Chapter 22
As it turned out, a ‘paired map’ meant that it was a legitimate treasure map, for lack of a better descriptor. The item that the map said would be there, would in fact be there. After a brief explanation, Kopius came to understand it as a magical version of the old Apple Airtag trackers. There was a binding process involved but at the end of it, the paired map would lead an individual to the general vicinity of the thing the map claimed would be there.
Faunz and Julz had just recently come into possession of the item. A mangled adventurer, no longer wanting any part of the C.O.M.A., had bartered it for gear and provisions. They had only agreed to purchase it because of the paired map but knew relatively little about it. The Legend of the Fourth Claw had been a well known story and their only frame of reference; other than general gossip.
By the time they had left, Kopius had to purchase a backpack due to his inventory ring being full. He had spent more than half his grafeen buying the spells, throwing knives, leg and arm protections, and the glittering half of the C.O.M.A. He had no way of knowing if the price he paid was fair but he was satisfied with his new belongings.
The throwing knives went into sheaths that ran along the small of his back, one on both sides. From behind it looked like he had two ripcords above his hips, ready to pull. The process to tell the harness where he wanted the weapons to go was pretty simple. He just had to place the weapon along any of the straps in the desired direction and will it into place. The rest of his purchased items went in the new backpack and it all sat hidden under his cloak.
The closer they got to the northern gates the more the town cleaned up. The streets were less hustle and homeless and more fruit stands and bookshops. The buildings had a bit more gleam to them but it was equivalent to putting lipstick on a pig. Though this was, apparently, the nicer part of oldtown, it still gave off slum vibes when compared to their first day impressions.
Dusk had begun its process of lowering the lights as Cici led the way to their next lodging. People of all different races made their way through the streets, some stopping to buy goods, others in a rush for one reason or another. Now that Kopius understood that he had to participate in the Tessel inquiries–be a little more approachable; only a handful had stopped them.
Kopius had also started to notice that there were more weapons to be seen than shovels or other tools. More of the folks had hard looks and prominent scars than he had remembered seeing in the rest of Cawbachu. They didn’t dominate the crowds but were noticeable enough that Kopius kept a sharper eye.
“A lot more fighters on this side of town,” Kopius finally noted.
“How can you tell they’re Fighters?” Cici wondered.
“Not like their Class or Practice,” he clarified. “Like they’ve been in a fight or… twelve.” He gestured to a particularly menacing looking man with more swords on his person than teeth in his glare.
“Ah, I see,” Cici chuckled. “Northern Cawbachu is a common place to prepare for the wilds. Or, return from the wilds I suppose.”
“Are ‘the wilds’ a place or are you just being generic?”
“The wilds are anywhere the beasties roam or the monsters call their home,” Cici sang aloud as he swung one arm around Kopius’s shoulder and the other he used as if he were displaying the horizon. They got a few odd looks at the sudden melody but Cici just jostled Kopius a bit and laughed.
“If we stay on Twelve Days March,” Cici continued, “from the northern gates of Cawbachu to the pristine waters of Lake Gisborne, we could travel in relative safety. BUT, to venture far from the road is at your own risk.”
“What kind of risk are we talking about?”
“Nothing two lads that just took down a Ripple couldn’t handle,” Cici said with a wink and a smile.
“Are we going to the lake?”
“Nah,” Cici replied with a hint of melancholy. “It's beautiful, Lake Gisborne. Especially at night, when the moons are high and full. It looks as if it were plucked from the mind of a dreaming god.” Cici’s head shook like he was trying to break from the image. “No, we head west shortly after leaving the city.”
“Are we leaving tonight?” Kopius inquired.
The big guy laughed and lightly patted Kopius on the back as if to thank him for the joke.
“Where are we staying then?”
“The original Jabit’s. Just up the way here,” Cici answered after the humor subsided. “Not quite the lodgings we’ve had but the cots are off the floor and the ale is bearable.”
Jabit’s—rather, the original Jabit’s as Cici kept calling it—was located in the center of what would be considered a wide modern roundabout. It was the only building occupying the inner space, stood three stories in height and had two tall wooden doors with the same intricate carving style as the chained doors in Kickshaw. Twelve Days March looped around the large building in both directions, presumably reconnecting on the other side.
The inside lobby of Jabit’s was surprisingly small given the building's outside appearance. Big enough to let four people stand with a bit of personal space, the area looked like a hunter’s den; jam packed with long deceased wild and exotic animals. Every last inch of wall was littered with taxidermied creatures ranging from cute and cuddly to nightmare fuel, I-feel-like-something-is-crawling-on-me scary time stuff. Thankfully, Cici was quick about securing a room and the two left with the swiftness of young boys being spared the rod.
“That place always gives me the jitters,” Cici admitted after they reached their room. The space was half the size of their previous night's lodgings. It did not have its own bathroom or balcony and the beds were thinly cushioned cots.
“Dude,” Kopius complained. “How are you supposed to walk in that lobby and know it’s a hotel—motel… Holiday Inn?”
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“Say what?” Cici asked over his shoulder while he cleaned up his sleeping area.
Kopius just shook his head at Cici and then at the lyrics to that random song before starting his own process of unpacking for the night. He opted to use his new cloak as the top cover of the cot instead of whatever garment they had left for that purpose.
