The smell of wood shavings rolled out of the workshop as Yazwa approached, and the sound of hammering and sawing filled the air. People rushed to and fro with buckets of nails and slabs of wood.

It took a few minutes, but she finally found a boy who didn’t look busy. “Excuse me,” she said, speaking loudly to be heard over the din. “I’m here to pick up an order.”

“Sa?” the boy replied, squinting at her.

“I’m here to… Wait, do you even understand me?” she asked, louder. “Speak Gray?”

The boy shook his head hard and said something very quickly before getting up and leaving her. Across the room, he tugged on the pants of a shirtless man and pointed. The shirtless man came over, shaking wood shavings out of his hair.

“You need something?” he asked, mercifully in Gray.

“Uh, yes,” Yazwa coughed, trying and failing to not look at his muscled chest. “I ordered the oar this morning. I came to pick it up and pay the other half.”

“Oh right,” the man said, snapping his fingers. “The rush job. I helped with that, it’s over here.” He set off, weaving around others at work until he reached a stack of objects leaning against the far wall. “Here you go.”

Yazwa felt a rush when she finally held it in her hands. It was just as tall as she was with an oval cross section for better grip. It was ramrod straight and the top third had wooden blades sweeping outwards from both sides. They extended out about the length of her hand and tapered into a narrow edge. She rubbed it with her thumb, it was sharp, but not sharp enough to cut. “It’s perfect,” she said, tapping it against the ground.

“It’s made of Achana wood, sturdy but still flexible,” he said, watching her wave it back and forth. “Doesn’t swell up when exposed to water either.”

“Hmn? Good,” Yazwa said absently, testing the balance. It was a little heavier than her last one and had much more weight at the end thanks to the narrow blades. It still felt a lot better in her hands than what she had been using.

The carpenter eyed her and cleared his throat. “Never seen an oar like this before. You sure that’s what it is? City law forbids us from making any kind of weapon without a license.”

“No no no,” Yazwa babbled, coming back to reality and fumbling for the lie Bill told her to use. “It’s a uh…a traditional type of oar from my home country. Meant for shallow water, so it needs to be sturdy at the end so it won’t break on any rocks.”

“Alright, it’s a weird paddle,” the carpenter shrugged, holding out his hand. “The other half of the order comes to six silver gatl.”

Yazwa paid him and hurried out, feeling so giddy she was almost floating. When she got back to the ship, she could inscribe the marking for Sharp on the staff. If her theory was right, it would take Sharp a lot easier than her hand or regular staff. That would mean she could re-create the effect that had killed the summon. If she could master that, she’d be unstoppable.

There was a sudden commotion up the street. The sound of drums rolled over them as a parade turned the corner. Out in front were a team of men marching forward, pounding on their drums in well-practiced rhythm. Behind them marched two men, each holding up a long poll supporting a banner. People on the street cheered and scurried to get out of the way as the parade made its way forward.

As Yazwa stepped back from the street she bumped into Aven. "A procession,” he said as the drums go so loud they could hardly hear each other talk. “At least this one looks short."

"Yeah," murmured Yazwa, watching the banners flutter in the breeze. One bore the image of a War Chuxa, spear raised high in the air. The other was of a Craft Chuxa, holding a hammer in one hand and a chisel in the other. She didn't recognize either of them, so they must have been different from the ones back home.

A weight settled in her stomach as memories of past processions played out in her mind. On holy days the parades were massive, with musicians and dancers and dozens of beautiful banners carried through the streets. When she was small, her father would carry her on her shoulders so she could see over the crowd and quiz her on which Chuxa was which. By the time she was ten she had memorized them all.

A boy wearing temple clothes ran up to her as the banners passed, smiling and holding out a wicker basket filled with coins. Yazwa tossed her change in and the boy said what she assumed was a thank you before he scurried off down the street. "Tanzel," Yazwa called, reaching up to trace a circle on her forehead.

"I hope he was actually part of the procession," Aven said as the sound of the drums faded. "Joining in with your own basket is a good way to make some quick coin."

Yazwa hardly heard him as she watched the procession turn a corner and disappear. The people on the street went about their business, and soon it was like the drummers and banners had never been there. "There has to be a way," she murmured.

"What?" asked Aven. "A way to do what?"

"To tell the Church about the blood achali we found on that black ship," Yazwa said, tapping her new staff on the ground.

