Chapter 43: Barotrauma Break In

Peace in our time! Well, I hope this peace is real and can last… for more than five minutes. I’m betting for at least ten, maybe even eight.

“Ska, do we have matching scars now?” Valiato pointed down at him, her being held securely in Amir’s arms.

“I don’t know sweet pea. Which side did you get hit again?” Skaldi rested on some quickly moved crates, with Bolato and Florato nursing him with bandages and ointments. He slurred his words a bit, as he finally had an excuse to get blitzing drunk.

“Left arm. Still stings.”

“It's only been a day or two since ya got hurt. Should heal in a couple months though. Don’t ya worry.” Vega wiped Valiato’s nose, making her giggle a little bit. In these circumstances, the party was glad to be in bright spirits.

“If it's the left arm, then yes, we would have matching scars.”

“Speaking of that, we should all have scars then-then.”

“Vega, you’re a scarecrow. You would have… more stitches?” Valiato tried to think of a proper name for Vega’s repaired wounds.

“Difference being?” The scarecrow asked, rubbing her bandage nose.

“One is your body sews itself back together, the other your body is sewn back together.”

“Makes sense.” It made zero sense in Vega’s mind but she wasn’t here to argue. She was here to enjoy what she fought for.

“~What are you saying kid?~”

“~Oh. That Vega doesn’t have scars.~”

“~Don’t forget that scars exist not only in skin and bone.~” Amir too, in a better mood, imparted some sage wisdom to his daughter. He was so glad to do an act as lovely as teaching. Which reminded him of something. “~Valiato, I think it's time.~”

“Wow, Amir seems to be talking alot.” Florato noticed, tipsy as well so she couldn’t quite understand what the Tripolian was saying. “What is he saying kid?”

“That he wants to tell you his history.”

“Finally.” Bolato sat up, helping Skaldi sit up against one of the ship’s pillars. “How long have we waited again?”

“Fingers crossed if he has superpowers.” Skaldi chuckled in pain, having read a few extra pages of Bolato’s comics.

“That’s the idea.” The soldier scratch Skaldi’s head affectionately.

“Can ya tell us now-now?”

“Sure.” Valiato whispered to Amir, who kept his eyes wide open, half expecting them to show him venom and wrath. From his lips, he spoke of a great saga to Valiato. One that I will not translate, for that glory goes to the ghost girl. Speaking of his background, his relationships, and he had ended up here, Valiato felt a heavy weight on her shoulders.

Not that she hadn’t been told, but that she didn’t know what she had to say. Even handing over his journal, which featured appropriate illustrations and descriptions, she was at a loss of how to do it. So, she said it all.

“Ari Amir, of the former Clan Adildaque, the adopted son of a Patriarch. Having been a farmer in his youth, his life wasn’t easy. His mother disappeared in the hole of gambling and alcohol. And father remained, caring for him as best he could.”

“I see.” Florato could see Amir’s disposition shake ever so slightly. She saw how much he cared for his daughter at that moment.

“There wasn’t any opportunity in his home, so he had joined the army alongside his father, hoping to do his time and get money to start up his own farm. Eventually, they were sent into different armies. Amir… never saw his father again.”

The actress, wanting to comfort the two in this retelling of painful histories moved to Amir’s side and motioned for him to sit. As he sat, Florato picked Valiato up and sat her on her lap.

“He had faced the forces of Iozians in the defense of his home. Wherever he went, the Iozians pushed and conquered. His home, once a Tripolian glory, became a resort for Oligarchs. Soon, his rage would drive him to make a mistake.”

“What mistake? Doesn’t seem like him to make one.” Skaldi half joked, lighting up the mood. Valiato curled her lips for a moment then she continued.

“In a duel with a centurion, he had narrowly survived and beaten his foe. The experienced left him… emotionally scarred.” She paused, allowing the imagination of those who listened to ponder.

“At the age of twenty, he resigned from the army and set his path to becoming a hermit. Alone, but finally not being hurt no more, he found a bittersweet piece. No one to know him and no one for him to know. And yet, as he was living by the Raih Kcherzade mountains, he was approached by a man.”

“What man?” Vega scooted forward, suspecting a certain image, a certain voice to show himself.

“In armor that rivaled the centurion he fought, Amir at first thought it the wraith of the centurion he had killed. Instead, in the wispy of rocky dust, there was the Patriarch of a clever clan. Of the clan that had designed many weapons and plans that the Tripolians used.” Valiato kept her eyes cast to the ground and slowly raised them up at Vega. “The man… he was, Ani Arma.”

That’s ‘he’ with a capital H by the way.

“Shut up…” Vega said this in a hushed tone.

“It’s true.” Valiato spoke again, turning to Skaldi and Bolato. “Ani Arma, adopted him. Like he did to me, when no one else would have. Seeking a grand vizier to aid him and to remind him of the common man, Ani had him educated in all sorts of arts and technics.”

