Chapter 1
Thunderous waves crashed against the weathered shores of Andang Coast, bringing with them a salty breeze all too familiar to the inhabitants of Port Besaar. Despite the cooling effect of the wind, the molten sun basked the land in perpetual humidity that ensured an eternal summer. A flock of gulls rode the North Sea winds that dominated the Gulf of Kesaya, some occasionally diving down to snatch up any ill-fated fish that dared near the water’s surface. Fleets of fishing vessels dotted the shores of the bustling port, harvesting dozens of smelt with each cast of the net. Several made way for trading ships entering in from all corners of the world, each varied based on whichever crew commandeered them. A colossal pelican whale breached the calm waters with its fluke without warning, knocking a few of the boats off course and sending the fishermen into a fit of uttered curses. Other boatmen nearby marveled at the sight of such a massive creature so close to shore.
Sannan Kizmata gaped in awe as the back of the animal briefly surfaced from the once calm waters to expel a fountain of saltwater from its blowhole. Of all the fishing excursions he has been on this past year, Sannan knew he would definitely remember this one. Sweat beaded on his forehead from the relentless heat of the sun, but all Kesani gradually became accustomed to it with the passage of time. Tuahn, with his broad brimmed straw hat mitigating the sun's rays, grinned proudly at the day’s catch.
“No wonder a whale would show up today of all days. The algae blooms are attracting more fish than Besaar has seen in months!”
Sun dark from decades of fishing, Tuahn hardly resembled his son, being tall and lanky where Sannan was stout. “Now I know you want to get back to tinkering, but we have to take advantage of all the fish that have gathered today.”
Sannan was still staring at the spot the whale breached in wonder. The shimmering waters were as clear as ever, yet there was no sign a whale had ever been here.
“Dad, do you think we could ever get a hold of one of those image capturers they produce at the High City? I believe some call them Kameras? We see these astounding sights in the natural world, and it would be great to have a permanent image to capture the memory. Besides, I really would like to break apart one of those devices to see how they work.”
Tuahn let out a hoarse laugh. “Once the family sells enough fish, I reckon that Kamera is as good as yours.”
Lines of merchant vessels crossed paths with Tuahn’s fishing boat, some large enough to blanket the smaller vessel in shadow. Sannan recognized most of them, from the distinctive ribbed sails of the Sarhidians to the formidable galleons of Indura. Nevertheless, the vessels that fascinated him the most were the iron wrought ships originating from the High City, with engines said to draw power from ether and sharp bows that sliced through the waves like knives. In fact, Sannan would often dream of being aboard one of those ships, always hoping that the reality of what lay onboard would rival his imaginations. Even as Tuahn piloted the fishing boat back to the docks, Sannan continued to admire the iron ships from afar.
The docks were populated by people from all walks of life. Dockworkers loaded in barrels full of fish to be sold to the local fishmongers, professionals in their craft with a keen eye for the freshest produce. Sannan grunted as he made his way down the docks hefting a sack full of smelt whiting, though watching other fisherman helpers haul larger quarries encouraged him to keep going. After all, his own well muscled arms were a testament to his years spent performing labor intensive chores. On the way back, Tuahn stopped by to inquire about a nearby fishmonger’s wares; Tuna whose size nearly rivaled that of a large dog. With a gap-toothed grin, the fishmonger whispered a few words into Tuahn’s ear, who simply nodded and continued on his way.
“I am telling you, Sannan. Those fish are meant for Kings and Queens! My father and his father before him always hoped to specialize in catching Emperor Tuna. It is no easy feat though, lad. You almost have to wrestle the darn things without the aid of a throwing harpoon.” Tuahn suddenly appeared deep in thought. “Perhaps son, you could one day invent a contraption to help net me an Emperor Tuna. Now that would be something.”
“I promise I’ll make you a wealthy fisherman with that,” Sannan answered with a grin.
“Now, now son. That contraption might take the fun out of catching those fish. But an Emperor Tuna is an Emperor Tuna, that will fetch a high price all the same.”
