Valor and Violence

Ferez opened his eyes, his face contorting in a massive yawn that gave way to a sigh of utter contentment. He turned his head to gaze out the window of his tower. The early morning sunlight washed over the Six Cities and into his bedroom, bringing with it a cool sea breeze that caressed his body.

The bed sheets were on the floor, along with his clothes and the items from his desk that had been swept aside to make room at some point last night. He turned his gaze upwards again, shifting his free arm to rest behind his head, enjoying the cavalcade of little strains and bruises rippling through his body as they protested the movement. His self-satisfied smile turned into a puzzled frown when he noticed what looked like a smudgy footprint on the ceiling. How on earth had they managed that?

His movements disturbed Ingrid, and she started with a sharp inhale before gazing up at him through bleary eyes. She gave him a warm smile and settled her head back onto his chest, drifting quietly off to sleep again. Ferez planted a gentle kiss on the top of her head and relaxed back into his pillow, closing his eyes as well. He wouldn’t sleep again, once he woke up for the day, that was that, but he could lie here and enjoy the moment for a little while longer.

*

He finally shuffled out of the room an hour later, a steaming mug of coffee in hand. Giving Ingrid a parting kiss at the door, he left her to get dressed as he descended the spiralling stairs into the college proper. His final destination was the Salazaar docks, but he poked his head into the dining hall on his way, as he had done every day since their return from the Widow’s Wail. He stood by the door, sipping the piping hot brew as his eyes scanned over the heads of the next generation of hopeful mages. Spotting his quarry from her hair colour was out of the question for obvious reasons, but he still found her quickly all the same.

She was at a table by herself, just as she had been every day for the week since they arrived. A few other students had tried to introduce themselves on day one, but she had sent them scurrying away within the minute. He sighed and walked over, pulling up a chair across from her. Instead of acknowledging his presence, she flipped a page in her book while absentmindedly spooning eggs into her mouth.

“It’s so cute when you do that thing,” he said after a few seconds.

“What thing?” she asked, eyes still glued to her book.

“That thing where you pretend I’m not here in the hopes I’ll go away.”

“Cute wasn’t the effect I was going for.”

“Then what were you going for?”

She paused, chewing thoughtfully on her food. After a long deliberation, she swallowed, flipped another page and replied. “Abrasive. Thorny. Perfectly happy not suffering through the indignity of human contact when there are far more important uses for my time.”

“Huh. Well, I’m sorry to say but you missed the mark. It’s definitely cute.”

“It works on everyone else.”

“Actually, that’s why I came over,” Ferez said, scooting his chair closer to the table. Jasmine sighed and closed the book, pushing it to one side then looking the high mage in the eyes over steepled fingers.

“Say your piece, then,” she said.

“I just think it wouldn’t hurt to make some friends,” he said, trying to keep his tone as level as possible. Unfortunately, the blatant pleading was audible even to his own ears.

“I don’t need friends,” she said flatly.

“Everyone needs friends,” Ferez replied. “Especially since, you know…”

“I what?”

“You’ve been through a lot, child-”

“Jasmine. Not child. Please do me the courtesy of talking to me as an equal and not an infant.”

“But we aren’t equals. I’m a High Mage and you aren’t that far removed from being an infant.”

Jasmine glared at him, and Ferez resisted the urge to whither under the ocular assault.

“That’s enough of that. I’ve faced down far more intimidating foes than you before, Jasmine,” he said, once his resolve had been sufficiently steeled.

With a huff, she turned her nose up at him and folded her arms, but her gaze lost its intensity. Stifling a sigh of relief, Ferez pressed on.

“What is so terrible about having a friend or two?”

“Having friends requires maintaining social contact. Time spent laughing and playing and other inane rubbish.”

“But it’s not inane. It makes life fun. Means you never need endure trying times alone, and gives you people to share the good times with.”

Jasmine fixed him with a sharp look. It wasn’t a glare, as such, but it definitely conveyed the sense he had said something stupid. Though what that was? He had no idea. She opened her mouth to say something, but quickly snapped it closed, looking away.

