RE: The Accounts of One That Accounted for the Sake of Accounting. (Preview for Chapter 3 up!)
I apologize about the following chapter; I had expect to stick in a fighting scene (admit it, you people want one) but Reagald has yet to show off her skills. Also, I ran off (actually, REAGALD ran off) with the description around the city, so this chapter is longer than the other two. I guarentee you guys: Chapter four is going to have quite a bit of butt-kicing. ;D
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Chapter Three
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Writing… what has its purpose been throughout its existence? Is it just a recollection of one’s events… one’s thoughts, or does it serve a deeper purpose? Dear reader, I know not of your view on this, but I have yet to find mine. Perhaps when I write even more, I’ll be able to see for myself… what writing is and why we are drawn to it.
Walking out of the tavern, we received simple directions from Rayn (obviously the leader, though I have yet to see anything special about him. And what’s with the name? It sounds like “rain”): Sandra was to accompany me to one of the sorcerer stores while Rayn and Quar finish getting supplies for travel. We all nodded and made our way.
Sandra’s appearance and disposition… to put it bluntly, it intimidated me. Now with a better view of her, I noticed see wasn’t an adult, roughly about sixteen by looks. Her eyes burned with silent passion, a hidden potential that might explode when needed. And remember that weapon I mentioned early? A sharp and long spear it was, more than twice my length, shining in the scorching daylight, keeping everyone around her (including me!) around his or her toes. She glanced at everyone single person that probably even THOUGHT about looking at her. Her posture was straight, never even slouching the slightest bit, making her appear much taller than she really was in a crowd of people with lazy backs.
“Focus your attention on more than a single person. You can get yourself killed in this environment… each piece of observation could mean the difference between life and death.” she suddenly said to me. I slightly jumped, my ears fully up, my heart skipping a beat.
“Uh, understood… sorry, ma’am.” I quickly replied.
“Ma’am?” she turned to look at me. I didn’t understand the suspecting look until I noticed the slip as well. “Exactly where did you come from, Reagald?” she asked, “Few youngins speak like that… except for the more… refined ones…” I twiddled my paws.
“… you probably won’t believe me… if I told you the truth.”
“Oh, I will. I’m rather decent at seeing facades. Let’s start with your injury.”
“…” I bit my tongue, unsure of how to deal with this situation. Revealing my identity could be a fatal mistake; it was assumed that the assassination was a success, meaning that I’m supposedly dead. If news that a Libren noble was still alive… chances are, they’d hunt that noble down. But if I don’t say anything… I might lose the opportunity of gaining Sandra’s trust. I compromised: “I’ll tell, but not now in front of so many.” She nodded, believing me, almost even understanding me.
We arrived at our destination, Sandra opening the door for me to go in. I stepped in, looking around. Shelves of spelltags, scrolls, and other misc items (such as gems, which can be charged with power) lined in organized stacks. The store’s lighting only consisted of small candles lit in locked glass cases (to prevent some vandalistic maniac from grabbing the candles easily and burning the store. Being the shopkeeper of spells must be as stressful as selling bombs). A Staraptor stood attentively at the counter, his body erect, as if something dangerous is going to fly at him. Sandra came in after me.
“Are you going to simply stand there?” she asked. I shook my head quickly and browsed the aisles. None of the spells were high level, which concerned me. I even felt like asking to go another store and see if they had a better selection, but I knew that:
1 – That most likely wasn’t the case and these spells are what I’ll have to live with.
2 – Asking is disrespectful to the storekeeper, and I had a feeling the Staraptor is holding spells himself, whereas I had none. The end result: getting kicked out painfully.
3 – I wanted to just get the spells and have this over with. The less time I spend out in public, the better. Who knows if those three assassins are still prowling around?
After about seventeen minutes of selecting my spells, I had a good stack of about forty spelltags on the counter. The Staraptor frowned slightly at me.
“Not going to get a robe?” He asked, immediately causing me to mentally groan at my forgetfulness; every sorcerer needed a robe to hold the spells, since carrying them all was too much of a hassle.