Sannan grimaced. “If I could just find a way to visit Osveta within my lifetime. All the talented mechanics of the world seem to have gathered there, and they just would not share some of their breakthroughs with the rest of the world.”
Sometimes when he thought of the High City, Sannan would recall an experience early last year that he would never forget.
The streets of the Jurand market were flooded with merchants as usual. Proud Indurans with their multicolored silk robes intermingled with Zaran from the Sand Kingdoms across the Thalassian Sea. Fishmongers and hawkers competed with one another to promote their goods, their voices adding to the cacophony of the marketplace. Sannan had to push and shove his way through the crowd just to reach a trusted oyster supplier whom his father would normally frequent. Alas, Tuahn could not make the appointed meeting, leaving his son to handle the purchases. Just as Sannan was nearing his destination, he noticed a group of foreigners crowding in front of the selling booth.
Not just any foreigners, Sannan thought. They were nobles from the High City, the man outfitted with an ornate coat embroidered with vines and the woman in a high necked gown with a touch of gold at the hem. What caught Sannan’s eye, however, was the young girl that accompanied the nobles, what he assumed was her family. She bore hair paler than any Sannan has seen before, done up in a braid hanging across her right shoulder. Somehow, her dress was more elaborate than her mother’s, with embroidery in the form of flowers decorating the sleeves and a maze pattern circling the skirt. Then Sannan noticed the girl’s eyes, iridescent as an ocean pearl, looking straight back at him.
She beamed at him and waved, as if they were old friends. “Hey there! Are you seeking to purchase the oysters too?” Sannan’s heart skipped a beat. He was never used to a stranger addressing him so directly.
Trying to suppress a stutter, Sannan said, “W-Why yes. My father is sick, you see and sent me in his stead.” The oyster salesman turned towards the young boy, a round man with a puckered scar below his lower lip.
He spoke in a gravelly voice. “My condolences for your father, and I hope he gets better soon. Now how many oysters do you need?”
After making his purchase, Sannan was about to head back home when he surprised himself by asking the girl, “Excuse me, but if I may be so kind as to ask where you are from?” He essentially blurted it out and instantly felt regret. Obviously she was from the High City, but something about her was making him lose his wits.
She smiled and replied, “The High City of Osveta. Emra Vosalfa of House Vosalfa. And you are?” Emra’s parents were occupied with another Osvetian noble, which did help ease Sannan’s nerves. Those pearlescent eyes appeared to stare straight into his soul.
Sannan gave a nervous laugh. “Sannan. I am just some fisherman’s helper, but I want to know more about what life is like in the High City. Y-You see just the other day I saw some great mechanical construct accompanying some folk who are from there. Surely you would know what those are, right? And is it true that there is an automated transport that runs through the city? I know it’s a lot of questions, but I have just been dying to know!”
Instead of answering right away, Emra reached into her beltpack and withdrew a sparkling orb that seemed to alternate between various shades of blue. Sannan immediately recognized the object as the very core used to power the mechanical construct, or at least he had to believe it to be the power source given the automaton bore veins that glowed in the exact same hues.
Darting her head towards the crowd, Emra cupped her hands around the object as if to shield it from any potential onlookers. “This is what we call a Lumix core. All the wonders of the High City are made possible with this, and there are many who would pay a fortune to get their hands on one. I keep this one as a spare, but now I am thinking you should have it.”
As Emra was describing the core, Sannan could feel his heart beating faster with excitement, and it nearly leaped out of his chest at the mention that he could potentially own it.
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“There is no way this is happening!” Eyes suddenly wide, Emra took another glance at the crowd before making a gesture with her mouth. “Quiet down, we do not want to attract unnecessary attention here.” Lowering her voice accordingly, Emra nearly whispered, “you could have the core, but I would ask something of you first. By any chance, could you show me one of the contraptions you have been working on?”
“Of course,” Sannan answered, at which point Emra returned a smile.
“I knew you did more than run fishermen’s errands. Find me around the Jurand market tomorrow with your best work, and I will consider giving you the core. Perhaps with enough experimentation, you could find good use for it.”