“Maybe one day. But I don’t have time right now. There are twenty-four hours in a day. I need at least eight hours rest for optimal work, lessons take up a further six, three for homework, an hour for dormitory chores, an hour for eating, call it an hour for miscellaneous activities and that leaves a measly four hours for self-directed study. Considering I need to take recreational time during those four hours to maintain my concentration as well, it becomes dire how little time I have.”

“But, you know, you could always take that recreational time with friends? Two birds with one stone?”

Jasmine bit her lip, worrying at it with her incisors. She looked back up at Ferez, almost sheepishly.

“Truth be told, I find being social rather exhausting. Not that it doesn’t have its merits, I understand that, but I can’t use social activities as recovery when I need time to recover from said activities as well.”

Ferez sighed and nodded. He could understand that, at least.

“Just… think about it, please? We mages live a long time; you don’t need to learn everything right now. Out of curiosity, though, what do you have there?”

Jasmine lifted the book and flipped it around to show him the cover. It was a thick, black leather-bound tome with the words ‘Forge of the Pantheon: A Treatise on the Applications Possible at the Intersection of Disciplines’ embossed in gold thread. Ferez whistled. It was a fairly obscure book and not something most students would even consider picking up until well into their Adept years. It had made the author something of a pariah, his calls for greater cooperation and collaborative research between the colleges had been met with a hefty degree of consternation and condemnation from the powerful traditionalist factions in each college. Still, it had been a fascinating read and one Ferez had planned to revisit when he found the time. Maybe that time would come sooner than he thought.

“You will need to let me know your thoughts on it once you’ve finished. I would love to compare our thoughts on the subject.”

Jasmine’s beaming smile made the world seem brighter and Ferez mirrored the smile with his own. It stayed well and truly plastered to his face as he pushed his chair back and stood.

“That is a very technical work though, Jasmine. Don’t push yourself through it so hard that you miss things. Sometimes, working through a problem slowly and smoothly is faster than rushing. And maybe just try a little wave to a classmate now and then? I hate seeing you alone like this.”

Jasmine had already resumed the position he found her in, eyes scanning the page while mechanically shovelling food into her mouth.

“I’m not alone though,” she said absentmindedly. “I have you.”

Inside his chest, Ferez’s heart did a weird little contortionist somersault routine, and he walked out of the dining hall smiling so widely his cheeks hurt. The warmth permeating his very soul didn’t fade as he made his way out of the college, through the city itself and down the long dusty road to Salazaar.

She had him.

It was true. He had intended to rescue Jasmine and hand her off to the college for raising and education in the time-honoured manner, but over the course of the journey back and the last week he had gotten to know the girl. And to say she was remarkable was an understatement. He had known going in that she was powerful, far more powerful than any fire mage alive, Pit probably more powerful than any mage alive, but he hadn’t expected her to be so, well, her. She was like a three-way love child between Ingrid, Leo, and himself.

He shuddered at the intrusive thought. But, at the same time, he wasn’t wrong. Partnered with her incredible raw power, she had Leo’s craftiness and creativity, and the drive and intensity of his beloved Ingrid. This girl would have the world in the palm of her hands one day, and there wasn’t anything anyone could do to stop it. All that could be done was try to guide her in a productive and healthy direction. She needed a mentor.

She needed a parent.

And, her limitless potential aside, Ferez felt she deserved a parent. She was so young and had already endured so much. Pain, betrayal, cruelty. She had seen the worst life could offer. It wasn’t fair, but it would end now. She would experience what the world could, and should be, a world with a loving family and opportunity and all the comforts he could provide. He paused, standing in the middle of the road as the desert wind blew a swirl of sand around him.

I’ll need to talk to Ingrid.

She believed Skjar needed her, that without her benevolent guiding hand and the periodic application of gory violence, the country would fall apart. Pit, maybe she was right, but why should that be her problem? She had already admitted she never wanted to be Jarlessa, and she had been miserable ever since. Didn’t she deserve to stay here with him and Jasmine? They could be one big happy family together, living out their days surrounded in comfort and magic. Skjar would survive. It always did, regrettably. Gods, Reichblut had stepped up admirably since the passing of his old man, couldn’t he take the reins for a bit? At least until Jasmine grew up and moved out of home. Then Ferez would happily move north to the frozen shit hole for the rest of his days if that’s what was needed. Surely Ingrid would see the wisdom in his argument. He just needed to rehearse exactly what that argument was. Maybe he should start drafting a speech?

