The Isles of Alcar looked small in the distance, almost like depth perception was a real thing. Ha, if only. After climbing back onto the deck, I strained my eyes staring at the tiny island. I turned away from the ocean and glared at the priests. Trouble was coming and that trouble stood on the other side of the boat.
It was as if there was an agreement to stand as far away from each other as possible. George was the liaison constantly getting beckoned to the other side, agreeing to anyone and everyone. The promises he made were astounding, and became more concerning as the emboldened priests’ demands increased.
George’s promises started simple enough. A promise to turn himself in. A promise to turn himself in and donate his belongings to the priests. A promise to work for the priests to atone for his sins. This idea, this realization of a new source of passive income, quickly displaced any notion of taking the bounty. George was more valuable alive. More ideas ebbed and flowed.
As the boat was about to dock on the Isles of Alcar, the priests had nearly settled on a fifty percent commission on all future dungeon crawls, a promise to buy the priests a discount phoenix, and an unlimited supply of chocolate. Quetzal argued that 6,700,417 pieces of chocolate was sufficient because it was a prime number and infinity wasn’t even a number. Duncor, the priest who devoted himself to luck, stated that prime numbers weren’t lucky , unlike infinity. Arpior didn’t want chocolate because it didn’t have enough protein to build strength, so he opted for zero.
“George, come with us and don’t listen to those priests and their talks of chocolate.” I said.
“Sure,” George agreed.
“George, you’ll keep your promise to us, right? You wouldn’t go back on your word.”
“Absolutely, I wouldn’t.” George agreed.
The plank connected to the dock.
“Get off my boat!” Said Captain Avory, while pointing at everyone aboard.
The orderly single file ended the moment my feet hit the dock, I unsheathed my blade and pointed it at the priest. I beckoned with my hand for them to come at me, because that probably looked cool. Azog pulled out his great sword, heaving it behind his back. He actually looked cool. Rose folded her arms defiantly, just like the Princess Guidebook recommended in intense situations.
The priests began to glow, as magic surrounded their hands. They waved their hands around like they knew how to do magic, but not really all that well. George stood between us, seemingly ignorant of the fight that was about to occur.
“Step back, Priests. We’re not going to let you abduct our friend. There are consequences with enslaving good folk.” I said.
“That being is a zombie. His very being is a sin to the world, and his repentance to the Church is needed to have net neutral undead emissions on the environment. The good people of the world don’t need extra dark mana just sitting around. It’s not good for their skin.” said Arpior.
“Just get to the fighting already! This talking back and forth bullshit is hurting my business!” Shouted Captain Avory.
“As if anyone wants to ride your boat!” Rose shouted back.
“It has a name! My boat has a name! It’s Greg you moron.”
“It does have a name,” Azog admonished Rose.
Rose harrumphed and crossed her arms even harder, as recommended in the Princess Guide Tour Book.
As I lunged for the priests, guards from around the dock screamed for us to stop. These guards were unlike the guards of Nosturdam and Yorle, lacking the signature belt buckle and helmet. They also lacked the lack of muscles; these were burly men. Their large hulking bodies were covered in tattoos that look somewhat like foreign runes. They were like many slightly smaller Azogs. Their kilts stood out to me, I wondered if Azog would go back to wearing a kilt.
“No fighting on the docks, unless you want to be swimming with the sharks. Here in the Western Isles we don’t mess around around the boats.” said one of the guards.
A different but similar looking guard spoke up.
“Are these the two you're looking for?” asked the other guard into a strange whizzing artifact. He put the earpiece to his ear and cranked the handle. Words came out of the strange artifact that I couldn’t understand, mostly because the sound was too faint.
“Yes? The scrawny one and the zombie.” The guard confirmed.
More noise warbled out from the artifact.
“Absolutely, mister. We’ll have them chained up and escorted to you at once.”
“Woah, I’m not going anywhere without my companions,” I said, although it hurt me a little bit that I knew that I was the scrawny one. They definitely weren’t referring to Azog and, they’d use nicer words if they were talking about Rose. I supposed they’d call her pretty.
“It’s not a choice you get to make I’m afraid. The sparrow has left its nest, as they say.”
A blank expression was on my face. There were no sparrows in Mudville so I didn’t know what he was talking about.
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
“It's, uh, a figure of speech. Word has gotten out about the apprentice with the abundant debt to a professor
“What is he talking about, Arthur? You said that you won a special giveaway to win a trip on this vessel.”
“About that… It turns out that Alric took out a lot of money to afford George’s arrival. Apparently, he took out a loan from a professor.”
“Why didn’t you tell us this?” asked Rose.
I sighed. There wasn’t a good reason for me to hide the fact that I suddenly came into a lot of debt. But when I stood on the shores of Yorle, and I saw how excited Rose and Azog were to leave the wretched city, I didn’t have the heart to tell them the sad reality. That I was not only broke, I was more than broke.
