The Azure Mage, Merloine

Upon the return to the shack, Kuchisake looked Elias over and pressed another cup of tea into his hands. A few sips soothed his nerves. The facsimile of Tibby grew distant in his mind. Even the memory of her voice grew faint. He went to sleep that night.

That evening, Elias dreamt of home. The houses were cubic with triangular roofs. The shape didn’t quite look right, when he tried to remember what should’ve been there instead, a fog fell over his mind. The people still made sense though. He remembered Tibby dutifully practicing her fencing and accounting, her mother tending to the garden by their home. Old Barnes baked an apple pie for them, and his daughter brought it over with a smile. She gave Elias the biggest slice. He wasn’t sure why she was so nice to him.

When morning came, a knock on the bedroom door woke Elias.

“The boat’s ready,” said Bill. “Fill your belly and have a bath first. And then we’ll go see Merloine.”

Elias bathed and had breakfast. Bill kissed Kuchisake’s forehead before he led Elias out to a rowboat. It lay moored on the water, bobbing up and down on the jet black ink. As they drew near, he saw bright blue glyphs lining the sides and presumably the underside of the boat as well. They shone brighter when Bill climbed into the front seat, and brighter still when Elias climbed into the rear seat. As he climbed in, he saw a waterskin underneath Bill’s seat, as well as that jar of sirentree…sap, Elias surmised. He shuddered.

“Take an oar and when I row left, you row right,” Bill said. “And the other way around.”

Elias did so. The ends of each oar bore a similar blue glyph on the ends. When they touched the water, the oars parted them like a knife through hot butter. Elias snuck glances to the left, and saw that they rode past another, larger island than the one with Bill and Kuchisake’s shack. This larger one had people. Elias squinted at their distant figures. They appeared divided into two teams, their bodies clad in swimsuits of different colors. Members of each team launched a ball into the air before passing it to each other.

“Who are they?” said Elias.

“Some of Merloine’s people.” Even as he spoke of them, Bill did not turn to look at them. His gaze stayed fixated on the path forward. “They’re friendly. You’re gonna like them.” Bill’s tone was firm, as though Elias had no choice, but that didn’t make sense. He must’ve wanted to reassure Elias, that’s all.

If they were some of that man’s people, perhaps he guided them to these islands. As they passed that island, Elias saw small rectangular buildings amongst the trees. It didn’t seem like that island had to fear sirentrees.

“Is there some sort of trick to those sirentrees?” said Elias.

“Just ignore the voices,” said Bill. “As long as you don’t give them thoughts to work with, they’re just weird trees.” There was a long silence. “I know it’s harder than I make it sound. I heard my pa’s voice. After years of going without it, I latched on like a moth to a flame.” Bill sighed. “But life gets better if you’re willing to make a few sacrifices here and there.”

“You knew your father well then?” said Elias.

Bill’s body shifted. His shoulders sagged for a moment, before returning to their upright posture.

“If you mean the wretch that walked out on my ma, then no,” said Bill. “But the man that taught me to shoot and ride…he was a good man. A bit rough around the edges, but a good man.” He sighed. “When my kid is ready, I hope to be half the pa he is. Or was.” A wistfulness coated Bill’s every word, as though he wanted nothing more in the entire world.

Elias blinked at the mention of Bill’s child. Kuchisake hadn’t looked pregnant, but he knew better than to pry into that.

“I’m sure you and Kuchisake will be good parents,” Elias said, even if he couldn’t imagine that horror of a woman becoming a mother. “My father died when I was really small. Don’t remember him too well. Mum had to raise my sister and me by herself, but at least she had help from the rest of the town.”

“My mum was the same way,” Bill said. “Wonder what she’d think of me now if she were here and watching me work.” He laughed, but it wasn’t a pleasant sound.

