The Madness Begins - I

It was cold that time of the month. It was always cold out there, beyond the warmth of the cities, in the lands of ice and snow. In our ignorance, we assumed the lake would be cold enough to support us, and in our ignorance, we assumed wrongly.

The carriage’s wheel struck something hard. It started to slip. There was a sound of wood breaking and twisting, in a high-pitched cry. It lurched sideways. It lifted off the ice. It went for the ground and threatened to shatter it whole.

“By the Great Turtle!” a man shouted. “Help!”

It was the carriage driver, a good man named Boyil, who deserved to live as much as any other.

Prince Jasi lurched against the side. His pale locks tossing as it did. The window of the carriage shattered, and he speared me with an understanding look.

“Rescue Boyil!”

I leapt from the carriage’s box. My body, small enough to fit through the edges of shattered glass. If Boyil was to be saved, I had to act quickly. A hole formed in the ground of the great ice lake. It spread quickly, and the carriage had already begun to sink.

Boyil, unfortunately, was also rather plump. And, for all his good humour, was never taught how to swim.

I leapt into the hole. The cold swarmed me. Covered me whole. Like cold water often did, seeping through skin into bone and bone into blood.

I swam forward, arms outstretched, and grabbed onto Boyil’s thick, fur jacket. I then went straight for the ice, and pulled him onto it. He sat there, mouth agape, watching me with wide, white eyes, as all Ineo had.

“Stay here.”

I turned on my heel and went back into the water. Unlike Boyil, Prince Jasi was a young, fit man. A prince, well-trained in both the arts, and his body. Unfortunately, like Boyil, he wore the heaviest clothes imaginable: thick furs, now drenched in water.

I swam forward. I swam into that darkness, where only a thin ray of light shone. It had only been a few minutes in water, and it was already a few minutes too long. The cold water felt closer to fire, and my very insides seemed to be clamped, as if squeezed out of life itself.

My fur was thick. But I could feel my limbs swelling underneath. Aching as if they’d been hit a dozen times and more.

I continued nonetheless. I knew I could make it. I saw Prince Jasi was close. So, I swam and swam and swam, and when I finished swimming, I reached the surface, holding Prince Jasi.

“Gamoun the Gallant,” he said, smiling. “You know. I’m starting to see why they call you that now.”

“Perhaps they should call you Prince Jasi the Selfless.”

“Or Prince Jasi, he who leaves no heirs, judging by my recklessness.”

“For that,” I joke, “You need but ask for Gamoun the Charming.”

I turned to look at the hole in the ice. The carriage was missing, buried in a watery grave. Everyone was fine. Yet, I could not shake the feeling that such a hole was unnatural, that it had spawned from something other than nature.

And as I looked to the distance, beyond the storm of snow, I thought I saw the outline of something. A man, in the outline of armour like a turtle. That I did not speak of this, that I thought a figment of my imagination, proved to be my mistake.

And that which brought the end of Prince Jasi’s life.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·   

We found an inn soon after. It was not far from our path. Having carried the two on my back and sprinted, we reached there in record time, and soon found ourselves warm and snug.

Behind the inn’s stone walls were dozens of wooden pipes, ringing with shrill sounds as steam pumped from the ground into them. The whole space was decorated in the fashion of the Steam-Turtle—the Divine Beast upon which this area was located. Bowls made in the image of shells. Turtle dolls, hanging off bits of string.

Even the teacup in my hand. Green clay, fashioned into the shape of a turtle with its mouth pointed. I looked into its milky substance, the local tea. Prince Jasi sat before me, legs crossed on a quilted pillow.

I was here on a mission. Dispatched by a governor of my country, Lagnitia. Yet, the time we spent together was less diplomatic, and more… friendly. Warm, yes. Like comrades, or friends.

“Gamoun,” he said, opening up with uncharacteristic concern. “I fear something very terrible will happen.”

“And what might that be?” I said, between a sip of tea.

