Chapter 45: Uvi Jantok!

Ah, the capital city of Periatus. Where you will get stabbed, mugged, and shot within the first twenty four hours or your money back!

“On three. One, two, three!” Bolato chanted, as the whole team got behind the wagon and pushed together.

“Put your back into it!” Skaldi groaned out, facing away and pressing his body against it instead of just his hands.

“That’s how… you hurt your back… Skaldi.” Florato said between breaths.

“Whatever. Put your groin in, your dick, or you pussy into it! I don’t care, just push!”

“What if I-I don’t have a pussy?” Vega raised her hand, unexhausted by the effort.

“Then push!”

“Ya got it!”

Truly the height of Iozian society…

The harbor, in all intents and purposes, sported the likeness of a wooden village. Two buildings were made of secure stone and mortar, that being the lighthouse and the local bath.

Beside that, the city next to it shared a rural atmosphere, a pervasive rusticity. Like it was a place in the countryside, secluded from the non stop movement of urban life. Most people walked and of the few wagons or carts that were seen were being operated by crews of sailors and richmen. Despite the city being so close, specifically three hundred feet away, the team was roughly an hour away.

Yet, there was a sadness to the harbor. Not in disrepair or the people, although some sailors looked to be in dumps. There were only five ships in port, four of the five being military galleys. A single Kai Ren treasure ship with arrows sticking out of it was there. In the waters outside there were small fleets of fishing boats but nothing that could travel great distances. To all of them, it felt lonely.

Like all of Uvi Jantok had been deserted.

“Nice gear you got there tarangs.” A white hair mustached man spoke to them, brushing his hair that resembled a cloudy string on his head. Skinny to the bones, his eyes sunk in his head like a crab in sand. “How the hell you get past the blockage?”

“Nymph lady!” Vega hoped and ran to the face of the man, causing him to recoil backward.

“Right…”

The rest of the party took this as their chance for a break. Most of them slumped on the ground while Bolato remained standing. Breathing in for a couple of seconds, he prepared to talk.

“Wait, what do you mean blockade?” Bolato took his hands off the wagon and walked to the side of him. “Do you mean the bandits?”

“Nope, but the bandits are helping. The Tripolians have this whole place surrounded.”

“Ha! Old man must have lost it.” Skaldi shook his head, not believing such an outlandish story. Florato too chuckled, joining the redhead in the natural reaction at that idea.

“That’s nonsense.” Florato got up and wiped the sweat from her skin.

“Must be a poor comedian.” Skaldi added.

“I’m not joking tarang! What? You lose your sense of manli-”

“Hold it.” Bolato blocked the oldman, towering over him. “Speak about the blockade. Don’t insult him.”

“...alright. The Tripolians have us surrounded, that’s what the orators say.”

“I find that hard to believe. I’m part of the navy.” Bolato gave two taps to his navy badge and his mermaid badge, slightly impressing the old man. “I was trained here, in the Yutai Basin. And I distinctly remember Uvi Jantok had over a hundred ships. We shouldn’t be surrounded.”

“Your right striker brother, we shouldn’t.” He stepped on top of a barrel and raised his fist out to a section of the city. Barely visible behind the black wall, there too was a harbor. However, it was packed with ships of every type of military use. Ones to transport and ones to battle, all were behind that black wall.

“The hell?” Bolato’s relaxed attitude took a hit, puzzled by the discovery.

“The hell indeed. The last ships from Fort Jao came was… two weeks ago? Can’t quite remember, but that’s when the guards from there came here. The ships… eight days? And the day after we were told the Tripolians had blasted through our own navy. And the rest…”

“Wow. The Oligarch is a dumb piece of shit.”

“Don’t say that sonny.” The old man scurried up to him, darting around throwing his hair around. Bolato snapped his fingers and his eyes closed, remembering the city’s rule.

“Sorry.”

“What? We can’t talk shit about the fucker here?” Skaldi rotated his head side to side, not keeping in mind his volume.

“No you can’t! I know you a tarang, but you have to know about the shadow watchmen.”

“What watchmen? You never said anything about watchmen.” Skaldi seized up, finally taking caution. There weren’t too many people around the harbor, only one crew of sailors unloading the treasure ship. For every two crates of goods they unloaded, a body impaled by an arrow was brought out and laid onto a black sheet.

“That really is… true.” Florato stumbled briefly at the sight, holding her mouth in shock. Valiato and Amir held her stable, not wanting to repeat the event they had with the dead wagon man.

“If you folks react like that to a body, you’re not going to survive here. Be it the watchmen or the bandits.”