“Damnit. I should have brought my writing satchel,” he said out loud.

He yelped and jumped when the satchel appeared beside him.

“I thought you might need it, so I took the liberty of retrieving it from your study,” Asim said.

“Pit and damnation, man! How long have you been following me?”

“Since you kissed the Jarlessa goodbye.”

Ferez narrowed his eyes at the giant guardsman. “Bullshit. I would have noticed you standing outside my room.”

“I would have thought so, but no. You shuffled past sipping your coffee and didn’t so much as glance at me.”

“Huh. That must have seemed a little rude.”

“Your words, not mine, High Mage.”

“Although stalking is also behaviour that could be frowned upon, you know?”

“I am not stalking you, sir. I am responsible for your physical wellbeing, and you have a long and storied history of almost dying. Several times within the walls of the Six and Salazaar, I might add. I see it as due diligence.”

“Well, stop it, alright? I’ll let you know when I need an escort from now on. And stop being so sneaky, make some damn noise now and then, will you?”

“I will… endeavour, to be more noticeable. But I must insist on maintaining my coverage of your person. You have a habit of making questionable decision regarding your safety.”

“Rubbish! Give me one example.”

“Right now, you are walking into Salazaar, the site of a large Assassin’s Guild presence and suspected seat of the Guild Master’s power, without an escort.”

“Oh, come now, it’s not as though there’s an agent on every street corner, and, not to toot my own horn, but I am a High Mage. I don’t think I’m the kind of target the Guild would take on.”

“Perhaps, but you have a storied history with the Guild. I imagine they would be quite delighted to find you out and about, unprotected.”

Damn. He had a point there.

“Alright, but how about giving me some breathing room when we’re back in the Six?”

Asim took in a deep breath, giving the thought due consideration.

“I suppose I can. If that is your wish. Though I am not entirely pleased with it.”

“Figure out a way to deal with it, Asim, or I’ll have you replaced with someone less professional. Is that what you want?”

The colour drained out of the guardsman’s face at the thought of someone protecting the high mage with anything less than slavish devotion.

“That’s what I thought,” Ferez said, rummaging around in his satchel and setting off towards the port. “Now, make yourself useful and ensure no one stabs me. I need to draft a speech.”

He kept his head down, scribbling away on a piece of parchment while his feet carried him mechanically forward. Occasionally, Asim would gently guide him around a corner or a pile of crates to head off a collision, and in no time at all, they had made it to the docks.

The Salazaar docks were always a busy locale, vacant berthings were few and far between at the best of times, but now that Leo and Ingrid’s respective fleets were docked it was well and truly beyond its designed capacity, much to the chagrin of the harbour master. Still, for all his ranting and raving, everyone knew his threats were empty. One did not simply chase off the unified might of Skjar or the most powerful private military fleet on the seas. And so he had to content himself with sitting under an awning from dawn till dusk, belligerently puffing away on his pipe while glaring at the ships tied up before him.

Today was different. The portly old man practically bounced around the docks, all smiles and pleasantries. Because today, the Patriarch’s Privateers were leaving.

“Good day to you, High Mage!” he called out, raising a hand in greeting as he bustled past. He was followed by a small army of attendants, noting down his directions as he stipulated which soon to be free berthings would be allocated to what trading vessel when they came in.

I’m glad someone is happy Leo’s going, Ferez thought as he watched the group scuttle off along a wooden jetty. Ferez didn’t count himself amongst that number, however. It had been wonderful having his friend in the city, especially without the spectre of death and destruction looming overhead. But it was unfair to expect the privateer to stay. Ferez’s mission was finished, but Leo’s was never ending. There were contracts to take, slavers to slaughter, and his own little girl waiting for him back home. Not to say he and Mia had been out of contact, though, in fact there had been a letter waiting for him as soon as they pulled into port. Unfortunately, it had not soothed Leo’s nerves. Quite the opposite, in fact.