True to her word, Emra was waiting at the market the following day – her unbraided hair now dangling past her waist. Her eyes immediately fixated upon the mechanical hand Sannan held delicately in both of his.
“Interesting item you’ve got there, Sannan. Before I take a look, may I suggest we talk somewhere else?”
Emra sneaked a glance at her parents – debating over the price of some merchant’s wares – before leading Sannan to a quiet alleyway. There, Emra inspected Sannan’s creation, turning the mechanical hand over and articulating the fingers.
“You have recreated an artifice’s hand quite well,” Emra commended. “That’s what we call those automatons, where I’m from.”
“I just know it will never function without a power source,” Sannan said despondently.
“No need to feel bad about that. Given the limited resources you had to work with, this is admirable work. I’d say you have earned this Lumix core.” Stunned, Sannan was at a loss for words.
“I… thank you,” Sannan stammered. “You have no idea the number of people living in Kesaya and beyond, who could only dream of having something like this.”
Emra sighed. “I could only imagine. In an ideal world, this technology would be accessible to everyone. A tram system that goes through a whole city? Osveta has no right to claim exclusivity to that. Which reminds me, you came to me with loads of questions the other day, and I will be more than happy to answer them now.”
Emra began addressing Sannan’s inquiries, elaborating more on Osveta’s machines with exquisite detail. Sannan listened eagerly as she spoke of her homeland, how Osvetian fashion was changing with the advent of the High City’s rapid growth and development. Before long the noble in the vine embroidered coat found the pair and scowled upon noticing the Lumix core in Emra’s hands.
“You really intend to give it away? What makes you think this boy can be trusted?”
Emra’s cheeks flushed, and she protested, “Father, I feel Sannan here can make better use of the core than me. He is just a curious soul who has always been fascinated by our technology, so could you please give him a chance?”
Sannan could feel his hands quivering in anticipation, knowing full well it is not everyday that someone from the High City would afford him the chance of walking home with such an item. Emra’s father tugged one end of his mustache irritably, but nodded hesitantly.
“Fine, just do not expect me to replace Zenas’s core anytime soon after it runs out. Now get going, our ship sets sail in around ten minutes.” Upon handing the Lumix core to Sannan, Emra smiled apologetically. “There is so much more I would like to tell you, but it looks like we are out of time.”
“It’s alright, my lady. This gift alone is more than I could have ever asked for.”
That was the last time Sannan ever saw the young girl, as well as the last time he truly spoke with anyone from the High City in earnest. His father cursed under his breath as he carefully made his way around patches of gull droppings. The fishermen’s ward was mostly empty today, with most presumably out to take full advantage of the algae blooms. Sidewalks constructed from makeshift planks flanked a dirt road where horse carts and merchant trains trundled along, carrying barrel loads of fresh fish to market. Several fishermen went on to boast about their day’s catch whilst measuring up some samples for comparison. Tuahn mostly ignored them, muttering to himself about the day when he could lay hands on an Emperor Tuna. Bordering the sidewalks, ramshackle wooden complexes were piled one on top of the other, each connected by flights of stairs.
By the time Sannan finally made it up to their lodgings on the upper level, his muscles ached from the strain of lugging the fish sack. The smell of fish permeated the humid air, though Sannan was so used to it by now that the lack of it around the inner city felt wrong. Tuahn frowned as his son stumbled into the complex in exhaustion.
“Ah, I know it’s a lot but the excess catch will be enough to sustain the family for quite some time.”
Massaging his back, Sannan nodded in agreement. Theirs was a simple lodging with minimal furnishings – wooden cabinets purchased from local craftsmen as well as a rough hewn table surrounded by rickety stools. Sastal Kizmata emerged from the kitchen, wearing a severe expression across a weathered face. Her hair was done up in a tight, silver bun and her apron was still slightly burnt from an incident where the stove caught fire.
Her harsh stare was directed at Tuahn this time round, and her voice held a mellifluous quality despite her age. “Young man, you look awfully content from today’s catch. I take it the rumors of the algae blooms were true?”