“We can deal with bandits. Guards, sure. But watchmen?” Skaldi paced back and forth. To every Iozian, there was a strict hierarchy of military personnel. There was the humble guard, the soldiers of a legion, the centurion leading those soldiers, and then the watchmen. Anything higher up would be positions you would have to be of upper class background to achieve.

“Don’t worry about that right now.” Bolato stopped him, forcing Skaldi to bump his head into his chest.

“Don't worry about it?” Skaldi opened his mouth to speak but nothing but a tired groan came out. “Fine. We’ll talk about it later.” He turned away in a sour attitude.

“Don’t be-be like that. We just pulled off some pretty insane stuff yesterday” Vega laid her elbow on Skaldi’s shoulder, leaning on the elf. “Plus, we should get our footing in a place we can rest.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Sweetie, you got any ideas?”

“I didn’t grow up here, I was trained here. The Yutai Basin is only ten miles north. Sir, you wouldn’t happen to know anyone with some animals?” The soldier approached the old man. He scratched his string haired head and nodded.

“Yeah. I know a guy, and he’s me. Ruiato Ng is the name, and if you tarangs follow me, I might be able to sell some travel beasts.” He cracked his back and herded the team over to a big rectangle of a building not too far from the cart. Amir signaled to Bolato that he’d stay and protect it.

Opening a gate that belonged more to a barn house than a harbor, Ruiato gestured to corners of the building. Two clerks managed desks and shelves and two soldiers stood at the gate. One corner had horses, the other a single century. The corner at the end had a particular strange yet strong animal. Long leathery reptiles with mustled snouts. Spotted amphibious creature.

“Crocodiles? Never knew you could use one for a cart.”

“That ain’t a crocodile. The Thrakian sea is just a big freshwater lake.” Ruaito wildly swung his head on each pronunciation of the word.

“I know that. But I don’t know the difference between the two. I work with more centuries and horses. But…” Bolato paused, seeing the puny nature of the animals he had. Not that he was paying attention, the old man had sunken cheeks, as if he too was starving. And yet, the alligators seemed to be the only animal fitted enough to pull the wagon.

“Alligators will do.” He pulled out six gold coins, the last coins he had on his person. “Will this do for two alligators?”

“You use gold? Been awhile since I’ve seen gold. Must be rich.” Ruaito bowed his head quick and pocketed the money. In just as quick time, he brought over two alligators and their rope.

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“Let’s just say we came into some money back in Core Civitus.” Bolato winked at him, wanting to play the part of a seasoned professional. Taking the rope in his hands, he kneeled to the faces of the alligators. Testing their reactions to his touch, they responded with domesticated snoring. “These will do.”

“Don’t think of robbing us sir-sir.” Vega told happily. Tilting his head in response, the old man smiled in the way that speaks reassurance. Like he can trust a person.

“Not even planning on it. Got me a bunker out by the gambling den from all my exploits. Gonna ride this blockade out.”

“Any good booze there?” Skaldi’s hand brushed his hair back, finally revealing his eyepatch to Ruiato’s view. Making an O shape with this mouth, the oldman felt a bit ashamed.

“Nah elf man. Tea is cheap and plentiful, but all the wine and good stuff are behind those walls. Beer is all your getting here.”

“About those wall-walls, how do ya get past them?” Vega pulled out the map from out of her jacket, dropping bits of hay on the ground.

“She is talking to me, right?” The old man tilted his head again at her.

“Yes. And it's best to answer her question.” Florato chuckled, in slightly higher spirits than she was before. Yet, there was a twinge of fear in her voice.

“Then I wouldn’t know, weird lady. Hell, I don’t know anyone here that’s been past those walls, but I’ve heard rumors.”

“Thanks for the help anyway.” Bolato bowed and headed back to the wagon.

“If you folks need a place to hang out later, just come back. I got some good gaming spots.”

“Got it. Have fun old dude-dude.”

Road was slick and clean, and the statues of all the Oligarchs of Periatus posed there, like it was a fashion runway. Between the wooden houses, this road was paved with concrete.

This city had a glowing brightness to it. The reason for that was the tiles on the rows were ceramic yellow. Packed together tightly, the buildings hugged and touched, melting their yellow forms together. As the saying goes, ‘Yellow is the favorite color of the Oligarchs of Periatus.”

The strip (Ha!) of the road showed an unbroken line of seaside resorts and, much to my own surprise, poor people could hang out there!

“What are you doing, taking up the whole road you fucking fat ass bitch. You can go a lot faster than that, actually! Stop going on the fucking grass you stupid bitches!” Fortunately for the team, Florato’s rightful complaints managed to move the slow pace of the street a lot faster, as now more people headed off to the sandy coast.