“Wouldn’t she be pleased with you?” said Elias. “You saved my life, gave me a place to stay, and are even bothering to help me at all. When you could’ve just let me wander the beach or end up drowning in that ink ocean.” His voice fell to a solemn murmur. “Thanks for that, by the way. To you and Kuchisake both.”

There was a long moment of silence before Bill answered.

“You’ll have to do your part when the time comes,” he said. “You will. Won’t you?” The quiet pressure in Bill’s voice coaxed a nod from Elias. The man had done right by him so far, after all.

“If you hadn’t saved me, what would that...fake Tibby have done?” Elias shuddered as he remembered those twitching fingers reaching out toward him.

There was a long silence.

“Are you sure you want to know?” said Bill. Elias nodded, and he sighed. “Those things aren’t like you or me. They’re both bait that weird tree makes that lures its next meal, and after it gets enough to eat, that thing emerges fully from the tree, leaves, and bursts into seeds that’ll end up as the next generation of sirentrees. Seed Puppets, I call them.”

“So they’re just bait, and then a walking seed bomb? Like a dandelion?”

“Something like that,” said Bill. “They can drain the life from living things to keep themselves going, to grow the seeds inside them. So you’d have ended up a husk if that thing got a hold of you.”

Elias shivered.

“They’re not really alive then?” Even as he spoke, Elias remembered the anger in the fake Tibby’s snarls.

Bill squirmed for a moment, as though uncomfortable.

“It depends,” said Bill. Before Elias could probe, however, Bill waved the question aside. “Anyway, just don’t let yourself get ensnared again. I may not be around to save you next time.”

“Right. Thank you.”

As they sailed past the island and morning gave way to noon, the sun overhead warmed him. Thirst tightened his throat.

“Is there anything to drink?” croaked Elias.

“My waterskin is under the seat, on the left,” said Bill. “Careful you don’t drink the jar of sirentree sap.”

“Thanks.” Elias scrounged it and took a long swig. His throat quaffed down mouthfuls of coconut milk until he could bear the heat once more.

They sailed past the larger island and its people, and reached a smaller one. Bill maneuvered the boat towards this smaller island, and Elias followed his lead. They made landfall and disembarked. There was no shack like Bill’s and Kuchisake’s near the shore. The shoreline was entirely bare. Past this shore, tall trees and thick vines created a shroud of green that covered the majority of the island. Much like the greenery that Elias had stepped into when he’d encountered the sirentree.

His heart thudded fast in his chest as Bill led him toward the greenery.

“Are you sure it’s safe?” said Elias. “There won’t be another of those sirentrees?”

“Merloine has them under control.” Bill beckoned Elias to follow with a sweep of his arm, and they ventured deep. Despite Bill’s reassurances, Elias still looked around. He rocked on the balls of his feet, ready to break into a sprint at the first sign of trouble. But the trees seemed normal. Squirrels squeaked and climbed trees. Birdsong twittered through the air. The shade of the trees coaxed a sigh of relief from him. It reminded him of the forest near his hometown, and the sense of familiarity put a spring in Elias’ step.

They walked down the path. Bill turned corner after corner until Elias wondered if this was more of a maze. Finally they arrived at what must’ve been the heart of the island. A stone tower loomed over them, the top brushing the treetops. Bill led him to the wooden front door of the tower. A faintly glowing blue crown symbol was etched into the door. Bill knocked five times in a musical pattern. After a few moments, the blue sheen faded from the symbol and the door swung open.

Bill motioned Elias inside, and they ascended a spiraling flight of stairs leading to the top. A pair of women garbed in form-fitting clothing made from black fabric stood halfway up the stairs, as though guarding what lay at the top. Metal helmets covered their heads. One carried a fencing sword at her hip, and the other bore an immense axe upon her back that looked as though it might crush her equally petite frame. But it didn’t. The one with the rapier wore a necklace of glass seashell jewelry.

They stared at Elias and Bill, and made room for the two to walk past. For a moment, Elias made eye contact with the one with the rapier. Her blue eyes were cold and vacant like those of the fake Tibby that had nearly emerged from the sirentree. He shivered and climbed the stairs two at a time, keen to be as far from the guards as possible.

