Arcane: Painted Tapestries

[The open sea]

Callian watched silently as the ship dropped anchor beside them, observing as its unprofessional, ragtag crew laid down a gangway between the two vessels.

It didn't take the newcomers long to notice the muskets carried by every man on Callian's side, making the first visitor to come aboard visibly wary of them.

"Why the need for the iron, friend?"

The man who spoke held up his hands in surrender, a casual grin ruling his young but weathered features. His green eyes however, scanned the deck with a caution that betrayed his true feelings.

Callian's gaze darted across him; noting his dirty brown tunic, his singular golden earring and the sabre clasped to his belt, which was nothing more than a distraction to keep people from noticing the small knife hidden in his sleeve.

"Just a precaution, nothing more." Replied Davros calmly, drawing the man's attention away from Callian and Zeri.

"Fair enough, I know we don't look like the most honest of folk."

Another set of men began to walk down the gangway, each looking unarmed and unthreatening.

"Your name?" Inquired Callian, his violet eyes still primed upon the newcomer.

"Renalt." He looked down at the shorter man curiously. "And you?"

"I see." Replied Callian flatly. "So then, Renalt, why are you hiding a mage on board your ship?"

The newcomer stared down at the blue-haired man in amusement, his grin slowly beginning to falter when he realised the shorter man wasn't joking around.

"A mage? We don't have a mage on board. What are you talking-"

His sentence broke off as Davros raised his hand, cueing every single man on deck to raise their muskets and aim them toward the talking man.

"Woah woah woah - let's not be hasty now." Renalt quickly raised his hands into the air, and the men who had just stepped aboard followed suit, their expressions turning stiff. "I think I'd know if there was a mage on board my ship."

Callian stared at the man, his violet eyes boring into Renalt's green ones.

He wasn't lying.

Did he truly not know?

"Captain," Callian spoke, now addressing Davros. "He does not seem to be lying, however there is still magic present below their deck. I would like to investigate it."

"Granted." Said Davros, his hand still firmly raised in the air.

"Tell your men to stand down and surrender to a search." He ordered Renalt. "If you truly do not know of the mage's presence then you may have a stowaway on board your ship."

Renalt's expression tightened, his gaze lingering on the blue-haired man before him.

"Alright." He muttered, unable to do anything but comply with the man's demands. "Guys and Gals - Let 'em' on!" He shouted over his shoulder. "And don't try anything funny, they've got a musket aimed at my balls!"

Renault wasn't lying, one of Davros' more obnoxious deckhands was indeed aiming the muzzle of his weapon straight at the man's groin. He didn't seem guilty after being called out on it either.

"Maybe we should then!" A woman jeered loudly, her voice echoing across to them. "You don't need them anyway."

Despite the dire straits he was in, a roguish grin spread across Renalt's face.

"I think your sister would disagree with that!" He called back.

A moment of silence later and a reply was heard. "Fine, we'll do nothing! But if they steal all our shit I'm going to kill your ass after they leave."

Renalt glanced back at Callian, lowering a hand and gesturing him toward the open gangway.

The masked man's violet eyes burned as his blood ignited, the world slowing to a near halt around him.

He took one last look at Zeri's stationary figure before darting up the gangway and stepping onto the foreign ship's deck.

The fire in his blood calmed, and the ship's crew flinched backwards in shock at his sudden appearance next to them.

Callian's eyes blazed with a silent fury, freezing those unfortunate enough to make eye contact with him.

It was nothing more than a show of power, something to keep the crew docile while he ventured below deck. 

Renalt didn't seem to have enough control over them, and Zeri - well… The blue-haired man wasn't confident enough that she could stomach taking another person's life yet, despite her previous agreement.

He would take no unnecessary risks here.

"Do nothing, and live. Resist, and you die." He asserted, pausing to initiate eye contact with each of the crew once more, before striding past and kicking the helm's door wide open.

Callian entered the room, ignoring the large rack of ship essentials lining the far wall and moving toward the cramped, winding staircase to the left.

He walked down the stairs, straining his senses for a clue as to what was hiding down in the hold.

He reached the bottom, stepping out into a dark, vast room.

The belly of the ship was chock-full of crates and bags, so numerous in number that there was barely any space for the array of hammocks that were haphazardly scattered across the large room.

