Chapter 8: The City of Midnight Bloom

It was the second most populated and second oldest city in Kellylin. Beaten in population by Estihal in the far northwest of the region, which was named as the city in the east by Niern and Lyrissan travelers that came from farther west, an up and coming city that had more in common with the lands on the border than the rest of Kellylin. In terms of age it was only beaten by Anom’Gong, or Anom’Gonn which was also an acceptable spelling, that was the spiritual and political capital of Kellylin. Sohouta sat in a comfortable position in between the other two cities in those metrics, but remained an indispensably important city regardless. For one thing it sat on the south end of Lake Sey’chey, near the mouth of two great rivers that flowed in from the far corners of Kellylin. It was the most central of the major cities, and boasted high marks in nearly every area, especially for Kellylin. While its overall population was smaller than that of Estihal, the average Sohouatan was far wealthier, happier, and more likely to have stable employment. And despite Anom’Gong’s prestigious age and beauty, Sohouta was seen as the cultural capital of Kellylin, and much preferred by the youth. Besides, Anom’Gong’s was very old money, either of the Dynastic sort, or belonging to the church, which tended to mean that the money there stayed stagnant. 

Sohouta was principally controlled by four major clans, the small minor clans seldom controlled parts of urbanized cities much less one as magnificent as this, these clans were the Nohanjas, the Ealmeni, the Torpec, and the Itsusu. The Nohanjas they knew already, and though they were Yhora’s clan, the rest of the clan were not necessarily as friendly to the group as Oswain and Lycce were. Nohanjas were responsible for training and equipping most of the rangers in Kellylin, they had a long history of being defenders of the rural and border regions. Their territory was located in small pockets throughout the hinterlands, and in most of the major cities. The Ealmeni were an unthreatening clan as well, centering in and around lake Sey’chey, they mainly operated trade routes and grew goods to be exchanged across the region, because of this they were moderates and tended to not pick fights with other clans. The Torpec were a major force in the region, formed relatively recently, forty years ago, by a merging of two important clans. The Torpecs were swift to elbow their way into as many important areas as possible, grabbing hold of Sohouta’s metallurgy sector and ingratiating themselves into the nobility, which was to say that they were aggressive and territorial, especially to Nohanjas. Lastly, the Itsusu, who were known as the wisest and oldest of the clans. They controlled the great library of Sohouta, and were the largest clan in the city, as such the head of their clan was given the title High Visakar, which was a ceremonial and religious title.  All clans in the city were independent, but the Itsusu were the most important, and though they were all rivals, tradition compelled the other three to give the Itsusu final say on many matters.

The city itself was built in the lowlands near the coast of Lake Sey’chey, off to the east of the Aggano river. Up from the river a canal was carved. This canal wrapped all the way around Sohouta as a moat would, and allowed for ships to easily travel from lake Seychey to the city and back. The main districts of Sohouta were located on the forged island in the middle of the canal, though much of the urbanised area spilled over. The terrain leading up to the city looked as the farms outside Req’su did, growing vast arrays of mushrooms and fungus in rows that curled over the lowlands. Sohouta itself grew like a patch of asters in a flowerpot. The buildings were squat, but curved and stylish. Some sides of the city looked periwinkle, others goldenrod or maroon. It looked as if the city was a canvas with four separate painters starting on all corners, creating their own image until they butted brushes, weaving around one another attempting to march their image forth despite the combined efforts of the three others. Of course this was just the appearance given by a look from far away. Gane and the others traveled through the crop fields and down the lowlands. It seemed some of the farmers had been impacted by the massive storm the previous night, though through the work of a system of dykes and dams, their farms had gone nearly untouched by spillover water. 

Yhora directed them to make for the city’s entrance on the Ealmeni controlled side. Their red and bronze banner was hung off from a warped wooden building. They arrived by the edge of the canal in an area where ferries would cross. A large crowd of other people sat around them, waiting for the noon ferry to arrive so that they could bring their produce to market. Gane held on to the side of their carriage, he struggled to see above the heads of so many Roni who all stood taller than him. Luckily they had arrived in the nick of time, and the ferry could be seen drifting over to them. Unlike in little Req’su, most of the people around them didn’t give so much as a second glance at them, they had seen far stranger before. It was refreshing to not be a spectacle, but Gane still couldn’t help but feel a little bit out of place. If nothing else he was unfamiliar with city life,and  that city being a foreign one as unique as this didn’t help things. The ferry arrived and pressed up against the dock that they stood on, opening its gates and letting the pool of people flow in. Yhora carefully led the carriage on as well. The ferry only offered a short trip across the canal and into the city, apparently the waters were too thick for any drawbridge, that or they had opted not to build one, so not to impede traffic in the canal. 