Beaches were the community hubs of every faction. Criminal and legal. Familial and lonely. Dumbs and dumbers. With an almost tear jerking beauty, these beaches seemed to be the only thing anyone could agree on, since everyone hadn’t carved their own sections out.

And yes, dear student, there were plenty of butts and boobs in bikinis. Hell, two leotard wearing thugs were fighting a couple yards away from them.

Yet, the look of the average person in Jantok, at least to Vega, seemed a bit off. Not that their clothing revealed more or that their hair was combed straight or that they were more tanned.

A notice of a subtle thing in the face and side of their ribs. Faint indents, like the skin was being sucked in. The common shapes of muscle were smaller. Perhaps to a tourist, they’d seem very normal. But to one with a keen eye, famine had started to stain, if weakly.

In Uvi Jantok, you could almost forget that the rest of Iozia was going through a famine. Almost…

As for those deceased men, their names like Daius, Gaius, and Faius appeared on placards of their statues. They all looked handsome and masterworked. Unlike the statues found in cathedrals and temples, these statues had paint. Lifelike as if they were frozen. Driving by a more recent Oligarch statue, three artists protected by ten men were repainting the statue of Oligarch Naius.

These ten men of not ordinary armaments, but of long purple robes in similar dark violet armor. There is a reason for the phrase ‘born in the purple’. Those reasons are the Purple Heart and the watchmen. Dyes of purple are extremely rare and the process is a secret locked behind a hundred doors.

“Move along. Move along.” One of the watchmen pushed a homeless woman aside, sending her falling back. No one bothered to aid her, as it's best not to disturb the watchmen.

“Good morning soldier.” Another of them had noticed Bolato’s set of badges and spoke with faint impressment. His helmet was a cone with a kettle like brim around it. The watchmen spoke behind bronze chainmail, making his voice muffled.

“You as well. You wouldn’t know where the flower district is, would you?” Bolato asked. The watchmen noticed both Amir and Valiato, in clearly Tripolian clothing. However, he too noticed their badges and hummed as he looked at them. Summarizing that they were mercenaries of some kind, he didn’t argue.

“Indeed. Continue on the road and when you see the statue of Tauis, turn left. It isn’t far.”

“Thank you.” Bolato started the crocodiles up again and continued on the road.

Amir had been tying Valiato’s gloved hand with a belt. He didn’t want another incident like the clerk in Vein Xinyuai.

“~Don’t reveal your scar to anyone.~” Amir whispered close to her and Valiato gave a wink to him.

“So guys, we’re getting pretty close to one-one of Kaliber’s towers. And also a place called… Gambler city?”

“Gambler? Isn’t it called Flower?” Bolato called out from the front of the wagon. Laying out the map she had gotten on the floor of the wagon, Florato gasped at its crude look. “You alright? Did Florato see another dead person?”

“No! It’s just… uhh…”

“It’s just-just unofficial.”

“What?” Bolato turned to see.

Vega’s map of Uvi Jantok wasn’t of Oligarchic authority. While the map itself had the craftsmanship of a proper cartographer, the writing was near gibberish levels of unreadability. Unreadable except for Vega.

“That ‘gayam blurr sit tyy’ means gambler city.”

“Wait, I never heard of Uvi Jantok being divided.” Skaldi joined in, noting the disturbing revelation.

“Maybe… its because of gangs?” Florato suggested, noting the title by the harbor.

“The port ‘Buux ah ish’ means Boxer Fish sounds like a-a gang name.”

“Yeah you're right.” Skaldi snapped a finger at her. Uvi Jantok was unofficially separated in several places. Silker city, Tea City, and Gambler city were all locations on the map. The only official separation of Uvi Jantok was the wall.

That wall, that black wall. The division of the twin cities. That of Uvi Jantok Sky and Uvi Jantok Rock. Separating the disgusting poor versus the never can be wrong rich folk!

Sadly, a story that so often needs repeating. Not because it is a good one, but that we hope that we never have to tell it again.

“Things are a lot more-more interesting now. Are we close to the tower yet?”

“Almost. One more minute.” Entering into the Gambler City, the reason for the name became very clear to them. Wide and low, no buildings exceeded over three stories and most kept to one. There were no visible watchmen or guards here, only soldiers and outlaws. Whenever you looked, there were either dice games or card games being played, with piles of copper being wagered.

The soldiers wore their belts and studded sandals, making them standout from the shoe wearing crowd. Bandits however, stood out in their difference to attire.

