By: Bryant R. Haake, Honors College, Presidential Honors Student, English Major
Georgiana had set out a couple mats she’d found in the back of the cart. She was using them as a cushion to the rocky ground, a tactic which barely worked. The mats seemed to be more decorative than anything, and Jacob could still feel the stones poking at his backside as he settled into his spot on the ground. Still, it was better than nothing.
She’d also started cooking a small meal, though Seraph hadn’t packed much in the way of food. Most of what they had were travel rations. The food Georgiana was cooking was the last of the few vegetables she had brought along, after picking out the seeds to plant later, of course.
Seraph sat down across from Jacob, leaving a seat between them for Crimson whenever she arrived. He thanked Georgiana as she handed him a wooden plate of veggies and some dried meat from their rations. Jacob thanked her as well, and she gathered her own plate. After a few minutes of nothing but the sound of portable utensils on wood and chewing, Seraph gulped down the final bit of his meal and set the plate down, pulling out a large book from under his cloak.
“Would either of you care to take a guess at what this is?”
Jacob shook his head. Georgiana stared for a while before saying, “Is it a notebook of some kind?”
“Indeed, Miss Georgiana,” Seraph said. “It is a type of notebook, though I like to think of it as much more than something as simple as that. This is my life’s work.”
Seraph drummed his fingers over the smooth leather binding. The cover had no title, only a small message at the bottom that read If found, please return to the estate of Dr. Abraham in Athens for a reward of 2 whales.
“Two whales is a bit excessive for a book, right?” Jacob asked. “I mean, I’m not great with numbers, but that’s like what… a thousand carp?”
“Your math is correct, Mister Jacob,” Seraph nodded, “but I implore you to consider what I just said. This is my life’s work, and so I am willing to pay any price to ensure it is returned to me safely if I somehow grow so careless as to lose it. Then again, if I am to grow that careless, then perhaps I don’t deserve it.”
“What’s inside?” Georgiana asked.
“Well, I am a scholar first, sigilurgist second, bounty hunter and mercenary third! Therefore, it should come as no surprise to you two that this is my tome where I keep all my knowledge on sigils. It is mainly my notes from my university days and fieldwork, but there are some of my own findings, as well. For instance, I record every new use I find for my three sigils in here with as much detail as I can muster.”
“Three sigils?” It was Jacob’s turn for a question. “But we’ve seen you do so many different things, like ice and thunder and turning things into animals and healing. How do you only have three sigils?”
“That is what I mean by new uses, Mister Jacob.” Seraph stood up and began to flip through the pages of his tome. “In sigilurgy, there exist 5 fundamental forces which all sigils are born from. I have three sigils, one from three different types of forces. My Explosion sigil–” he held up the book to display a symbol too intricate for Jacob to understand, “–is part of the Elemental force.” He flipped to the next page. “My wound sigil–” he held up the page which displayed the symbol Jacob had seen him use earlier to heal Georgiana, “–is part of the Divine force. Lastly, my Shape symbol–” he held up an intricate symbol that vaguely resembled something like a canine’s paw, “–is part of the Primal force. Each of these sigils can do so many different things that the limits are practically up to my imagination… within the limits of Sigilurgy, of course.”
Seraph set down his tome and began to draw in the air. Amazingly, glowing symbols began to appear, though it took him almost a full minute to draw even a single one in its entirety. He moved as if to push his hand through the sigil, but stopped just short of doing so.
“You see, the old way of using sigilurgy was to draw each sigil in the air every time you wanted to use one. However, that was slow and ineffective in fast-pace scenarios, such as during a battle.” He dropped his hand and the sigil dissipated. “Instead, we now use pre written sigils.”
Seraph took out a different smaller notebook, the same one he’d used earlier to heal Georgiana. Jacob could see now in the firelight that each page was colored differently and split into three sections: red, gold, and green.
“This is where I’ve written out many different sigils which I can pull out and use at any time. My current limit before I need to recharge my inner magic is three, but I’m hoping to someday be able to use at least ten in a single day. Any more than my limit though, and I’ll likely faint, or just become so weak that I would lose the ability to even move until I rest.”
A thought ran through Jacob’s mind. What would have happened if he had the same weakness as Seraph? He could imagine he and Georgiana running away from the pirates on the night of the blood moon, with her practically carrying him through the desolate buildings. They would’ve been caught for sure, and likely killed given what Captain Leafy had told him.
“So you just need to make sure to only use three sigils per day, right?” Jacob asked. “Have you ever gone over that limit?”
