The King of Corsairs Tournament, part 1 (AoA)

I all but skipped onto the ship, twirling on the deck and turning to seize Kaede’s hands and spin her as well. “Off to Aradjiah, off to Urghuum!” I sing-songed in a cheerful voice, then stopped by the wheel to give it an enthusiastic spin, making the mate cringe.

“Don’t you take ANYTHING seriously, Lord Garath?!” Kaede snapped at me, flushing brilliantly.

I smirked and leaned in close to her, my face mere inches from hers. “Now that’s a better color on you,” I purred, touching my gloved fingers to her chin and stroking it, then laughing and dodging away when she snapped out a katana on me. “Hey now, hey now, don’t get all violent!”

A faint snicker from behind her reminded me we weren’t alone. I stepped around Kaede and bent to help the boy she was bringing along—well, assistant, not boy, I mentally amended, more like an apprentice from what I’d gathered—bring up Kaede’s things. From the way his lips were faintly twitching, he was suppressing a laugh. I winked at him, lugging up a bag with a loud, theatrical groan. “Probably stuffed full of rocks too,” I stage-whispered. “We both know she’s not bringing makeup.”

“Lord Garath!” Kaede looked about two inches from exploding now. “Will you PLEASE stop teasing me and take this seriously?! The tournament is three days from now and you just keep—“

I waved a dismissive hand, then stuck it out to the boy. He was rangy, just on the cusp of filling out properly, with his hair up in one of those gang topknots. He had sheltered, defensive eyes, but gave me a half-smile when he caught my gesture. I smiled back at him much more warmly. “Garath of Ephramad, Viceroy and Captain of the Pearline Swan—“ I indicated my ship with an enthusiastic sweep of my arm. “And most importantly, the most consummate gambler in the whole of Vana’diel!”

He did smile at that. I guess I’m one of those morons that’s hard to take seriously. “You’re kinda young to be a Viceroy aren’t you?” He shook my hand though. “Ranulfe Elspeth. I’m learning the Far Eastern arts under Master Kaede.”

“I’m surprised you have the nerve to train under a man-killer like that,” I laughed. “Have you ever seen Imperial Aht Urhgan before, Ranulfe?”

“Can’t say I have,” Ranulfe admitted with an embarrassed half-smile. “I’m originally from Bastok, before I shipped off to Norg.”

“Well, a man hasn’t lived before he’s seen the Jewel of the Near East.”

“He’s right enough about that, Ranulfe,” Kaede assured him. “It’s an impressive city, and host to this—insane tournament that the Ephramadians are putting on.”

“Tournament?”

I suppressed a chuckle, tugging down on the brim of my tricorne. “You’ll see when we get there. You’re not old enough to enter, and since your mistress here has declined, I guess that means you get to cheer me on. Shouldn’t be hard, I’ve got it in the bag after all. They might as well write my name on the prize already!”

Ranulfe’s eyes burned with curiosity, and he turned towards Kaede. She jerked her chin, still irked by me. “It’s a… gambling tournament, for lack of a better way to put it. The corsairs have opened a great tournament to anyone who wishes to enter that meet certain basic requirements. Since they have no king, this joker has been telling me they plan on crowning the winner of the tournament the King of Ephramad. But I’m sure it’s just a huge gil prize and maybe a boat or two.”

“SHIP, my darling, SHIP,” I corrected her cheerfully. “Boats are for fishing, rowing, and romantic moonlight rendezvous with a lovely lady or two in some secluded cove.” My eyes unfocused as I stared off into the distance. “Ahh, the rocking of the boat adds so much to the fun….”

“Are you telling weird stories again, Garath?”

I spun immediately at the voice from behind me, the owner of which was a graceful Mithran lady stepping from the inside cabin. “Little mother!” I placed my hand at her waist and turned to guide her gently to Kaede and Ranulfe. “This is the lady who has raised me from early childhood, Seikatsu of Windurst.” I smiled down at her affectionately. “It takes a certain kind of patience and/or insanity to put up with me on any sort of regular basis, so I have nothing but the utmost love and affection for her.”

Seik smiled shyly at Kaede and Ranulfe, a long shawl pulled around her shoulders. “Hello,” she said in her soft, biddable voice. “My name is Seik… I believe we’ve met, Miss Kaede, many years ago in Bastok…” Her blue eyes wandered over to Ranulfe. “And I believe you said your last name was Elspeth…?”

Ranulfe stiffened slightly. My hand, now on Seik’s shoulder, tightened slightly. “Yes, ma’am,” he said in a controlled voice.

She paused, picking up on his tone, and smiled slightly, bowing her head. “Your eyes are like your mother’s. I’m pleased to meet you.”