As they stepped off the ferry Gane and the others were pushed steadily into a veritable garden of wonders and oddness. The streets were not paved with stones here, rather they were made from the hardened tops of mushrooms, which wavered in color depending on the direction you faced them from, it was almost disorienting at first. Shacks and warehouses and cranes loading boxes, the port bustled with movement in all directions and doing all different things. Tall Roni men passed him by, carrying baskets full of fruit or clothes that they had jammed nicely in between their antlers, these men turned and looked at Gane, staring at him as if he was the odd one. Both sides of the streets barked advertisements and offers for their goods to anyone in between them, screaming in near incoherent words. As Gane made his way down the street a Roni woman holding her young daughter ran up to him and stuck her offspring in his face. In broken Niern she yelled.

“Please! You are from Niern! Teach my daughter language for success!”

Gane put his hands up and backed away uncomfortably. Mumbling an apology as best he could. Kayseri pulled him back to the carriage’s side. As they passed ahead of the woman he yelled back to her. 

“Apologies ma’am, he has far larger responsibilities as of now!”

Gane sighed and crossed his arms so as to make himself smaller in this wild city. He didn’t much like the chaos of the open streets so far. There was so much to see and too little time to process, one could not hear himself think out here. 

“Don’t fret, I’m sure she’ll find a teacher for her daughter, she has a real go-getter attitude.” Kayseri proclaimed as he slapped Gane hardily on the back.

That wasn’t what was getting to him, everything is so loud and impersonal. Gane began to complain. Kayseri put his hand on Gane’s shoulder.

“Worry not, you’ve hired protection, haven’t you. You’ll take to city life soon enough. Zoll is very experienced in the field and he’d be happy to give some pointers.”

Upon hearing his name, Zoll slithered out of his jar and morphed back into a humanoid shape, wrapping his cloak around him again and jumping from the carriage to the streets with them.

“I can show you the ropes.”

“I appreciate it, but…” Gane began to explain, but he was cut short. They had arrived. It was a ratty old building, it didn’t look old, but it creaked like it was, the roof and windows were mushy and slumped down.  Painted on the front of the establishment was the name “The Copper Cot” they wore their lack of quality on their sleeve. Yhora helped the Moridians down from the carriage and told them to head inside, and that she’d be in with them shortly. She had taken everyone to the shoddiest, though cheapest inn in the Ealmeni district. This was where they would be staying until further notice.

“Is this the best we can afford? Even with Oswain’s money?” Gane asked. 

“We don’t know how long we’ll have to stay in town, I know it’s bad.” She looked to Kayseri. “As good of a deed as it is to help these people out, we can’t be expected to house everyone with a sad story.”

“Not to fret, Zoll and I will have them on their feet in a week's time. But for today, we should let them rest.”

Gane looked down at his mud stained clothes, he had just realized how much of a wreck he was. “Maybe we should take a day to rest too, we’ve made it, and I doubt we’ll even be let into the Great Library by the looks of us.”

Kayseri agreed with a proverb. “An Idle man is doomed to the will of the river, but a man who swims when the current is with him wastes his efforts.”

Yhora rolled her eyes slightly at the idea of responding with such a proverb when a simple “yes” would have sufficed. 

They loaded up their things and paid for their rooms. To save money the Moridians would get one room, and they would get two more rooms split by gender. Yhora would be the only one with a room to herself, being the only woman in their posse came with its occasional perks. They were going to rest for the day and figure out how to get into the library tomorrow. As it happened, they had arrived one week before Midrising’s Festival, a traditional day of revelry in Roni culture that celebrated the Root Mother(Beyaliss)’s awakening. The clerk running the inn asked them in passing if that was why they were visiting. Gane had of course been immediately interested after hearing about this cultural sight that they might be able to see, he spoke with the clerk for an inconvenient amount of time, enthralled by promises of magic rituals and incredible sights. He immediately begged the rest of the group to attend when the event came. Yhora had of course been through twenty five Midrising’s festivals in her life, and wasn’t nearly as starstruck, but agreed to attend with him. He seemed genuinely interested in learning about Roni society. Kayseri and Zoll agreed to come as well. 

