When Aldric came to pick Daveth up from the apothecary’s house where he’d been left to deal with the poisons from the giant wasps that’d ambushed them, he found the giant sitting astride the biggest horse he’d ever seen. It seemed proportioned to fit Daveth’s ridiculous size. Aldric immediately wanted to strangle the person that’d sold the man this horse; it was entirely too hilarious to see a giant riding a horse much too small for him.

“The fuck did you get that?” Aldric asked, and Daveth shrugged. “Paid for it.” He replied comfortably. He didn’t particularly feel it necessary to tell Aldric it was a golem, crafted from metals he wasn’t familiar with, and then, surprisingly, dressed in the flesh of his previous horse. It looked, acted, and behaved exactly like his previous horse, except that it was substantially larger, and much stronger, too. The bitter old woman had also told him that the horse could breathe fire, though he probably shouldn’t use that ability unless he wanted the flesh cooking off of it.

“Where we off to now?” Daveth asked, and Aldric combed his beard with his fingertips.

“Tannit, of course.” He complained bitterly. “Where else but Tannit? We need to rebuild the Seal.”

“Will it be the Eighth Seal from now on?” Daveth asked curiously.

“That’s a week in the stocks for you.” Aldric immediately replied sourly. “Non-negotiable.”

“Don’t fuck with me, Aldric. Why is it called the Seventh Seal?”

“Come on, man!” Aldric complained, and gestured with his pipe for Daveth to follow after him. As they rode, he continued, “If you haven’t figured it out now, you might never.” Aldric replied, and then added with a sly grin, “But keep working at it.”

“...so back to Einsamkeit?” Daveth offered as a change of subject. Aldric shook his head and straightened in his saddle, unconsciously trying to make himself seem taller to the giant.

“We’re going to Hitotsuna.”

“Hito-what?” Daveth asked, and Aldric twisted his face.

“A Yamato fishing village just off the edge of Einsamkeit.” He muttered sourly. “I hate the place, but it’ll do.”

“Why not Einsamkeit?” Daveth asked.

“...money.” Aldric muttered uncomfortably.

“We should have a sizable war chest, Aldric. Azsig-Noth, the ship, all of it.” Daveth argued.

Aldric shook his head. “Einsamkeit will gouge us. Remember, we’re shipping corpses. Plus there’s the consolation money for their families. They’re not called ‘The Merchant Cities’ without reason, Daveth.”

“I knew we should have kept that ship.” Daveth muttered.

“On that point, I’d disagree: we’d be blasted out of the water by Einsamkeit Port Authority for flying an unregistered banner on an obviously stolen Anglish warship.” Aldric replied. “No, selling it to that merchant was probably for the best, even if he is probably rotting in a prison somewhere, desperately trying to explain how he’d come into the possession of an Anglish warship that’d obviously been looted.”

Aldric grinned at Daveth, who snickered back. Aldric was born Anglish, but he’d definitely picked up the Merchant Cities unofficial motto of “Rook them before they rook you.”

“So how will we afford the trip to Tannit?” Daveth asked.

“We’ll sell one of the cannon to Einsamkeit. That’ll cover our trip up to Tannit and our recruiting fees.”

*****

The trip was largely without incident, except for the suspicious eye Aldric laid on Daveth when his horse broke the boom used to swing horses from ships to dry land because it was too heavy. It could have been suspicious, or it could have been an exasperated eye; the boom operator had to be mollified, and a replacement boom brought in, and that took money.

*****

For some reason that defied explanation, Alysia seemed to be everywhere Daveth looked as they sailed away from the port of Azsig-Noth and forged across the Sea of Mirras. When he came up on deck, Alysia would glare at him with her silvery eyes for just the length of an eyeblink, and then she was gone, moving further down the desk, away from him.

When they took meals as the boat fought the headwinds and heaved its way across the sea, Daveth would just be entering the mess hall and coincidentally bump into the irritable woman, who’d glare at him and step wide from him. The same would happen if he was coming up from the bunks, or down from the decks. Coincidentally she would be on the other side of the stairwell, glaring at him.

He honestly couldn’t tell if she was trying to provoke a confrontation, or to avoid him altogether. It seemed like both, simultaneously.

The normally more relaxed and sociable of the two silver-eyed sisters, Lynnabel, was instead extremely cool towards him, and would refuse to speak with him except on matters dealing with the Band and its disposition; a very short topic given the extremely battered state it was in.