“Oh sure, Mister Jacob. Many times, in fact, though only a few of those times were outside of my own training and experimentation periods. That weakness has only ever almost led to my death a single time, and it was one of the most thrilling experiences of my life. You see, I was–”
A loud thud echoed through the open plain as Crimson finally arrived, dropping a large stone next to Georgiana’s side of their log, across from Seraph. She plopped down on the stone with another thud, already holding her own plate of food. Silence rang through the campsite for a moment before Crimson glanced up and nodded.
“Good food. Go on, angeldust. A story’s a story, no matter who’s telling it. I’ll listen if it’s good.”
Seraph gulped and nodded. “Well, as I was saying it was back near the end of my academy days. I was working on my final project, a special sigil meant to incorporate all three aspects of my sigils. I was getting close to a breakthrough, but I needed to study some more… wild creatures in order to get it to work. Back then I had very little combat training, and most of my knowledge on sigils was purely theoretical or literal. I hadn’t yet gotten into the practical uses of most of them aside from my bird trick.”
“That’s your primal sigil, right?” Georgiana asked.
“Yes, though the exact name is Shape. Anyway, I had tracked down a creature which has been called a few different names depending on where you’re from. Some call it the Thunderbird, the Roc, or many other names. Either way, it was especially difficult to reach due to living in the mountains. I actually had to use a different bird than normal in order to–”
Crimson yawned loudly, making a show of stretching her arms out, up, and back to the sides. Seraph sighed.
“Anyway, I had underestimated the bird’s perceptive capabilities. As it turns out, a bird of prey larger than a building is not easy to sneak up on. As I sat and studied, it eventually saw me, though it did not let me know it had spotted me until it was close enough to strike. I nearly lost my life on the first blow as it gouged out my stomach. I wasn’t quick enough for the second strike either, and it wound up tearing off my arm.”
Jacob glanced at Seraph’s arms. Neither seemed to be fake, and the sigilurgist had been using both equally throughout the time Jacob had known him. Crimson seemed to also be inspecting the man with a look of disgust on her face.
“Even back then I knew it was smart to keep a book of my sigils on hand for such a case,” Seraph continued, blind to the two privateer’s doubtful glances as he had been to the bird. “I quickly drew out two Wound sigils and healed myself, replacing the arm back in its rightful place and regrowing the skin and guts which the bird had already torn away and digested. I tried scrambling away, still in pain from the healed wounds, but the bird was fast. As it came down for another strike, I threw out both pieces of paper on instinct, and the bird ate both as it leered down at me. Right as I was about to be skewered, its stomach exploded, followed by the tearing off of its arm.”
Seraph glanced tensely at Crimson, who was now trying to hide a slightly interested expression. Unfortunately for her, deceit wasn’t in her nature. Seraph smiled.
“That sigil in particular is special. When I use my Wound sigil to heal, it stores the wound in its exact form within the sigil. If the sigil is destroyed, the wound reappears on the person it came from. However, there is a way to release it once it’s been stored. It has to be released onto another creature. When I did so on the bird, it was as if it was attacking itself in the same violent and rabid fashion in which it had attacked me. However, releasing that same energy is like reactivating another sigil. And so, that is the last thing which I can remember after throwing the sigils into the bird’s mouth, as the strain from the pain and use of four sigils knocked me out immediately.”
“So… what’s the limit on the wounds you can heal?” Jacob asked. “Is there a limit?”
“Well of course there’s a limit, Mister Jacob,” Seraph laughed. “There’s a limit to everything, especially sigilurgy. It isn’t some infinite power I can summon three times a day like an all-powerful djinn from the storybooks and plays. For instance, while it can heal every wound I can personally think of, that doesn’t guarantee the safety of the healed individual. Enough shock from the initial wound could theoretically kill them. Additionally, while I can heal the wounds of a dead body, I cannot bring them back from the dead.”
Jacob glanced worriedly at Georgiana as if she could suddenly keel over at any point. She was listening intently to the story and explanation of Seraph’s life and magic, eyes fixed on his angelic mask.
“Welp, that was really an interesting tale, angeldust,” Crimson tried with a bit of fake sarcasm, the hint of a smile evident on her face. “I’m sure we’ll get to hear plenty more riveting tales of your schooldays eventually, but I’m tired and going to sleep. See you maggots in the morning.”
Crimson dragged her rock over to an open patch of dirt a ways away from the cart and campfire, laid down a bedroll, and put a semi-soft sheet over the rock, laying her head down and passing out almost instantly.
“She does know we have actual pillows… right?” Seraph asked.
Jacob and Georgiana both shrugged. Jacob had seen her do similar things back on the ship, using piles of extra wooden boards wrapped in cloth and wool as a pillow instead of the real pillows. Whatever her reason he was glad for it, because it had let him and Georgiana use the actual pillows in place of whatever else they had.
