> Spiritbloom Smoke. Translucent flowers that arise from graves and temples, but when smoked creates an opaque black smoke which, if inhaled, forcibly opens the Third Eye just a bit.

>

> From The Treatise On The Supranatural

Trasan was no elderly man, nor were they a muscular man that would've been the symbol of kingship and knighthood. No, they were a sickly stick of a man. Eyes hollow into the pits that were their eyes. His limbs were thin like sabers, his hands were overlong, his pitch black hair falling to the small of his back, bound back by an intricate, triple-layered headcloth colored bright red. He did still look like he'd had some years on him. Raxri couldn't exactly pinpoint his age, though he definitely felt like around the age of 40 years. Life expectancy in the Utter Islands as of the year 11,664 was around 65.

He wore a long robe that wrapped around him. He wore a bahag and gold jewelry to make up for the lack of his muscles. His skin was deathly pale. He looked like death, but when his eyes fell upon Raxri, Akazha, Sintra, and Ampalila, the four of them knew that this was a man whose power burned unbridled and blazing underneath the veneer of their sickly looking facade.

His eyes fulminated bright purple.

The noble ladies walked up to the end of the carpet, a good distance away from the throne platform, and then performed the triple reverences before bowing and prostrating once, and then walking to his side. They each sat on opposite sides of him, upon seats reserved for him. No doubt they were his wives. Or perhaps, concubines? It was hard to tell the difference for a royal.

The group followed suit, performing the same triple reverence and required prostration.

A silence followed as High Chief Trasan watched them. Raxri resisted the urge to squirm. Don't let your tail turn into your bahag now. Instead, Raxri looked straight on. Somehow they felt as though looking at the High Chief straight in the eye would have been a grave offense.

Raxri was right, of course. High Chief Trasan's voice bellowed out: "Who is the one that assaulted my Port Chief?" A command, not an inquiry.

Akazha glanced sideways at Ampalila, who nodded imperceptibly. She glanced sideways at Raxri, who was now staring at the floor as if trying to remember something.

Akazha said: "It was this lowly servant, great lord." She pertained to herself. Of course, as one probably has noticed by now, but referring to one's self in the first person when talking to someone of higher social class was a faux pas. Though that has laxed now, now that aristocrats are mostly seen as a symbol of a brutish past. Of course, in the end of the world, cruelty reigned.

"Hm." High Chief Trasan put his elbow upon the wood hand rest of his throne and leaned rested his head against his fist. "So a mere woman was able to beat my Port Chief in a duel? What have you to defend yourself."

"I pray the High Chief grants his lowly servant a chance to explain my side. I was seeking labor to earn wages so that we may pay off a debt. Your servant was asking in completely good faith, but the great lord's port chief engaged in distasteful manners in front of a woman and this ignited your servant's ire."

"What manner of things did he say, particularly?"

"His movements and speech suggested that your servant should gain her wages by selling her body for sexual gratification."

An uncomfortable silence followed. Raxri felt anger arising from them, but did not move. Don't make a move. You'll fuck it up. For sure. All of them aside from Akazha were still bowed, squatting down, making sure not to meet the eyes of the High Chief.

The High Chief Trasan said: "A deplorable act, I suppose. But that does not justify violence. If we wield the weapon of perspective, it is only pragmatic to use one's body to gain wages. It is all labor, after all, would you not say?"

"Forgive me High Chief, and I say this with all due respect. This lowly servant understands that it is impossible for some not to wield such ways, but such an industry arises from the insatiable sexual appetites of men. Sexual appetites that are only spurred on by their fellow man. To perform sex work should be the choice of an autonomous individual, not the choice of one enslaved to money. I should not have to fuck to be considered alive."

High Chief Trasan leaned forward, interested. The two women looked at each other uncomfortably. Raxri could feel burning ire arise from their heart, but they tempered it with logic and reasoning and, somehow, compassion. What a poor, misguided guy this one is, they thought. "So what do we propose we do, to be able to get past such a problem?"

Akazha continued, her tone unchanged. It sounds as if she has done this multiple times before, in the past. "With all due respect, High Chief, it will require at best complete societal upheaval. A change in cultural attitude. The recognition of the inferior genders as human and not object."

"Ha!" The laugh was a thrilled one, though it was still a bark. "You are a queer one. What is your name?"

"Akazha Han Narakdag, High Chief."

"You bear a perspective that monks and students of the universities might share. But remember where you are!" His voice suddenly erupted in anger, and then when he spoke the next few words his voice returned to the normal speaking cadence as if no anger had passed. "You are in the end of the world. Here, not just women, but men too are turned into objects. Men too are made to work sexual labor. Equality is therefore achieved, wouldn't you agree?"

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Not as much as women, Akazha wished to bark back, but she knew it would be better if she held her tongue. Especially for right now. O wrathful Kroma Nagmi, hold my tongue with your scornful blade. She gave Ampalila a sideways glance again, and Ampalila gave her a smile.

"Unforrtunately, you are to be killed, according to the edicts of the law." High Chief Trasan leaned back. He spat out a betel globule that he had been chewing on for the past few dayparts. "Women like you... you must be put back into your place, you see? You think you can do everything a man does, but you cannot. You are weaker, your bones are frailer, you are shorter, and you are slimmer. You must bear a child and every month you bleed for not doing so. It is simply the Will of the Ancestors that you are to be subjugated by the stronger."

Akazha set her jaw. She did not say anything. She was used to these words, unfortunately. She repeated the mantra: O HRI KROMA NAGMI IWA.