“Do you mind if I buy the spells first and then look at the robes?” I quickly made up.
The Staraptor nodded, took them, and shifted the stack of spells one tag by one from his left wing to his right, no doubt quickly adding costs for the total price. He places them all back on the counter.
“Nine hundred fifty.” he said. I opened the stolen purse, and pulled out small cylinders, each containing a hundred gold coins. I got out nine, and quickly set down fifty with my paws. He counts them and gives me the spells afterwards, mentally removing the secretive security measures on them (or he could be faking it, but no one would want to test it). I received the spells and nodded at Sandra, giving her the spells to hold while I go select a robe.
Folded black cloth pilled in the back corner, the top one gathering dust, protecting the ones below from most of the nasty buildup. My mouth twitched in annoyance, my paw a-tapping on the ground impatiently, my tail swishing in scorn, my mind knowing that out of so many robes stacked in no organization whatsoever, I have to find the right size. So began the search, pulling each one out and winnowing out the ones that were obviously too large. After filing through the mess of black fabric, I had about six sizable cloaks, but all six only had two major gaps for the arms; each cloak blatantly covered my ears, which forced my ears to fold down, making it not only hard to hear, but discomforting.
This would not do... I complained to myself. I took one of the cloak and walked over to the counter.
“I need holes for the ears.” I said. The storekeeper looked under the counter and pulled out a large pair of scissors, both of his wings holding it steady.
“The cloak.” I handed it to him, and he started slicing away at the textile, his eyes glance up at me, noting the size of them, and no doubt account the later size as I grow. He hands it back to me, saying “Two hundred.” Instantly, I opened my purse and pulled out the necessary amount. After the purchase, I took back the spells, and placed them all within the hidden pocket in the cloak, a known location only to either a sorcerer or a person that went to check for one on a cloak (duh).
“Let’s hightail it from here.” I remarked, grinning with the fact that I was now officially armed.
She replied with another nod and we went out, but it suddenly occurred to me:
“Sandra, where are we meeting? Rayn didn’t tell-“
“You weren’t with us earlier, so I’m not surprised you asked. We rented a room at an inn, so we should-” she stopped as I gasped sharply.
“Quick,” I said, “let’s go the other way.”
“What?” I just took her hand and turned to go around, for if I had taken just five more steps, that same Gardevoir (whose purse I stole!) would be in front of me. Of course, Sandra has no idea what I was doing, but she decided it was wiser to simply follow.
So we quickly head the other direction. So hasty was my rush to get away from the possible wrath of a lady Gardevoir (if you’ve never seen the wrath of a Psychic Pokémon, consider yourself lucky. One of the nobles around the palace had intimidated many others with his display of… I’d rather not describe), that I ran into another passerby. The air jumped out of my lungs, as an “Oof!” escaped from my mouth.
“I’m sorry, sir. I-“ I opened my eyes and looked up, to see a cloaked being in front of me – no, three of them. The one in front held a dagger in his right Ninetale’s paw, blood dripping from the point of the blade, gleaming in the sun. My eyes widened in horror.
They were the same three assassins… the same three that killed Roy…
And I’m no doubt the next person on their list.
Faster than I could react, the blade went straight up at me, intending to deal me in with a single jab. It would have done the trick too had Sandra not interfered. Clang! I backed up, as the dagger and the tip of Sandra’s spear suddenly appeared before my eyes. A spark flew from the impact of the two weapons of metal. The crowded dispersed from us, fearful of getting stabbed or injured (or killed) in some other way. The other two cloaked assassins also backed off, acknowledging that I wasn’t alone. Sandra suddenly flicked the spear, removing the lead assassin’s grip on the bloody dagger, the flying projectile ripping through the fabric of the roof of a booth and halted by the brick wall, the tip embedded into the wall as if someone tossed it like a dart. The front assassin now backed up as well, causing Sandra to advance, the spear pointed at the cloaked Ninetale’s throat, only a mere thrust away from causing death.