They retreated to their rooms until further notice, Gane hung his dirty clothes up on the window sill and napped on the bed for a few hours, when he awoke he got to talking with Kayseri. Gane wanted to get it a bit more training on their day off, particularly in the field of weapon use. Kayseri agreed, but said that his method could not be rushed. As they fell into conversation about this or that, Zoll quietly left the room. 

Zoll was the curious type, not one to ask questions aloud per say, but one to keep thoughts in his mind and to silently seek out answers. At the moment, Zoll had questions about Yhora that needed answering. She had claimed membership in the Nohanja Clan, and yet she took them to a different clan’s district of the city, away from Nohanja protection or authority. This alone was only slightly suspicious, but Zoll had been perhaps the only one to notice that they had taken a longer route to the Ealmeni Clan’s entrance, longer than it would have taken to enter into her Clan’s land. It seemed to Zoll that she was intentionally avoiding the territory of her own Clan, and Zoll intended to question her on as much. Normally Zoll was more careful with such curiosity, but he had seen enough of Yhora to know that she probably wasn’t going to attack him should her secret be revealed. He found the room she was staying in, hardened the material of his hand to knock on the door, and waited for her answer.

“Who is it?”

“Zoll.”

She opened the door ajar. “Yes?”

“I have a question for you. Would you mind if I came in?” He asked in the same monotone he always spoke with.

“Can you not ask the question out here?” Yhora was hesitant, she had only met this strange person a day or so ago, and there was always something suspicious about him.

Zoll looked back and forth in the hallway. He didn’t see anyone, but there was no way of telling who was listening in from their rooms. Oh well, it was her secret. 

“It seems to me like you’re intentionally avoiding your own clan’s territory, am I right?”

Yhora frozen, wide eyed and suspicious. She pushed the door open a bit more to let him in. making sure to shut it after he entered, she sat down on her bed and explained to him. 

“In Roni culture you are supposed to spend your whole life in pursuit of one goal. I spent my whole life preparing to be a ranger. I was convinced that it was my destiny. I enrolled with the Nohanja Clan Military for training and lived here for about a year, always telling myself it was exactly what I wanted out of my life. I wasn’t half bad at it and I began working for the Clan Guard, but my passion for the one thing I was supposed to do was beginning to fade, and when I heard that my family’s village was attacked, I knew I had been wrong to come here. I deserted from my training and my post to chase my lost destiny in the woods. I can’t face the humiliation of returning to the Nohanja district. The whole clan aside from my closest family sees me as a disgrace.”

Yhora stopped herself, she had poured out a little too much, though it did feel good to get off her chest. Zoll seemed understanding enough, he sat in silence after she finished. He thought for a second, then spoke. 

“I understand. And I apologise if I was being too nosey. Anything that you would like to be kept a secret is safe with me.”

His curiosity had been sated on the matter, and what’s better he had earned what he truly sought out of this information. A trust in his new client.

The rest of the day passed without much happenstance, Gane and Kayseri trained for a brief bit, but they did not get very far. The Copper Cot’s poor quality couldn’t help but pale in comparison to the grandeur of the city. Sohouta teemed with life at all hours. The streets were sheltered by long balconies hanging from building sides. On these balconies there was always noise of some kind, be it music or laughter or the sounds of people yelling at one another from opposite sides. The group sat on one such balcony as the sun went down that night. They had gone at Yhora’s request, she told them it was the greatest view in Kellylin. Gane stepped out onto the top balcony of the Copper Cot and stared out over the skyline, it was indeed pretty, the four main colors spilling across the wonky and naturalistic shapes of the roofs. But as the sun dipped down into the horizon the city went nearly pitch black. For a moment he could barely see his hand in front of his face, until soft blue lights began to emerge across the city-scape. Each roof swelled with a dull light until it spilled out and showed in a luminescent display. The roofs spilled open like petals on a flower in bloom, glowing now in a soft cobalt blue. Gane stood with his mouth agape at the magnificent glow of the city. The Midnight Bloom, as Yhora explained it, was the result of the unique methods used to build the city. They grew Giant Moon Flowers as the base for their buildings, such flowers opened up every night and gave off luminescent light for the whole city. Gane stared out at their magnificence. 

