Shalnark

Shalnark and Don rode through the night to create as much distance between them and Riverhill as possible. Don suggested they ride their horses at a slow pace, for the trails here were too rough to ride on at a gallop safely. Shalnark was continually checking over his shoulder, looking for anyone who may be pursuing them. “We need to get moving quickly. That Holy Knight could be upon us at any moment.”

“Relax, my friend. Dusk will warn us if anyone is in pursuit,” Don said confidently.

“You would put our lives in the hands of a mindless bird?”

“Dusk is far from mindless. He is an animal guardian. I’ll have you know, that raven likely has more wisdom than the two of us combined.”

Shalnark kept looking over his shoulder at the faintest sound that could potentially be a galloping warhorse. “Forgive me if I doubt the wisdom of a well-trained pet bird.”

“That pet bird has lived almost five raven lifetimes without being killed by a single predator. If anyone can help us evade capture, it is him.”

“There you go again with this mystical speech. I learned your empirical language less than a year ago, and you don’t seem much better at it than I am. You’re going to need to speak more plainly for me to understand. Magic is incredibly rare where I am from.”

“My apologies. I tend to forget what I know is not common knowledge.”

Shalnark glared at Don.

“Dusk is the eternal soul of a bird that died somewhere in this dimension. When animals die, their souls are taken to the First Gardens, where they can be reincarnated. I summoned his spirit from there, and he allowed me to bind him to my service.”

“So, you brought a dead bird back from the dead and made it your slave pet?”

Don ran a hand through his hair. “When you put it that way, it sounds so sinister. I assure you, Dusk is not a slave. If he ever wished to leave my service, I would allow him to do so.”

“What if he wants to leave your service, and you refuse?”

“Well . . . I would never do that.”

“I can see why the Church of the Holy Trinity puts such a watchful eye on you magicians. If someone evil had your power, they could rob every vault in the empire and send an army of bears and wolves to devastate a village.”

Don chuckled. “Even if I were to take a dark turn and wish to lay waste to the empire, it would not be as easy as you put it. We magicians have many limitations.”

“Like what?” Shalnark scoffed.

“Well, you saw one yourself. I cannot use my spells infinitely. I am limited by my magic reserve, just as regular folk are limited by their physical endurance. Once my magic reserve is tapped out, I am completely unable to cast spells. Magic is far from effortless.”

“My transformations are basically effortless. I can do them all day, every day without rest,” Shalnark boasted.

“Is that so? Then my theory about your origin was correct!” Don grinned. “You, my friend, are a changeling.”

“A what?”

“A changeling is a shapeshifter created by fairies to replace stolen children.”

Shalnark laughed at the absurdity of what he just heard. “You are either making this up as you go or have gone completely mad.”

“My sanity may be questionable, but my knowledge is not. An Unseelie fairy sent one of its minions into this world, stole the real Shalnark away from his parents as a babe or young child, created an exact duplicate of the child by creating you, a changeling, and finally left you in the child’s place.”

“That sounds like pure nonsense. What does a fairy have to gain from all this?”

Don shrugged. “I have no idea. Perhaps we can ask one if we ever meet one.”

“Well, the fairy that made me this way must have botched up horribly or couldn’t remember where to put me, because I grew up in an orphanage.”

“What is an orphanage?” Don asked.

“I’m certain I’m using the right word. An orphanage is where children without parents live.”

“Oh, I see. Where I come from, we don’t have a word for parentless,” Don said somberly. “Everyone in a child’s tribe pulls together to raise them. Where I am from, you will never be alone so long as your tribe lives on.” Don frowned for the first time since Shalnark met him. When he realized Shalnark was still listening, he shook the frown from his face and continued, “Perhaps the fairy lost the real Shalnark and was left with a spare changeling.”

“Great, now I know for a fact that I was a mistake,” Shalnark said sarcastically.

You are not a mistake, Shalnark! Ebennen shouted. This man is probably lying anyway. I don’t think we can trust him.

I don’t think this madman has a reason to lie about this. That whole story just seemed too fantastical to be the truth, Shalnark said. However, we have seen some extraordinary things since we arrived on this continent. Perhaps we could at least humor his theory for now.

“Well . . . let’s focus on the positives then, shall we?” Don said, leaning off his horse to pat Shalnark on the shoulder. “Assuming my memory serves me, changelings never die of old age. If you learn to master your shape-changing powers, you too will be immortal!”

“Haven’t I already mastered my powers? I can assume the form of any man or woman I wish. I can change my entire skin tone and face as I see fit.” Shalnark assumed Don’s form with ease.

“You’ve done well on your own, but you have literally only scratched the surface of what you are capable of. When you fully grow into adulthood, which is far later than humans do, you will be able to transform every organ in your body to fit your desires, including your muscles and skeleton.”