“If you were wise,” said Sandra, her tone sending chills up my spine, “you would disappear before I seriously deal with you despicable things.” All three turned around and ran for their lives (literally), pushing any person blocking their way aside. In no less then fifteen seconds, I could no longer see them. Sandra flips the spear around and re-inserts it into the strap on her back.
“H- how…” I started, not even aware of what I wanted to say. I couldn’t follow (much less remember!) what had just happened. I could’ve sworn that Sandra was a good couple of yards behind me, and yet, she took her spear out, closed that distance gap, and blocked the dagger thrust in no more than a second. Sandra noted my incredulous expression and chuckled.
“Shocked? That’s how things are around here. Don’t you remember what I said? ‘Each piece of observation could mean the difference between life and death,’ and I always keep a tab on every person around. You were blindly running straight into unknown territory, Reagald, and the next time, I might not be around to let you recover from that mistake.” I lowered my head, my ears drooping in shame. Sandra was attentive and saw the danger earlier than I did, and thus was able to react to the situation more easily. I cursed at the revelation: I was a noble, unsuited for this harsh environment, where simple selective attention wasn’t enough for survival… what was the use of being able to use spells if I can’t be able to defend myself from an incoming dagger?
But it occurred to me that while Sandra was superb in combat, she didn’t have the eyes of a combatant; they were alert, yet thoughtful. A philosopher’s posture in the body of a warrior. Someone that believes in something more than killing, yet kills out of necessity.
“You’re doing it again.” I snapped back to reality and looked around in the crowd, following Sandra, noting the various goods sold, noting the diverse people walking by, noting… and taking in as much as I could. Sandra smiled at my attempt to follow her advice. I eventually closed my eyes and shook my head; it was impossible (and painfully dizzying) to split my focus into everything around me.
“No one gets it on the first – nor the twentieth – try.” said Sandra, glaring at some staring merchants, who immediately turned around and (nervously) pretended they never saw her. I sighed, wondering how far behind this game I was. I thought having spells were enough, but I was almost killed, regardless of the spells on me.
A good ten minutes later, the inn that Sandra mentioned was in sight. Walking along the market path, I was about to approach the building with Sandra when something caught my eye: A beautifully constructed store, the roof layered with brass shingles, the walls carved with elegant symbols, an ancient language that went around the sides, the windows spotless, clearly displaying the showcase, various merchandise neatly placed on antique furniture, a blank diary standing a bit left of the center, its cover made of Nidoking scales, its center a gold plate, waiting to be etched with its owner’s name.
Needless to say, I convinced Sandra to check it out for a brief moment.
My ears picked up the ringing tone of the chimes as I opened the door (with my left paw. My right was still recovering), Sandra following behind. Aromatherapic candles provided little lighting in the bright room, sunlight flooding in through the clear glass. They, instead, served the other part of their purpose, brining in a calm atmosphere through the olfactory senses. Shelves – Arceus, so many – lined across the room… a library of items to be sold, all lined up in their appropriate category, shelved in an orderly fashion. The color of the walls and furniture included only the light tan color of oak and a bit of redwood, catching the rays of light and almost illuminating the room themselves. Perfectly organized everything in here was.
“Hello. May I help you?” came the voice from the counter. Sandra and I turned to see an Altaria (a female one), warmly smiling at us. I shifted uncomfortably from the eager welcome, but quickly regained my composure.
“Actually, I’ve noticed one of your items on display. The diary.”
“Ah. You wish to have a closer look?” I nodded, and she walks out of the counter, holding a key, unlocking the display case and pulling out the diary. She handed it to me.
“A masterpiece this is. I hope you take care of it well. Few writers can have their work cherished in such a beautiful book.” I blinked, first from confusion, then from realization. I looked up from the book and at her.
“… what makes you think I’m going to buy the book without a doubt?”
“Your eyes show it; you have a passion to write, even if you have not yet seen it.” Sandra turned to look outside.
“I’ll be back in a minute. Or two.” were the short remarks from her as she suddenly left the store, the door swinging open from the harsh push. I looked out, wondering why the abrupt need to leave. The searching didn’t take long; the crowd was huddled, their attention focused on something beyond my sight, for the wall of bodies were so compactly tight and thick, Sandra had to physically pull out each person one by one before she was gone within. I refocused back on the book, then the Altaria.
