Something Old, Something New
A Gift for You
There’s a lot going on behind the scenes
As I am embarking on this next leg of my journey I felt it was appropriate to give those of you along for the ride a gift- two technically. The old gift is a chance to reread (or discover for the first time if you’re new) one of my first posts here, A Vagabond of The Sea. The new gift is a look at the complete and colored pages it inspired me to commission last year. These comic pages will be the new opening for Ennead: The Rule of Nine once the “new canon” version is eventually released. If that’s confusing, read this later.
A Vagabond of The Sea
The days leading up to Inahtuu’s arrival in Dunport in Issue 1, Not Too Far From Home, he finds himself on the cusp of a new beginning with not a friend in sight.
It’d been three full turns since Inahtuu had last been aboard a ship - likely the longest he’d been on dry land in years. He’d hated it.
Walking felt awkward without the sway of the sea to steady him. Breathing felt labored without the salty breeze to fill his nostrils. Sleep was hard to come by without the sounds of waves crashing against the ship’s hull. Every ro’kita1 he’d ever known warned him against leaving after his ‘ngi’a ‘kilo’2 had ended.
They’d all say the same thing during each of his short trips home: “A ro’kita only knows two things: their obligation and Mother’s Heart; as she’d intended.”
Most Kavanians were unabashedly devout. They offered affirmations to Mother in every interaction, who they believed had led them through the ‘Sango ‘Gima3. Inahtuu’s faith, or lack thereof, was a point of contention among his compatriots, and between him and his father.
His father, like most, still served beyond their ‘ngi’a ‘kilo’, still believed service was for life. That a firstborn must never walk away from Mother’s calling. He’d always told Inahtuu, “You’re nothing without faith. No son of mine would stray from ‘Faha.”
Yet, here he was.
Inahtuu thought of his father often in these last few months. How disappointed he must’ve been. But he had no choice but to follow his heart. He’d served his time, he’d done his duty to Kavana, to Mother.
How could I have stayed? Was I to join another band? The thought made him shudder.
Inahtuu turned to make his way back to his quarters. As if Mother herself were listening, a man with dull orange robes sauntered toward the ship’s bow. He looked comfortable except for how he’d gripped the hilt of the cutlass at his side. His eyes were fixed on Inahtuu.
While Inahtuu had spent most of his adult life at sea, it had been on Azi’rodio,4 not common merchant ships like this one. He’d never liked sailing with civilians. He’d always known them to be sloppy shipmen. They lacked the proper care necessary to traverse the open ocean with reverence. This trip hadn’t disproved his inclinations.
“Do’to ga ngi’ faha…”5 He took a deep breath and spun to face the water again, though if Mother were listening, he’d need to repent later.
Inahtuu noticed the man was pale, as most men he’d encountered from the west, with burning red hair. The man stopped next to him, puffed his chest and peered out at the horizon. His head and neck sat a bit low, as if his chin were made of lead, preventing him from even reaching Inahtuu’s chest despite the effort.
“I can still remember how majestic this vantage can be,” the man said as he took a pensive breath.
“When I was a little boy my mother and father would tell me stories of their travels to and fro across the Blue Expanse. They’d each been children of merchants, spent a lifetime on vessels like this one. I like to think of myself…”
Inahtuu tuned the man’s voice out. Inahtuu could not say how many, but this man had seen his share of summers at sea considering his wrinkles and sunspots. What he’d thought hair at first was actually an obscene red hat, the odd hair from a beast no doubt known only in the west. A strange thing to wear on a ship. Only a man trying to make a statement would wear such a thing.
The old man’s left hand hovered above his belt, just a fingertip away from his blade’s hilt. Its pommel was no ordinary knob, darker than any obsidian, it could only be one thing. Cardonite? Who is this man? With his interest now piqued, and the man still going on, Inahtuu began to listen again.
“…we were going to build our very own ‘Empire of the Sea,’ she and I. Turned out that she’d never really dreamed as big as I.”
The man paused for a moment, shook himself slightly as if to clear the cobwebs of memory, and continued on.
“My apologies. My attendants don’t let me out much on days such as this. They think my skin too sensitive for it. What’s your name, young man? What brings you aboard the Empress? The old man’s lips pressed shut into what should’ve been a smile.
Inahtuu turned to face him fully. He paused a beat and as if he hadn’t heard the first question, he answered only the second. “It was time I see the great Republic Kingdom.”
After the two spent some time talking, the old man finally offered up his name. Daichi. Despite never having heard the name it immediately confirmed Inahtuu’s suspicion. The man hailed from Dobash, or somewhere close. The Empire had long been a fixture in Amashik. One of the largest regions controlled by one family, and for so long.
He’d heard stories of the Great Dobashi Empire. It was said to be a place of grandeur, one where you could spend what you’d earned in a lifetime in less than a turn. Merchants, collectors, and entertainers were in great abundance everywhere across the Empire.
His mind now racing, Inahtuu leaned out over the front of the ship as if he were going to retch. What brought this man here? Why was he hundreds of miles away sailing in some of Amashik’s most dangerous waters? He was feeling a familiar feeling of angst driven by the desire to know more. And to know it now.
He paused and noticed that the setting sun had painted orange and pink across the water below. He’d never really spent time just enjoying the splendor of sea travel. He’d taken it for granted even though his occupation demanded he live as a vagabond of the sea.
Daichi cleared his throat. Inahtuu’s preoccupation must’ve been evident, and he scrambled to find the right words. “This is your ship, yes?”
