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Uicha de Orak, Wildcard of the 5th Renown, representing The Forgotten One, has everyone’s attention
Akoni de Emasyn, Captain of the Dartmyth, and his crew, commandeered by champions
Curse de Mou, Ocean Master of the 9th Renown, the Flamingo Islands, knows a score when he sees one
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8 Trollove, 61 AW
Aboard the Dartmyth, Central Sea
142 days until the next Granting
Slowly, Akoni turned to look at Uicha, who tried his best to maintain steady eye contact, even as he felt Sheppa take a subtle step away from him. Meanwhile, Curse stayed behind the captain, tilting his head back-and-forth, as if to shake water out of his ears. The way the Flamingo champion eyed him—like Battar Crodd, like Ahmed Roh—made Uicha feel like a butterfly with pins in its wings.
“How does he know your name?” Akoni asked.
Uicha let his eyes widen innocently. “How should I know?”
“Man, they talk about this boy like he a legend,” Curse said. “Don't look like much to me, but I bet you he hiding Ink under all them bandages. I bet you a boat, Akoni. This boat.”
“Burns,” Sheppa muttered. The ship’s healer turned to Akoni. “We all agreed that had to be a story, right?”
The idea that the crew of the Dartmyth had been humoring his lie about injuries made Uicha cringe inwardly. Sheppa and the others were now arrayed in a loose semi-circle around him and the captain. Uicha was relieved that some of them—like the navigator Chamberly—had their bodies turned more toward Curse, as if they might protect Uicha from the ragged champion.
Uicha wasn’t sure what to make of what Curse had said. Who was talking about him? Who was looking for him? The Magelab? The Orvesian Witnesses? Uicha didn't know enough to concoct a new lie. And anyway, he wasn’t some master fabulist. Mostly, he relied on being underestimated. The best thing to do would be to keep playing dumb.
“This doesn't make sense,” Uicha said, voice getting a little high, which wasn’t entirely an act. “I'm from Ambergran. I'm nobody. Who could be looking for me?”
“The dusties,” Curse answered. “They hear your name in the sand. An islander name. Me? I think they all poisoned from the sun, brains overbaked. But here you are, eh? A boy with the name that’s been haunting the dusties.”
Uicha wasn't sure what to say to that. He didn't know who Curse meant by ‘dusties.' Some southern nickname for the ash-covered Orvesians? Regardless, the Flamingo champion didn’t seem like the right person to be assessing anyone’s mental stability.
“He fetch us a good price,” Curse continued, tugging on Akoni's arm. “The dusties will bury us in rounds just to break bread with the boy.”
“I don't care about the Gen'bi,” Akoni said, snatching his arm away from Curse. “I want to know who I’ve been carrying on my ship.”
Uicha opened his mouth, then closed it. The Gen'bi? What did they have to do with anything? How did they know about him?
“Your color comes from their desert,” Kayenna Vezz said.
At the sound of her voice, Uicha flinched. The spirit of the Orvesian witch had mostly left him alone since he boarded the Dartmyth. Now, she leaned against the railing, her back to the rest of the crew, as if they weren't worthy of her interest. Uicha did his best not to look directly at her, or respond. She would intuit what he wanted to know.
“The chanic,” she continued. “If we wish to know more about our benefactor, perhaps it would be worth meeting with these Gen’bi. They have changed much since my time.”
Uicha remembered the crushing pain that served as his introduction to the Forgotten One, the entity whose strange mark he now wore. Some gods damned benefactor. He didn’t want to know more about that thing. It had been Kayenna’s influence that bound him to the creature and—
“Yes, yes, you would float aimlessly forever,” Kayenna snapped. “Pretending that you might become one of these people. But you know it is too late for that. Our time runs short and we are not prepared.”
“I just wanted to see home,” Uicha said aloud. The words were meant for Kayenna, but they softened Akoni’s expression.
“And you still can,” the captain said, taking a step forward. “What's beneath the bandages, little brother?”
Uicha blinked and Kayenna vanished. Once again, he was alone and yet surrounded. “You said there wouldn't be questions,” he said quietly.
“That was before I knew how heavy the answers could be,” Akoni replied gently. “Come, now. Are you not among friends?”
“Too gentle a touch, Akoni!” Curse shrieked. “You cup your hands and expect the fish to swim in, but what we need is the harpoon!”
And with that, Curse lunged around the captain. He was fast—his movements like water—and he had pulled Akoni’s scimitar from the captain’s hip before Akoni could even turn his way. Curse came at Uicha with an overhand slash, the blade aimed for Uicha’s collar.