Shalnark glanced at his left arm that was still elongated from his chase with Don.

So I didn’t break my arm back there. I literally shapeshifted it longer.

It seems that way. If you can do that, I wonder what else your powers would enable you to do when you reach your potential, Ebennen pondered.

“I could finally make myself taller,” Shalnark japed as he showed Don his extended arm.

Don chuckled. “I’m sure we will find someone in our travels who can help you become a full-fledged changeling.”

“About that,” Shalnark said. “Where exactly are we heading?”

“Our journey will take us to the great Galatean city of Boukua. It is there that I will finally get to witness the renowned Festival of the Azure Moon.” Don’s hands painted the sky.

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“I heard tales of a bright Azure Moon showing itself in the sky every eight years,” Shalnark said. “I’ve not been here long enough to see it myself. The Azure Moon doesn’t appear at all where I am from.”

“It is a true gift to witness,” Don said.

“What is so special about this Festival of the Azure Moon? I thought my job was just to escort you to your family.”

“When I was a young boy, I was separated from my family while we were traveling. I wish to reunite with them at least once before continuing my adventures throughout the empire. After all, how can you know where you are going if you don’t know where you are from?”

Shalnark’s mind was flooded with images of his home. He dared not linger on them, for doing so only brought hopeless despair. “I suppose that would be as good of a first stop as any. How does the Festival of the Azure Moon tie into that?”

“I was very young when I lost them. The only vivid memories I have of my family are my father’s stories of the Galatean beastmen who threw this grand festival unrivaled in revelry. Since I was too young to remember where I was raised, the only clue I have of their whereabouts is this Festival of the Azure Moon held in Boukua.”

“Where exactly is Boukua?”

Don tugged at his collar. “In the southernmost territory of the empire . . . on the other end of the Avelorn desert.”

“And when is this Azure Moon supposed to appear?”

“It begins on the equinox . . . in around four weeks.”

“You can’t be serious! We would have to ride hundreds of miles from here across a blazing desert. There’s no fucking way we can get there before the Azure Moon appears.”

“By horse, of course not, but by sea, it will be easy.”

Shalnark gulped at the mention of the sea.

“If we ride west and procure a decent ship, we can sail to Galatea and make it to Boukua with a few days to spare. Assuming we don’t run into a storm!” Don joked.

Shalnark shuddered. “Is reuniting with your family truly going to be worth the journey?”

“I missed my chance to meet them during the last Azure Moon. Likely, my parents may not live to see the next. If I cannot make it to the festival this time, I could miss my chance to reunite with my family forever.”

Shalnark raised an eyebrow.

No matter how much I poke and prod, this Pallumian has a response for everything. I think we’ll enjoy his company at least for a while, Shalnark thought.

Agreed. This could be the break we were looking for, Ebennen said.

“Very well,” Shalnark said. “We will do our best to find your family. In the meantime, I will be doing my best to fill our purses with coin so we can afford that teleportation circle you were going on about. How much will you need to make this thing anyway? Assuming your father doesn’t have access to one.”

“I am not entirely sure, for I have never tried to craft one. If I had to guess, I would say at least thirty sovereigns or three thousand silver pennies to buy the materials.”

Shalnark’s mouth dropped. “That is a massive fortune! Most nobility will never see that much wealth in a single place!”

“I never said it would be cheap . . .” Don said guiltily. “It may be easier for us to find an already crafted teleportation circle to use. All I would need after that would be a teleportation stone, which could cost around one sovereign piece or one hundred silver pennies.”

Shalnark slouched in his saddle. “I’ll keep my ears open for one. I imagine something as expensive as that must be rare and highly regulated.” He sighed. “Looks like I won’t be going home for a long while.”

“Where is this home of yours anyway? If you wish to go home so badly, why not just travel there yourself? We are already traveling a quarter of the way across the world to attend this festival. How far away could your home truly be?”

“To be honest, I am unsure where my home is,” Shalnark said with a shrug, finally peeling his gaze from over his shoulder. “I grew up as a professional thief but was far from perfect. After a botched job, I was running away from the police in my hometown of Marlut. They chased me to the pier, and I lost them by stowing away on some large steamboat with an unknown heading.”

“Steamboat? I’m afraid I don’t know this word.”

“It’s a bit hard to explain.” He rubbed his neck. “It’s sort of like a large ship that can move using a machine rather than sails or oars.”

“Fascinating! How could such a ship move? Is it magic? What kind—” Don stopped. “Sorry, my curiosity is getting the best of me again. Please continue.”