Aven glanced around them and then seized her arm, dragging her into a nearby alleyway. "Are you out of your mind?" he hissed. "You can't say things like that out on the street."

"Let go of me," Yazwa snapped, pulling her arm out of his grasp. "Tsen told me those vials were full of blood. I know who it's being made by and who he's selling it to. If I tell them that, maybe they can find him and stop him."

"No," Aven said, looking up and down the alley to make sure they were alone. "No. If you go and tell a priest what you know, the first thing they're going to ask you is how you know it. Do you really want to answer those questions?"

Yazwa frowned, taking a step back from him and going deeper into the alley. "I'm not stupid, I know I can't just walk up and tell someone. But if...if I wrote a letter and had it delivered, maybe..."

Aven took a deep breath and ground his palm into his forehead. "There is no way that ends well. They'll either completely ignore it, or overreact and shut the harbor down until they find out who wrote the letter. This is not your problem to solve."

"How is it not?!" Yazwa shouted, before taking a deep breath of her own. "It's blood achali. You have to torture people to make it work! There's a reason it's forbidden, and there's a reason why the Chuxa hunt down anyone who practices it."

"Which is even more of a reason to not get involved," replied Aven, getting into her face. "We have enough to deal with without adding vengeful gods to the list. It's not safe out here. Doing the right thing will just get us killed."

Yazwa's eyes narrowed. "Then why did you help us?"

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Aven blinked, stepping back. "What do you mean?"

"In Channan Harbor," she said quietly, crossing her arms over her chest. "You helped me with Tsen when you didn't have to. You brought Ji back to the ship AND you helped me rescue Saiyun when the manor was on fire. If doing the right thing will get you killed, why did you help us?"

"It..." Aven said, trailing off and looking down.

"Rescuing Saiyun brought the Governor down on our heads, but we survived," Yazwa added. "Why am I the stupid one for wanting to do the right thing, but you're not?"

"Yazwa, we barely made it out of Channan Harbor alive, remember?" asked Aven, running his hand over his shaved head.

"But we did!" Yazwa said, her smile growing. "We survived! We barely made it out of Ortan and off that island too, but we did!"

"Are you going to risk all our lives so you can feel better?" Aven shot back

"No! That's not what I'm saying at all!" Yazwa stammered. What was she saying? Since when was barely surviving a good thing? "I just, I just have to tell someone about this."

"Do you have to do it now? While we're trying to track down an Akshi?" Aven whispered, pointing out of the alleyway.

"Well no. No, it doesn't. I just thought about it because...just never mind. Let's go find it." Yazwa replied, hurrying out of the alleyway with Aven close behind.

-

Saiyun let out a long sigh and watched his breath disturb the steam rising from his bathwater. After spending months aboard a cramped, disgusting pirate ship, a little hot water felt like paradise. He had to admit Adoti's baths stood up well against the ones he was used to. The room was a little cramped with barely enough room for the copper tub he was soaking in and the wooden tub of clean water. An open window hung with strings of clear beads let in light to the wood paneled room, decorated with pictures of a tree with bright red flowers. He pondered what kind of tree it might be and why a picture of it would be hanging in a bath.

A thought popped into his head and he sat up. Stretching to reach the picture on the wall he gently pulled it aside, relieved to see there was no secret passage behind it. Settling back into the water, he thought back on the long list of precautions Aven advised him to take before he went to the bath.

Don't bother buying soap or anything else there, it's all watered down and worthless. Don't leave your things alone in the lockers they provide, thieves have copies of the keys. Don't bring anything valuable into the bath with you, as there are panels cut out of the walls for people to reach out of and snatch anything worth any money while you're relaxing.

The only thing he brought into the bath with him was a comb and his tattered clothes, hanging on a hook over the bath. Ji was looking after his locker that held everything else.

Thinking of Ji, Saiyun realized he had no idea just how long he had been in the bath. He had done the polite thing and let Ji bathe first, but she had bathed quickly, and it would be rude to make her wait. Besides, the water was starting to get cold.

He stood and poured the last of the water over his head, stepping out of the tub and grabbing a towel. After drying himself off and redressing in his tattered shirt and striped pants, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Even though the bath had washed away months of grime, he hardly recognized himself. He was tanner, leaner, and worry lines criss-crossed his face. He looked like the sort of person who had to deal with demons in his everyday life.

Saiyun stepped out of the washroom and closed the door behind him. It still didn't seem real.