“If only I had my notebook to record such a phenomenon.”

Kayseri leaned back at his comment. “Why bother spoiling the moment with a mind half attentive. You don’t need to write it down, it seems to me that you’d scarcely forget this sight as long as you live.”

Gane considered it, and let himself live the moment, it was better this way.

They stayed out for another hour longer to stare at the city, before returning to their rooms. In spite of the quality of their beds, they all managed to get the best night of sleep they had gotten in a long time. 

They gathered again in the morning. Yhora and Zoll assessed the items lost in the flood. Kayseri met with the Moridian family and gave them some money for the day, unfortunately he would not be able to help them find work that day, as they had much to do first, but Kayseri assured the family that he would keep his word and have them employed in a week. Gane awoke late, an unfortunate habit that was only inconvenient when he had traveled alone, but was rude and embarrassing now that he was with a group. He threw his clothes on and scrambled out of his room to meet downstairs with the others. 

“We have completed our assessment of the Carriage.” Yhora declared as Kayseri and Gane arrived. “We seem to have lost just about all of our rations, spare cloths, and magic for powering the carriage’s engine. So we’re going to need to head out and replace our supplies today.”

And so it was decided, with little argument that they would head out and shop for supplies for the early part of the day, the afternoon was left open in hopes that they would be able to accomplish their more important tasks. They left as a group for the central city market, a place of much commerce and something of a neutral zone between the contested clans of the city. It was laden with Ealmeni merchants, seeing as how they were the most remunerative clan, and so Yhora disguised herself as one. She borrowed a large brown peacoat from Quella the Moridian and wore red and bronze colored ribbons tied around her arm. Yhora planned on lying low in the market, and hoped the strangeness of her companions would help draw attention away from her. 

They again crossed the bustling streets and navigated down the canals that crossed through the city, leading them straight to the heart of trade. It was a flat mushroom paved area surrounded by a moat of canal water, in this water there was a myriad of rickshaws passing their supplies into open bazaar stands which sold the goods in a chaotic dance. To the merchants this was an extreme that they were used to, to Gane it was like being caught in the thunderstorm all over again. He crossed his arms to hold back the wave of fear and childlike curiosity at everything around him. Yhora handed out a list and told everyone to buy certain items so that they could wrap things up quickly. She kept a wary eye on any Nohanja clan members she saw. 

Gane approached a colorful stand with a stout Neirn woman running it. He was told to buy enough magic from her to power the carriage. Gane greeted her as nicely as he could.

“Hello Ma’am, I’m here for a dram of magic.”

“What sort? Combustible, noncombustible, stick, nonstick, you want something for a runny nose or something to make you go invisible? You really gotta be more specific with magic sweety, there's all kinds and it all comes at very different prices.”

“Just looking for fuel.” Gane considered what she had said for a second. “Can magic really do all that?”

“Of course hun, it’s magic, it can do anything a magician can find a way to make it do, and it can do far more than that, just not consistently.” Seeing the look on Gane’s face she knew she could have charged him double the going rate for fuel, but the city hadn’t made her that cynical yet. She charged the normal rate and as he handed over the essers, she leaned in and told him quietly. “Be careful about askin’ questions in the big city hun, people here can make a living by takin’ advantage of the ignorant.”

Gane nodded his head and thanked her, he wasn’t sure what he’d done wrong, but he got out of it with what he came for, as far as he was concerned that was a victory. 

At another end of the bazaar, Yhora perused the stock of travel rations for sale, she held a pouch of them in her hand and analyzed them, but her attention was slowly drawn away by an unnatural shifting in the crowd around her. Bodies moved around like the shaft of a constrictor snake. Yhora glanced up and saw ribbons from her own clan, there was no doubt anymore. Had she been given another second’s notice, Yhora would have leapt into the air to make her escape, but the encroaching Nohanja guards kicked her legs out from under her. Yhora tumbled over but managed to catch one hand on the edge of the kiosk table she was at. She was unharmed but thoroughly cornered. 