He started, clearly taken aback, and I immediately jumped into the conversational opening. “Well then, little mother, if you’re ready to head back to Aht Urhgan, we need to set off with the tide! We can swap war stories on the way over.”

***

“Dreaming of chocobos the night before a journey is supposed to be lucky, right little mother?” I asked her conversationally, brushing out her long hair before bed.

She glanced back at me. “What do you mean, Garath? Chocobos?”

I smiled at her cheerfully, my eyes closed. “Yep! Rampaging chocobos, each with seven tailfeathers, of every color. And then they turned into clouds, and I shot them apart with my gun.” I drew that gun with a flourish of one hand, spinning the chamber idly before snapping it back in its thick wivre-hide holster. “I think it means that seven is going to be my lucky number tomorrow.”

Seik smiled in her mild-mannered way, drawing her hair back across her shoulder to loosely braid. “Are you prepared…? This is a big responsibility for you if you win, Garath, and if you lose I don’t want you to become despondent….”

I smirked, patting her shoulder lightly, before swinging my legs out of the chair and heading for my own cabin. “Worry about yourself, little mother. Are YOU ready?”

She blinked up at me. “What do you mean…?”

I paused, my hand on the doorlatch, then glanced back at her thoughtfully. “I’d bet any sum you cared to name—and you know how I don’t lose—that HE’S going to be there tomorrow, too.”

Her face went pale. I smiled at her more gently now, fighting off the slight twinge of jealousy. I didn’t have to say who I meant. To Seik, there was only one “him.” A bit lonely for me, I guess—I wished for a moment that someone felt that way about me. But then, that’s not something that can be controlled, after all, and perhaps not even something to be envied. “Doesn’t matter though, little mother,” I added, before heading out the door. “If he’s dumb enough to go up against me in the tournament, he’ll be taken down just the same.”

***

I’ll never forget the morning we sailed into the horseshoe-shaped harbor of the Imperial capital. Although this tournament was hosted by the Viceroys of Ephramad and under the auspices of the Rogue Faction, it was officially endorsed by Nashmeira II, and the Empire’s subjects were out in force. The seven ships in the harbor, all Ephramadian, were gleamingly clean and festooned with brilliant banners and pennants, all snapping in the wind under a brilliant sun. My own ship I’d ordered scoured while we were at sea, and I had us run up banners in Norg’s colors as well as Ephramad’s, to indicate the esteemed personages I was ferrying to the tournament festivities.

Ranulfe stood at the railing on the stern, his face alight at the sight of the throng that awaited us. The entire of the harbor quay was packed with people, spectators and entrants alike, the latter still registering for the tournament in long lines that wrapped throughout the Merchant’s Quarter. I grinned, leaning against the rail next to him, trying to look at the colorful crowds from a stranger’s perspective. “All of these people are here for the tournament?” he asked me in an awed voice.

“Probably!” I said cheerfully. “A good bit are likely entering.”

“All of these people are going to have a shot at being King of Ephramad…?”

I chuckled. “Likely not. It’s kind of a long story. Ephramad has seven Viceroys—we’re basically the seven captains of the Ephramadian fleet. Each of us has a flagship like this one, and several other minor ships working under us, each with their own crew. But none of us are actually descendants of the last Ephramadian king.” I made a rueful face, glancing sidelong at him. “Prince Luzaf was the only true Ephramadian heir, and he’s long dead.” I spread my arms. “The royal family used to be Elvaan anyway, and none of that line is still alive in this day, not even a distant relative that we’ve been able to find. Too many years, too much secrecy and interbreeding.”

“But why a tournament?”

“Well, we needed a king, and it’s a very Corsairy way of doing things.” I grinned at him. “It won’t be an easy trip to the end though. For one thing, each Viceroy designed one of the games, and we hired foreign mercenaries to administer the tournament so that we could enter as well if we chose. That way there’s no allegations of throwing it or designing it to benefit one party or another. Also, every single one of the games is a game of chance.”

Ranulfe blinked. “So in the end, the luckiest person is going to win?”

I smirked a moment. “But there’s a good deal of skill involved in luck, Ranulfe. A canny gambler uses observation, logic, problem-solving, quick wits, and determination to spin the odds in his favor. Of course, it doesn’t always work, so that’s where pure luck comes in—but any leader is going to have to deal with raw chance as well. The smartest, wisest, kindest leader in the world could be felled by a stray arrow at any moment.” I shrugged. “We corsairs believe in luck a lot, and we also believe in doing all that we can to manipulate luck. Whatever poor sucker makes it through all seven games in one piece will likely be an able problem-solver as well as damn lucky, and neither trait is bad to have as the King of Corsairs.”