Audra, picking up on the situation, seemed to delight in the strange, subtle exchange, and so she would appear as if by magic, coincidentally, to ask Daveth some inane question about which steel was the best for swords, or perhaps ask for advice on how to avoid getting scammed in the Merchant Cities when shopping for weapons, or if he had any inkling as to what Aldric would do once they arrived in Hitotsuna town.

*****

Aldric didn’t make the same mistake in Hitotsuna town, but he did give Daveth a fierce, hot glare that threatened all sorts of malicious treatments by the man.

They found a Yamato merchant who was making the run from Hitotsuna to Tannit, but it would be a week before he would sail. Daveth decided to escape the boat and explore the town. He was a fair hand at sailing, but over and above all other things, he very much preferred the feeling of solid ground beneath his feet.

The town was small, wedged as it was between an abrupt and sheer cliffside split by a waterfall to the north, the bay to the west with Einsamkeit just on the other side, and a tumble of small hills in the east that had been terraced for gardening, and the Sea of Mirras to the south.

The Yamato in the village alternated between being aghast, terrified, and in awe of his size, and unfailingly polite when it came to answering his questions. He towered over the tallest of them by at least two feet, and it seemed like his massive hands could easily crush the skulls of the unwary. In short, he was a curiosity, a spectacle, and they all crowded around him, chattering and gossiping away in their native tongue, no matter where it was he went.

That soured his mood, but instead of being rude, he simply picked the onlookers up, one by one, and set them aside gently so that he could duck and shuffle inside the local inn, where he became a one-man devastation to the businesses’ food supply.

Lynnabel found him shortly after. Strangely, she didn’t receive nearly the amount of awe and amusement that Daveth got, despite the obvious strangeness of her silver eyes and hair.

She sat across from Daveth and eyed the apocalyptic remains of his meal.

“You certainly have an... appetite, Lord Commander.” She observed carefully.

Daveth picked at his teeth with a fishbone, and nodded. “We don’t often get to eat well in the field, you know. I try to eat as much as I can whenever I get the chance.” He gestured at the discarded bits of food. “Besides, it’s good... and I’m not a Lord.” he added as an afterthought.

She nodded noncommittally, and called for tea. Daveth bellowed for the entire pot to be brought, at which point Lynnabel covered her ears as he shouted.

“Would that be considered rude, Lord Commander?” She asked him, but he shook his head.

“Have you seen the size of their teapots?” He asked with an amazed tone. “A pot’ll do for a cup, for me.” He paused, and added again, “and I’m no Lord.” All of the Wolf Sisters were like that. Whomever was in command, they would address as Lord. It made no difference to Aldric, who seemed used to the appellation, but Daveth himself refused it at every turn, which seemed to frustrate the women that hailed from the mysterious ‘Order of the Wolf’.

“...As you say.” Lynnabel surrendered, raising her hands in an open, palm out display.

“Food?” He offered, and she again raised her hands. “Certainly not, Lord Commander. It would be inappropriate for me, and insulting to another.”

Daveth’s eyes narrowed in thought at this, but they lit up a moment later when one of the innkeeper’s daughters brought over the pot of tea for Daveth. He picked the entire thing up and gulped down its contents while the waitress stood aghast; she’d meant to pour Lynnabel’s share first.

Daveth absentmindedly wiped his mouth and passed the empty pot back, and politely asked for another. The woman bowed, shot an apologetic look at Lynnabel, and dashed off.

“You’re talking about Alysia, aren’t you?” Daveth asked shortly.

Lynnabel’s mouth twisted. Did he have no sense of tact? Discretion? Propriety?

“Didn’t Aurene teach you anything about us, Lord Commander?” She blurted thoughtlessly, and then covered her mouth.

He sighed, and tossed the fragment of fishbone to one of the plates arrayed in front of him.

“First, I’m no Lord.” He emphasized dangerously. “Secondly, Aurene was as much close-mouthed about your order as you are, so all I’ve been able to glean is that it’s complicated, complex, and incomprehensible.” he growled.

Lynnabel let out a defeated sigh, but brightened a little when she spied the young woman approaching with the tea.

“It is inappropriate for her to speak with you outside the context of our obligation as soldiers in your army.” Lynnabel offered. “To do so would violate the rules, boundaries and codes of professionalism, honor, and courtesy.”

Daveth, idly reaching behind himself to take the teapot from the young woman that approached him from his blind side so that she could pour for Lynnabel, responded,

“Our outfit isn’t bound by that... sort of doctrine.” He replied, and surprised Lynnabel by reaching across his table and pouring for her, before once again drinking from the pot directly.