Simple. But they were all he could muster. He may no longer serve Kavana as a ro’kita, but that didn’t stop him from behaving as one. He needed answers.
Daichi offered a question of his own instead. “Where is it you are from, traveler? I see Kavana but I hear Saldia - or is that Edhel?”
“I’m from Helkirk.” Inahtuu’s eyes cut to a squint.
“Ah. So I was correct? Which of your parents is from elsewhere?” Daichi leaned confidently against the ship’s railing.
“My mother. She was from Edhel…” Inahtuu trailed, before he shared too much.
“Ah. Forces of two great nations reside within you.”
The old man looked quizzically at Inahtuu. A look that betrayed his tone.
While the Kindgom of Edhel and the Islands of Kavana sat nearly a world away, their history with the Empire wasn’t amicable. When the Empire still occupied the lands now known as Athea, the three had been neighbors - fiercely territorial neighbors. A time this man was old enough to remember.
He’s traversed these channels for years. Hasn’t he? But how? How have we never heard of him? Inahtuu couldn’t fight his natural instincts, despite how long he’d been aground.
Inahtuu reached out and grabbed Daichi’s shoulder as he spoke. His words were as firm as his grip. “Is this your ship?”
The sea merchant didn’t try to pull away, he just stood there. His voice was steady as he replied. “It is. The Empress was the first ship my late wife and I purchased.”
“Where were you coming from when you docked in Ashik?” Inahtuu asked.
“Pardon me?” Daichi feigned shock at the question. Inahtuu could see right through it.
“Where?”
“Now, now. This isn’t necessary. I’ve always known your kind to have a price. What is yours?” The old man raised both hands in a submissive gesture.
Inahtuu pulled Daichi closer. So close that each could likely feel the other’s breath. “How do you know what men from Saldia sound like?”
“I’m old. I’ve met many people in my time.”
Just then, two younger men came rushing to Daichi’s aid. They were unarmed, but Inahtuu let him go all the same. Daichi adjusted his hat and fixed his robes before addressing his attendants.
“My friend and I were just sharing secrets of the sea. No need to worry.”
Daichi let his eyes linger on Inahtuu with that last bit, and he continued in the same easy tone.
“The day is long. It is time for me to take my leave. We should be making landfall in a day or two. Do stop by my quarters before we dock,I’d like to share something with you.” The old man found a way to smile this time as he nodded farewell.
Inahtuu scanned the faces of the attendants.He hadn’t seen them before, but he’d remember them now. Keep his distance. He chose his next words carefully.
“I’ll be sure to. Make sure you sleep well, Daichi.”
The next day went by with little to note. Inahtuu roamed the Empress without feeling like he was being watched. It was as if he hadn’t lived the previous day’s events. Most of his time was spent trying to keep himself busy so he wouldn’t go searching the ship’s cargo for what he’d undoubtedly find.
Only one type of ship openly sailed to Saldia. Trade with the large island and its inhabitants was sanctioned almost unanimously. ‘The Empire of the Sea’ that Daichi had dreamed of, and likely lost his wife over, was an empire fueled by smuggling. This man was no merchant.
He was a pirate.
Inahtuu knew men like Daichi all too well. He’d spent a lifetime hunting them. Bringing them to some semblance of justice… or so he thought. He ‘always known' my kind to ‘have a price?’ Nga ‘sadi…6
As the day turned to night and then to day once more, Inahtuu’s curiosity nearly got the best of him. And as if Mother herself were intervening to save him, a horn blew from up above. Land.
Inahtuu made his way to Daichi’s quarters, where the old man stood with his hands clasped behind his back as he stared out a small porthole - no more than a slit in the hull, really. The way he stood reminded Inahtuu of his father. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up.
Daichi broke his silence. “A man like you isn’t going to find many friends in the Republic Kingdom.” He pointed at a piece of rolled parchment on his desk.
“Take that. You’ll need to know where you can and cannot go. It’s old, but it’ll do. I had it commissioned during the reign of Queen Elra. ”
Inahtuu grabbed the gift. It was an old map of the Republic Kingdom of Athea. A barely legible signature was visible in the lower left corner.
D. Strange.
Quite the name, Inahtuu thought. The craft was astonishing. The hills, forests, rivers, and keeps were as easy to read as any he’d ever seen on a map.
“Thank you,” Inahtuu ground out.
“It is I who should be thankful. In a past life I’m sure you’d have thrown me overboard. Or worse.”
Daichi turned to face Inahtuu. His stance was as easy as it’d been when he first gazed out over the water, but there was sincerity in his eyes. His parting words carried that same feeling.
“Be careful.”
1 Nazolan word for “hunter” or “bounty hunter.” A ro’kita was among the most well respected members of Kavanian society.
2 Nazolan word for “obligation.” On the Islands of Kavana all first born children are obligated to serve in the navy for at least 10 years.
3 Nazolan phrase for “Great Shatter,” often translated as “The Shattering” in other cultures.
4 Nazolan word for “warships.” An azi’ dio was home away from home for a ro’kita.
5 Nazolan for “blood of my mother,” a phrase akin to “for the love of god” in English.
I really enjoy this one! I have a feeling of seeing a hidden part of the story. As usual the artwork and colours are amazing, and weirdly, for some reason, he looks exactly like I was imagining while reading it!
Good to hear from you! And I’m glad you pictured Daichi this way. He’s a pretty cool NPC who shows up in one of my vignettes… and will possibly show up in unexpected places here and there!