Raxri's knuckles were fire-white from the anger.

"However," continued the High Chief. Everyone listened. Even the gods seemed to silence, after such a proclamation. "I have been told by the great Prime Minister that you are a student of the Ultramystic Sutasoma of Blacklight Town?"

Akazha nodded. Anger filled her to the point of tears. She held them back. Repeat the mantra. O wrathful Kroma Nagmi, bless me with anger that surpasses all anger.

"Then I will not risk angering the great mahasiddha. Instead of death, a trial by fire... if you're willing to undertake it? Of course, if you die performing this duty, then it will not be my fault. But let it not be said that High Chief Trasan of Imos was not merciful against the womanly race!"

Raxri blinked. They did not know if they felt like laughing or if they felt somewhat disgusted. They were leaning toward the former. This High Chief Trasan was not as intimidating as they thought they would be. Their eccentricity shone through with every word.

Raxri looked without turning their face to Akazha. They saw that they were similarly blinking, in the "is this really happening, did he really just say that" kind of way.

She said: "Of course, High Chief. You have given your servants a great boon by doing this. Your mercy overflows."

"Thank my prime minister, for he has spoken to me upon a peculiar problem we have been having." He stretched for a moment, leaving the gang up in the air for a tense second. Sintra Kennin was immaculately keeping quiet, serenity stored within their heart for the longest time. Is this the might of a firstborn of a god? "Now, aren't you curious as to what the problem is?"

"Your servants are fully questioning, excellency. We will no doubt be eager to take upon this task for the glory of the High Chief," said Akazha. For a moment, doubt and wondering arose within Raxri. Why does Akazha speak this so well? She knows every single thing to say to someone of royalty!

Raxri attributed this doubt to just a deficiency in their own ability to speak to royalty, with a twinge of jealousy. She has honed her ability to plead.

"Good! Now. A specter haunts all of Imos Town, you see. Every night, upon the arrival of hallowed Midnight, a wraith of a woman attacks a random house within the port town. We do not know why, for none of our exorcists have been able to find her or speak with her. Most of our exorcists and even our head shaman refuses to speak to her. Their fear is overwhelming. This wraith has caused so much of our commerce to fail! This cannot be, the future of Pemi Island and the Nunuk League--" he grimaced as he said the League's name. Raxri caught it; so did Akazha, "--rests upon the flow of trade from the international to the inland. I need you to find this white wraith and to find out why she haunts, and why she clings. Then you must remove her, find a way to rid our saintly town of Imos of this Horror. Will you take this responsibility?"

Akazha bowed low. Raxri looked sideways at Sintra Kennin. He was already looking at them, eyes wide. Was this the same ghost that haunted me and chased after me last night...?

"It just so happens that your servants have some experience in dealing with spirits and ghosts. Though we are not sure exorcists nor shamans, we will do our best. Your servants will not let you down."

"I'm glad ot hear it. If you require any materiel or lore, reach out to my prime minister and we will see what we can do. I pray that you can do this before you have to go out to Blacklight Town and meet your master Sutasoma?"

Akazha swallowed. She said: "Yes, of course."

"Speaking of Sutasoma!" The High Chief leaned on his other hand now. He sat very relaxedly. "The great ultramystic is one of great power, and in truth if she focused on it she could begin her very own commune. But she does not! Instead, she stays holed up in Blacklight Town, a relatively backwater community. On top of performing the exorcist task for me, if you wish to be freed of the death penalty that you deserve, I demand an audience with the great Ultramystic."

Akazha sighed. Raxri bit their lip. "Of course. As you wish, High Chief."

"Good. Go! You are free. May the world know your name."

Akazha muttered in response, inaudible to the great High Chief: "I would pray not."

The group was left to fend for their own after the meeting. Even the prime minister did not meet them again. Standing in front of the high chief's longhouse, throngs of people needing arbitration and civil services were lined up in front of the high chief's gates even at this time. The sun was sinking into the horizon.

"Come," said Captain Ampalila. She pinched the bridge of her nose. A migraine slowly grew behind her eyes. "We should get something to eat while we talk things out."

Sintra Kennin nodded. "I agree. We already have a potential lead about the ghost."

Raxri approached Akazha, and placed a hand gingerly on theirs. Was this a faux pas as well? They couldn't pin down if it was or not. But Akazha did not pull away, and so they ascertained it to be fine. It felt like a natural movement to comfort someone. "I pray that you are all right."

Akazha shrugged. "Worry not. I've gotten accustomed to such things. I have no choice, after all. But I will never not fight back. Keep this in mind." Even if it will bring us into further havoc, was the thing Raxri knew Akazha wished to append.

Instead, all Raxri did was nod. "Of course. I will be on your side whenever it happens," said Raxri. "No prejudice must survive the flensing blade of Compassion."

Akazha smirked at that. Their eyes met for a moment, then she rolled hers. "Let's get going. Keep moving forward so that we don't sink. I can't believe you're going soft for me."

"Right." Raxri blinked. "N-no, it's not about softness--" But Akazha was already returning to the rest of the group.

"Sintra Kennin is right," she said, talking to Ampalila. "We should check our potential leads. It will be difficult though. Looking for a ghost that haunts the entirety of the port town instead of just a small locus or small portion of it." Akazha let out an exasperated sigh. "If I could have some

alcohol right now..."

Sintra Kennin offered a comforting smile. "Nothing ever worth doing was easy."

"And let's save the alcohol for afterwards," barked Ampalila, ruffling Akazha's hair. "Come on. Let's get some fried rice."