“As I was saying, I ended up stowing away on this ship, thinking I could eventually find my way home once it hit port, but of course, Lady Luck chose that time to collect all my luck debt at once. The steamboat sailed for weeks before it found itself swept up in the most horrendous hurricane I had ever experienced. The wind blew so hard it ripped the deck of the ship from its foundation. The water looked like steel as it sliced the ship to ribbons. Somewhere in the watery hell, I lost consciousness.”

“My goodness, that sounds awful! How in the world did you survive?”

“By the grace of Lady Luck, I somehow found myself adrift aboard a large chunk of the ship’s hull. I drifted at sea for days with no food or fresh water before being scooped up by a merchant vessel sailing the gulf. I found myself trapped in this foreign land where no one spoke my language. Even when I did eventually learn to speak Traven, no one seemed to know of a port city called Marlut despite it being the capital of my homeland, Geergan. That was around three years ago, and I have been stuck here ever since searching for a way to get home or at least one person who knows of the existence of Geergan.”

Don took it all in and nodded. Shalnark did not expect a response and retreated into himself. His face grew red, and he turned away from Don.

This is the point where he thinks I’m insane, Shalnark thought.

You may be a professional liar, but everything you just told Don was the absolute truth, Ebennen consoled.

So many people have disbelieved my story. Don’t you think it is more likely that I dreamt it all up in this twisted little mind of mine? I should’ve just said I was from Solemn or something . . .

“Tell me more of this Geergan,” Don finally responded. “It sounds absolutely mystical!”

“Wow . . . I’m not exactly sure where to start.” Shalnark chuckled. Ever since he was stranded in the empire, no one had ever genuinely inquired about his homeland. It felt nice to send his thoughts toward home without feeling hopeless.

“To begin with, Geergan is anything but mystical. Where I come from, magic is nowhere near as potent as it is in this part of the world and is so rare that most people don’t even think it exists anymore.”

“If magic is so rare, how do you explain that boat that can sail the open sea without sails or rowers?”

“Magic disappeared hundreds of years ago, so my people have embraced science in its place. Through ingenuity and cunning, the greatest minds of the world invented a magnitude of machines that changed everything about our lives. We have machines called planes that can fly through the skies, machines called steamboats that can sail the open seas, and machines called locomotives that can carry thousands of pounds of goods and people across the entire country in days.”

Don stared as wide-eyed as a child, hanging on every word. “Incredible! We absolutely must find this place so that I may witness its wonders with my own eyes! Such technology must be a true marvel to see.”

“When you grow up exposed to it, you can easily take it for granted. It’s not until you are thrust into a world without it that you realize just how far your people have come. I mean no offense, but from my perspective, Travens are living like mine did hundreds of years in the past.”

“How do you mean?”

“In my time here, I’ve noticed that the wealthy have a form of pistol they carry. Though it is an extremely deadly weapon, it is fairly inaccurate and can only be fired once before needing to be reloaded. In Geergan, we have pistols that can fire six shots and can be reloaded in seconds. Firearms have become so powerful that swords and spears have almost been rendered obsolete. Even most armors can’t defend against these modern guns.”

“Most armors?” Don asked with a rising tone.

“I say most because most bullets would have no effect on an ironhead,” Shalnark said, picturing the towering mechanized harnesses in his head.

“Is this armor made from orichalcum?”

“I have no idea what that is, but no. Ironheads are massive suits of armor made of pure steel. They are machines in the shape of giants and piloted by gnomes inside. They are used as peacekeepers and machines of war.”

Don simply laughed. “If such a land existed within reach of a galleon expedition, I certainly would have heard of it. I see now why you need a teleportation circle.” Don put his hand to his chin. “It stands to reason that if no one in the empire or the rest of the continent has ever heard of Geergan, it must lie far beyond the reach of our ships!” Don hammered his fist into his palm.

Shalnark chuckled as the smile returned to his face. “So . . .you believe me then?”

“Of course I do! I’ve seen far too many wondrous and mystical things far more outrageous than the land you just described! However, unless I have an idea of where the destination leads, it would be dangerous to try to send you there blindly. For all I know, you could end up spiraling through Inner Space to your doom. Even when we do have access to a teleportation circle, we will need some means of identifying where on the planet I would be sending you.”

“How would we do that?” Shalnark asked.

“A good map would work. The more details, the better. A simple doodle will not suffice. A person who knows how to get there would be the best solution.”

Shalnark clenched the reins of his horse tight. For the first time in years, he had an actual plan that could get him home.

“But first . . .” Shalnark peeked into Don’s old bag of silver. “We still need to accrue an immense fortune. It seems like I won’t be heading home anytime soon.”

“Patience, new friend,” a deep voice shouted from far behind them.

A startled Shalnark grabbed a dagger from his belt and prepared to throw it into the darkness. A raven flew to Don and perched itself on his arm.

“Our journey has only just begun,” the raven said.

Don nodded in agreement.

Of course . . . Of course the raven can talk.