Tuahn took off his straw hat to wipe some sweat off his forehead. “Oh believe me, there were schools of fish as far as the eye can see. It’s as if Nereid herself has churned the waves to let loose the ocean’s bounty.” He spoke as if he could not believe it himself. “To think that we have not had algae blooms in years, at this magnitude, and this close to shore!”
“With this large of a catch, perhaps a family gathering is in order?” Sannan suggested.
Sastal sniffed. “Your uncles would not visit Port Besaar if they were awarded a hundred gold tokens for coming. The durians are better in the main city, they say. Absolute nonsense!”
“That is quite a shame,” Tuahn added. “It has been decades since Jasar and I last fished together. I still distinctly remember the last fish we caught was this small, pathetic sickleback.”
Sastal suddenly had her attention directed to her grandson, who was making his way to his room.
“You’re going in to fix that horrible contraption again, Sannan? It is a pirate’s weapon, for goodness sake!” She shook her head in frustration. “If you want to tinker with something there are plenty of other alternatives to choose from. How many times must I repeat myself?” Tuahn had his mouth open to say more, but promptly snapped it shut and went to fetch a bottle of rum from the shelf.
It was always a topic Sannan hoped his grandmother would ignore each time he came back home. He made it an effort not to disclose how he actually came to possess the cannon in the first place.
“I promise to sell the cannon at the trading post once I have it repaired,” Sannan said. “It’ll make us a ton of tokens, promise!”
Sastal sniffed. “Have it your way. But I want that thing gone by the end of the week.” With that, she stalked back into the kitchen and slammed the door behind her. It was a miracle the old kitchen door still held on to its hinges after all its years of abuse. In response, Sannan let out a sigh. All the more reason for that smuggler to keep his word.
Cluttered and full of contraptions, anyone who entered Sannan’s room likely would not make it a few steps without tripping over something, whether it be boxes of tools or a cobbled together construct. Some resembled replicas of the automaton witnessed from the High City, others abandoned projects from a bygone time. A fish trapper resembling a shark, or a mechanical glider from the days where the young engineer dreamed of soaring the skies. Light shone through a lone window overlooking an alleyway, though Sannan longed for a view of the ocean. The calm waters would always help clear his mind when he reached a roadblock with one of his projects.
Now, the only item in the room that held his attention was a hefty, two handed cannon modified to be carried around without causing excessive fatigue. To its side lay a set of steel rounds to be loaded into the weapon, explosive though diffused. Although the appointed meeting with the smuggler was still days away, Sannan could not help but quiver from excitement, or was it fear? This is it. This is the weapon that will accompany me on my excursion.
Since the time he met Emra, a planned excursion to the High City was inevitable. The only issue was whether the smuggler could be trusted, though he also knew he would miss his family. Even now he struggled to formulate what to say on the letter he planned to leave behind for them. Sannan forced the thoughts out of his head, concentrating on the one major persisting issue with the pirate cannon. Slits within the back of the weapon glowed with the power of the Lumix core. Even to this day, Sannan could not fathom how he was to engineer the weapon to be compatible with the core. Two of his abandoned projects lay charred and rusting because the strength of the core had been too much. It almost seemed to have a will of its own, enhancing the scrap gauntlet but leaving A102 a burnt husk of its former self. Sannan still remembered the raw ecstasy he felt when the gauntlet well…came to life was the best way to put it. Tendrils of ether flowed through the thing, and one punch with it equipped was enough to shatter layers of brick. All of it boiled down to trial and error, and it frustrated Sannan to no end. The situation with the Lumix core felt like a mosaic puzzle, and he was most definitely missing a critical piece. What I would do to be able to speak with Emra again…
Day and night was spent pondering over what questions he would ask her if he ever saw her again. Hours passed, and at the end of it all Sannan turned to A104 – the rudimentary automaton near complete though headless.
“Just you wait, Khanrea,” he whispered, “one day I will have you outfitted with a Lumix core, and with you by my side there is no telling what technological breakthroughs we shall witness together!”