“Did he… did he have anything to do with the Snake Skins?” Bolato couldn’t help but to ask.

“No!” Valiato blurted, defending her father. “Sorry… I mean no. Ani Arma had treated him kindly, unlike any person had before, but… his true colors would show.”

“Ani Amra… I know you.” Vega spoke to herself, finally realizing who the Voice truly was. What did he want with her, she thought.

You will see in time.

“First, it started with his wife.”

“He had a wife?” Florato interrupted, tilting her head at the father daughter duo.

“Is that a bad thing, girlie?” Skaldi brushed his hair using his thumb and moved a hand to his hip.

“No. It doesn’t seem like him to have someone.” Florato finished, looking back down at Valiato.

“Yes. Ani Arma had forced him to marry the daughter of another clan. Galataii, the Lady striker.” As the kid spoke, Amir put to hands on his scarred eye, as if reminiscing the past in a mournful way. “Amir accepted this, not out of love for her, but for his father.”

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“Amir. I’m sorry.” Florato laid a hand on his shoulder, which he let her do before she pulled it back onto Valiato.

“Then, stuff started piling up. He had to attend meetings with other clan heads, and military officers. I don’t think I need to tell you that he doesn’t have a good relationship with either.”

“He had stayed for a lot time, right? What did he do?” Vega asked, hoping that what Valaito translated could reveal more about this Ani Arma.

“As he requested of Ani, his role was that of a scholar who observed from afar. Making books, writing histories, and teaching kids… like me. He only helped with expanding schools in the Empire, if that’s what you're asking.”

“Hmm. I thought him a mercenary type. How much was the bet again Skaldi?”

“Bola…”

“I’m kidding, kid. Please continue.”

“Ani put increasingly more responsibilities on him. First to advise Galataii during her practice drills, to change from teacher to military historian, and other bad jobs.”

“Anything with Gem Sacrifice?” Skaldi leaned forward, staring at Amir’s eyes, hoping that he wouldn’t have.

“No. Ani took care of the nasty stuff, but Ari was only his vizier. Until, one certain day. Amir had repeatedly begged not to do anymore of the tasks that were required of. Ani, with a soft voice, offered a way out. Finally, a chance to return to a simpler life, no more war.”

Vega and all the others kept their ears open and their ears ready to hear. On the edge of their metaphorical seats.

“Go to a marked Hahran grave, wait until night falls and then grab the gem stone on it. He went to the grave, and wondered how simple the task was. How would this get him out of the war? He did without a way to know what it would lead too.”

Bolato knew, and dreaded the moment. No one else did, but his imagination had already gotten to him. Like opening a birthday present a day before, it is sadly displeasing. Unhappy. Painful.

“He was invited to the Clan Fortress where Ani Arma had written to him that he had a most important opportunity. The Fortress was alone, not a servant or slave. Ani and Ari ate together and spoke of many pleasant things. Then, he held a charm of a gem, one of the very artifacts that Amir had recovered for Ani. It glowed with terrible power, and into the room entered… a Snake Skin.”

“No. He was tricked?” Florato turned to the wall, feeling the same shame that Amir had felt since the very day.

“Yes. He doesn’t know how, but that gem stone had something to do with the Snake Skin. Ani offered him a choice. Continue to study the Snake Skin and produce more Soul Gems, or be sunsetted. Amir gave him a third option, the bite of his daggers. The fight did not tell me much, but the scar speaks for itself.”

“Wow.” Florato’s hand went to her mouth. As an actress, she could properly see the whole life story. At that moment, Florato gave Amir a hug. He didn;t refuse, in fact, he gave her shoulder a light squeeze before releasing. “~I… can’t imagine how you feel.~”

“~No fault of my own. I had been tricked. My only sin was trusting a man who I thought cared about me.~”

“Huh. I had always suspected it. That Amir had too been a victim, or such. But wow, that prediction really doesn’t do it justice.” Skaldi clicked his tongue in his mouth. Building up an awkwardness in him, he rose to his knees, wincing a little. He laid a hand on Amir’s. When one learns the other is capable of pain, it is far harder to inflict it.

“Well. That was quite the story.” Bolato capped off the mood, handing everyone but Valiato and Vega a potted cup. “Thank you to all of you. I know the last couple weeks and certainly these last couple days have not been easy.” Bolato said while looking at Valiato. The actress reached out for a set of Desert Mirage that Skaldi stole from the Tripolians before they had left Tuivi’s Rest.

“And I personally know that I have done more.” Skaldi reached out his hand for the alcohol.

“What do you mean? You did a lot more than me.” Florato chuckled, taking a small jab at herself.

“That’s true.” Skaldi admitted, with the actress smacking her lips flicking his forehead. “I’m joking! But, I wish I could have done more. Well, hang out with you guys more.” He slowed down, rubbing Valiato’s head briefly. The elf could not wait to resume having fun without the air of death behind them. Finally, he could enjoy his friends.

