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The Gatekeepers Series
Chapter 23: Night Watch

Chapter 23: Night Watch

“So, what ya been up to?” Tim wiggled his stump of a leg as though nothing could dampen his mood. Not even the new aura faded peg leg trend he rocked.

In truth, getting out of that with all of his friends alive, that he knew of—Melody and the Farar were still on their missions to the Krows and to track Lias’s pouch to his home—aside from those unknowns, all of his friends were alive, and here he was enjoying the company of the one for whom he’d fled goblins for days, just to see that smile again.

Jil looked at him as though he were speaking another language and was here to amuse him.

Which recalled a question he’d been putting off. Its answer would be one more nail in his coffin of not being in Kansas anymore. “What’s our language called?”

“Ready for that one, ay?”

“I’ve had other issues to deal with.” Tim pushed through the air in front of his stump, blowing his mind yet again, especially as it felt like the leg was still there. He rarely went more than a few seconds without flexing his toes against the numbness.

“How’d you figure it out?”

“It started in my dream. I had to sign my name on the chalkboard, and the kids started laughing. My teacher said, ‘What language is that?’ Then, ‘Report to Principal Cartwright’s office. He’s looking for a new skull.’ It ended when I saw what I’d written. The strokes were all intentional variations of a hockey stick with various notches and positions within its square eight block. At one I both had no idea and could read it perfectly.”

Jil wore a laid-back grin. “Yep. That’s about how most describe it. We speak Adiba. The letters are called dib, singular and plural. Every letter is a variation of “dib”. Diba is the first dib in our alphabet. Dibaj is the second...”

Corresponding dib appeared in his HUD as she went through each letter.

“The Whisper allows you to speak the language of the first person you hear speak on this side of the veil, all while hearing it in your primary language from back home. The poet Astree mused on how this could have been implemented after too many perished soon after the parting. Early centuries had as few as five to ten years where they actually found the jewel. Astree believes the gatekeeper Morin, the one with the Fox gene and who loved carrots, used his level to evolve and cast the mirrored tongue.”

This was another quirk he loved about Jil. It didn’t matter what they talked about. With her, it was always easy. “He loved carrots huh?”

“Yeah, well, every painting has a carrot on his person somewhere. It’s a little nugget of local history to help you look a bit less like a smacked fish.”

“I do appreciate that. Where was the gatekeeper Morin from?”

“Hai Trade. It was just Hai coastland, in the translated version of the native tongue. Only those in the Orchard can speak the real name in their native language, Ashf. Morin used his cultivation to elevate their tongue to the highest form of Speak. They used that to expand their trading to the islands.”

“Sounds like a smart guy.”

“Yeah. Had a bit of a slimey businessman side, too.”

Tim wagged his stump. “Oh, spill it.”

Jil played along with mock penuche. “Well, as you could likely guess, the Outer Rim would have felt like another world with how different their civilizations evolved than those in the Pillar and its land connected neighbors. Tales of island people and sometimes fully creature-based societies are a tale of black magic and tragedy for another night. Some say through them lies the gateway to the unCharted beyond the Endless Sea.”

“That doesn’t sound interesting at all,” he lied. “Such a tease.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” she said.

“Good one.” She was extra cute when she put on her American persona.

“Been waiting to use that. Stick around and we can visit the Rim some day. Better I show you.”

“I can’t wait.”

“Before we do that, you’ll have to navigate the politics to survive here. Understand the Outer Rim is tightly knit against the Pillar. Some of the most outrageous deals have taken place on trading pontoons, and it goes both ways.”

“Like what?” He asked, smiling in a way to invite her comfort in sharing whatever tickled her fancy.

“Once a Zevehe prince spent a billion sengers for white pants,” she said, nodding to his disbelief.

“So, irritable bowels?”

She shrugged. “Maybe. Apparently, they were enchanted to never stain or rip.”

“How’d that work out for him?”

“He was stabbed in the gut and found dead in an alley in their capitol, sans pants. Likely killed by the other half of one of his many female companions.”

“Are you trying to get me to find these white pants for me… or you?” Tim nodded, “I’m onto your game. Okay. Our next trip to Zevehe I’ll get you your white pants.”

Jil smiled with full amusement. “I’ve never said no to free pants.”

Tim chuckled. “Free pants mafia for life!”