The bandits of Uvi Jantok weren’t your typically bearded and unkempt bastard. Clean shaven and of well fitted fashion, they looked closer to a Matigas Na Tao aristocrat rather than a plebian. However, their fashion was cheaper and featured the swag and items carried by all bandits. Short swords on their belt and shiny tin rings.

Shouts and cries over these games were common. Compared to the harbor, this place seemed to be the most comfortable. It wasn't quite like death. The silence in the city speaks volumes about its happenings. Dice and yelling made this section alive, as if the world outside was rotting.

Everyone kept their eyes high in the sky, not wishing to draw the attention of the bandits. All except Vega, who of course, couldn’t resist greeting them.

“Hello! You look very cool!” She shouted at a bandit with dyed blonde hair. His head craned back, too bewildered by the fact a scarecrow spoke to him to even attempt any action.

“Stop doing that Vega.” Skaldi said through his teeth.

“Okay, okay.” Passing by all sorts of places, Vega wondered. Wondered what Kaliber was doing here. She didn’t know who they were, only that she was referred to in the letters she keeps finding.

What did she look like? How did she move and speak? What was her relationship with Ena?

Looking upon the streets, Vega envisioned a shadow of a person. A friendly shadow that waved and joked with friends. Something she could identify with. Something that she was. Something that could explain her.

“Hey Skaldi?”

“Yes?”

“Who do ya think Kaliber is?” She joined him in looking up.

“Someone important, that’s for sure. I mean, from what I could understand, there was the word Oligarch on the deed, right?”

“Ya got it.”

“Then that means they had high connections. Maybe we can check for them in the library, or something.”

“Yeah… but that’s not what I really mean-mean.” Vega lowered her eyes, keeping a happy expression but becoming a tad more serious.

“How so?” Skaldi turned to her. “I mean, I don’t know what that name means to you Vega.”

“...ya have a family.” Vega chose the word family carefully, not wanting to remind him of painful memories. “And with family… there’s a place. There’s a people.”

“...and there’s history?” Skaldi understood where she’s coming from.

“I don’t really have one. The first memory I had was with the bandits then Cold Cavern. And the bandits said-said I showed up.”

“Well, you showed up in our lives. And definitely made things a lot more complicated.” Skaldi snickered, making Vega giggle as well. “But I get what you mean. Where you come from.”

“Yeah.” She answered, with a twinge of shame. Of course she couldn’t blame herself, but she wished she could have knew. It would have made the business with the Voice easier to deal with.

“You know what I think?” Skaldi shook her for a moment before she nodded at him. “I saw the word… ghost on that paper too.”

“Huh. That was on there.”

“If Kaliber had to be anybody, she’d be like you.”

“What? A scarecrow-crow girl?” Vega joked.

“No! I mean, maybe that could happen. She could be a fucking bird for all I care.”

“Bird-bird?” Kaliba croaked out.

“Kaliber is definitely not you and it's dumb to think that.” Skaldi was not in the head space to tolerate the bird.

“I think that’s a good theory. But it’s just a theory.”

“Listen.” Skaldi sat up and shook his fist at her. “She would be… someone odd. Someone different than most people. Hell, she might not even be a person. But, like Valiato, they have suffered a terrible thing. Not having a family.” Skaldi paused and looked back to the kid, who was enjoying the sights of this new place. Curious and alert her eyes were.

“Family…” Vega pronounced the word, as if savoring it like a cold meal.

“And yet, look at what she has. Look at how people talk about her. She was inflicted with a terrible pain and survived. If Kaliber is anything like that, she’d be a great person.”

“...I hope so.”

“Same here. Here’s hoping she’s got money.” Skaldi reclined back on the wagon, enjoying the sunlight on his skin. Vega looked down on him, taking his form in. He too had been wounded and pained by loss. And yet, he loved life. Faults and all.

She matters. She matters to me, Vega knew.

“I think… that’s the tower.” Standing up, she stood in awe at the size of the tower. Of course, the other buildings’ low height exaggerated this, but there was no denying the commanding nature of the tower. In the same pitch black the wall had, except a washed out blue in its windows and wooden doors.

A conical roof of reddish hue and black brick skin. The tower had no wooden buildings connected to it. Like they were backing away, the homes formed a circular exclusion zone around the tower. The scarecrow, stepping off the wagon with secure intent, admired the construction of the building.

A strange familiarity, like visiting an old home or situation. One that inspires nostalgia. Rather, nostalgia for a time you never knew.

“I will find ya. I’ll find ya Kaliber.”