Uicha did not have Curse’s [Speed+] or [Agility+]. Later, he’d have time to wonder how his [Swordplay+] would stack up against an opponent with enhanced physical ability—most opponents Uicha faced were already stronger and faster than him, but he had yet to face someone additionally boosted by Ink. In the moment, though, Uicha sensed that he wouldn’t be quick enough to get his sword loose. Instead, he raised a hand and activated [Ice Mastery].
A v-shaped shield of crystalline ice leapt from Uicha’s hand and caught Curse’s blade on the way down. The ice crackled around the sword, trapping it. When Uicha snapped his hand away, the weight of the ice block was enough to rip the weapon from Curse’s hand. Akoni and the rest of the crew shouted and scrambled backward at the display of magic, but Uicha was too focused on Curse to care about that.
The brine-stinking ocean master stumbled forward, weaponless now, and grabbed for Uicha’s face. A darkness radiated from his hand—not so different than the curls of rottenness that Uicha had seen wafting up from the Orvesian shoreline. Uicha leaned backward and, at the same time, pushed Curse away with his [Telekinesis].
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Just as when Uicha had tried to deflect Curse during his boarding of the Dartmyth, Uicha felt his ability get rebuffed. This time, he understood the source. Curse’s [Will+] prevented Uicha from exerting control over the man’s body or mind—he could intuit that just from glimpsing the tattoos that covered Curse’s chest. If he hadn’t been under attack, Uicha might have taken a moment to marvel at how the language of the gods so easily filled his mind.
Instead, Curse’s clammy hand clamped on the side of Uicha’s face, his calloused fingers curling into the hair at the back of Uicha’s neck. For a moment, Uicha’s knees weakened and black spots floated across his vision—Curse’s [Life Drain] pulling the vitality straight from him. But then, Uicha’s [Regeneration] kicked in, restoring his life force faster than Curse could steal it.
Curse’s eyes widened. He must have expected Uicha to drop straightaway—or at least show some reaction to his deathly touch.
“My,” Curse said, wiggling his bushy, silver-streaked eyebrows. “My, my, my.”
With a twist of his fingers, Uicha used [Telekinesis] to send the block of ice crashing into the back of Curse’s legs. Caught by surprise, Curse lost his grip on Uicha. He toppled backward, but recovered quickly, springing off one hand and landing on his feet. He shimmied like he was enjoying himself, the feathers decorating his caftan rustling in the wind.
“Enough!” Akoni shouted, interposing himself again into the space between Uicha and Curse. “This is my ship and you will both stand down!”
Pressed up against the railing, Uicha had barely moved since the encounter began, and he didn’t move now. Curse held up his hands.
“My point been made, eh?” he crowed. “That boy’s a champion! A tricky one, at that. All sorts of secrets hiding under them bandages.” Curse spun around, as if trying to orient himself. “We need to make haste now, captain! You got two champions on board and there’s Ink out in that ocean—Ink that the merchants and the dusties have a head start on. Where’s your navigator, hey?”
Chamberly timidly raised a hand.
“You! Good!” Curse darted to Chamberly and pulled him close. “Let me see your charts, man. I show you where we champions want to go. The Ink travels through a merchant channel. We can still catch them before it stops!”
Akoni paid Curse little attention as he steered Chamberly away. Instead, the captain’s eyes were on Uicha.
“We need to talk, little brother,” he said. “In my cabin.”
Uicha nodded.
Akoni glanced down at the deck. “Someone thaw out my sword, eh?”
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Uicha had visited the captain’s cabin on a few occasions during his time aboard the Dartmyth, mostly when one of Akoni’s lectures on seamanship ran long and the captain decided he wanted to have a smoke while teaching. The room was more spacious than Uicha’s cabin, but not vastly so. A hammock hung at one end, a table and benches built directly into the planks at the other. There were paintings decorating the walls, all of them depicting gray-skinned oca’em women in various states of undress, often sharing intimate moments with a man who looked suspiciously like Akoni. The burnt cherry smell of Akoni’s preferred leaf hung in the air.
The captain did not smoke now. Instead, he grabbed a knife from his table, cleaned the breakfast residue off on the side of his leg, and thrust it toward Uicha.
“Off with the bandages,” he ordered.
Uicha took the knife, but hesitated. Akoni plopped down on the bench and folded his arms.
“I got you out of Noyega because you seemed like a kid in trouble,” Akoni said, when Uicha made no move to remove his covering. “Now, I’m starting to think you hustled me.”
“It’s not like that,” Uicha said.
“Who’s your faction?” Akoni asked. “You said Ambergran up there. That the village you’re from?”
Uicha nodded.
“Never even heard of the place.”
“That doesn’t surprise me.”
“So, what? You a champion of some village and skipped town? You looking to take the wash? Because, I’m sorry, little brother, but this ship isn’t going that far east.”
“What’s the wash?”