“I kind of wished I listened to Amir, but then again…”

“There’s nothing you could have done there kid.” Bolato shut down her line of thinking. Amir noticed this and gave her a reassuring nod.

“Plus, we might have been chopped up if you didn’t stay. I just wished you didn’t have to do that.” Florato hugged her tight, like a kid holding a stuffed animal. She loved this girl dearly, even if she was a ghost.

“Yeah… but I feel better that we got out of there safe and sound.”

“So let’s celebrate. To our survival!” Bolato raised his cup, as all the others did. Skaldi, Bolato, and Florato chugged their Mirage quickly as Amir threw the liquid over his shoulder. He wasn’t one for the rum. When the three of them finished, their faces were all apple red.

“Whoo! I thought Iozian rum was strong, but this is hitting places that I didn’t know could be hit. Geez!” Bolato shouted, not adjusting his volume.

“You know, Sabere was right. This shit is to die for.”

“Don't you still have a swear counter?” Florato asked aloud.

“Amir changed that when she turned fourteen. Didn’t you ask for that as your birthday present?” Bolato spoke to the kid.

“Yep! Best birthday present I ever got.”

Vega wished to remain silent. Not because she felt like she didn’t belong to these folk, or that she was a pathetic thing compared to them. She considered all that she was. No nerves to be nervous, no system to disable and here she only a couple months after she had left had experienced the wonder of emotion.

Not a humble servant to their glory, but here, she wasn’t an outsider. Not a girl with no ability to understand. Not an oddity to be observed and taught. Here she was, in an ephemeral tremor within her soul.

She didn’t wish to thank the Voice, for the Voice had nothing to do with it. She made the steps, spoke the words, and took the actions that helped put these people together. In her soul, she had but two things to say.

“Thank ya for taking care of yourself. And thank ya all for being with me”.

Tremble!

The ship shook to the side for a moment, causing Skaldi to spill the Mirage all over himself.

“Ahh, I just got this… wait, when was the last time we all had a bath?”

“I could really use-use a bath-bath.”

“Huh. Must be a squall.” Bolato said, looking out to the stairway to the upper deck.

“Seagull?” Kaliba chirped.

“No. It’s when some wind hits a boat suddenly and moves it. Could be the sign of some wind that might put us off course. Nothing to be worried about, should be fine if one of us takes down the sails.”

“Is that bad?” Valiato asked.

“No. So long as we put the sails back up when the wind picks up, we shouldn’t worry about being caught. You wouldn’t mind doing that Vega?” Bolato motions her to the main deck.

“You got it! I’ll be back in a minute.” Vega saluted and walked up the stairs. Reaching out for the door, she had realized that it unlocked. In fact, Bolato had locked it when they had started celebrating six minutes ago.

“Huh. Right…”

The stars sparkled in the celestial heavens, with no clouds to obscure. The yellow spores of Tuivi’s Rest were several miles away. And all the pain and triumph gone with them.

She could feel it. In her fibers and her wooden parts. She was getting close. On the brink of a great discovery. Uvi Jantok, the destination of the party, was only a day away. Along with the Lai Bank, the great jewel of the Oligarchy.

“Huh. Never robbed a place before. We'll never robbed a place-place on purpose.” Keeping her mind actively while she reefed the sails, she spoke about all the events that had transpired. If she could walk towards the Voice’s origins and what the name Kaliber meant to her, she believed it a few steps away. “Wonder what Ren is doing. Maybe I should ask for it…”

Finishing her job, she jumped back down to the main deck. Resting her head on the ship’s balcony, she took off her hat and laid it on her chest. The moon was in perfect view, a milkdrop of weak yet beautiful peace. What emerged was a delicate peace. Half a perfect crescent, the other a burning flame of white. A muse for her soul. What inspired her.

“The moon…”

“The moon is pretty tonight.” That wasn’t her voice. She lifted her gaze and saw a shadow. Not a shadow of a person, but a shadow person. The person looked like her. A bastardization of her. A foul copy.

Then she realized it. The flare, the flare wasn’t meant to alert Runtaii or Sabere! But this shadow.

“Who are ya?”

“...The fifth Assassin.” The shadow swirled around in a helix, shifting and melting before assuming what could only be known as her base form. A young fighter, with spiked black hair in pigtails and white skin the color of sea foam. Her eyelashes were… uneven and lopsided. Her outfit was indeed, that of Sabere’s.

An awful burn scar that exposed her teeth showed a terrible grin. This elf was a ghost of the past.

“Want to see a magic trick?” Pulling a black ball from her pouch, a pearl fuse came out of the ball. Igniting it, she threw the bomb down at Vega’s feet!

“Skaldi! Everyone! There’s a-”

FAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATOMB!

Then, a blinding white. The scarecrow had been knocked out.

Damn it! The peace only lasted for seven minutes. Well… there’s always next time.