Chapter 7

  Tanzeel’s Spear made landfall before Sannan woke up. Realizing he had overslept, Sannan hurriedly changed out of his smallclothes and washed his face at the washstand. He suspected it must have been that dream he had the night before; it was difficult waking up from a dream involving diving with lamp jellies. To his relief, his roommate (whose name he learned was Iftakar) somehow did not smell half as bad as he usually did. The large man was standing in the corner of the room trying to pick out something stuck between his teeth.

  Once Sannan had changed into a linen shirt and vest with loose fitting breeches tucked into his boots, Iftakar spoke up.

  “Took you long enough. Most of the crew have already made their way down to the city.” Upon reaching the deck of the ship, Sannan realized that most of the crew had changed into typical Sarhidian garb, with some even donning Induran robes. Considering these were pirates, it only made sense for them to present themselves as inconspicuous. That meant bright sashes and baggy breeches for the men; bandeau tops with asymmetrical skirts for the women. Captain Olberan himself was sparring with his first mate. His serpent spine blade clashed against her curved sword in a flurry of jabs and wide arcs.

  “They won’t be coming down. Their faces are simply too recognizable, and the same goes for the captain’s daughter.” Azala strolled over to Sannan, wearing a high necked white dress that looked plain with its lack of embroidery. He could only assume it was closer to what Valean women would wear.

  “It’s alright,” Sannan replied. “This is the Induran coastal city you mentioned earlier?”

  “Indeed,” Azala said. “I know some suppliers here who are likely to have what I need. It is just that most of the parts go for unreasonable prices. No doubt they were smuggled out of the High City.”

  Sannan smiled. “Well then, looks like this is going to have to be my first time pirating.”

  Thanks to one of the captain’s local connections, a Sarhidian trading vessel was procured for the crew. Out towards a small peninsula where none of the city’s watchtowers would see them, the disguised crew members made the switch to the trading vessel and sailed the rest of the way towards Esenbal’s docks. Esenbal was by no means a large city, but its position midway between the Zaran Kingdoms and Rashan made it a valuable stopping point for many trading vessels. Cargo ships carried spices, fruit, and a whole host of other valuable Ra’shalri commodities to buyers in the west. Around harvest season, the docks would have their hands full with a near constant flow of merchant vessels coming from both East and West. It only made sense that an additional dockyard was in the midst of construction directly to the east of where Captain Olberan’s crew landed. To Sannan’s delight, he managed to spot a few of the iron wrought ships that he came to associate with the High City.

  Towering buildings of white plaster loomed up ahead of the crew, topped with the distinctive gold dome spires that were common in Induran architecture. Under the sweltering sun, Sannan could not comprehend how the locals were able to put up with those flowing silk robes. The streets bordering the dock were crowded with people on a scale comparable to Port Besaar. While many of the people were familiar with those he had seen from back home, there were several distinct Induran clothing styles he had never seen before. Some of the women, for instance, wore two piece dresses in colors so bright he could not afford to stare at them for long. Several well dressed merchants wearing thick cloth wrappings over their heads were carried around by palanquins supported by teams of four muscular workers. One such palanquin was placed near the dock, where the merchant was escorted down before coming over to greet the crew. Tall even for Induran standards, the olive skinned man was stroking his well oiled pointed beard as he inspected the trading vessel. Without saying a word, he simply nodded before a couple of dockworkers arrived to unload the crates. Under the pretense of a merchant crew stopping by to deliver their wares, the disguised pirates split up into groups as they entered the city, with two staying behind with the ship.

  Azala was among the two who stayed behind, and she looked to Sannan expectantly as if waiting for him to conjure the items she needed out of thin air. After all that deliberation, it appeared he had to carry out her task all by himself. And so Sannan walked into Esenbal with no plan as to how he was to steal the items Azala needed once he located them. During their time on that merchant vessel, he was told the general locations of the largest markets in the city, in addition to the inn he would need to visit to gain access to the black market. Ah, I am sure I will think of something.

  The crowds in Esenbal were thankfully nowhere near as congested as those he recalled in Port Besaar. Qirlat dancers in flowing two piece dresses of the finest silk twirled gracefully for passerby, spinning the hanging ribbon threads on their arms to the beat of their bola drummer accompaniments. Hawkers in dull robes were crying their wares; carved jewelry and painted souvenirs were laid out on the carpets before them. On more than one occasion, Sannan noticed a large animal ridden by a merchant and burdened with burlap sacks tied on to a wooden fixture on the rump. Urphan had the build of a small elephant but with a stunted trunk of a nose and no tusks. Native to the rainforests of Rashan, they were the pack animal of choice for most Induran merchants. Tuahn had once wished for an urphan of his own for transporting fish when told of them by one of his clients.