“But you’re going to win?” Ranulfe smiled at me.

“Of course! It’s been my dream forever to be the greatest corsair alive, and how better to be than to be the first and mightiest King of the Corsairs?” I tossed my head, then winked at him. “Still, I bet it’s not going to be easy, so if you get bored, cheer for me okay?”

“Garath!” Kaede called up to me. “Better get going if we’re going to make it there for the opening ceremony!”

And before I knew it, I was on a platform on the docks as a tall Hume man before me prepared to give a speech to the crowd. I eyed the other six Viceroys, all of us in our finest, with giddy anticipation—and a bit of sizing up of the competition, as well. To a man (and woman; one of the other Viceroys was an exceedingly vigorous Elvaan lady that I’d had the opportunity to make extensive acquaintance with), we were entering the tournament. We all wanted to be the best.

Kaede stepped forward. “In the name of the government of Norg and the organization known as the Tenshodo, we will validate the winner of these games—“ She grimaced, hating the words that were coming out of her lips. “—as the King of Ephramad and lord of all Corsairs.”

“In the name of Her Imperial Majesty, Nashmeira II, in the capacity of Grand Vizier of the illustrious and eternal Empire of Aht Urhgan, and by agreement of the Seven Viceroys,” the tall Hume man declaimed in a sonorous voice, “we do declare the King of Corsairs Tournament started! May the best man win!”

A saucy Mithra stepped before the seven docked ships and the amassed crowd, and they hummed in excitement. I think she was the one we agreed to be the chief administrator of the tournament—her company wasn’t the cheapest, but she was the only one who had any sort of experience in this sort of thing. And to be honest, she wasn’t hard on the eyes either, if you get my meaning, though I’m not sure if I specifically would take a chance on asking her out, not least because of the huge Morningstar she seemed to carry at all times. She pointed it now at the assembled entrants. “You hearrrd the man!” she all but crowed. “Come forth when your numbers are called for the first round of the King of Corsairs Tournament! I call it—‘Ultra Explosive BCG Elimination Excitement’!”

As the Raven flies. (AoA)

This world is rotten.

I am not the first, nor the last to think such a thing, but it was a realization that came to me slowly. I suppose it began to dawn upon me shortly after I found the first black strand interwoven with the gold.

I have nothing left to live for, after all.

I spent many years in the cold. I am not entirely sure why, exactly. Those memories grow fainter with each passing year. Their faces grow dim. I remember a sightless child, his back turned to me, the snow driving all around, whipping his soft cloth robes. I remember a woman with pale golden hair, the smoothness of her naked alabaster shoulder, lying slowly upon sand. I remember an Elvaan with flowing red hair and eyes that lashed and burned, the way his lips twisted, the way his eyes anguished. I remember kneeling before delicate, tiny-boned feet sheathed in velvet. I remember a cermet door, and my soul perishing on the other side.

It was supposed to be my destiny, I think, to die on the other side of that door. Perhaps that is why the black appeared.

So, I wandered in the cold. It was for several years, I think, and memories grew hazy, the mind apathetic to forget. It was silent there, and the entire world held its breath as it shifted beneath my feet. I grew stronger, twisting in mind and body even as my arts sharpened to a finely-honed edge. I have never been so powerful as I am now, and my thoughts have grown sharp and clear, as well.

I had nothing left to live for, I thought to myself at that time, and I yanked away the black when it appeared. Death will surely come on swift wings for me. Those who have nothing to lose are extraordinarily dangerous, but toward what end did I sharpen my skills, hone my craft? What good was a warrior without his soul?

I left the cold at that time, although I was not particularly sure where I was going, or what I would do there. I simply walked. I had money aplenty, though I cared little for it anymore, and took jobs such as interested me, abandoning them undone if they tired me. I felt nothing more like love or hatred in my heart, and my mind felt clear and uncluttered. The voices of others, unheard for so long, sounded loud in my heart and in my ears, and I sorted them disinterestedly. Where once I would have held my mind back for fear of prying or intruding, I now looked dispassionately. I wanted to know how others' minds worked. I wanted to know if I could find the secret to this clarity in their own noisy consciousnesses.

What I found was filth and depravity, selfishness and desire, greed and lasciviousness. Not even children were pure; even the wisest of elders thought only of themselves and their own shallowness. Human minds, I realized, were as a pool of pure, clean water upon which floated a thick film of black oil, filthy and viscous. No matter how I thirsted for the water beneath the refuse, I could not reach into that water without first plunging myself through the oil. And yet, plunge I did, again and again, straining through the taint of human weakness for that seed of light that had to be within each person.