Lynnabel glared at him. “But we are, Lord Commander.” She emphasised, clearly delineating the difference between her, her sister, and the rest of the Seal.

She didn’t touch the teacup that he’d poured for her. To do so would be rude to her sister, taking something from his hands.

A young woman with a sword loosely gripped in her hand, dressed in the traditional red hakama and robes of the yamato Shrine Maidens stepped into the inn, and gave the giant a careful, scrutinizing glance.

“I had heard that there was a disturbance in town.” She spoke Anglish with the slurred accent of the Yamato.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“And now you’ve found him, enjoying a meal.” Daveth replied casually, reclining in his seat that groaned and creaked warningly whenever he adjusted his position. “When our ship leaves for the north, I’ll be on my way.” He gestured to the remains of the food arrayed before him. “Food?”

She eyed him carefully.

“A man of your... size... could be considered a danger. Not just to the town, but to himself, as well.” She warned. “Please be careful not to damage anything carelessly.” She advised.

He nodded at that. “I intend to. Is there a Shrine nearby?” He asked curiously. Her head came up at that, and she eyed him coolly.

“What value is there in someone like you asking such a question?” She asked, her hand gripping her sword tightly enough that the wooden scabbard creaked.

“Curiosity, of course.” Daveth replied casually. “I have never seen a Shrine. It might be nice to see one, before I die.”

Her eyes widened at that proclamation, and Lynnabel gave him a baffled look.

“Before you... die. You say.” The woman repeated. Daveth nodded, and pushed himself to his feet. There was an alarming crack from the seat beneath him, and the table groaned under his weight as he rose to his feet and towered over the woman, who gulped several times nervously, and reached for the hilt of her sword several times, as if uncertain whether or not she should draw, whether or not her blade would even be useful against the giant.

“I’m a mercenary.” He offered, with a slight bow and a smirk. “I could die at any time. I’ve heard that Yamato Shrines are things of rare beauty.”

“Th-they certainly are... tranquil.” The girl stammered.

“Would it be impolite for me to ask you to escort me?” He asked, and Lynnabel glanced from the cup of tea she wasn’t supposed to take, her Lord Commander, the Yamato girl that was in terrified awe of his size, and the door.

To whom should she report? What should be said? How should it be said? Should she go directly to the Lord Captain, to apprise him of Daveth’s whereabouts? To Alysia? Should she follow him? Would that be appropriate? How could she ask the lady for tea, if there were already a cup before her?

She struggled with these rapidly multiplying questions as Daveth disappeared out of the inn, following after the Shrine Maiden.

*****

Daveth appraised the long, long, long flight of stairs that towered before him, and made a sour face.

To the left and right of the staircase leading up to the shrine were massive boulders, wrapped in thick ropes with paper charms dangling from them. The stairway was gated by an enormous wooden edifice that was painted a brilliant and eye-catching red.

“This is the gate to Araya-jinja, my Lord.” The young Shrine Maiden informed him.

“I’m no lord.” Daveth replied indifferently. “What does Araya-jinja signify?” he asked his guide.

She paused in thought. “A jinja is a Shrine. It was named in honor of one of our greatest seers, Hasegawa Araya. Before the War of Liberation, she led the Yamato from Aston, a city far to the northwest, shortly before the Urthan invaded, and came here, to this place. Her foresight was formidable, my Lord. She saved many lives.” the young Shrine Maiden explained, a touch of reverence in her voice.

“Huh.” He replied. He couldn’t think of anything else to say. If someone had the foresight to move an entire city of Yamato across the continent of Hesperia and down to its southern coast, far, far away from the inevitable depredations of the Urthan, then they were certainly formidable.

“So you’re saying that this Shrine is the first Yamato Shrine in Hesperia?” He asked curiously.

She shook her head. “One of the oldest, certainly the only one to survive the War of Liberation.” She corrected. “Both the Anglish and the Urthan destroyed many Shrines during the War of Liberation, the Second Subjugation of Yamato, and the War of the Eastern Marches.”

“You seem to know a lot.” He offered, and the young woman nodded. “It’s our responsibility to remember and study what we have learned.”

“So you have records that predate the War of Liberation?” He asked curiously, earning him a sharp glance.

“A few.” She replied ambiguously. “Come, I will lead you to the Shrine.”

*****

The stairs were exhausting and seemed without end. Every few hundred paces, a boulder was paired up with a matching one on either side of the steps, followed by a gate that grew progressively darker in red until, at the summit, the gate itself was pitch black.