Ferez chuckled as he recalled watching the water mage read it. First his eyes had lit up when he realised who sent it, then the light had died a little as bewilderment flooded his features, before his face had gone scarlet, and he had blustered and raved about how the ungrateful little urchin would send him bankrupt and how he didn’t even understand how she had managed to hire a galleon to cart all the cloth back to Aqua Vitalle. His plans to refit his fleet and depart had been greatly accelerated, and so here they were, about to part ways once again.

Ferez spotted the man in question down by the docks, chatting to Reichblut while raiders and marines bustled about them, loading and lashing and rigging the sails and scrubbing the poop deck or whatever it was that went into preparing a fleet for departure. He was surprised to see the Skjar so active as well. Perhaps Wogenreiter’s coastal faction had decided to head home before they sank all their earnings into Salazaar’s brothels? Probably smart, all things considered, and it meant the Harbour Master wouldn’t be the only public servant breathing a sigh of relief this day. The Watch Commander would be ecstatic when he realised the drunken northmen wouldn’t be his problem for much longer.

Ferez strode over the wooden planking, calling out to the men as he approached.

“I was worried you wouldn’t be coming to see me off!” Leo said, crushing Ferez in a hug.

“Nonsense, of course I would,” Ferez replied.

“I’m grateful, but please, no tears. I know my departure will rip you up inside, but try and control yourself. You are a grown man, after all.” He finished his sentence with a wink and meaningful glance at Ferez’s pants.

“You talk a lot of shit for a man with such a flammable fleet.”

Leo laughed and waved his hand dismissively while Reichblut grinned.

“If you wouldn’t mind, Skjar would be indebted to you,” the raider said. “We were just discussing how we’d probably be trying to kill each other next time we meet.”

Ferez cocked an eyebrow. “After everything you’ve seen, you think you would stand a chance?”

“Absolutely not, but dying at the hands of the man who killed your father’s killer? It doesn’t get more glorious than that!”

The high mage turned a sceptical look on his friend, but Leo didn’t even have the decency to look sheepish. Ferez sighed.

“You Skjar are a strange breed,” he said, omitting the fact he had been the one to kill Nezir. Who knows, maybe the belief that Leo was responsible could one day lead to better relations and, dare he say it, relative peace on the open seas?

“Well, you would know all about breeding Skjar,” Reichblut replied with an outrageous laugh. “My condolences, though. For what it’s worth, I have no doubts that flame will never sputter out and die. I see now why the Jarlessa spurned suitors all these years. She will still be waiting for you when you are ready to venture north.”

Ferez’s stomach dropped out his backside as the raider’s words sunk in.

“What are you talking about?” he asked. Reichblut suddenly looked nervous, shifting his weight and looking everywhere except at Ferez.

“Oh! Uh, nothing, High Mage, just rambling.”

“Son, what are you talking about?” Ferez asked again through gritted teeth. He took a deliberate step forward and Reichblut shrank back. The mage’s eyes slid across to Leo, but his friend wouldn’t meet his eyes either, staring instead at his feet.

“Ho, boys! How is everyone fairing this fine morning?” Ingrid’s voice called out from behind him. Ferez spun around to find his darling striding down the walkway toward them, a broad smile on her face. Her eyes flicked from him, to Reichblut and Leo, and the smile gaze way to a thundercloud.

“Which one of your dickheads told him?” she asked. Reichblut stuttered out an apology, but before he could make it a full syllable in, Ingrid waved a hand and he lifted off the dock, flying out into the water. With a speed and precision that suggested this was a fairly common occurrence, a team of Skjar unlashed a longboat and rowed over to the impact site, thrusting long wooden poles into the water to find the man.

Ingrid ignored the commotion as she came to a stop in front of Ferez, her harsh expression shifting again into a mask of anguish. Her bottom lip jutted out, trembling, and her eyebrows knitted together over moist eyes.