Seraph remarked, “What a strange woman… anyway, I think it best we follow her lead and get some shuteye. We’ll arrive tomorrow in Athens, and we wouldn’t want to show up looking like zombies, now would we?”
Seraph nodded to himself as he talked, moving around and gathering his things once more. He carefully stuffed both notebooks back into his robes and climbed into the cart, quickly putting together his own resting area, this one with an actual pillow. Jacob and Georgiana did the same, forming a sort of double T with Seraph.
Jacob listened for a while to his surroundings. Seraph and Georgiana’s breathing both slowed after a few minutes, making him a little jealous of their ability to fall asleep fast. Finally, as the chirping of crickets began to fill the air, he began to feel his eyes drifting off on their own.
“Hey Ren, no dreams tonight, okay?”
Understandable, Jacobson. Rest well.
The walls of Athens had been named after an ancient battle between them and another warring city. The only issue with that is no one could remember the other city’s name. Instead, most people referenced the walls as “Poseidon’s Walls”. No one could quite remember why that was, either.
“Welcome to the city of knowledge,” Seraph proclaimed as he pulled the cart into the line of visitors, many of them traders coming with wares, or to buy wares to sell at the various seaside towns. “Also known as Athens, or my birth city if you really want to get into the nitty gritty names. I’m sure they’ll know me at the gate.”
Jacob nodded and glanced behind them. They’d ditched the cage in favor of Crimson carrying their two captives like sacks of potatoes. Jacob had offered, but Crimson had denied letting them anywhere near him or Georgiana after hearing what had happened. Georgiana had called her sweet for that act. Crimson had grunted.
“The only reason I’m doing it is because it shows no one gets to mess with my crew. And if anyone tries, they get treated like a sack of sh–”
The cart jostled, rocking Jacob from his thoughts. They were nearing the gate, less than a hundred or so feet now. Guards flanked the gate, spears raised attentively. Each also carried three harpoons on the back and a weighted net bound to their sides. They both wore a protective band around their heads which sported a fine metal-mesh covering over their head and an extension to protect them from the sun. Their armor was more simplistic and didn’t look terribly protective to Jacob, though guns tended to care less about that nowadays anyway. Their shoulders were plated with some golden metal alloy, and their joints were protected, but aside from that they mainly wore thick leather. The final notable feature was a plume of three feathers sprouting from the back of their headband, two reddish and the middle gold.
Seraph trotted the horses up to the checkpoint and pulled back his hood without removing his helmet. Jacob marveled at the man’s hair, a strangely colorful form of black like that of oil or a raven’s feathers. It fell down the back of his head almost to his shoulders before stopping in an intricately crafted point. Why did a man who always hid his hair need to have perfect grooming?
“Goodday, fellows. I am the bounty hunter Seraph, come to collect on a bounty for these two unsavory individuals.”
The guards glanced at each other, then slowly lowered their spears.
“Sorry for the inconvenience, sir, but we’re going to have to bring you in,” the one on the left said.
“Aye,” the one on the right agreed.
“Really now? For what crime? I’ve committed none… in this city.”
“Be that as it may, sir, the boss wants to talk to you.”
Seraph groaned. “She knows where I live, fellows. Can’t you just tell her I’m in town and leave us be? It’d really be much simpler if you did–”
“Not gonna happen, Seraph,” a new voice said behind them.
All but Seraph turned to see a woman in similar armor to the guards, though with more whites mixed in, silver metal, and three large swan feathers instead of the normal three. She wielded two rapiers on each hip, one of which was out and pointed past the cart and at the back of Seraph’s head. Her final feature made Jacob’s skin crawl in a strange way. It was a silver mask like Seraph’s, only this one was engraved with fine marks of pearl, forming the pattern of whales around the edges. The lines converged in the center like the face of a whale, the mouth open to reveal rows of teeth.
“Hello, Ballena,” Seraph said, still refusing to turn and face the newcomer. “What does the captain of the Athenian guard want with little ol’ me?”
“Oh, I think we both know that answer, Ishmael. Let’s head back to your father’s house for a little chat, alright?”
“Yes yes, of course.” Seraph finally turned. “But before that, I would like you to meet my new friends. This is Mister Jacob, Miss Georgiana, and Miss Captain Crimson, as well as our two captives whose names I did not catch. Everyone, I would like you to meet my best friend and captain of the Athenian guard, Miss Ballena Blanca.”
The woman sighed and rolled her eyes, replacing her rapier and raising her other hand to the back of her head. Curly brown strands of her short hair fell as she unbuckled her mask, revealing her face.
“Call me Captain Legion. And if we’re doing the full name thing, Seraph, how about I repay the favor.” Seraph raised a hand and sucked in his breath, but was too slow. “I would like you three to meet my best friend and our city’s best bounty hunter, Quirin Ishmael Cleary.”