flakes to land upon my finger so that I could better inspect them. Ash. Small pieces of grey-yellow ash.

Cinder noticed my inspection. “That’s from the mountains to the west. The forest shields the city from the worst of it. I would warn you not to eat any, but...”

“I’m afraid I don’t have the stomach for it,” I said.

The corners of Cinder’s eyes creased ever so slightly. “I imagine your culinary preferences lean more towards soul food anyway,” she said.

“I’m not that sort of lich,” I said. “Though I am always curious about how a city feeds itself. I haven’t noticed very many farms on the way in.”

“We farm from within the city,” she said. “Mushrooms, mostly. They’re apparently a delicacy to the south, but here they’re so common as to be seen as drab. Unfortunately, with so little farmable land, there’s not mushroom for anything other than what we’re growing already.”

“Oh-hoh!” I said. “I suppose even their value elsewhere doesn’t change how the locals with lichen them to an everyday food.”

Cinder’s shoulders shook. “I’m going to clear things with the city guard. I do have some amount of pull here, so you shouldn’t have to worry.” With a bow of her head, Cinder started towards the wall and the gatehouse built into it.

“I don’t like this place,” Rem said.

I glanced up. The mantis was sitting awkwardly atop the carriage, the reins leading to the horses tied around her scythes with little bows. “You don’t?” I asked.

Rem hissed. “The people here that should taste the best are all bad for you. And there are lots of my sisters here. She moved her eyes to stare at Alex. “You won’t like them. They’re not as smart or as polite as me, and they’re even more useless than Mem.”

“So, not a family reunion to look forward to,” I said.

“It’s worse,” Rem said. “There’s... bureaucrats.”

Well, that was an ill omen if I ever heard one. Though I hadn’t yet discovered a form I couldn’t tackle. Immortality lent a certain advantage when it came to challenging paperwork.

***