It seemed they weren't slave traders after all. Just tradesmen.

Very well-armed tradesmen.

Callian frowned.

He had never heard of a single honest Bilgewater tradesman before. Ever.

The man eyed the rest of the ship's cargo dismissively, it didn't seem like there was anything special to be found there.

On another note, that same unrestrained arcane aura was coating every surface in the room. It was so overwhelming that it was difficult for Callian to focus in on anything at all.

The shimmer within his blood suddenly exploded, sending a wave of heat blazing through his purple veins.

Time slowed to a halt, and the man whipped around, bringing up his arm to break the string of foreign magic attempting to invade his body.

The runic stones sewn into his vambrace glowed a brilliant jade green, and the thin pink stream was sucked inside.

Callian's violet eyes followed the broken stream back to the hold's ceiling, where a pair of yellow reptilian eyes glowed back at him. His assailant clung to the wooden floorboards above by only their fingertips and toes.

Not a mage, but a Vastaya? And a powerful one at that.

The magic they had attempted to use on him was… Surprisingly, not malicious in nature. It felt curious, wild, and natural.

The Vastaya was a teenager-reptile cross; with a smattering of greenish scales that faded to a dark purple upon reaching below waist height, much of the same colour as her short spiky hair.

She wore primitive tribal attire; a simple brown tunic, paired with shorts and toeless socks.

Callian sighed.

A stowaway, likely an accidental one at that. A girl that was now far, far from home.

How she hadn't been discovered by the crew by now, the man had no idea. Though he supposed he didn't know how long they had been at sea, so it wasn't a complete impossibility.

Now satisfied with his observations, the man's blood burnt out, and time resumed to its normal pace.

"Ah." She squeaked, surprised by the fact her magic had been interrupted.

The girl immediately sent another stream his way, only to have it blocked by Callian's arm once more.

The Vastaya detached herself from the ceiling, flipping midair and down dropping to the ground.

She landed on all fours softly, before streaking toward the masked man and grabbing a hold of his right forearm. She stared at the runic stones sewn into its surface with a childish curiosity.

Callian allowed the Vastaya to run her scaled fingers across his Vambrace, only stopping the girl when she tried to remove it from his arm.

The creature pouted unhappily at his refusal, skittering around his cloaked figure in circles, her long reptilian tail snaking across the wooden flooring behind her.

"Why are you stopping Neeko from becoming you." The Vastaya huffed, coming to a stop after a third rotation. "Your Sho'ma is soooo sleepy." She added, looking somewhat distracted by this latest revelation.

"Sho'ma? What is Sho'ma?" Asked Callian carefully, taking note of the creature's inherently childish disposition.

The Vastaya tilted her head to the side confusedly. "Sho'ma is Sho'ma."

How helpful.

"But what is it?" He repeated, retracting his arm back behind his cloak.

"Uhhhh." The creature tapped its chin thoughtfully. "Aha. Sho'ma are feelings, memories - they are you, and you are them."

Callian was caught off balance by the Vastaya's wording, and what it had implied.

It could see his feelings - memories too? But he had broken the magic, he was sure of it.

The creature could apparently sense his growing alarm, as it darted towards him again.

"Hey what's wrong, Sleepy? What happened?"

"I broke your magic. I'm sure of it. How are you reading my Sho'ma?"

The Vastaya laughed aloud as if he had just asked it the silliest question in the world.

"Neeko doesn't need magic to read your Sho'ma. She needs it to become you."

Callian's mind exploded with an unnatural, shimmer-fueled rage.

This creature, who seemed no older mentally than a child, had bypassed every defence he had and read directly into his mind. 

The Vastaya shrank back, her slit pupils dilating in pure terror.

It could feel it, better than anything else. The deranged madness that hid beneath his calm exterior.

"You." He spoke, his quiet voice dripping with fury. He took a step toward the young creature that was now rigid with fear. "You read my memories?"

"N-no." It replied, stuttering. "Neeko c-can't without being you. J-just feelings."

Callian's rage receded as quickly as it had come, the shimmer-induced madness fading back into nothingness.

"I see." He said, walking past the downed Vastaya dismissively.

If that was the case, he had no further reason to be here. His curiosity had been sated, and there was no risk of his origins being revealed.