Akoni stared at him in the same way he had when Uicha said he didn’t know how to tie a bowline. “You really are over your head, eh? Or else you’re the best actor I’ve ever met in my life.” He shook his head. “Inkwash. It’s a lake on the southern continent. The gods made it for champions to clean their symbols off.”
“Oh,” Uicha said. Unconsciously, his hand fluttered to his sternum. “I wonder if that would work.”
“You wonder—?” Akoni tapped his temple. “I thought the gods filled your heads with this stuff? Told you the rules.”
“It didn’t work like that for me.”
“How did it work, then?”
Uicha cleared his throat. Captain Akoni and the rest of the crew had been good to him so far, albeit when they thought he was nothing more than a fugitive. What would Akoni do if he refused to show him his Ink? Try to throw him overboard? Uicha couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t let that happen. The knowledge that he could fight off Akoni, his crew, and probably even the 9th renown champion lurking above—that he could make the Dartmyth his own, if he wanted—that thrilled and frightened Uicha. He didn’t want to hurt these people. Better to defuse the situation.
He set aside Akoni’s knife and dug around at his neck for where he’d tucked the end of the bandage. “I’m not going to cut them,” Uicha explained. “It’d be a waste. You’re going to want me to put them back on.”
Uicha made one revolution over his shoulder and under his armpit, then dropped the end of the bandage and did the rest with his [Telekinesis]. Easier that way, and he’d already had practice. Akoni’s eyes shone—like it was all a magician’s trick—until he caught the first glimpse of crimson on Uicha’s sternum. Then, Akoni sprang to his feet, his eyes darting about.
“You fool boy!” he shouted. “We got to clean that shit off you, quick as lightning!”
“It doesn’t come off,” Uicha said. He let the bandages drop, then dragged a thumb across his Ink in demonstration.
Akoni lunged forward to slap his hand away, relaxing only when he saw Uicha’s Ink didn’t smudge. “By the tides. Liar’s Ink,” the captain murmured. “We stole a bit of that off the merchants last year. Saw a man I knew try to give himself water-breathing. He fucked up the rune and his lungs jumped clean out his chest and hopped into the ocean.”
Uicha almost chuckled at the story, until he realized that Akoni wasn’t joking. “Seriously?”
“Not something to play with.” Akoni’s hand hovered by Uicha’s chest for a moment, and then he took a step back. “How’d this happen?”
“Mages,” Uicha said, without missing a beat. “Mages doing experiments on me.”
Akoni’s eyes widened. “And you escaped? That the truth?”
“The short version,” Uicha said.
“What can you do?” Akoni asked, staring at the red whorls that crossed Uicha’s chest and shoulders, unable to read the language of the gods. He made a box shape in the air with his finger. “What faction is that?”
For a moment, Uicha covered the empty box on his neck. “I don’t have one.”
“Everyone’s loyal to something, little brother.”
“Not me,” Uicha said. “When my parents died, I lost my Ink. I always hated that village and just wanted to see my true home. But the mages found me first. They made me like this.”
The lie practically told itself—anyway, it was almost true. He could instantly read the change in Akoni’s expression. In the space of an afternoon, Uicha had gone from the captain’s charity case protégé, to something frightening and unknowable, and now back to a desperate young man in need of help. Uicha sensed that he only needed to press a little more.
“I won’t be used, by the mages or anyone else. I’m still asking for help, captain,” Uicha said. “Na flamanga ‘e na emad.”
Akoni squared his shoulders. “You know, I am in line to be one of our champions. All the captains in the Blessed Fleet are.”
“No, I didn’t know that,” Uicha said.
“Will you go to the Granting because of this?” Akoni asked, studying Uicha’s Ink. “I can’t see you doing that. I can’t see myself doing that.”
“I don’t know how it will work,” Uicha said. The Ink on his chest felt warm at the mention of the Granting, and goosebumps rose on his shoulders in response. He wished he had a shirt and had to resist the urge to cross his arms over his chest. “I only know what’s been done to me, and that I don’t want to go back to the people who made me this way.”
Akoni nodded once. “You still have my protection, little brother. Unfortunately, that squid’s asshole Curse does have rights. It is my duty to help him, especially if there is Ink on the line. Fastest way to get rid of him is to give him what he wants.”
Uicha knew about the trials the gods made for their champions. The four champions of Ambergran had been off climbing some mountain when his parents fell ill, and thus the village’s healer had been unable to help. He didn’t know what effect new Ink would have on him—if any. After all, he wasn’t a sanctioned player in the gods’ game. But there was more of interest on the ocean than just Ink. Kayenna wasn’t wrong—he wasn’t prepared for what was to come. He needed more help than just the Dartmyth.
“Let’s go where he wants, then,” Uicha said. “And maybe, on the way, you can tell me about the Gen’bi.”
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