1 – The Thaumaturge and the Sea Demon

“Vincent,” my mother said to me with a gentle smile, “you’ll do great, I know it. You’ve done all you could to prepare, right?” I had. For the past week, I had done nothing but study notes, practice my craft, and review previous quizzes and tests for questions. “Then you have nothing to worry about. Now go, son, you wouldn’t want to be late, would you?”

The day was only just beginning. I had more than enough time to make it to the Department of Thaumaturgy and find my seat for the final examination. Enough time, in fact, to make a detour to see a place of great personal significance.

A pack on my back and duffle in hand, I left the threshold of our modest home and stepped out into the street proper. I was greeted by a cacophony of familiar smells, sounds, and sights.

My lungs took in the salty sea air, mixed with the scents of colony life: the brine of the ocean below, the wood and sawdust of both old and new constructions, the stench of fish and the pleasant scent of cooking as the people prepared their breakfast.

All around were the sounds of colony Niu waking up to the dawn of a new day. I heard grumbling and laughter in equal measure. Boots thudded across the wood floor while carts creaked and groaned as they carried their burdens through streets wide enough to accommodate them. Ever-present was the gentle sounds of the ocean beneath. Hundreds of feet below the superstructure of dense, layered, interlocking planes of lumber and nails, the rough seas swelled and dipped and rolled and everything else the vast ocean was want to do. Missing was the sound of the waves battering against the legs of the colony; the titanic pillars of classified origin and composition that ran deep, deep beneath the surface and, purportedly, driven into the ground at the bottom of the ocean.

As I made my way to the center of the colony, I took in the sights that had inspired me to become a thaumaturgist; one who researches and creates using the strange and aberrant materials that were found within rifts in reality.

Homes warmed through metal boxes that produced hot air, staving off chilly nights. Meals prepared with tools that never dulled and stoves that needed no fire. Glass spheres that housed lights that burned no fuels and produced no gases. Clothes that repaired themselves. Large tanks that held sea water and distilled it to potability with envious efficiency. News delivered daily from distances as vast as the mainland through devices with no physical connection. Even the platform on which the colony was built atop was reinforced to near indestructability.

Every time I walked these streets, I couldn’t help but marvel at the wonders that thaumaturgy had brought us, for it was not always that we had such conveniences and tools at our disposal. I had been born just as the colony was being populated, and of the memories of my younger years that I retained, I remembered how tough life had been for our family of three. Food and water was rationed, the nights cold, and the work grueling. We practically wore rags, for they were cheap and easily replaceable.

I shook myself from the darker memories and found myself standing in front of a large metal cylinder; the Hearth. A panel of thick, reinforced glass revealed the contents; a bonfire of white flame burned eternal within, giving off a warmth that soothed the mind, or perhaps the soul. Either way, it protected Niu from the formation of Anomalies – the rifts or cracks in reality where logic and reason held no sway. The flame, an Artifact, had been scavenged from an Anomaly and brought here, safely housed within its container, serving as the most critical requirement of establishing the colony.

I stood there for a few minutes, my gaze shifting idly as I basked in the calming presence. Greenery surrounded the Hearth, trees planted in plots of imported soil and dirt, flowers of all kinds lined the stone pathways, and the sounds of insects, birds, and the swaying of leaves drowned out the noise of the sea. It was a serene place, where I could shed the stresses of school and responsibility, if only for a moment.

With a deep breath, I turned and left, continuing to my destination.

By the end of the day, I would either have the job I had dreamed of for years, or I would… Never mind. It was best not to think of that outcome.

***

Crowded around the entrance to the building were all of the various Highdiver crews that had sponsored a budding thaumaturgist’s education. Captains and their officers conversed with each other, networking and building relations that would benefit them in the coming years. They may be competition, but cooperation, or at the very least, neutrality, was ultimately more profitable than losing manpower and resources over relatively minor squabbles.

Standing at the edge of the crowd was a familiar face.

“Dimitri!” I called out, waving to him with a smile. He returned the smile and beckoned me forward.

The captain of the provisional Phoenix Feathers was a young man in his late twenties. He wore a long leather overcoat and dark-red, almost black, pants. He sported an impressively long beard that had been braided into simple knots that held silver and copper rings, some of which were studded with jewels – I assumed that if they were not already infused with thaumaturgy, he would have me infuse them at some point in the future.

Dimitri slapped my back with a hearty laugh and introduced me to his first mate and helmsman. They were unassuming and didn’t say much besides give a small greeting.

The captain asked me, “I’d ask if you’re ready, but knowing you…” he trailed off with a smile.

I shook my head. “No, that’s a fair ask. Yeah, I’m ready, Dimitri. Ready as I’ll ever be, anyways.”