“What are they?” he wondered aloud, giving the pair one last glance.

“Merloine calls them leftovers,” Bill said.

Past these ‘leftovers’, a wooden door came into view, another blue crown symbol emblazoned in the center, just above the doorknob. Bill knocked again, this time rapping his fist four times, with a different rhythm. The security made Elias raise an eyebrow, and his breath caught in his throat as the door swung open. Through the ajar doorway, Elias beheld a room that looked bigger than what the outside of the tower would suggest. He saw a plush green couch and smelled ink, like the ink of the waves. He shuddered.

Then a man stepped into view from the side. The longest beard that Elias had ever seen dangled from his chin. The tip of the beard reached past the man’s thighs. The bearded man carried a staff like the one that Bill had described. It ended in a hook with a big blue sapphire in the center. The man himself wore long blue robes and a cone-shaped hat atop of his head, with a wide brim. A circle of yellow stars ringed the cone hat. A pair of thick spectacles completed the man’s outfit, and he pushed them up against the bridge of his nose as he looked at Elias.

“This is the newest refugee,” said Bill. “He would’ve dissolved in the ink if I hadn’t saved him. Could you help him get adjusted, Merloine?”

The old man’s gaze drifted to Elias’ feline ears and slinking tail.

“Interesting features you have,” he remarked. He didn’t sound pleased, and a hum punctuated his words, as though he’d been presented with a problem.

“Is something wrong?” said Elias.

As though a switch was flipped, the man’s face shifted from contemplative to warm and smiling. “I would be glad to help you adjust.” He smiled at Elias. “You poor lad, you must be so confused.” He reached over and took Elias’ shoulders with wrinkled hands, and gave him a reassuring shake. “I, the Azure Mage Merloine, shall enlighten you.” A whimsical bombast filled the man’s words, before he beckoned Elias inside. “Now come in, come in, lad.”

“Thank you.” Elias spared Bill one more look before following Merlione inside.

He looked around to find a grand room of wood and stone. Countless baubles made from metal or animal parts hung from the walls on hooks. There was also a black and hooded traveling cloak. Merlione led him past these to a back room. Along the wall leading to the back room lay many small rectangular holes in the wall. Many of these holes bore a stack of papers inside, but still many remained empty. Above each hole with paper inside, words had been engraved. Elias didn’t have long to look at them as Merloine led him to the back room, but they seemed to be names.

Toward the back lay a study, complete with a massive desk. Several stacks of books and notes covered the wooden surface.

A familiar sight in the rear corner of the study froze Elias in his tracks.

“Why do you have that?” His voice trembled as he beheld the unmistakable sight of a sirentree. The hole within the trunk of this sirentree did not have a half-formed person sticking out of it, thankfully. Instead a long red tentacle emerged from deep within the hole, and ended up on the floor on the other side of the desk, out of Elias’ sight.

“You poor boy, it sounds like you had a run in with one of these.” Merloine shook his head. “You need not fear that one. I’ve done experiments on it, you see, and it’s been tamed.” He reached under the desk and held up what the red tentacle was connected to. A strange helmet made of wood and animal bone. “Now, instead of feeding on errant thoughts of those that walk by, it feeds on my thoughts through this.”

“You’re sure that’s safe?” Elias’ gaze lingered on the hole within the tree.

“This one hasn’t caused a single accident in the last twenty years,” Merloine said, before gesturing to an open seat in front of the desk. “Now why don’t you have a seat? Would you like something to eat or drink? Tea perhaps? I have a blend that should set your nerves at ease.”

“I’m fine,” Elias said. He took a seat, but was unable to look away from the plant. Even when he closed his eyes, his mind’s eye imagined that facsimile of Tibby clawing her way out of the sirentree toward him.