“Something like that… Where we’re headed, I doubt any trip into Zevehe will be worth risking our lives for pants, but we can both dream.

“Back to what I wanted to say about Morin.”

“Sorry, please,” Tim said.

“Morin used the best shapeshifting spell money could buy to trick the people of Gwangsando, the southwestern most landmass before the Endless Sea. Because of him, the Outer Rim developed spells to test loyalty and locality by the tongue. If you don’t speak like them, they might kill you on the spot. Too many of their kind have been wiped out by outsiders.

“What happened on Gwangsando?” Tim asked.

“Morin was on the run through the Baron-waters to evade Vansmia’s navy. He used his precious sea mine map to reach Gwangsando’s shore. Then he cast a shapeshifting spell to appear as one of their own, lost to Vigterr pirates. Sharing trade secrets he passed off as stolen from the Vigterr, he partnered with their governor to transform their island into his in with the Outer Rim.”

“Sounds like a hook for a twist?”

She nodded. “He fell in love there, and at the risk of losing it all, confessed his trickery to his fiancé’s father, the governor’s brother. The economic windfall combined with a strengthened navy built through Morin’s aura skills and heavy investment allowed him to survive his trickery. Eventually, he and his wife fled back to Hai where he built New Gwang to remind her of home. When the Dutchy burned it to ash… well, that’s another story for later.”

Tim played his fingers like piano keys below his nose. “Excellent.”

“For now, the point is Hai Trade Company is about two hundred years since Morin’s influence. His kids kept the business, but they never had to push like he did. Nor has the current Trade Minister utilized Morin’s aura infrastructure. In that game, you don’t have much time without leveling up before the aura hunters and spellcasters eclipse your skills. It’s among the most difficult to master, and those who have aren’t always the most trusting lot.”

Tim liked where this educational moment was going. Was she training him how to build his own aura powerhouse? “If his kids didn’t pursue those aura gifts and foundation, does that mean we could pick up where he left off? What would that look like?” He added, reading that she could go along with that plan.

“That’s a good question for Khempal. His original work put a solid foundation for what HTC has become, and there are some like Khempal and the currencists who continue his use of aura to boost trade. Their cause has lost support, however. Maybe that’s where we step in.”

“Recruiting other aura mages like me, maybe?”

She shrugged, hopeful, but not greatly. “In the last decade, they’ve only won one Hunt. So, any help wouldn’t be as great as our opposition.”

“If we win the Hunt, though…”

She nodded. “Yep. Then maybe we recruit HTC aura mages and train them with discounts for the Jewel use.”

“In exchange for service or fighting at our side is fine with me.”

“That’s the crevice where the cartel has planted its wedge. They offer power and money. Those they can’t buy they burn to the ground through espionage and guerrilla warfare. Their standing army power comes from their grip on the nuts of the leaders across the Pillar.”

“So, pretty much the same issues as Earth,” he said. “Minus the whole aura and jewel hunt aspects.”

“They’re similar. Childockia and Hai share some parts of the relationship between England and the US. Not the revolution aspect, but their position as trying to be honorable leaders in a world that is increasingly bent on their destruction. Each year, the Hunt is like limited or sanctioned warfare.

“All year, we have sanctioned rules of engagement that are only obeyed in the light of what we can find out. Eiyero trade has made more than rogue leveling, but both have put a lot of money in the Cartel’s coffers, and likewise has built up the holdings of those who’ve made deals in secret and in the open. That said, the carnage is greatest during the Hunt. Anything goes until the Jewel finds its new home, or snowfall lands without it being found.”

“Would Childockia be considered my home here?”

She liked that. He’d meant to spin the second side to combine announcing his allegiance to her country and her home. She read rightly that his statement implied where he wanted to be, and whom he wanted to be with.

“If you say so.”

“I do.” Somehow his wink didn’t evoke a cringe. Maybe his Charisma wasn't that low after all. Great, one more attribute I need to keep up on. Though it seems–

“It’s cute that you think that worked as well as it did.” She mimicked his wink.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

“There is no think. Only do.”

Jil chuckled with pity. Her attention shifted to the water. “Still, they’re our biggest ally. Our fate may fall with them if neither of us win the Jewel. We’ve both been trying our best sticking to our roots and trusting in the light to guide, and not resort to what most of the Pillar are doing. Kiber tried to fight back and now this colossal fire is blowing their way on eleven thousand arrows fired by the Zevehe 1st.”