There were at least ten Nohanja clan soldiers around her, a familiar face helped her up but held her wrist as if she was a common criminal. Captain Liswaya, her former close friend and superior officer produced a pair of cuffs and ordered her to come quietly. 

“What is the meaning of this!” Yhora demanded as he locked shackles to her hands. He wore ribbons and trappings hanging off his mighty antlers with sky blue war paint over his eyes and dressed in leather armor, with a tsuk and a bandolier of bombs. 

“You know all too well what the meaning is deserter!”

Yhora began to try and explain herself. “Captain Liswaya, I meant to come and explain myself to you and the chief. You know me well, I would not run off over noth-”

The captain slapped her on the face. “I know nothing of you anymore! For all we know you could have run off with the Jaarekins! I don’t want to hear any more out of you until you’re brought before the court for your crimes!”

Gane, having seen the commotion, came running forward to Yhora’s defence. Zoll and Kayseri came swiftly with him. “Wait! We haven’t done anything wrong, we’re here to complete the Restu-Ouagh!” The captain tripped Gane as he approached with one swift pull from the hooked end of his tsuk, and Gane tumbled face-first into the shroomy ground. Zoll bent down to help pick Gane up from his pile of shame, but Kayseri marched forward towards the crowd of armed Roni warriors.

“Hold just one second! We are the lady’s protection, and I for one wont stand for this!”

Yhora didn’t attempt to put up a fight against the soldiers holding her bound, for one thing resisting would only make things worse, and they were of her clan after all. Yhora attempted to tell Kayseri as much, but could scarcely be heard over the rising commotion.

Kayseri continued thunderously. “As the short one was saying until you so rudely tripped him without warning, we have come with a righteous cause, and you have obliged me, as there protection, to intervene!”

Captain Liswaya waived him off dismissively. “Yes, yes, you’ll still get your money you swillspitting mercenary.”

Upon this remark, Kayseri went quiet, he stared forward with daggers in his eyes at this pompous villain who had dared to accuse him, a Savac Knight mind you, of not only being ungifted in the way of words, but of being a mercenary, a common sellsword who wished only to get his money. This would not stand, and Zoll knew it. He ran forward and stood between Kayseri and the captain, trying to get his attention.

“Kay! Kay! You have to listen to me, escalating this will only make things worse for everyone. If you’ll only stand back now we can…”

Kayseri did not even so much as acknowledge Zoll’s being there. This was no longer about the vicious, cowardly way that this man had captured and attacked his companions, it was about his honor as a son of the Savac Order. As the Roni soldiers began to turn and carry Yhora away, Kayseri called out to their captain again. 

“A DUEL!”

“I’m sorry?” Captain Liswaya spun around with a bit of confusion, though he never lost the cockyness in his expression.

“A duel, single combat, on your honor.”

The Soldiers stirred and looked to their captain for his response. Captain Liswaya stood silent for a moment. The streets had been silenced, and the once bustling mouths of merchants hung open in shock. Yhora and Zoll had froze, any chance they had to try and de-escalate things was gone. Gane slinked over to Zoll’s side at the edge of the open square where Kayseri and the captain stood before one another. He had learned enough from his grandfather to know that challenge to a duel was not to be taken lightly. 

Captain Liswaya stepped forward towards Kayseri and away from his soldiers, they all knew better than to stop a higher officer from responding to a threat on his honor. Liswaya square to fight spoke.

“Very well, I accept, on condition that it is a High Duel.” The crowd gasped and mothers covered their children’s eyes and led them away. The crowd waited as silent as bird hunters.

A Low Duel was a battle with bare hands or other nonlethal weapons, it is used for settling disputes of pride or romance. High Duels were reserved for the very echelons of disputes, an insult that sees a man expelled from town, a child avenging their father, two princes contesting a throne. During a High Duel lethal and magical weapons are drawn and the winner cannot be sent to court for a victory. All duels were presumed to be Low Duels until otherwise stated, which is why this statement had gotten such a reaction. Liswaya was in a difficult position, a leader of soldiers could not lose a Low Duel without losing his rank and respect, so for him, the stakes had only risen for his adversary.