  Most of the streets in Esenbal converged towards a central plaza, hosting what was said to be one of the largest fountains in all of Indura. Directly east of the plaza was the Vastayi Bazaar, which Sannan had singled out as his priority destination. All around the marketplace, intricately patterned awnings were drawn up to accommodate tables and stands neatly organized based on the items on sale. High wheeled carts were brought in by farmers from plantations up north, carrying a variety of produce ranging from sugarcane to cocoa beans. There were sections designated for clothing, furniture, and even exotic pets, but Sannan was particularly interested in an area towards the far right of the bazaar. A small collection of tables were set up, displaying machine parts and tools sorted by price.

  In an attempt to avoid drawing attention, Sannan crouched down behind an empty barrel several feet in front of the part sellers. Most of the common folk did not pay them any mind, but he considered those items worth more than gold. Gleaming a metallic silver, the Ardas driver was the most expensive item on sale, with the bevel gears being the cheapest. The closest man to the table was an old man with a leathery face and wispy tufts of hair sticking out the back of his head. Unless there was a customer interested in his wares, he contented himself with reading a worn out book. Considering there were too many prying eyes at the marketplace, Sannan decided to wait for someone else to purchase the items he wanted before stealing from them. Ideally, said customer would buy up all the needed parts, but the plan was still a gamble.

  Minutes passed by which seemed to stretch on for hours, and while a few passerby glanced over at the machine parts, none approached to buy anything. In a fit of impatience, Sannan went over to another nearby fruit section to buy himself a banana before returning to his crouching spot. He could tell the fruit was ripe, as the flavor alone made every other banana he recalled eating taste dull in comparison. Just when he was starting to fear someone might spot him behind the barrel, a diminutive merchant lugging a comically large backpack on her shoulders approached the storefront. She almost reminded him of a soldier beetle rolling around dirt several times its size.

  “Ah, Dashim, you finally stocked up on an Ardas driver!” The girl spoke in a high pitched voice that was harsh on Sannan’s ears.

  Dashim chuckled, “now, now Neheri. If you want the driver you would have to pay full price for it. This is not going to turn out the way it did last time.”

  “Are you sure about that?” Some items were dropped onto the table for the old man to see, but with that ridiculous backpack, Sannan could not see what it was.

  Whatever the item was, the old man’s eyes nearly jumped out of their sockets.

  “How in the name of the Gods do you always get a hold of these seeds?” Dashim cradled a large seed darker than an old oak in his hands as if it were a newborn baby.

  Neheri was cackling like some imp from a children’s tale. “What do you say? These seeds in exchange for everything you have laid out on this table.”

  The flustered old man was twitching his fingers nervously. “Gah! How can I refuse?” Sannan was likewise feeling quite startled. He was desperate to know just what kind of seeds would be more valuable than an entire stock of machine parts.

  “Oh, Pavas,” the tiny merchant called. A heavyset man with his deep black hair done up in a braid ran up to Neheri’s side and gave a precise bow.

  “Load up all the items here,” Neheri instructed.

  “Of course, of course.” Every part was shoved into Neheri’s backpack within the course of a few minutes.

  “A pleasure doing business with you,” she said to the old man before departing. Dashim already had the seeds stashed in a leather sack and was guarding it fiercely. As it turned out, Neheri had a few more market stands to stop by as Sannan continued to trail her. All the while the sun cast down a relentless heat haze that made the weather in Port Besaar feel cool in comparison. Sannan dabbed his forehead with a cloth napkin as he followed Neheri towards a nameless two story inn. Though he yearned for a drink, Azala had only provided him a limited allowance of tokens. Thankfully, those were just as accepted in Esenbal as the Induran rupi. A flute player in ragged clothes sat on a stool just outside the inn, playing a cheerful tune as passersby occasionally dropped coins into a pail by his side.

  From the moment Sannan entered the inn, he already appreciated just how different the style was to the ones he was used to back home. Decorative murals of crystalline glass covered the walls and evoked the feeling of dining out at a rainforest. The vine-like patterns on the glass appeared to twist depending on the angle at which they were viewed. Rather than a single bar, there were multiple buffet tables set up against the walls. Round bowls of spices, goat curry, salac sauce; the scents came together in an exotic yet harmonious blend. Entranced by the food, Sannan slowly realized there were not many patrons at the inn despite the high end accommodations. He turned to see a round faced innkeeper smiling back at him from behind a counter.

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  “No soliciting unless you have paid for your stay,” the woman said with her eyes closed and a smile on her face.

  “Yes, my apologies,” Sannan replied nervously. That fixed smile was quite unsettling. For the sake of acquiring the parts, and the opportunity to try that delicious selection of Induran cuisine, Sannan dumped the remainder of his allowance for a night’s stay at the inn. A hasty decision for sure, but one that he hoped would pay off. Once he had finished paying, Sannan immediately helped himself to the free flow of food at the buffet tables, gorging himself like a starved animal.

