19 Tagsibol, 891 ED

Buwan, 20:35

Milagre, Empire of Tyrman

“It can’t be a coincidence.”

It was several hours. Gogo and I, after being released from the guards, had lingered in the markets long enough to get some food from one of the many market stalls that sold excellent fare. Food from all around the world was represented here, as well as many new types of food that were being developed here in Milagre. The food vendors of the Market were masters of their craft, competing mercilessly with each other to draw in new customers, develop new recipes, and advance their respective businesses.

Gogo had particularly enjoyed one stall that deep-fried various types of meat and had purchased a heaping plateful of greasy food. For myself, I’d found a chef preparing an excellent variety of sandwiches. I purchased one that was essentially a hot reuben sandwich and enjoyed it with a flask of some sour drink that tasted like lemonade mixed with strawberry. They were both foods enjoyed on the way, though we’d spent almost half an hour on one of the many tables in the food court.

Now we’d made our way to the Issho-Ni complex on the other side of the city. While the property was technically owned by Issho-Ni, the independent organization that hunted nefarious criminals the world over, they allowed any warriors to train inside their fields, provided they used training weapons and agreed to follow the rules. It cost us nothing and we were given a chance to get back into shape after a long trip on a boat, but my main reason for coming was to see the many fighting men and women of Milagre with my own eyes.

Nearly every other organization was represented by the people I saw. General military members, cadets of the Guards Guild, new recruits, and even Issho-Ni apprentices were visible. They either trained themselves or performed strict exercises overseen by an experienced warrior, who corrected their mistakes. I knew that, for a sizable but reasonable fee, you could be taught by one of the Masters of Issho-Ni in a variety of fighting techniques.

Nor was it exclusively warriors present on the field. In the past two hundred years or so, magic had been incorporated smoothly into Issho-Ni’s repertoire. They, in turn, used this mastery and experience of the arcane arts to teach others. All around, I saw mages struggling to keep up with progressively advanced techniques while figures in white and gold robes watched their efforts with a keen eye.

Gogo, who was now holding a perfect replica of his long spear and shield, though made entirely of wood, paused at my words and took a step back, his head tilted to one side. It was yet another very animalistic trait, I thought, and I found myself wondering yet again where the line between beast and human lay.

“What are you on about now?” He asked, frowning slightly. It wasn’t the first time that our sparring match had been interrupted by one of my thoughts. I had been very distracted all day since the attack and hadn’t been giving our duel the appropriate attention. In fact, I had several new bruises that attested to the fact.

“The attack,” I said as if that was all the answer he needed. But when he continued to look confused, I realized it wasn’t. “You know, just today, when I was shot full of arrows and nearly died?”

“Oh,” Gogo replied, understanding dawning on his face. “That. What about it?

“Well, it can’t be a coincidence,” I repeated. “Just last night we beat three members of the Thieve’s Guild in a fight and sent one running off.”

“I remember. I was there as well.”

“Right. And then today, we get an assassin sent after us? It can’t be a coincidence.”

Gogo appeared to consider that in silence for a bit, working his way through it. Then, with a slight shrug, he said, “Do we really have time to be thinking about that?”

“What do you mean?” I was a little offended by his complete disinterest in the topic. As I’d mentioned, the archer had nearly killed me, and even Gogo had been wounded in the fight. I’d expected his interest in investigating the cause of the attack to be higher.

“After Temple Day, the Mage’s College is taking new applicants for their next term,” Gogo pointed out. “We’ve already agreed that we’re going to be entering the school.”

“True,” I agreed reluctantly. “But aren’t you at all interested in finding out why they were sent to kill us?”

“Who says that anyone sent them? They could just as easily have been an independent duo that decided to attack us.”

“In the middle of a packed market?” I asked, my eyebrows raised in surprise at his naivety. “Nobody else got hit by that archer’s arrows. They singled me out until you came along and proved yourself an ally.”

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Gogo replied with one of his usual disinterested shrugs, and inspected the sleeve of his red coat, fiddling with a stray thread there. For my part, I adjusted the glove on my left hand, though there was no reason. Magic was also represented by the many training weapons available. This glove was enchanted to fire a bolt of mana, ki, or aura with drastically reduced power. It stung when it hit, but it did no real damage. It was an addition I hadn’t expected but was pleasantly surprised to see.

It was actually that one small change that had started me on this particular train of thought. I’d expected to know everything about Ahya when I started to explore it. I mean, I’d written everything about this world, from the most powerful Divines to the smallest shack in the city. There shouldn’t have been anything in here that I didn’t know. I shouldn’t have been surprised. Yet, I had been, at least three times now. And this last surprise was the most concerning.