The more I reached into human hearts in such a way, the greater the blackness spread, so that soon, the gold was mostly hidden. The result was somewhat visually unappealing, but I could no longer cut the black away from the gold, or brush my hair in such a way that the black was hidden. The black was encroaching, becoming the predominant color. I had not been among people for some time, but nor had I communed with the souls of animals; it was in humans that my detached interest lay, and in humans that I sought the answer. My Beastmaster's clothes lay under a thick layer of dust, and I forswore heavier armors for only the lightest of hakama and loose robes. I rarely felt cold or heat as it was. I had become barely alive, I think, and yet my mind was as alert and awake as it ever was.

I understood people now. I saw with open eyes the answers to all of the mysteries that had troubled me in my youth. Why he had vanished--why she had turned toward me--why he raged and burned so--why she closed the door behind her. The answers to everything lay within that filth that lay upon each of their souls. And, I supposed, my own. Perhaps this was the meaning of the black that had encroached onto me.

I am utterly alone in this knowledge. I alone of all of the ancients remain. I linger among humanity yet, but I am as removed from them as a single black raven amidst a flock of docile white geese; and I alone know how this must be fixed.

The answer has come to me. I alone am free from love, free from attachments, free from reasons to live, free to raise my hand and push open the Gate of the Gods. For I understand now with this complete clarity why Kam'lanaut and Eald'narche thirsted so for perfection. Only in the torrent of power that washes from the the Gate may mankind be cleansed.

Humanity is evil. I shall purify this Vana'diel, and erase all hint of evil.

This I promise.

Re: Correspondence

Mr. Kre'oss,

I appreciate the letter. I hope that this finds you well. I'm not sure how the Mog Mail system works in the Empire, but I'll be sure to make note of it myself.

Training with Kaede has proved fruitful. I have learned more about the arts of shadow here than I ever thought possible; I think returning to Bastok and the Tenshodo would turn many a head there. I have unlearned several of the useless and incorrect techniques of evading perception. I would like to think I have learned something resembling discipline.

Kaede thinks so as well, I believe. There was been much happening inside the Council and while I do not know the details I know that several of the known members have arranged travel to the Empire. I will be accompanying Lady Kaede as part of her consort; Eyes in the crowd, ears in the streets. Its exciting, to first be trusted enough with such a task and second to be capable of carrying it out.

I do not know where we will be staying, or for how long, or any details that might compromise our safety. I will write you again when I am able or after I have heard back from you, whichever comes first.

Thank you, Master Kre'oss, for having faith in a silly child in a gang.

-R

Correspondence. (AoA)

A letter arrives via Mog Mail to Ranulfe in Norg.

To Ranulfe Elspeth:

I hope you forgive the nature of this correspondence; as chance would have it, I am known to Ms. Kaede, and have in the distant past acquaintance with her family and cause to learn the skills and abilities of a Ninja. Although, I must confess, as you likely noted on board the ship from San d'Oria, I practice more frequently the Far Eastern arts of the Samurai.

Via a few business associates I have in Norg, I have had occasion to follow your adventures, out of concern for how you are faring after the mishap on the ship. I am pleased to hear that you are doing well, with no lasting ill-effects from the adventure. I also must express my sincere desire that the mishap should not adversely affect your own comfort and sense of safety when you traverse the seas.

I am glad that you have fallen into reliable company at Norg. As we discovered on our journey to this place, the world is filled with disreputable villains. One must keep one's eyes open and heart steadfast against impure influences. This is the best way to protect oneself, and those that are important. My own family is long-deceased, but you remind me in some small way of my late son. I wonder if you have any family, and what turn of events brought you to Norg? If this inquiry is overly personal, I understand, but I would much care to learn more about you.

Please write to me should you need any assistance, whether in your work or in anything else that you may require. I shall be traveling this week through the distant lands of the Empire, so I shall respond whenever I am able to access the Mog Mail system. I am hoping to meet with you, when as noted before, you have become stronger. There is much I wish to share with you about current goings-on on the mainland and in other parts of the world. You may have begun to sense it yourself, even at your youthful age, but the Emptiness is growing. Darkness threatens Vana'diel once more, corrupting the minds and hearts of men. You and I are in a position to do something about it.

Until such time as we meet again, Ranulfe, I remain most sincerely,

Kre'oss

----------

Kao'nir lay in waist-high tall grass on the wind-swept plains of La Theine Plateau, his arms crossed under his head, and stared up at the stars.

In his mind's eye, a face stared back, a face he could not forget, a face twisted in anger.

If I could just speak to him again, he would understand. If I could tell him, then he'd take back everything he said before. He'd agree with me. He'd see what I meant. I -have- to do this. It's my purpose in life.

It was the first time since he had left Jeuno that he had thought of anything apart from his duty.