  The goat was so tender it almost melted in his mouth, and the salac sauce tasted like nothing he had ever tried before. Mere words could not describe the sensation, but it had just the right level of spice to keep him wanting for more. A set of round oil lamps lit up the room, appearing as enchanted orbs to liven up a court of the Gods. It was not until Sannan had had his fill that he remembered his original purpose. Taking a brief look around the inn, he spotted Neheri’s backpack laid against her table. Pavas kept potential thieves away with his daunting presence; a fierce hound guarding his master’s loot. The large man was feasting on a leg of Avaari chicken, though the curved sword resting in its scabbard on his waist could always be drawn out in a pinch.

  What Sannan needed was a distraction, and after some deliberation, he knew exactly how to get Pavas away from that backpack.

  …

  “Hello there,” Sannan greeted Neheri’s bodyguard with a broad smile on his face. The sun was already setting, but inside the inn, there was no way to tell.

  “I hear your friend deals with some rare seeds. Mind if I take a look?”

  Pavas shook his head and laid out a request of his own. “What do you have to offer in exchange?”

  Sannan held out a balled hand and opened it, revealing a dull Lumix core as if it had materialized in his palm. Considering the trouble it took to walk to and from the docks where Azala was stationed, this plan had better work.

  To his relief, Pavas nodded and fished out a sack of seeds from the backpack. The instant they were given to Sannan for inspection, the young man bolted out the inn’s front door at a dead run.

  “Why you!” Pavas got up from his chair and chased Sannan outside, where he saw his target was already two blocks down the street pushing past the crowd. Gritting his teeth, Pavas charged down the street and narrowly avoided running into an urphan carrying a pair of Ostravan tourists on its back. The startled beast tossed its head and snorted while Pavas continued the chase. Sannan rounded a left turning corner leading into another street, but when his pursuer followed suit, he tripped. Pavas fell forwards onto the pavement, bracing himself with his arms at the last minute. By the time he stood back up, Sannan had already disappeared into the crowd.

  “Bloody thief,” Pavas cursed under his breath. Little did he know Sannan meant to loop around the row of buildings by way of the back alleys. Though narrow and clogged with waste, they provided the means to sneak back towards the inn. To minimize the risk he would be recognized going back in, Sannan prepared a change of clothes and fashioned himself with one of the thick cloth wraps Induran merchants often wore. Once back inside, he immediately attempted to rummage through the backpack while making as little noise as possible. Gods above, let that man remain outside as long as possible. Sannan froze in terror when his hands stopped an inch short of reaching the backpack cover.

  Thin vines wrapped around his wrists like a pair of manacles, and they tightened the more he tried to twist his way out of them. That familiar cackling sound filled Sannan’s ears as Neheri approached him, her eyes glowing a verdant green.

  “I would not just leave my goods unguarded, young man. If you want to obtain anything in my inventory, you will have to pay good coin for it.” She had the smug expression of a merchant who had just made a profitable bargain at someone else’s expense.

  On closer inspection the girl was no older than he was, but the top of her head only came up to his chest. Her dark hair was cut short and faded to an olive green at the edges. Similarly, her cap and vest were colored in shades of green accented by gold scrollwork.

  Sannan tried his best to suppress his frustration. Of course he should have foresaw this as a potential problem, but now his hands were literally tied. Those vines were suspended from shimmering green energy particles emitted from Neheri herself. Something did catch Sannan’s eye though: a bejeweled earring whose emerald core glowed just as brightly as the merchant’s eyes.

  “Sorry to say that I just spent my entire allowance just to enter this blasted inn.” Sannan shrugged and gave her a modest grin.

  Neheri beamed in response, “ah, it’s alright. You can take whatever you want. Just know that you will owe me a payment that needs to be met by a certain deadline.”

  Truth be told, Sannan was feeling apprehensive. “And if I do not meet this deadline?” The vines abruptly loosened their grip on his wrists and dissipated into energy particles.

  “For one, it is a generous deadline. I, Neheri, am known for being a reasonable merchant. And if the deadline is not met, I will just have to hunt you down and force payment out of you one way or another.”

  Despite the merchant’s cheerful tone, Sannan was not eager to find out what she would do to him to take back payment for a loan. All of a sudden, Pavas dashed through the arched doorway entrance and fixed him with a hateful glare. In his hand was the crumpled banana peel that was dropped on the ground to trip him during the chase. Sannan yelped and hid behind Neheri’s backpack as if it were the wall of a fortress. All the while the other inn patrons steered clear from the brewing situation, content to fixate on their own business.