“It wasn’t important at the time. Getting out of Yorle, was.”
Rose nodded like she understood.
“Well, that makes sense. That place smelled gross. And traveling to the other side of the country to board ships with criminals does not sound more appealing. How much is debt?”
“I’d say about 100 platinum.” I said.
The guard with the strange device furrowed his brow.
“Did you account for the interest?”
“Interest?”
“Yes, for late payments and the like. No one lends their platinum without wanting to get a return on their investment.”
“I thought it was the knowledge and discovery the professor was after.”
“You’ll have to discuss it with him. Although, I can’t say that this will be a pleasant conversation. The rumor going around the city is that the professor has lost his mind after hearing about Alric’s death, constantly rambling about how it was all a waste. That Alric was nothing more than another upstart failure.”
“That’s rude. Alric was a good man.”
“He might’ve been, but good men don’t pay back coins.”
“Not paying back your coins makes you bad.” said Rose. “That’s what my mother used to say.”
“Not necessarily. Most of us guards owe some coin one way or another. That is a part of life here in the Isles, especially in the city of Tatum.”
I would like to think that my resistance was great, when I tried to pull my hands away from the three guards that held me upright and clamped the cold steel around my wrists. In reality, though, I was just another scrawny man, being manhandled by men who weighed three times what I did. I wondered if Necromancers ever got to learn strength magic.
“What about what that zomby owes us? He promised to turn himself in for his very sins.” asked Arpior.
“Trust me, that zombie owes you nothing. Go along with your day, priests. Your kind are tolerated at best in the Isles. We remember the great tragedy, even after those who were inflicted died long ago.”
“This won’t be the last of us, Arthur! Our fight will continue later!” shouted Quetzal.
Before I could respond, the guards had already started to pull the two of us into the city.
A phenomenon I had yet to experience was how a city looked when paraded around in chains. The large structure of gothic architecture, blood stained glass windows, and often narrow alleyways didn’t change when changed. No, it was the finer details, the parts that made a city made it a thriving ecosystem.
While Nosturdam had a darker side, the influence of the Church was vast. Tatum was not a city of prayer, but one of traditionally illicit activities. That did not mean the city didn’t have law and order, it was just that Tatum’s morals were foreign to most people, even within the Isles. This was the home of the Academy of the Dark Arts.
Blankets covered the street vendors dice gambling operations, hiding them more as a technicality than anything else. It was obvious to the city guards what hid under the blankets, and they knew what hid beneath weren’t monsters or children, or child monsters. The closing of windows and doors was another oddity that I concluded didn’t happen when the guards weren’t parading people like me around.
The guards must’ve had a reputation, I realized. It was clear they penalized obvious law breaking, but they didn’t look for anything that wasn’t out in the open. This was the city of minding your own business.
“Where are you taking us!” Rose demanded as she walked alongside the guards.
“We’re not taking you anywhere. You’re free to go and do as you please, lady.” retorted the guard.
“You’re forcing me to walk alongside you, with your kidnapping.”
“His life is owed to another through debt. You cannot kidnap what you own.”
“So you practice slavery here?”
“Indentured servitude is not slavery, in the eyes of the city. It is always a consequence of one's actions.”
“But Arthur, here, didn’t take out the money. It isn’t his fault, his master Alric decided to be brazen with his coin and life.”
“But he chose to sign on as Alric’s apprentice. The actions of one's master are reflected on that of the apprentice. It is a choice to follow the footsteps of another, to share responsibility in all things good or less good.”
Azog did not look very alarmed, but had yet to say a word to the guards. He casually walked down the streets, his hands in the pockets of his coat. He felt at home in the warm coastal weather.
“Azog, help me stop this man!” Rose asked, as she tugged on his coat.
“I’m thinkin’ we’ll be just fine. It’s not the guard we got to talk to, it's the man whose payin’ the guards to have ‘em shuffle Arthur around we gotta convince.”
Tatum was a unique city, where the outward appearance from afar would sort of merely look like a village to most unaware. But where there were cities that constructed towers that defied the laws of flight, there were cities like Tatum, who built downward defying the laws of hole inspectors.
Small openings were littered all throughout the surface, leading to many interconnect tunnels of carved stone and engraved walls. Light from the surface scattered through the many hardened glass windows built into the city’s floor. From the surface they looked opaque, like a one way mirror.
I was nervous when one of the guards decided to push me down a hole, but after traveling down the tunnel for a little bit and witnessing the beautifully spacious and open carved city below eased my nerves somewhat. They weren’t going to bury me alive, I realized.
“What are the odds that the land above us caves in on this place? I mean it looks like the ceiling is made out of glass. I’m assuming it's not glass, though.”
“No, it’s glass. Hardened through technique and tempered with magic.This city is home to many doubters like you. They doubted the structural integrity at first, but after years of living down here they came to their senses. You will too. From all the guards, welcome to the underground.”