Kayseri was not one to reuse; however he wouldn’t have offered, seeking to kill is banned by the Savac Code. “A High Duel it shall be!”

Yhora watched in horror as they raised the stakes against one another, she didn’t want to see harm come to either of them, but there was no stopping a duel that had come this far, she wouldn’t have backed down in their place. 

Liswaya drew his tsuk from his belt and held it at the ready, Kayseri drew his blade for the first time that Gane had seen. Both weapons looked intricately crafted and prestigious, the captain’s tsuk looked to be cut from a shining ivory, with the colors of his clan engraved on the sharp trowel end. Kayseri’s blade shined like moon silver, with a wind-like swirl running up its length. They stood still, staring into one another’s eyes with a mutual stoicism. It seemed for a moment that neither would make a move, until Kayseri let slip a final taunt.

“Your men are watching captain.”

Liswaya charged forward for two steps before leaping with a Roni adeptness and swinging the blunt end of his tsuk down at Kayseri, who ducked out of the way and carried his blade in a graceful counter attack. The blade cut armor and rang out in a horrible noise like silverware cutting a platter. Liswaya was unharmed but enraged, he grabbed his tsuk with two hands and threw out two more heavy blows from the blunt end. Kayseri tipped his weight back and danced away from every slug and strike. In response, he took the advantage by launching a flurry of swings from his longsword. Liswaya struggled to parry, nearly losing grip of his tsuk and stumbling to stay on his feet. Kayseri finished his offensive with one large swipe of his sword to clear away his opponent’s guard followed by a hard kick straight in the stomach.

Liswaya toppled back onto the ground, panting and heaving after the blow to his gut. Kayseri stood above him, sword in hand and ready to bring down a devastating blow. Thinking fast the Captain removed a bomb from his bandolier with his free hand and tossed it at his attacker. The magical bomb went off with a wave of shock and a noise that echoed across the city, Kayseri was disarmed and thrown flat on his back across the square. Screams and commotion hand cut through the tension as the bomb went off, it was not strong enough to kill anyone there, but was made for subduing large animals, and as such caused a significant amount of damage. Liswaya shuffled up and took his tsuk in hand to finish the duel. As he approached, Kayseri, who was quick in situations like this, reeled back and pushed with his arms so that he was back on his feet. Kayseri rolled away from Liswaya’s attack and responded in kind with a slash at his right ribs. The blade’s weight crashed through the armor on direct contact and caused a splash of blood to spill forth from the captain's side. Liswaya yelled out in pain clutched at his wound while delivering a blow from his blunt end into Kayseri’s cheek. Kayseri’s nose began to gush blood, but he kept his head in order. He shook his head to keep his wits about him, while Liswaya curled his cut undershirt and tabbed it at the blood coming from his side. The two adversaries again glared at one another, panting and shaking with rage, they both lunged forward to have at each other again. Their advance was marred by a cloud of smoke which charged in between them, they screeched to a halt and waved the thick smog out of their faces. Coughing and hacking as the smoke cleared, Gane stood between them. Before they could think to attack again Gane yelled out before them and the crowd. 

“By the sacred law of Duelsmanship this contest has been sullied! Through the intervention of a third party, the duel will cease, both participants will have their honors intact, and all potential dishonor will fall upon me, the one who interfered!” He felt a strange sense of pride as he spoke the words, he had essentially voided any sense of warrior’s honor that could ever befall him, and he had done so by reciting an old rule his grandfather Rojon had once told him. He deactivated the smokeheart and let it wisp away as the crowd began to see him. He was receiving looks of almost every emotion he could recognise.

Liswaya and Kayseri were speechless, the captain slumped back into the arms of his soldiers and Kayseri sat down beside Zoll. Gane was right, the duel was void because of his interference. He looked at the edge of the crowd and saw that there were far more soldiers than there had been at the start of the fight, coming from all different clans that inhabited the city. They cuffed Gane, interfering with a duel might nullify it, but it was also a crime. He was hauled off by the guards and looked to Yhora who was being taken with him. She smiled at him and mouthed “Thank you” before they were led in different directions down the street.