“Maybe this will help.” Merloine pointed his staff in the direction of where they’d come from. His black traveling cloak hovered through the air toward them, and he draped it over the sirentree like a tarp, hiding it from view. “Is that better?”

Elias stared at the display. He’d heard from Bill that Merloine had been able to stop bullets in midair, but this was actual magic. Genuine magic that only fantasy stories had ever mentioned. Or maybe Merloine was just a kind of street magician that put magnets in his coat or something.

“How did you do that?” he said.

“A simple levitation spell,” Merloine said. “I called myself the Azure Mage, if you recall.”

“Magic?” Elias said. “You can use magic?”

Merloine stared at him for a while. He stroked his beard.

“The world you hailed from had no such thing, I take it?”

“Magic is only ever in fantasy books.”

Merloine chuckled, a hollow sound. “You’re saying that my world was a mere fantasy?”

“Of course not,” said Elias.

The bearded mage shrugged.

“It might’ve been a fantasy for someone else,” he said. “But there’s no point to guessing those sorts of things unless you want to get lost in circles of thought that lead nowhere.” He gestured to the tarp that now covered the ‘tamed’ sirentree. “But does that help keep you at ease?”

“A bit,” Elias lied, finding that the tarp only made what lay beneath it more obvious. He shook his head, pushing away the discomfort, and leaned forward. “Can you help me get back to…” Fear kept the rest of the words stuck in his throat. He didn’t know what he’d do if even this knowledgeable man didn’t know how Elias could return home. “Where am I?” he instead said. “How did I get here?”

Merloine’s smile strained. His nostrils flared and he squared his shoulders, as though readying himself for an ordeal.

“I was once like you, long, long ago. I came here without understanding anything, even how I came here. But I came to learn that the god of my world had scrapped it.”

“Scrapped it?” echoed Elias, unable to grasp that. “I don’t understand.” The way Merloine sounded, it was as though someone had tossed an entire world in the garbage like a piece of paper. But that was an entire world with people, places, and a history.

“For reasons beyond our comprehension, my world was gone. The ones that brought it into existence have discarded it. I don’t know the purpose they crafted my world for, but it must not have satisfied them.” Merloine did not speak again, but his gray-eyed gaze spoke volumes.

“You cannot be serious,” Elias whispered. His fingers dug into the armrests until his knuckles whitened. “The whole world is just gone? Sanfran, Amrika, all of it? Because someone decided to throw it out one day?” He leaned forward and pressed a hand to his chest. “No, you’re wrong. I’m still here, after all. How can I still be alive if my world’s been discarded?”

“Because you were lucky.” Merloine’s voice was soft.

“Lucky? You think I’m lucky?” Elias’ voice rose. His tail lashed behind him, beating against the chair’s backrest. “I’m stuck in this place, unable to go back home, and alone?”

“Would you rather be dead instead?” Merloine said.

The old man’s question, though soft, lingered in the air like a thundercrack.

Elias’ lips trembled.

“Y-You’re saying…my family…my whole town…everyone is…” His breath hitched. He didn’t dare finish that sentence. “No, that’s not true. I’d just said goodbye to Tibby. She was going to the capital to be a hotshot business manager. She promised to visit again.” And then he remembered the wish he’d made. Elias had begged for an adventure that would put Tibby’s job in the capital to shame. His eyes widened and he stood up.

“Could it have been me?” he said. “Am I the reason why everyone’s gone?”

“Huh? You?” Merloine’s head tilted. “I’m not sure how you would’ve managed that.” He stood up as well, and reached across the desk to squeeze Elias’ shoulder. “This is a sharp shock, but you don’t need to blame yourself for it. I believe that this place, the Inkyard, exists as a haven for those of us that survived the deaths of our worlds. A shelter from nonexistence.”

Nonexistence. The death of worlds. Elias couldn’t wrap his mind around those things. In spite of everything this man said, there had to be a way back to his world. Until he figured out a way to return, he needed to stay focused on smaller things he could grasp.