“Eleven… Girl, you know how to talk dirty. Tell me about—”

A cellar door creaked open near the path of rubble leading up to their spot at the wall. Rocks from the collapse had smashed through one side of the entrance. Khempal climbed out of the other, squinting against the dust caking her face and robe. “You think any of your Highlord’s council predicted you’d rescue a Hornet currencist?” she asked. A wickedly fun look crossed her face and she started to retrieve something from behind her back. “Or that I’d reward you with the squire’s gold.” She lifted a pouch of jingling coins, smiling wide at her new prize.

“Squire’s gold?” Tim asked, wondering if more waited in the cellar.

“Aeu and I had a good thing going,” she said. “Never reached the romance I hoped for…” A sudden wave of apparent grief forced her to take a breath. “I’ve been planning my return since they dropped the Murphy here. I know why it waits in the tunnels, and where,” she said, delicately presenting the pouch as though it were a faberge egg on the tips of her fingers. “This is nothing compared to his treasure down there. I helped him amass that wealth and will see to it his mission lives on in his absence.”

She lifted a folded note from beside the pouch. “He left this.”

Dryfu flew up from his latest meal, and carefully landed on Khempal’s upraised knuckle to take it and fly it back to Tim. It read:

I’m sorry. I couldn’t wait.

It amazed Tim to comprehend Adiba and transcribe it fluently. “They speak Adiba too?”

“It’s split in Wachamia,” Jil said. “But it is the predominant language among our allies. It originated in Childockia and spread when Jym and Lilik’s contention for the throne caused Lilik to split and found Wachamia. Jym inherited the throne in Childockia and his close ties with Hai and then the allies connected through them made it easiest to adopt Adiba as the common tongue. Ojair is the second most common, as it is an evolved blend of that spoken among the farmers and merchants from the Dutchy to Zevehe. Lilik adopted that for Wachamia as part of his rise to become their king.”

“Do you speak Ojair too?” Tim asked, the question up for either to respond.

Both women nodded. Skill in battle and beauty eclipsed by their intellect.

“The cartel utilize multiple languages to maintain their secrecy and local ties,” Khempal added.

“Well then, more to teach me when the time allows. I’d like to hear more about the history of Jym and Lilik.”

Jil and Khempal both spoke agreement over each other. Tim smiled and returned to read the note’s final line: “If you must, use the oshi to kill it.”

Khempal hung her head in examination of the tower’s fall, leading to the water. “Somewhere in there would be his stash.”

Tim could barely contain his excitement to reveal the good news.

“Oh, spill it,” Dryfu said, dryly.

Tim produced the brick of oshi.

Khempal’s eyes lit with hope.

“It took us to the bottom of a waterfall, but we got it.” Tim emphasized “we” with a glance at Dryfu. “I used some to make a poison to trap birds in the tunnels below. I ran out of EQ by then, though, so I’m still waiting to reap the rewards in my skill advancement.”

“Don’t you know how to talk to a girl,” Jil said.

“Two nerds in a pod.”

Khempal waited like a fun older sister for their flirting to meet its end. “Yes. Well, if we don’t have to kill the Murphy, the aura and battle rewards will hopefully jumpstart us into the Whisper’s will and find that Jewel. “We’ll have to team up against the Murphy with everything we have. Aeu’s last act turned it from the cartel’s hitman to the guardian of his wealth and skill. It’s said the Whisper rewards those who entertain with that kind of victory during the Hunt. Might provide clues to the location of the Jewel as part of our bounty.”

Tim’s interest piqued at that potential. “Aeu’s poison wasn’t strong enough to kill the Murphy? Or he just saw a better use for it? The Murphy, that is.”

“I think the latter,” Khempal said. “He must have realized with everyone else gone, turning the Murphy into a treasure guardian was his best way of keeping it out of the cartel’s hands. At least until friends like me arrived who would put it to use in the same way this city had lived. It’s not all about the Hunt for me. Our hope was to turn this castle into a light to shine back the cartel into the hole they climbed out of.”

Khempal turned to mourn anew the remnants of the stairs leading to where Aeu’s tower had been.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Tim admitted.