Akshi–and Korav for that matter–were the stuff of fireside tales and bedtime stories. They were things that kings and heroes dealt with, not bureaucrats.

It had been days since they finally passed customs and Bill only allowed a few people to leave the ship at a time. Before anyone was allowed back on board they had to be checked with a mirror and pray to an image of Riyao. The tales had always said that the eyes of someone possessed by an Akshi would glow when they look in a mirror and that they would fly into a rage when presented with an image of Riyao. He was honestly surprised to find it true. Saiyun made a mental note to see if Bill had any books on Akshi when he got back to the ship.

When he made it back to the lobby of the baths, the hairs on the back of his neck rose up. It was open air, covered by a large awning to block the heat of the sun. A wall of small, square lockers five high lined the front wall of the baths. Ji knelt in front of theirs, the picture of calm. On the other side of the lobby a man laid on a bench groaning and clutching his stomach. The woman sitting at the desk by the entrance looked away when Saiyun glanced at her. Something had happened.

"Is everything all right Ji?" he asked as he walked over to her.

"Yes," she said, rising up off her knees. "Did you enjoy your bath?"

"I did," Saiyun said, looking over his shoulder at the groaning man. "What happened to him?"

"He asked me to take a bath with him. He wouldn't stop asking until I hit him," Ji replied, pulling the key to the locker out of her pocket and handing it to him.

Anger and shame flashed through Saiyun. "I'm sorry," he said, taking the key from her. "I shouldn't have left you alone."

"Why?" Ji asked.

Saiyun sighed as he turned the key and opened the door, revealing his satchel and bronze headpiece. Ji had a knack for asking questions that made all his answers sound silly. He couldn't have done anything to stop the man and Ji was more than capable of looking after herself. "Nevermind. I'm just sorry that happened to you."

"It wasn't that bad. We always bathed together back home," Ji said, going silent while Saiyun tied his hair up into a high bun with his headpiece. "Would you be able to visit my Monastery?"

"What?" Saiyun asked as he slid the pin in to hold his hair in place.

"Once this is all over, would you be able to visit my Monastery?" Ji asked. "We've fought side by side. They'd let you in, right?"

Saiyun stared at her as he pulled his bag out of the locker and swung the door shut. "I'd love to be a guest in your home."

Ji shook her head. "I don't mean that. I mean...you're sailing with pirates and serving pirates. The kind of people we’re sent out into the world to fight. Would they let you in?"

"Just because I serve pirates doesn't mean I AM a pirate," Saiyun responded. "I'm out here for noble reasons, to clear my name so I can go home again. So are you, and so is Yazwa. Think about it. None of us have done anything wrong on this voyage. We ran for our lives in Ortan and were attacked without provocation on the island. The worst thing we've done is loot an abandoned ship. It doesn't matter who we're sailing with, so long as we're doing the right thing."

Ji held his gaze for a moment, then looked at the ground. "I didn't think this would be so...confusing," she said quietly.

Saiyun threw propriety to the wind and laid a hand gently on her shoulder. He knew how she felt.

Back home, he always knew it was bad out on the frontlines, but he hadn't expected it to be so terrible everywhere else. The Governor's corruption, the brutal sacking of Ortan, demons serving Azun, every day they sailed seemed to introduce him to some new horror.

"I know it's terrible out here and we've had to make some hard choices,” he said, “but I know everything will work out for the best."

Ji reached up and put her hand on his. "You're sure?"

He wasn't sure.

How could he be sure?

He wasn't even sure if he'd live until the end of the week, much less make it all the way home with some exploit that would exonerate him. But lying seemed like the right thing to do.

"Completely sure. We’ll make it work.”

“We will,” Ji replied, squeezing his hand and glancing at the scars on her arm. “If I can survive a duel with a Korav, I can survive anything.”

“Not so loudly,” came Aven’s voice suddenly.

Saiyun took his hand off Ji’s shoulder and whirled around to face Aven. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough to hear you talking about things you shouldn’t be,” replied Aven.

Ji hung her head. “I’m sorry.”

“She was just–” Saiyun started, before he caught the look on Aven’s face. His eyes were hard and cold and his mouth was pressed into a thin line. “You…you found the man from the ship, didn’t you?”

“I did,” Aven said with a short nod. “Yazwa’s keeping an eye on him while I came looking for you. Let’s go.”