“How much?”
“Original price is a whooping three thousand and five hundred gold coins, but I’ll hand it to you for half.”
A thousand seven hundred and fifty. Do I even have that much? A quick inspection revealed that I didn’t even have a thousand. The Altaria noticed as well.
“Tell you what. I’ll hand the book over for free.” She paused, giving me time to stare at her in complete shock. She continued soon after: “If you promise to fill the book with your own words. Do not sell it to anyone else. Do not lose it, and certainly do not let it be extensively damaged.”
Needless to say, I was speechless; the Altaria was making no sense; a book worth such a fortune... for free if I just write in it? Logic provided no reason and only suspicion. I questioned her and she merely asked back if I would uphold the promise. Such a bargain would be stupid to refuse, but it didn’t make sense to me. It
still doesn’t as I’m writing this here. I did, however, empty the purse (I even HANDED the purse over to make up for it) in purchasing the ink and the quill, a small Lugia feather, old and rattled from the harsh years.
Fitting bought items in my cloak (Arceus, who knew such small pockets could be crammed with so much?), I opened the door, only to be snatched by Sandra and tossed into an alley. I fell on my back onto the sand, quickly getting back up, hurt and confused. She held her spear at my throat, my body frozen, I gulping, wondering what I had done.
“You’re a Libren noble, aren’t you?” My eyes widened at the sudden question, them alone answering Sandra’s inquiry. She frowned. “You’re on the wanted list: twenty thousand gold coins as the reward.” I trembled a bit, now in complete fear.
“Y-You’re… are… are you going… to turn me in?” I asked, my voice trembling. She shook her head.
“I’m not the kind of person to give away a life just for mere gold. But tell me: is that where you got your injury from, a wound from the assassins?” I shook my head at this. “During your escape then?” A nod. “They saw you escape?” Another nod. “The three… the ones I sent off running. Are those involved in the assassination?” Nod. “You had saw them before?” Once more, a nod. “… you outran them?” I gulped.
“A… a servant of mine distracted them. I got the time needed… to get…” I started to tear up, no longer able to suppress the memories. She pulled the spear away and knelt down, at my eye level.
“Do you know about the conspiracy?” I shook my head, a tear fleeting to the ground. She sighs and hands out a handkerchief (which I eagerly took to dried out my eyes). “You’re too young for this, Reagald… and a noble as well. That explains everything now. Do you know that they thought everyone in the palace was killed?”
They what? Everyone? That wasn’t an assassination then. That was genocide. Massacre. Cold-blooded slaughter. I tried to get myself together.
“The conspiracy… what was it for?” Sandra turned her head away.
“Politics. Wealth and power. That’s always why such things happen.” Sandra grunted out of disgust, “I’m surprised though; you’re nothing like-“
“I may be a noble in status,” I immediately retorted, “But I’m not one in spirit.” I closed my eyes, thinking how things would have been differently if Roy would just… dammit, why wouldn’t he listen to me? Why did he have to die? Why on my birthday?
“… Libren is going to fall apart. First the libraries, then the entire city will be invaded by Tokar.”
Tokar? The name rang a familiar tone. Wait:
It was five days ago. Leaning against the wall, I groaned in impatience. That Rhydon always takes his time.
“Never!”
My right ear went up. I edged a bit more to the side, curious on what the sudden cry in the council was about. Usually business there was pedestrian and bland, nothing that would usually bring such a passionate response as that. So eavesdropped I did (it wasn’t hard as I could already pick up most of the sound. I just rarely paid attention).
“The commerce would be in ruins if we accepted such terms!”
“Do they expect us to hand over our fortunes to them?!”
“It is ours by right! How could they mark such a claim?!”
The uproar was outstanding; order was established a full ten minutes later.
“I take it we are unanimous with the decision of rejecting Tokar’s… rather demanding request?”
“Aye!” Went the whole council. I walked off, disappointed in the anti-climatic ending.