“The reason the Murphy is still here,” Khempal continued, “is because Aeu gave it life. The bad news is, we need that treasure. As strong as your wraith legion is… they didn’t get everyone. They’ll hunt until daybreak, but the Cartel never has just one unit in any region. Cells that operate independently of the ones they observe allow them to wipe their tracks or report updates to the council. The enemy knows we’re here. I can use a good portion of that treasure to fund our hunt.”

“Oh?” Tim asked. “How?”

“One, I could buy materials to build up the walls. Thron’s already making plans on how he could fix it with the right materials. That could give us time to defeat the Murphy and get out before their reinforcements arrive. I hope.”

“I’ve been wondering if this becomes a base or mine we leave for the enemy,” Tim said, considering the news that Thron could rebuild the wall. “Do we repair this when they have grenades? Can what he makes stop them? Do we build some kind of turret system to keep them from getting close?”

“I could order something that’s explosion resistant.” Khempal spread her hands to open a living map of the area, though not detailed to every living thing. It included icons for storehouses, shaded areas with threats by color code, and time per route. The way she emphasized “resistant” made him less than confident in how they’d hold up. Especially when reinforcements arrived with time to prepare for an assault.

The store houses included specialties, common items, and further options to buy, sell or trade.

“This is awesome. Reminds me of Final Fantasy,” Tim said, picturing Khempal as a 32-bit NPC, pointing him to the nearest shop. Except she wasn’t a soulless NPC. She had been hurt by the Cartel, too. They assassinated her love, Aeu, and now had a Terra-esque quest to find justice for the fallen. They shared the same fight. “We don’t have to abandon this place, even if we just make it look that way. I like the idea of convincing them we’re on the run, if possible. That way they might not have to blast their way in. Is it fair to say they know the real treasure is below?”

Khempal nodded, gaining traction on his plan. She took one of the ridged gold coins. The face of one side presented a zetkler with wings full spread. It transformed in her touch to become an aura coin. She rolled into her golden cheek slot where it disappeared in a flush of blue aura absorbing into her skin. “I knew it would be fun pairing with an aura mage and a Childockian rogue.”

Rogue?

“She hasn’t told you yet?” Khempal slid another aura coin into her cheek as she considered to herself what that might mean.

Tim wanted to know to and checked Jil. “What’s she on about? Your class shows as Childockian High Archer.”

Jil shrugged, apologizing with a glance. “That’s not wrong. I have a secret class. My first class, actually. It’s not something I like to advertise. With my dad being High Priest, my inclination toward rogue was frowned upon. This mission has proven all that effort was for a greater purpose. All the hiding, of time spent away from my family so I could study under Colisthar. I did it for this mission. I’m not going home without that jewel.”

Khempal wore an amused expression. “If you get it first, I’ll help you keep it. If, you get it first.” She chain smoked those aura coins down near to the bottom of the pouch. “On account of this new fortune, and as thanks for rescuing me, I was going to handle the wall issue and let you two get some sleep.”

“Tell me more how the trading works first,” Tim said. “How do we get goods if we’re mostly surrounded? I have a faint sense of the wraiths in a feeding and conserving energy mode. Their stamina isn’t the greatest, is it?”

Khempal placed a finger on one of the roads and pulled it to a riverside, then connected it at a gully with what would be a steep climb for a horse and carriage. Their location at Squire’s Castle was the beginning of some mountains leading north by northwest up past the Dutchy border. They weren’t that far west of Padstoligan.

At her direction, the line shifted from red to orange and finally green. “There. Your wraiths opened this path from here to here. I can combine these two routes here. Up enough of a lane for me to call a transport.”

“What are the costs?” Tim asked. “Can I see the item lists?”

Khempal drew a line on her map under the closest stores and slid in one of the last coins. “Aeu left these coins for me and this mission in particular, so don’t worry about the costs. I’ll cover a topflight carriage and my own horses. This pouch here gave me two-hundred twelve sengers. The ride itself will cost a hundred just to request the carriage and horses, hundred and fifty if we want it in the next twenty minutes. The rest we can spend on supplies.”

Tim had forty-three gold pieces, seventeen silver and five bronze medallions shaped in the profile of different forest creatures. His scan said unknown value, but maybe she could trade them. They also had plenty of loot from the Cartel and Drakkon. “You mentioned trade.” At his words a window popped up in his HUD with market value per item in their party storage submenu.

Items popped up on another window under the store inventory.

Calculating trade value of your party supplies…

The street value of their Eiyero eclipsed twenty thousand sengers.