As I’d written it, the Thieve’s Guild was a powerful, effective, and widespread organization. Taking one person out in a crowded market was certainly within their skill set. But they were designed to operate in harmony with the guards of Milagre. Each side respected the other even as they attempted to thwart them, and never crossed certain lines. So while they could perform assassinations inside the Market District with ease, the simple fact was that they just never did.

So, if they were now capable of breaking this one rule that I’d put in place, what else could they be up to? I couldn’t stop thinking about it, even when trying to focus on my sparring. I was burning to find out more. If I could figure out who was responsible for sending the assassins after me, then I might stand a chance of getting to the bottom of the strange experience.

“I wish there were a way for me to speak to the warrior they captured,” I said. “If I could get him to tell me who ordered the hit, then maybe I could…”

I tailed off, not sure exactly what I’d do after that. For that matter, even getting the chance to talk to the fighter that was currently sitting in the barrack dungeons was out of the question. Only people of high rank were allowed to do that, and only with permission. Even the Queen herself couldn’t just waltz inside the dungeons to chat with a prisoner. There were rules, protocols, and safeguards to prevent escape, and the most important of that was that outside communication was highly controlled. In fact, there was only one kind of person that had unquestioned access. And that was…

“Enri,” I said, so quietly that Gogo could barely hear me. “He’s the only one that can access the cells without question. All permission comes from him.”

“Who is Enri?” Gogo asked. By now, his spear was pointed toward the ground, as he’d clearly given up on the hope of a real practice match. “Is he another Ancient?”

I shook my head. Enri Ciayol, the Captain of the Royal Guard, was an ordinary human. True, he was a Paragon of Ahya, but that extraordinary power came only from the weapon that he wielded, and not his own might. In fact, compared to most humans, he was rather weak, because he was born without the ability to channel magic of any kind.

“He’s the Captain of the Royal Guard,” I said. “Basically, the highest-ranking soldier in Milagre itself.”

“Even higher than the Generals of the army?”

“In times of peace, yes,” I said with a nod. “He controls the entire Royal Guard, and answers only to the Queen.”

“Sounds like he’s important,” Gogo said with a small frown. “Would he even listen to someone like you?”

“If he knew I was an Ancient, it’s certainly possible,” I said. “But that would create more questions, and wouldn’t guarantee me access.”

Gogo stabbed the point of his training spear into the ground and let out a long sigh. “Fine. I can tell you’re not going to change your mind on this, so I’ll help you. But you better not lead me into anything that gets me arrested.”

I glanced up at him, not quite catching what he’d said as my mind was still swimming. It wasn’t until he spoke again that I registered his change of opinion. “How do we get his attention without revealing what you are?”

“There’s only one way,” I said absently. “We either enlist as Royal Guards and climb the ranks..”

Gogo shook his head at once. “Too boring.”

I was inclined to agree, so with a grin, I said, “Or we can do something impressive enough to catch his attention.”

Judging by the blank expression on Gogo’s face, he didn’t understand. “How would that be of any help?”

“He has a habit that’s quite well-known,” I said, my grin widening. “When he encounters promising warriors and mages, he tries to recruit them into the Royal Guard. Part of his job as Captain is ensuring that all the people he commands are of a high quality.”

Gogo nodded his understanding. “That’s logical. You wouldn’t want sub-par employees.”

“Indeed. So if we get on his radar - err, I mean get his attention, then we’ll be approached with a job offer. Some people do refuse him, but he’s always willing to reward their strength or skill with a favor.”

Gogo’s eyes widened, and I could tell that he understood at last. “You’re going to ask to see the prisoner.”

“Exactly.”

“But will he still be a prisoner by the time you get Ciayol’s attention? He might be released by then. Or killed.”

I shook my head. “Attempting murder is a serious crime. Doing it in the markets is even worse. He won’t be released anytime soon. Plus, the security in the barracks is incredible. You’d need an army to break in to kill anyone, and even then it’s not easily done.”

“Still,” Gogo replied, determined to be realistic about it, “He’s the Captain of the Royal Guard. You’d have to do something really big in order to get his attention.”

“Or a lot of slightly big things,” I shot back. “And I have the perfect idea. Even better, it’s quick, and it doesn’t interfere with our other plans.”

“So we’re still joining the Mage’s College on the first?”

“We are,” I agreed. “That’s important. We need to increase our magical knowledge and expertise. And in the meantime, while we study, we’ll earn money through bounties.”