"H-hey!" The creature called out to him. Callian didn't falter, instead continuing his stride and entering the stairwell. "Neeko is sorry, okay? She didn't know you wouldn't like having your Sho'ma read."

The man paused, glancing back to reply. "It is of no consequence, but do not try it again. There will not be a second time." He warned.

With that final message, Callian continued his walk back up the stairwell.

The man idly noted that 'Neeko' was hesitantly following behind him. On the ceiling.

"Why are you following me?" He asked it calmly.

"Your Sho'ma, it's so sleepy - why?"

The man hesitated.

"Because I have lived for too long."

And left too many behind.

The creature seemed to ponder his words.

"You're like the boars back home." It decided, speaking its thoughts aloud. "Sleepy, strong, and sometimes angry."

"How astute." Replied the man dryly. "Nothing is lost on you it seems."

Neeko puffed out her chest proudly, the sarcasm in his statement apparently lost on the childlike Vastaya.

"Boars are good at protecting their family." She said, her tone thoughtful. "Do you have a family?"

Callian thought back to his original timeline. Back to the people he left behind.

"No." He answered shortly. "Not anymore."

"Sleepy is lying, and he doesn't even know it."

The man stilled at Neeko's comment, coming to a halt just outside of the stairwell's entrance.

Zeri… She reminded him of Isha.

Fuck…

"I suppose I am." He amended quietly.

The Vastaya grinned, satisfied.

"Hey Sleepy?"

He glanced toward the ceiling where Neeko hung.

The grin slid off the girl's face. "Neeko doesn't have any family left. Can Neeko… Join your pack?"

The blue-haired man stayed silent for a moment, contemplating this new development.

"Why?" He asked.

"Neeko doesn't have anything left. No home. No family. All gone."

The loneliness ruling the Vastaya's face aged her. She didn't seem like a child anymore. No child could bear that kind of sadness.

It made Callian wonder if this was what hid behind her childish exterior.

"Why me?" He pressed gently.

She dropped to the ground, coming face to face with him. Her reptilian eyes lingered on his own violet ones.

"Your Sho'ma, it's sleepy. Like a boars. Like… Father's."

Callian considered the creature before him, evaluating it.

It possessed an empathy on par with mind-reading; its magic could read memories, and it could shapeshift.

It also seemed easy to manipulate. A low-maturity, high-dependency child would be easy to keep a handle on.

He could always abandon it later if the creature proved to be problematic.

So, Callian posed the Vastaya a question. "I will be heading to Shimura and will live there for the foreseeable future. Are you prepared to live in that kind of environment?"

"Shimura? What is Shimura?" Neeko queried, curious.

"A desert. No trees, no flowers, and barely any animals."

"Oh." It replied, eyes downcast. "For so long, why?"

"I have an extremely important task to complete there and I am not leaving until it is completed."

The Vastaya frowned unhappily, scratching its head, clearly torn.

"Fine, Neeko will come with you, Sleepy." It said, finally deciding on a course of action.

"Very well." Said Callian, pushing the last door open and striding forward onto the deck.

He found, that unsurprisingly, not a single member of the foreign crew had moved from where he had left them.

Normal humans were no more than ants when faced with the brunt of his salgi.

Callian walked past them, hopping onto the gangway and moving back to where Renalt and his fellows were still being held hostage.

The nervous Neeko followed close behind his retreating figure, her odd appearance citing numerous stares from both sides.

"Captain." Said Callian, addressing the wide-eyed man standing before him. "This is Neeko. She is a skilled spirit mage. From this moment forth, consider her a part of my faction."

The steely man pushed past his confusion quickly, posing an important question to Callian. "Can she be trusted?"

Could she be trusted?

"I will manage her." The masked man replied firmly.

"Very well." Groused Davros. "So our pirate friends here are off the hook?"

"We aren't pirates." Protested an offended Renalt, who promptly shut up under the seething glare the older man sent his way.

"So it would seem," Callian responded, ignoring Renalt entirely.

Davros turned back to his captive, seemingly considering their conversation over.

"Renalt was it? You wanted to trade with us?" 

Callian walked away, signalling the silent Zeri to follow him and Neeko below deck.

They had much to discuss.

—

(Total word count: 2420)