“I made it here,” Elias said. “I couldn’t have been the only one, right? My sister must’ve made it. Or my mum, even? And I still need to find my cat besides.” His eyes squeezed shut as he imagined his mother or sister floundering on those ink waves. Maybe they hadn’t been fortunate enough to arrive near some islands with friendly locals nearby. A shake of his head put these thoughts out of mind. If they made it to this place, they wouldn’t have died from something so stupid.

“Your cat?” said Merloine.

Elias nodded. “He was with me when we came here.” He spoke no further, not wanting to talk about what Bill had said about the ink.

“I see.” Merloine stroked his beard. His eyes again drifted to Elias’ ears and tail. “Poor thing.”

“What is that ink, anyway?” said Elias. “When I was caught in it, I…it felt like I was…” He let out a shuddering breath as the memories came over him. They were fainter than he remembered. Maybe his brain just wanted to forget. “Crumbling.”

“The facets that make you ‘you’ were coming undone at the seams,” Merloine said. “Your body, your feelings and relationships, and those primal drives that keep you alive…they all come together to make ‘you’. And the ink picks those apart and disperses them. Another creature might come across them, and…well…” He shrugged. “It’s not too much of an issue if you’re in contact for a short while, but regular or prolonged contact can bring about changes.”

Elias hugged himself. “So the ink is evil then?”

“It’s as evil as an acid is,” said Merloine. “Our gods wove us with all of those things I just described, and the ink unweaves us. But it also reweaves us into something new, with whatever unwoven threads of others happen to be around.”

Elias recalled that combination of a crab and shrimp he’d seen walking along the beach.

“Have you been ‘rewoven’ then?” said Elias.

“I, fortunately, have never been in such a position,” said Merloine. “And neither have Bill or Kuchisake, before you ask.” He looked down and tidied papers on his desk. “If you’re still worried, allow me to set you at ease. I try to ensure that nobody under my purview suffers such a complete unweaving. There are times when I have failed, unfortunately, but that is why…” His gaze drifted past Elias to the adjacent wall. Elias’ followed Merloine’s gaze to the series of paper-filled holes. “...I keep thorough records, just in case.” His eyes returned to Elias. “And on a related note, every dwelling on these islands has a basement. See to it that you’re safely inside when inkstorms come. Bill can show you where they are.”

Elias nodded. “Thank you.” His thoughts drifted to his sister. If Tibby was here, hopefully she ran into people just as kind and helpful as Merloine, Bill, and Kuchisake had been.

“Could my sister or mother have made it like I did?” said Elias.

“I can’t say for certain.” Merloine shook his head. “Alongside my daughter and those that I could save, I came here alongside the boy that I…” His jaw clenched. “I’d eventually taken on as a student of magic, back in our world.” Something about his words, perhaps their recitation like delivery, sounded odd to Elias’ ears, but he couldn’t pin down why. Then again, Merloine was probably used to giving the same speech to every refugee that came ashore like Elias had. “But just because you came alone doesn’t mean nobody from your world survived.” He reached up to rest a wrinkled hand on Elias’ head. “But for the time being, why don’t you stay here? If your sister or mother or another person you know comes to these shores, they’ll have a place here as well. The Azure Crown made me the steward of these islands, after all.”

“The Azure Crown?” Elias tilted his head. His ears perked up at the unfamiliar title.

“One of the nine nations of the Inkyard, but you needn’t worry about that,” assured Merloine. “Would you like some tea? It should help soothe your thoughts. My own personal blend.”

“I’d like that. Thank you.” Elias nodded.

Merloine clapped his hands, and a kettle and cups floated over from elsewhere in the room. They whirled around Elias’ head before settling on the desk. He poured Elias a cup. Steam unfurled from the top of the cup, as though the tea had been freshly boiled. The liquid bore a familiar green and black swirl that entranced his gaze.

Elias’ gaze lingered on the latter.