“Have you ever found yourself on the edge of danger? An unpleasant alley. A cliffside? Where something might happen, but doesn’t quite yet? A fall, waiting to happen? That’s the feeling that brews, Gamoun.”

“Is that why you invited me here, Prince Jasi? To discuss premonitions?”

“In part,” he replied, taking a quick sip.

“Then, I’ll say this: Leave.”

“Leave?”

“If you fear the fall, fear the dagger that slips from the darkness between your breastplate; all you need to do is be far. Far, far away from where that might happen.”

“I’m a Prince, Gamoun. I can’t very well abandon my people.”

“Have you heard of Prince Juvik? Prince Vodik, Geril, and Kemrod, of Lenvel? They’ve all done it. You need but follow in their steps.”

“And what, add my name to a long list of those disgraced?”

“Better disgraced than hurt, Your Highness. Better alive and slandered than dead and revered.”

“My father would disagree,” he muttered. “He’d sooner see me wage wars in Ineo’s name. Take territory. Defend my country to its last breath, even at the cost of a sword in my throat, or a bullet in my heart.”

“And what would you rather do, Prince Jasi? You love your people, do you not? You reject my idea of abandoning Ineo, so you must want to see it prosper.”

“I do! For certain.”

“Then what’s the matter?”

He jerked his head upwards. “I love Ineo. I do. But it’s hard. Hard for me to place its interests above another, I mean,” he seemed to stumble, searching for the right words. “We’re all people, aren’t we? Furred, scaled. Stone, flesh. Just born in places different. Isn’t that what you want too, Gamoun? Lagnitia, and Ineo? United and well?

“Prince Jasi, I apologise for giving you a false estimation of my character.”

“How so?”

“The man before you is neither Lagnitian nor good. But a wanderer who has long since abandoned notion of country and heroism.”

“I get that,” he replied. “But… Gamoun. You’re not exactly a heartless bastard, are you? There’s a great rift between being a hero and a right bastard.” His voice had a sympathetic edge. “I’m sure your heart still belongs to something.”

“It does.”

“Who?”

“People, Prince Jasi. Independent of nation, faction, or clan.”

“Hoho, did the mighty general take a lover since the days of ‘The Wandering Rodent?’”

I laughed. “I’m very sorry, but my bachelor days are long since over. You’ll have to read the ‘Drinking and Duelling and possibly Deviant Rodent’, for a summary of that era. Though I’d advise against reading it in public.”

“Hm. If it isn’t a lover, it’s got to be kids, right?”

I sat still for a moment. Then, with some deliberation, spoke up: “Even a wanderer has people they like to wander with. For me, it just so happens to be my apprentices. I’ve even one your age, Munaku. Though I sent her off before meeting with you.”

“Hahaha.” The Prince started to laugh. “So, that’s the reason behind your apprehension.”

“Oh?”

“You’re scared of those you love getting hurt. So you warn them about things like country and honour. In the fear that they’d get wrapped up in something bigger than them, am I right?! Which means…” He thrust a finger at me, laughing as he did. “You’ve gotta love me plenty too!”

“Now now, ‘love’ might be a rather strong verb to use.” I scratched my chin. Pretending to be deep in thought. “Yes… Rather than love, perhaps ‘fondness’ would suffice. After all, you do remind me of a pet I had as a child. Whose courage for life was matched equally by a desire to run straight into fire…”

“Hey─are you saying I’ll die on my path to peace between our nations?!”

“No, no. Just that you might burn off a limb or two, in doing so, is all.”

Prince Jasi proceeded to laugh loudly. Something that forced a reaction from me in turn. It must have seemed strange to an outsider; an Ineo Prince, and a rodent-like Lagnitian, laughing and pointing, enjoying themselves with an air of certain extravagance.

But at that moment in time, I simply ceased to care. And wished, for a passing moment, that the youth of tomorrow all shared in Prince Jasi’s joy.