“Wha…” My mouth hung open. “Tokar ordered the assassination… didn’t they?” Sandra blinked, surprised at my “guess.”
“They did.” I lowered my right ear with the paw, slightly flinching at the pain. Sandra stared, confused at this odd quirk. Conversations. Since the last week. There were tensions. Many tensions. It was trade. Libren didn’t have a military and depended on its economic superiority. Tokar no doubt challenged and went for control of the markets somehow. Rejection. They’re going to take what they want by force. I took my right paw off and looked at Sandra.
“Isn’t Tokar going to face resistance from other states?”
“They will, but I have no doubt bribes will keep the protesters quiet.”
“Even if they’re going to control the wealth? Such short-term compensation couldn’t possibly match such a long-term advantage.” Sandra narrowed her eyes at my thinking.
“First I thought you had little clue about this and now you’re suddenly getting your footing?”
“I pick up many things around the palace, just not the specifics.” I replied. Then I thought again. “How far is Tokar from here?” Sandra snorted.
“Libren is almost isolated itself. The mountains around keep it from being ambushed, and the distance to even the
closest state is at least a two days journey by walking. You’re not planning on going there, are you?”
“Where are
you planning on going?” I retorted. She looked off.
“… the Outpost. I had enough of Kahan. The people are falling under corruption. The nobility is become too gre-“
“Whoa. Hold a moment. You’re going out of Kahan?”
“I had the desire, yes.”
“What’s out of Kahan?” I asked, completely unaware that lands existed beyond this place. Arceus, I was a noble lad, never stepping out to see the city I live in, and Kahan’s not even the entire land? How much have I not been through? What have I been missing my entire life?
Why in Arceus’s sake was Roy trying to keep me from coming out here? Just why? Is it only because I’m not accustomed to it? I couldn’t understand.
Sandra smiled.
“Considering how cooped up you were in the palace, I can only assume you’ve never heard of such places. Kahan is merely a region of the entire world. Libren has never been interested in areas out of Kahan, thus why you most likely never heard of them. I could easily name off the top of my a few places bordering Kahan.”
“Please do.”
“Salemn, Kyodan, The Lugian Sea, Rogu, The Orange Islands, and Kanto’s a bit off.”
“…” I had nothing to say; if I had been ignorant in a simple matter, who knew how much I was clueless on? Knowledge seems too vast now – no – even unnecessary. If it can’t be applied to one’s life, then there is no other use for it. Nevertheless, I managed a nod.
“I… would like to explore such areas.” was the only (rational) thing I could think of saying. She chuckled.
“Then we might be able to go together. Come. I have no doubt Rayn and Quar are waiting now.” I nodded and was about to go when Sandra raised her hand to stop me. “Oh, and act casual; people don’t tend to notice others if they blend back into the background. You’ll be seen but no one will think twice about you if you act naturally.” I frowned, now remembering I’m wanted. The term was known to me already; the council of Libren themselves marked wanted people for rewards.
“Understood.” I said. Sandra nodded and we walked out together. I made sure to simply keep my mind limited, only focused on reaching the inn. Sandra made sure to cover me from the view of as many people as she possibly could without looking suspicious. But it couldn’t last forever and we both knew it; at one point, someone is going to recognize me in this cloak and I’ll have to make a run for it. I wasn’t safe, nor could I ever be safe until I was either taken off the list… or if I leave Kahan.
The inn door creaked as Sandra turned the doorknob and pulled. The lighting in the lobby was damp; though not as dark as the Staraptor’s store, the blinds kept most of the sunlight out. Few people sat at the benches within the wooden motel, motionless, sitting with what appears to be a lack of purpose. The innkeeper was sitting at the counter, a Sandslash writing down in (what seems to be) a small notebook for accounting, scribbling away numbers, not pausing, not even when I approached the counter for a better view, not even when Sandra order for me to go up the stairs with her, not even when I peeped around the corner to get one last sight at him.
The room was on the third floor, straight down the tiny hallway in this rather small building. Sandra knocked on the door in a rhythmic fashion and Rayn opened it merely two seconds later.