  “Now, now Pavas, there is no need to get so worked up,” Neheri said placidly. “This young man here just wants to inspect my goods.”

  Surprisingly, Pavas simply nodded in assent and sat down on the table to resume his meal.

  “I will take the Ardas driver, as well as all those other items you purchased from… what was his name again… Dashim.” Well, so much for becoming a pirate. What kind of pirate bargains for their loot? In any case, Sannan clung to the vain hope that he would one day accrue enough tokens to pay back the merchant.

  “Oh, those. I will have to charge you the original asking prices, which would tally up to… one thousand seven hundred ninety two gold tokens.” Neheri nodded to herself as if confirming her mental math.

  Sannan’s eyes widened upon hearing those numbers, and he shook his head vigorously. “On second thought, you can keep the machine parts.”

  As he turned to head out the door, Neheri called after him. “Wait! Since this is your first purchase from me, I can offer a discount.”

  It was astonishing how generous this merchant was, given he had just tried to steal from her. He turned back around and nodded.

  “I’m listening.”

  “As a bundle deal, I can charge one thousand seventy five tokens, forty percent off!” Neheri flashed a smile and channeled elemental energy into her earring. Sets of vines sprouted from thin air and fetched a sheet of parchment for Sannan to sign, as well as a quill and ink jar.

  “I always keep records of my transactions so I know who owes me what,” Neheri explained in a matter-of-fact tone. To his embarrassment, Sannan had no formal signature, and ended up having to scribble something random on the document to save face.

  “A pleasure doing business with you,” Neheri said cheerfully as she fed the document to a strangely patterned frog, resembling a carved statue to be sold by a peddler. Sannan did not even notice her summoning it, but it was composed entirely of elemental energy from the way it glowed.

  “Once you are ready, just feed the payment to Isfan. He will be able to sense when it is ready.” Her amphibious friend let out a croak before dissipating as quickly as the vines did earlier. Truly an anomaly, Sannan thought as he left the inn, to find such a forgiving merchant.

  …

  Azala was tapping her left foot impatiently by the time Sannan arrived back at the docks with the machine parts in tow. Without a word, she took the sack of parts from him and inspected them all individually.

  “Impressive, that you were able to steal all these,” Azala commented as she turned the Ardas driver over in her hands. Near spherical in shape, fine channels were etched onto the metallic surface, all interconnected and centered around a divot at the center. “There are still one or two items I would want, but I am not expecting you to obtain them at Esenbal. The sun is setting, and the captain will be sailing back out to sea by first light tomorrow.”

  Color flushed Sannan’s cheeks. “Actually, these were not stolen. Well, I tried to steal them, but I was caught.”

  There was no disappointment evident on Azala’s face, to his relief. Instead she inquired, “the Lumix core I lent you?”

  Sannan had the faint orb dug out from his waistcoat pocket, and handed that over as well.

  “I take it then that you owe someone for these items?” Azala now had the Ardas driver placed back in the sack and had two of the bevel gears connected perpendicularly. They were promptly installed into an engine block she had on hand.

  The encounter with the merchant was described in detail, including the sum of tokens he now owed.

  “She did not give me the exact deadline,” Sannan muttered. “Just that it was generous.”

  “That I’m afraid you will have to work out yourself. But for all your trouble, I will begin teaching you starting tomorrow.” Azala offered a condoling smile. “Just be thankful that the merchant did not expect you to pay everything upfront. Now, take a look at this.”

  From the sack of parts she had hanging from a loop in her belt, Azala withdrew a rectangular panel that was etched with channels in similar fashion to the Ardas driver. Embedded near its center was a smooth prism that felt cold to the touch when Sannan placed a finger on it.

  “What you are looking at is the mother circuit that is central to the working function of a simple Kamera. And this,” Azala pointed to the prism. “This is a Luxin prism. Arguably the most important component of the mother circuit, crafted by the artisans of Valar long ago.” A touch of pride entered her voice as she spoke of her nation.

  It was truly astounding how that unremarkable prism held the key to capturing the fantastical sights of Etheria; to capture cherished memories with friends and loved ones.

  A gruff voice spoke up from behind Azala, “time to head back to the ship.” The squat pirate lowered his voice. “Our actual ship that is.”

  Azala nodded to her crew mate before turning her attention back to Sannan. “You booked a night at that inn to get to that merchant, correct? Well, you’ll certainly be sleeping better than me tonight.” She chuckled softly before following the disguised pirate back to the merchant ship. Once the vessel sailed back to that small peninsula, Sannan was sure they would discard it with its purpose having been served. As for how he was going to get back onboard Captain Olberan’s ship…

  With the last light of the sun dwindling beyond the horizon, Sannan was in the mood for a long night’s rest at that inn. By no means was he in the mood for planning his way out of Esenbal.