For a moment, I swore I saw a flicker of something in his expression, though it was so minor, I chalked it up to my imagination. “Well,” Dimitri said, “I won’t bother you too much, just go in there and knock ‘em dead!”

With those words, I faced the trial that would decide my future.

***

“Time!” the proctor called. I set down the device I had been working on, a failure. I handed in my worksheets and crafted items with a deep sense of despair. Numbness was all I felt. Hollow and bereft of sensation and emotion. I kept telling myself it was just a bad dream. Those words, too, felt meaningless.

I had failed. Not completely, for I had full confidence in the written portion of the exam. No, I had utterly floundered when it came to the crafting portion. It was as though the test writer had known exactly what areas I was deficient in and targeted me in particular. That wasn’t true, I knew it to be so, but still, that’s how it felt.

The ramifications to failing this exam, failed to obtain my certification for practicing thaumaturgy professionally…

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It was a disaster, to say the least.

I would not be joining the Phoenix Feathers, but more importantly, they would not be able to venture out into Anomalies to harvest thaums and artifacts without an accredited thaumaturgist. They had invested in my education, thinking it an opportunity, though it turned out to be a lost gamble instead. I now had a debt that I could not pay, and they would collect.

The laws of the colony were set by the Coalition; the gathering of the mainland governments that worked together to expand their reach across the ocean that held vast sources of wealth in the form of Anomalies. A joint effort of expansionism motivated by capitalism. To be clear, the laws of the Coalition, and by extension, the colonies, were built upon capitalism.

Monetary losses are an anathema to the tenets of capitalism. Therefore, liabilities are given very few rights, if any.

They would collect upon my debt, one way or another. My life as I knew it was over. And my parents were at great risk as well, as they were my guarantors. I had doomed them as well.

In my daze, I almost left through the front entrance before remembering who was waiting for me there. Dimitri. He was not going to be happy when he heard the news, and I would rather put that off as much as possible.

So, I quietly left through a back exit that spilled out onto an alleyway. I navigated the tight corridors until I emerged out onto the streets proper.

I could not return home. I could not face my parents knowing what awaited us. A coward is what I was, but I no longer cared what others called me; there was no point.

My steps led me nowhere in particular. The stars above shone brilliantly, though the lights of the colony at night polluted the view. Whispers of wind and sloshing waves were my only company as I wandered the streets.

At some point I grew tired of body and looked around for a place to rest my legs. I did not recognize where I had ended up – an empty street in a part of the colony I did not recognize.

To my right lay a peculiar sight. Tucked into the space between buildings was a shrine to a Leviathan, one of the Old Ones that made the oceans of the world their home. A marble statue sat atop a squat hunk of driftwood. It was carved in the image of a great serpent, winding and coiling around a jutting spire of rock.

Bringing my attention downwards, there was a plaque at the base of the statue that reads, “Ashaollo, of the crushing Riptide and the drowning Undertow.”

“Huh,” I muttered, “who’s Ashaollo?”

I stepped closer. Finer details I had not be able to notice from a distance now stood out to me. Etched into the marble, impossibly thin fins that somehow withstood the fierce ocean winds that often blew through the colony. An even smaller detail was the scales; there were thousands of them. I hadn’t known that stone could even be carved into such tiny shapes so accurately. Finally, I noticed the jeweled eyes that seemed to contain the vastness of the ocean.

In fact, the more I stared, the more sure I was that there actually was something moving beneath the surface. My eyes were drawn to the mystifying sights of churning waves and powerful currents that permeated the seas of the world.

My surroundings faded away, as the jewels became all I could see. Nothing else mattered than those blue-teal stones.

My consciousness slipped – my mind stopped for an eternal beat.

***

And I was somewhere else.

Blue all around. Fish of all kinds, swimming in schools, around and over rocky terrain. I looked down and was greeted by a sandy floor.

I’m underwater, I thought to myself. Thinking was hard at the moment, and I was oddly calm. Shouldn’t I be drowning? I wondered. Before I could consider the consequences, my body moved on its own, or at least, my addled mind refused to apply any amount of critical thinking. I opened my mouth and took in a breath.

Oh, that’s good. Air, not water, filled my lungs.

The stupidity of my actions had not yet caught up to my conscious mind.

I’m probably dreaming. I couldn’t remember when I fell asleep, but that was fine. Maybe the test was just a bad dream? That would be nice.

A movement in my perhipheral vision caught my attention. I turned, still a bit floaty, to face it. What greeted me briefly shattered my mind.

“OOPS,” a voice boomed in my mind. I realized that something had put it back together, thankfully. Also, I could finally think clearly again. And with that came the understanding of just how idiotic stupid-me was.

And, considering what I last remembered, I had a pretty good idea of who that voice belonged to.

“Ashaollo?” I tentatively called out.