There were other Shrine Maidens with short white robes and red hakama; there were others with black hakama, and watching over them all, three wearing a lengthy black robe over their white, and wearing black hakama. The three that were all in black seemed very old. All of them carried weapons. In some nearby training yard, Daveth could hear the sound of training, the unmistakable bark of orders being shouted.

The temple buildings themselves were impressive and seemed to be built for solidity rather than beauty.

One of the women wearing a black coat approached Daveth.

“Afternoon, stranger.” She greeted, not impolitely.

“It probably is.” Daveth agreed, arming sweat from his brow. “That’s certainly an... intimidating amount of steps.” He gasped, and gestured with his thumb over his shoulder.

The woman smiled at that, and then snorted. “I remember running up and down it a great many times in my youth.” She remarked with a touch of pride in her voice. “But what brings you to Araya’s Shrine?” She asked curiously.

“Curiosity.” He replied simply. “Also, it stops me from being a curiosity in the town below,” he added.

The woman sized him up and nodded. “I can imagine.” She paused in thought. “I will allow you permission to walk the grounds if you like, but I ask that you do not speak with the acolytes or interfere with their responsibilities.”

Daveth gestured about him, to the groups of various women, all of whom had stopped doing whatever it was they had been doing. Coincidentally, they were all armed.

“How should I tell which from which?” He asked the older woman, who glanced behind her. Her shoulders shook with laughter.

“The acolytes wear red. The Maidens wear black.” She tugged on the long black coat she wore, revealing the white robe and black hakama pants underneath. “A black coat indicates a Priestess. If you have specific questions, you should direct them to one of the priestesses.”

Daveth glanced at the girl that had escorted him to the temple. “You hear that? I shouldn’t have spoken to you. We’ve broken the rules already.” He offered conspiratorially. She gave him an angry frown and stomped off.

“Well, I have you here; I might as well ask you what you all do here.”

The woman smiled diplomatically and folded her hands into her sleeves. “Broadly speaking, we curate history, we attempt to divine the future, we purify, and when we are called to fight, we do so.”

Daveth raised an eyebrow. “Purify?” He asked, and the woman sighed.

“You are aware of the toxic nature of magic, yes? How it eats into the body, mind and soul of the wielder? We strive to purge the toxic element of magic within the area of our shrines.” she explained. “Incidentally, ‘purification’ also encapsulates ‘healing’. Those that are sick, or poisoned, possessed, or weak of heart come to us, and through ritual they are cleansed of their infirmities.”

He gestured. “All of you can do that?” He asked, sounding impressed. She shook her head. “Not all. The acolytes, for instance, train in their strengths. The Maidens, their weaknesses. The Priestesses...” She trailed off and gave him an ambiguous smile.

“Any wish to join up with my band?” He offered, and she gave him a baffled look.

“The Seventh Seal.” He explained patiently. She immediately shook her head. “We are not mercenaries, my Lord.”

“I’m not a Lord.” He complained. “Why doesn’t anyone understand that?” He spat a curse in a language the woman didn’t recognize.

“What... What language was that?” The woman asked him suspiciously.

He did a double take and frowned, and tried to think back. “Dunno.” He gave her a shrug. “You pick things up and forget where they come from.”

The Priestess sighed. “I’ll forgive the lie, this time. For politeness’ sake, if nothing else.” She suddenly brightened. “However, if you’d like to volunteer to be purified from your lying tongue, I’m certain we would be happy to accommodate you.” She clapped her hands together as she said this.

He gave her a frown. “I don’t think I’d enjoy that.”

“I’m certain you would not.” She replied, despite obviously relishing the attempt in her mind.

“What would the normal protocol be for someone to come to the Shrine for a visit?” He asked.

“Protocol?” The Priestess asked, sliding him a sly look. “A rather large word from you.”

“‘Spose.” He replied.

She barked a laugh. “The accepted protocol would be to offer a small donation; make your prayers known, be they luck in battle, a strong harvest, a healthy body, a safe birthing, a cleansing, a divination, whatever, and then you would be escorted back to town.”

Daveth nodded.

“The Seventh Seal went through... an ordeal.” he explained, and fished in one of his pouches for a handful of coins. “Two hundred men, women, and elves marched into the desert, and...” He stopped, and bit his lip, and shook his head as if trying to banish the memories, “only thirty-eight returned.”

“A horrible experience, to be certain.” The woman offered, touching his arm comfortingly. The legitimate genuine nature of this gesture, the honest condolences in her words touched him.

“We’re heading to Tannit.” He choked out around the tears that threatened. “Resupply. Grow our numbers. Send their corpses home.” She nodded, hand still on his arm.

