Granny Qi’s explanation regarding why there wasn’t as much maritime trade as I’d expected was kind of unconvincing, though I didn’t have any information to counter it, and she was a native to this world. All I could do was try to look into things later, and anyway, as it was, it wasn’t like the information would change anything about my current predicament.
We passed across numerous hawkers and vendors, but nothing really caught my eye until I chanced upon a workshop which made things which were very like the fountain pens back on Earth.
These were a step above the modified reed pen I was using up till now, and the craftsmen who made them allowed me to try one out. It flowed easily over the paper and was far more natural than anything else I had used up till that point.
“So this is how you use it,” he explained, disassembling the pen to show a small sack in there. “Take a bottle of ink, squeeze this sack, and dip the end of the tip into the ink well.” I watched as the ink slowly went into the sack through a mixture of suction and capillary action. “But be careful - it can only be used with some kinds of ink. Other kinds will corrode the insides and eventually make it unusable.”
I bought six of them - they cost ten denarii each. Granny Qi looked at them funnily - likely she was used to writing with brushes and couldn’t understand why I paid so much for them, but if this made writing more comfortable to me, it was worth the price. I also bought a few bottles of ink from the guy for another ten denarii. The ink would not last me the whole year, but I hoped I would be able to find a reasonable substitute somewhere in Arconia even after the Book Fair was over.
By then the shops were slowly closing as the sun descended towards the horizon, and we headed back home.
I woke up late the next morning too - or at least, late by my usual standards. Granny Qi was already up and about and said that she would come by to see how the tournament went for me. Otherwise, she was going to stay at home for the morning while I went out.
What to do until then?
After buying a strange sweet made with honey that I had never seen before I chanced upon something that seemed interesting - a play that was being performed. The performance had actually started yesterday, meaning that I had missed a good chunk of the plot, but this last bit was self-contained to the point that I hoped I hadn’t missed much.
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It had begun by the time I had entered after buying a ticket - there was a special seating arrangement for Liberomancers, so I didn’t have any trouble seeing what was going on in the stage.
From what I had understood, the play was about the events that led to the downfall of the Ruler of the Astral Winds, with a good portion of it being focused on King Faussius III. I hadn’t heard that name before, but I figured I might learn something since the play was supposed to be based, at least loosely, on historical events.
The stage was set up in what looked like a throne room, with a man sitting upon a throne placed in the center who I guessed was King Faussius III - though I didn’t want to be the guy asking other people in the audience what was going on during the play and decided to just keep quiet for now and check it out.
A man walked onto the stage, dressed in a peculiar green robe embroidered with an emblem of sword crossed with a quill pen. “Allow me to greet the magnificent King Faussius III, rule of the Faussian Kingdom.” The man then bowed.
“You may proceed,” the man sitting on the throne said leaving no doubts now as to his identity.
“I bear a message from my master, the Ruler of the Astral Winds, overlord of the Raswatian Empire. My Lord’s kingdom stretches from the headwaters of the Ragini to the sea, from Mt. Pehar to the Valley of the Dragons. The magnificence and power of his realm is known throughout the world, Your Highness. And My Lord is so gracious as to allow the Faussian Kingdom to become a piece of this prosperous realm, and for this he merely asks for a few meager offerings,” the envoy said.
King Faussius III snorted - the actor was really trying to ham in the expressions, but it just looked like over-acting to me. “So he wants us to bow down and become his slaves - this is no gracious offer, it is a demand of fealty. And what, tell me, will happen should we refuse?”
“If you turn away this hand of friendship, it will have to reluctantly become a fist of war,” the envoy said. “And the displeasure of My Lord will rain down upon Your Highness’s kingdom.”
“So, he has finally dispensed with beating around the bush and has decided to become open with his intentions,” King Faussius III said. “My armies are well-trained, and I myself command the Rank Four of Liberomancy. It will not be so easy to trample upon us!”
“With all due respect to His Majesty,” the envoy answered. “To fight My Lord is not to fight an army - but to fight a force of nature itself. One can no more fight him than a man can fight a hurricane or an earthquake. No doubt your illustrious self is skilled in the arts of Liberomancy, but My Lord has prevailed over foes far more accomplished than your honored self - he is the kind of genius that is seen only once every ten thousand years. The gap between Rank Four and Rank Five, Your Highness - though you may not know for the scarcity of Rank Five casters - is the difference between heaven and earth. I have no doubt of Your Majesty’s or his people’s resolve. But to resist My Lord is the definition of futility.”