From behind a large boulder came a serpent of titanic proportions. Its size was indescribable, literally so. My mind failed to measure it; the connection between it and its surroundings was just… not there, or blocked. It could have been as tiny as a finger, or larger than the planet. My mind nearly broke again from the disorientation. A headache started to form.

“JUST GIVE ME A MOMENT…” he again spoke directly into my mind. His loud voice did not help the pressure building within my skull. “THERE. IS THAT BETTER?” he asked.

I blinked. His size no longer fluctuated, and I could tell that he was quite large, though not planet-sized. Finally free of the insanity-inducing effects that he had displayed, I could focus on his appearance. It was much the same as the statue, except he now had color that the stone lacked. Ashaollo was adorned in shimmering green scales and fins of crimson. His eyes remained the same as the jewels on the statue, though where the statue’s were alluring, these were piercing. It felt like his gaze passed right through my skin and examined my naked soul.

“VINCENT WRIGHT,” he said. I dared not speak, for he was a god, and I was but a mortal in his domain, for that was clearly what this place was. A god’s realm, his demesne. This turned out to be the correct decision, as he continued to speak. “I AM NOT ONE FOR PLEASANTRIES, SO I WILL BE BRIEF. I KNOW OF YOUR TROUBLES, YOUNG THAUMATURGIST.”

His words were kind even though his voice was loud and grating.

“I HEARD THAT.”

Oh. Well. Sorry.

“HMPH.”

I tried to keep my thoughts from straying, it wouldn’t do to upset a Leviathan. “Great one how may I serve?” I asked. He had already stated that he knew me, and my situation. He also wished to be brief. All things considered, it was best if I got to the heart of the matter instead of peppering him with platitudes and words of praise.

Ashaollo, god of Riptides and the Undertow, nodded in approval. “I HAVE A QUEST FOR YOU.”

A quest!? “May I ask, why me?” I questioned impulsively, then cursed myself for my lack of restraint.

He seemed amused as he told me, “YOU ARE YOUNG AND VULNERABLE.”

“Umm…” I stammer awkwardly.

“SHIT. THAT CAME OUT WRONG.”

Yes, yes it did.

“I MEAN,” he tried again, “YOU ARE IN A UNIQUE SITUATION, AND WOULD BENEFIT FROM AN ALLY THAT YOU COULD RELY ON.”

Ok? I wasn’t sure where this was going.

“YOU WILL TAKE CARE OF MY CAPRICIOUS CHILD UNTIL I DEEM OTHERWISE. HE IS YOUR RESPONSIBILITY NOW. GOOD LUCK.”

“Wait what?” I blurted out in shock. Had he really just foisted his problem child off to me?

“HM?”

Knowing he had read my thoughts, I quickly voice my other concerns. The real ones, yes, those other thoughts were nothing, just the thoughts of a dumb teenager.

The serpent narrowed its eyes.

“Ah… well, I was hoping that… um…” I hedged around the topic. I took a breath and decided to just ask it outright. “What do I get out of this?”

“OH, RIGHT,” he said as if he only just now remembered. “I DID ONLY JUST NOW REMEMBER.” I felt a bead of sweat roll down my back. “YES, THERE IS A BOON I CAN GRANT. MY BLESSING.”

Oh. Oh.

The fish-god wore a smug expression, if a titanic sea serpent could wear one, that is.

“ANYWAYS. IT’S TIME FOR YOU TO LEAVE. GET OUT.”

I felt my body rush towards the surface, the immense forces acting on it causing me to almost immediately black out.

***

“Oi, sharkbait, quit gawkin’ and get walkin’! Adventure awaits!” was the first thing I heard when I came to. I was standing, facing the statue. However, there was something – someone – between it and I.

Before me stood a boy roughly my age, wearing ragged shorts, a white and blue striped sleeveless shirt, and a crimson bandana tied around his head that covered some of his auburn hair. He also had shiny silver earrings that jangled with every movement of his head. His smile was vulpine, and the shark-like teeth threw me for a bit of a loop. The boy’s eyes were the same stormy mess I saw in the statue’s.

“Well, Vinny, let me introduce myself,” the boy said, having adopted a theatric air. He leapt backwards, flipping once to land on top of the statue, heedless of the potential damage – I winced as the boy shifted his bare feet, cracking off stone fins and other fine bits of stonework. The boy bowed, then with hands on hips and beaming a winsome smile, shouted, “My name is Kornos, son of Ashaollo! And you, my new friend, are about to embark on the adventure of a lifetime!”

Before I could overcome my shock at the rapidly escalating series of events, yet another unexpected – actually, completely expected – party decided to make their entrance.

A familiar, rough, raspy voice made me tense involuntarily. “Mr. Wright, we need to have a chat.”