“M’ Arceus! What took ha’f the day to dress up the littl’ Eevee?” He asked, rather mockingly, void of being seriousness or strictness. Sandra wryly smiled.
“Obviously, something bad (and you always know what I mean when I say that). Step aside, I’ll tell once we get in.” Rayn nodded and gets out of the way. I blinked and peered around, entering the room.
“Room” wasn’t exactly what I’d call it; there was a lack of beds, only an empty corner providing enough sleeping space (either that or the table – which I was forced to, since I wasn’t paying for the rent). All the wood were encased in a thin layer of dust (Arceus knows how long they’ve been denied any form of cleaning), even a few cobwebs underneath them, an oil lamp on the only table around (this I later discovered had a crack on the bottom, making it unusable for its original purpose. Worse, I would realize that I had to sleep on the slick piece of wood… UGH). The only window was left open, rust completely dominating of the hidden layer of actual metal. I walked over to it, looking out while Sandra discussed about the recent events with Quar and Rayn. The crowd below appeared much smaller, insignificant miniature people slowly crawling through the dirt. I sighed and took out the diary, opening it, looking at the blank page. I had time. The quill, pulled from the pockets of the cloak, wetted with ink, scribbled today’s date on the top right-hand corner of the page.
Then it paused, for its master hesitated, unable to follow through, unable to think of what to start with. But then, with renown inspiration from an old memory, it began:
And it sat, placing the cliché phrase “like a sitting Psyduck” to mind…
Sandra placed her hand on my shoulder during my concentration, evoking a gasp from me in surprise.
“You must care a lot.” was what she simply said, and I realized that, in the midst of my writing, I drew a tear from the corner of my eye, still not fully recovered from… you already know. I nodded at her and closed the book. She looks out.
“Rayn and Quar agreed to keep you safe, as long as you help along with us as well. The journey is never safe. Kahan never was safe… too many states, too many princes, all competing for power.” She pounds the bottom edge of the window, cracking it, a pause in her speech for the emphasis of her concluding statement: “I can’t wait to get away from here.”
“Hey Sandra, Reagald, you going to eat or not?” asked Quar, unpacking a box. Rayn was standing besides the Sandslash, holding a large piece of cloth in his hand. Both of us walked over to see the container’s contents (I needed to stand on a chair): delicate pastries with (oh Arceus, I’m just getting hungry just by writing this down! Mm!) Sitrus berry filling, and coated with a sugary frosting (and glazed!).
It just took all of my willpower not to grab one of them in that instant (actually, I’m not even sure how I managed to not pounce for them); the scent enticed me, drew me to utter salivation.
And I was served last. I couldn't blame them, for I was new, but still,
I was starving. The savory taste sent me into blissful mood...
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I'm sorry. I just can't write it down. Every time I tried, my stomach growled and I JUST couldn't bring myself to describe it all; I'm torturing myself just by thinking about it. I'm going to have to move on (Arceus, I'm hungry).
The meal was done and we rested, for to walk in the darker hours doesn't dehydrate the body as it does in the afternoon in the desert (stupid table! I'm never going to get all of that oily dust out of my fur!). And we checked out of the inn, ready to take on the Kahan night. The sun was setting, the very thin clouds appearing as the water cools, the crowd thinning out, the sky darkening, and the moon rising, we (after paying the unusual toll to the soldiers at the gates of Libren. No wonder the rich stay rich.) made our way out to the vast expanse of sand.
Arceus, I've never seen so much of it. Every direction away from Libren looked no different from the other. How is navigation even possible? Rayn opened the map and looked.
“No second thoughts?” He asked Sandra and Quar.
“None.”
“Nay.”
He nodded and closes the map and he started walking, us three following shortly after. I looked around again, taking it all in…
“Reagald!”
I turned my head to Sandra – who called out my name, only to get tackled down by her. A half second later, when I was flying down onto the ground with her, a large explosion spontaneously occurred at the location where I was once standing, obstructing my sight.
All I could see was the risen sand and smoke, blinding my eyes.