“You said you could purify. Pray. Do you think you could pray over our dead?” He asked, his voice thick. “Many died meaningless, empty deaths, likely thinking they were abandoned. They deserve to know that they’re remembered.”

She smiled. “We have those available that can purify the bodies for burial- or burning, if that is your preferred method.” She remarked comfortingly.

She guided him over to the offertory box, instructed him how to deposit his money, he grabbed the prayer rope and swung it, causing some previously unnoticed bells at the top of the rope to jingle.

A young girl, obviously not Yamato, with blonde hair and golden eyes with cat-slit pupils stepped out from the temple as he did so.

She eyed him up and down, unafraid despite his massive size.

Immediately, all three priestesses moved to put themselves between the girl and Daveth.

“The Son of Battles’ prayer was heard.” The blonde girl stated firmly, and made shoo’ing gestures at them. “See to his wishes. Purify his dead.” She paused, “Though why didn't you think to offer him to purify his heart of the burden he bears...” She growled at them.

She moved around the coin box, the priestesses silently encouraging him to bow before this girl with gestures.

“Oi. Human. I cannot speak to you with you so high.” She commanded imperiously. “It’s offensive to me that you should come to me taller than myself.”

Daveth eyed her carefully, and then leaned down and pickled her up. A collective wave of gasps and cries of shock and horror washed over the women like a wave.

“I had not expected-” The girl began, but cut herself off. “You are very tall.” She remarked in his grip.

“I suppose I am.” He replied.

“Hug.” The girl stated flatly, holding out her arms stiffly.

“What?” He asked, baffled.

“Hug me.” She commanded. Daveth glanced over at the Shrine Priestesses and Maidens and acolytes, and they all shook their heads emphatically.

No.

He hugged her anyway.

“You wish to be purified of the burden you carry in your heart?” The girl whispered in his ear. “A wish easily granted. Throw away your sword and seek sanctuary here. I will purify you myself.”

He pulled back from the hug. “Leave the Seal?” he asked, and she nodded at him.

“That is one form of salvation, yes.” she affirmed.

“I can’t.” He immediately replied. The Seal went where it was needed- by boat, by horse, on foot, but he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t imagine a different life for himself. There was always a new land, a different adventure, comrades sharing stories and curses and ale in the firelight. Prayers for the dead, Blessings of life for the living.

He would remember those that fell in battle, and when it came his time to fall, they in turn would remember him.

She gave him a complicated frown, as if she’d read his mind.

“Put me down, child of man.” She commanded, and he set her back on the ground. She put a tiny hand over her heart. “Ahhhh, to feel the ground beneath my feet again!” she exclaimed, and looked up at him.

“Your story is not yet finished, nor you finished with it.” She pointed at the gate, a clear dismissal if there ever was one. “The Temple will see to your dead.”

*****

“Daveth.” Aldric greeted him when Daveth returned to the inn. He spotted Jonan drinking in the corner, Alysia and Lynnabel were seated by the hearth, heads close together in conspiracy as they tore apart the roasted carcass of some bird, likely a chicken. Audra eyed him from her seat near the captain.

“Come join us.” She waved.

“You got some ‘splainin’ ta do, Daveth.” Aldric growled at him. “You’re supposed to be in stocks for a week, remember?”

Daveth gave him a puzzled look. “The fuck for?”

“You know.” Aldric repliedwith an indifferent gesture. “But before that, I’d like for you to explain to me how you managed to convince a Yamato Shrine to tend to our dead for us.”

Daveth gave him a smile. “I asked them nicely.”

Aldric frowned. “You don’t get a fucking Yamato Shrine to perform Ceremonies for the Dead by asking, Daveth. They don’t fuck around, and they’re just as tightfisted and miserly as the rest of them. They make the Merchant Council of Einsamkeit look as fucking generous as an Anglish Saint.”

Daveth sat down on the offered seat which creaked and groaned alarmingly under his weight.

“You’re right. I didn’t just ask. I gave one of them a hug.”

Aldric rolled his eyes at this sally. “Sure you did, and I bet you tickled her chin and gave her a pinch, too.” He added sarcastically.

Daveth shrugged, and dragged one of the roasted birds to his side of the table.

“You fucker, that’s mine-”Aldric began, trying to snatch the bird back. Daveth lifted it out of Aldric's reach.

“Mine by right of conquest.” Daveth replied, and tore it in half with his bare hands. He offered part of it to his captain. “Share?”

“Asshole.” Aldric grumbled.

Yep. Right where he belonged.