“You’re leaving?” Ferez asked.

Ingrid nodded, the motion dislodging a stray tear that rolled down her immaculate cheek.

“I am. Skjar still needs me, Ferez.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? We should have talked about this. Damn it, I only made it through the first draft of my speech. Asim! Where is it? Hand it here, quickly now!”

Asim held out the scrap of parchment, but when Ferez reached for it, Ingrid intercepted his hand with her own, pulling it to her and hugging it to her chest. She stepped in close, resting her head on his chest. He rested his chin on top of her head, wrapping her up with his free arm while his own eyes brimmed with tears.

“I knew you would try to talk our way out of it, and I didn’t want that to be our last night together.”

“If you’re set on going, I can come with you!” he said, his cadence quickening as desperation bubbled up in his chest.

With her head still pressed against him, Ingrid shook her head.

“No, Ferez, you can’t. You might think you can, but I know you well enough. You can’t leave Jasmine here by herself.”

“But she will be fine. She’s with the college. She has everything she needs to succeed.”

Ingrid pulled away from him and looked up into his eyes.

“I may be a cold bitch, but even I know that’s not true. That girl has been through more than someone that young should have to endure. What she needs more than books and teachers is someone who actually gives a shit about her, for once in her life.”

Ferez blinked back tears, and his mouth twisted into a grimace. Eighty years. They had wasted eighty years. And now they would lose even more.

“I can’t, my love. I can’t lose more time with you.”

She cupped his cheek, and he nuzzled into her hand, feeling her callouses scratch against his cheek.

“We both have a long time left, Ferez. This isn’t like it was last time. I am yours, you know that now.”

“And I’m yours,” he choked out in reply.

“I should hope so,” she said, stepping in close and pulling him into a passionate kiss. When they were both almost out of air, she broke away, face flushed, a sad smile on her pretty, thin lips. “And if you forget that? If you meet someone else? I’ll murder you both.”

Ferez chuckled and wrapped her in one last, long, embrace.

“I assumed.”

Ferez held on tight, unwilling to let go, until Leo coughed loudly.

“I think everyone is ready to sail,” he said.

Slowly, every second tearing strips off his soul, Ferez pulled back and looked around. The ships were ready, their crews milling about, chatting and smoking, a few looking curiously at him and Ingrid. His eyes drifted back to the woman who owned his heart.

“I have always loved you and I always will,” he said.

“I know.”

Lifting onto her tippy toes, she gave him a quick peck on the lips, then turned and strode towards her flagship. She flicked her hands out to her sides and rose into the air, gliding over the gap between the walkway and the deck, alighting gently and turning back to him with a wave and tear tracks on her cheeks. She stayed there, waving as the raiders undid the last of the ropes and pushed away from the dock, rowing for the mouth of the harbour. The ship passed through the gap between the stone seawall, turned, and disappeared from view, and Ferez’s heart split in two.

“I feel like I should have said goodbye first,” Leo said, breaking the silence. “Our goodbye is going to be very anticlimactic in comparison.”

Ferez turned to him, his mouth open, but the words refused to come out.

“It’s alright. I never know what to say either.”

With a knowing smile, Leo gave him another bone-crushing hug, then stepped back off the dock. A throne of ice rose out of the water, catching him before he could drop and bearing him over to his own vessel. The waves swelled, collecting his entire fleet and rushing them towards the open sea.

“Be sure to write this time, old boy!” the water mage called, and then he too was gone.

Ferez stood there for a while, watching the morning sun rise over the water until the heat grew unbearable and the glare threatened to blind him. And still he stood vigil, until a firm hand clamped onto his shoulder.

“Young Jasmine will have started her classes by now, High Mage. Should we check in on her?” Asim asked.

Ferez sniffed and tilted his head back, gazing into the bright blue sky.

“Oh, dear. Looks like rain,” he said as he felt the water tracking down his cheeks.

Asim handed him a handkerchief. “Indeed, High Mage. Let’s get you indoors.”

Ferez nodded and turned back towards the port city, the mighty Six rising above it in the distance, and started the long walk back.