“Is this ink?” he wondered aloud.

“It is,” Merloine said. Elias’ eyes widened, and the mage held up a soothing hand. “But before you panic, I use my magics to…specially prepare it, I suppose. It will not unweave you the way your stint in the ocean nearly did. If taken in moderation and under the right circumstances, it can actually be helpful.” The man offered a grandfatherly smile.

After a moment of trepidation, Elias brought the cup to his lips and drank. Again the anxiety receded, just like it had last time. This cup too tasted the same mix of wildberries, lime, and something sickly sweet. This time, however, he remembered smelling a familiar sickly sweetness before. However the tea brought on a relaxing fog in his mind that he couldn’t quite peer through, and so Elias couldn’t recall where he’d come across the smell before.

“I think some company would do you good,” Merloine said, the old man’s words breaking through Elias’ attempt at thinking. “You saw that larger island before the one my tower was on, yes? The one with other people in it?”

It took Elias a long time to recall, as though a pleasant sticky fog had come over his mind. As he sifted through his memories to remember what Merloine spoke of, he stopped thinking about that faintly familiar stench.

“There were people playing that game on the beach,” he eventually said. “With the ball.”

Merloine smiled. “It would be good for you to spend time with them. Kuchisake and Bill would be delighted to keep you in their care, but when you’re suffering like this, a strong community will do wonders for you. It’s important for you not to brave such pain alone. So I will have them prepare a room for you.”

“Thank you, Merloine,” he said. “How can I repay you for everything? Not just you. Bill and Kuchisake too. You’ve all done so much for me since I got here.”

“Just be happy. And never worry about these things. But if you really want to show your appreciation, I would be grateful if you would be friends with one of the women there. Serena. My daughter.”

Elias recalled a number of people on the island. “What does she look like?”

“She has red hair. Usually ties it into a ponytail. Has blue eyes.”

He couldn’t recall anyone like that on the beach. Their hair had mostly been black or brown. “I can talk with her.” From the way those people played on the shore without a care in the world, at least that island would be safer than the one where Bill and Kuchisake lived. No sirentrees sounded like a relief.

“Good boy.” Merloine reached up and lightly scritched at Elias’ ears. He leaned into the old man’s touch. A soft feline purr slipped out from within Elias’ chest, a sound that Elias hadn’t made since…he couldn’t remember. But something about the purr sounded right in a way he couldn’t put into words.

He departed from the room, but Bill went in.

“Just sit tight for a bit here,” he said. “I need to talk with Merloine.”

“Is everything all right?” said Elias.

“Everything’s fine,” he said. “How about you? Can’t imagine it was easy dealing with everything Merloine told you.”

“I’m fine.” The words sounded hollow even to Elias himself.

Bill pulled him into a side hug. Elias’ ears brushed against the brim of his hat.

“The truth of this place wasn’t easy for me to swallow either,” Bill murmured. “We can talk about it if you want.”

Elias returned the hug and took in Bill’s smell. He smelled of sawdust and faint smoke. A pleasant smell. Eventually Bill separated from him and stepped through the door. It closed behind him, and Elias waited at the top of the stairs. The two ‘leftovers’ turned to stare at him, their bodies still. As they did so, Elias thought he saw a strand of red hair peeking from beneath their helmets.

Eventually Bill emerged from the room bearing a large keg.

“If I’m dropping you off at that island,” he said. “I figured I may as well deliver the next batch of tea while I’m at it.”

After everything Merloine had claimed about his whole world being destroyed, a mere keg didn’t matter. But Elias still helped Bill carry it down the stairs. Elias had a layer of muscle to his limbs, but even while bearing only half the weight, his arms strained.

“You all right?” Bill grunted as they descended the steps.

“I can handle it.” Elias frowned at the two ‘leftovers’. Even the one that carried that large axe did not lift a finger to help. They just watched Bill and Elias depart, only doing the bare minimum and standing off to the side.