“We can’t trade that on an established route,” Khempal said. “Normally I’d say we’ll have to put it in a locked box for transport to the nearest Krow embassy. They have a Drawcaster who can transform the Eiyero into other usable compounds. And deep pockets to pay for our donation.”

“You said, Normally,” Tim said, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“In the Hunt,” Jil started, “you don’t sacrifice any advantages.”

“Maybe we keep it in case we find an artisan to make more nixstone.”

Tim’s nerves dance with life and Dave Chappelle’s “Got Any Crack?” scene came to mind. “We should see Ky soon. He can strain us, and we’ll advance our skills in the meantime. I vote for that. Would it help regen my aura to get rid of this fade?”

“Potentially,” Jil said while something clattered in the cellar.

Tonda scampered out covered in white dust, followed by Thron, Roz and Chris with his bear cub, now taller than his knee. He thought of scanning the companion’s skills, until Tonda got a hitch in her step. As she got closer, he noticed sections of her fur matted in blood.

Tim waved with his stump. The fade was still up to his knee with little signs of improvement. His regen was slow to non-existent, too.

Because your body is fighting the fade. It’s a vicious cycle burning your body out the way you are. If you don’t slow down—

Tonda licked her rough tongue against the fade wound. The itch made him recoil.

I’m trying to—

Are you seriously considering taking on the Murphy tonight?

If I can get my leg back.

You need to sleep. Your mana channels are low on oil, and there’s no quick fix, no matter what Khempal wants to buy. Your body needs to learn how to recover as naturally as possible, or with the help of natural or aura-based items. Eiyero is not a good idea.

Chris plopped down beside Tim and squeezed his shoulder. “Good to see you made it. Always did love a good swim.”

“That I did. Now I could use a good meal. But I’ll settle for fried zetkler. Think we’re okay to start a fire?”

“You’re talking about hiring a carriage, might as well have a fire,” Thron said.

Tim bumped knuckles with the strong man. His wounds had healed in his face and chest. A gash on his arm had a dark scab but looked on the mend. “Glad to see you well, friend.”

“Your brother does a great job. Saved all our lives in threes.”

Tim took out the flint and started to get up.

“No sir,” Thron put out a hand to stop him. “I have a boar I’ve been saving until we had something to celebrate. You rest, give Jil something to lean on, and let me cook tonight.”

Jil scoped out the ground by Tim’s leg. “If you boys are gonna take watch, I won’t turn it down.”

A low rumble rose in Tonda’s throat. She side eyed Jil, then licked Tim’s knee. Tim released a whiff of Magic Hunt. Her tongue and around her mouth had a pink and forest green aura matching the same glow on his stump. Her aura skill to nurse young had evolved to nurse his wound. Already an inch of his old form had returned.

Tim pet her head. “It’s okay.” He shifted to point his leg away from Jil, leading Tonda to back off.

“You try and bite or cut this,” Jil started, pointing at the blade on her belt. She clicked her tongue and made an axe motion, serious at first, then playing off with a smile.

“She won’t,” Tim said. “I think she is just a little jealous.”

“No need, for now. I’m just going to take a shut eye. Can you share the list of items from those shops? I can start scanning for something good.”

The store items were still filtering in by some kind of magical wifi download with its imperfect lag. Khempal’s eyes twitched and her head shifted in spurts, as though in sync with her lips and her private musings. The items on the right blocked and rotated out and under to form lists of similar goods within categories. A jar of “aurthecary” appeared at the top of one list with a price tag of 95 sens.

Tim looked closer at its ingredients, which included orev and edke. Aurthecaries are like tinctures for aura.

Yeah.

Got it. Why’d… nevermind. The beauty of the emerald glass jar with old fashioned cork, like back when real corks were made, in America…

Like I said. How about you get some sleep, Captain America? Tomorrow will be another day to save the universe. Oh look. Party storage has 1,205 gold pieces in trade value.

Thanks, Dryfu. Tim pointed at the jar and dragged it down into a Victorian wooden chest of drawers under the lists. The “Campaign Chest” absorbed the jar into a small compartment inside the top drawer.

“Not quite your Mall of America,” Jil said, snuggling to reposition her head on his stomach. She swiped a quiver of dark green tipped arrows and deposited it in their Campaign Chest. “But it’s still fun.”

Tim tapped her head. “You bet.”

Again, his Charisma score needed some work.