Eventually, the contents of his backpack were emptied on top of the cloak along with several items from his inventory ring. He removed the two sets of clothes, the chisel set, rocks, fire gloves, and the bag of noir peripherals. After giving everything a once over he decided to also remove the bag of books from his ring.
“At least you know what to expect in the wild,” Cici remarked from his cot.
“All that shit in the lobby is out there?”
“Oh yeah, and more besides that! Those are the ones they can get through the doors.”
“Those are some pretty big doors, man.”
“That they are, lad. That they are.” Cici mumbled as he assumed his napping position.
With snores forthcoming Kopius returned to his consolidating ritual. He had long enjoyed compartmentalizing things. Cory had been handy in warehouse environments and other vocations where he could utilize his spacial awareness skills. Here he wanted to clear up space in his ring. He put the clothes with the clothes, the books with the books, and the other stuff with the other stuff.
After this was completed he put each pile of goods in as many bags as he had. Kopius was left with a bag of books, tome and scroll; a bag of mixed clothing; and a backpack with the rest. First, he returned the bag clothing, which consisted of the two matching sets of clothes and the extra noir gear, to his ring. He removed the C.O.M.A. from the backpack and placed that in his ring as he recalled that backpacks had a tendency to get ditched or stolen depending on the circumstance.
Next he tried to place the bag of books back in the ring but nothing happened. He tried several times, very sternly, to mentally force the bag into the ring but all was for not. Having partially anticipated this, he removed the scroll from the bag and tried again. When that produced the same result he removed the tome.
“What. The. Frack.” Kopius whined. He looked over his ring as if the thing were broken. As if, he’d be able to see the problem and then fix it. He stopped looking and then removed the spell book from the bag.
“Seriously?” Kopius grumbled when the bag disappeared.
He looked over at the backpack and its hodge-podge of items all stuffed inside. There was the chisel set, fire gloves, leather arm bracers, leather shin guards, and his rocks. It was no surprise when the backpack failed to enter the ring. He emptied it out on the cloak again.
Assuming one of his thinking positions, this one similar to the nervous-breakdown-in-the-shower look, Kopius gave it some thought.
Some time later, he took the arm and leg protection and put those to the side. He reasoned that he’d be wearing them, so no need to store them anywhere. With the same logic in mind he placed the gloves with leather gauntlets and shin guards. The last remaining item, the chisel set, went into the backpack.
“Dude!” Kopius practically yelled, startling Cici but not waking him. The backpack remained in his hand.
He emptied the pack again. This time he turned it inside out, opened every side pouch and stuck his finger down every crevasse he could find. Once he had thoroughly dissected it he used his identification ring to see if he was missing anything.
Kopius shook his head. For the sake of understanding, he tried to will the empty backpack into his ring. It worked. He shook his head some more. Removing the pack, he placed the rocks inside it but failed to get it to enter the ring.
That’s—lame, Kopius thought in disappointment. But, at least I get to keep my rocks, he countered.
There had been a moment when, for the sake of inventory space, he felt that he would have to get rid of the baseball-sized rocks. Now that the magical nature of the ring had thwarted his Plan A, he no longer had to be creative. Everything returned to the backpack; rocks, scroll, gear, tome and chisel set. The spellbook went back to inventory.
All in all, he cleared two measly slots in his ring. He placed the pack on the cot as a really uncomfortable pillow and laid down. Unable to nap, Kopius stared at the ceiling for a while, his thoughts wandering from topic to topic.
I should probably start reading that book, he admitted but made no attempt to retrieve it. Freetime had a way of sucking out all motivation to do the thing you should do but won’t because you really don’t have to—yet. He fought the urge to do the right thing and found success.
Sitting up so he could rummage through the backpack, he removed the Scroll of Push. Julz had been helpful in guiding Kopius through imbuing the C.O.M.A. map and had mentioned that the process for the scroll was the same.
Once he had, essentially, uploaded the C.O.M.A. information to his own map he realized the process was also similar to when he used the pugil staff. Where the pugil staff only needed mana infused to activate it, the scroll needed the same activation process followed immediately by pulling the infused–imprinted–mana back in.
When done correctly, the information on the scroll is basically printed on the infused mana. When that imprinted mana returns to the casters system, the spell is learned, and the scroll poofs out of existence. Done incorrectly and the scroll burst into flames… Kopuis had worn his gloves.
Now sitting on his cot with no gloves and scroll in hand, he took a few calming breaths before he gave it a shot. Holding the parchment out at arms length he began to concentrate and lightly flex the muscles of the outstretched appendage. It didn’t take long for the mana to move down his arm, the sensation still awkward, like someone trying to lightly squeeze out the last bit of popsicle taste from the elongated plastic wrapper.
Once the feeling exited his fingertips he reversed his will and tried to pull the mana back in, much like placing items in his ring. There were a few tense moments when the scroll looked like it was starting to shine and smolder but he managed to take it in without any pyrotechnics.
“Awesome,” Kopius whispered to himself. He wanted to give it a try but given the small space, the inexperience, and the individual sleeping a few feet away; he did not.
Faunz had told him that the tomes were the same in process except both hands were needed. Kopius was proud of himself when he skipped past the ‘that's what she said’ commentary and kept the conversation in line. Holding the tome in both hands now; he tentatively started to infuse it with mana. Instead of a shine like the scroll, the tome heated like a toaster element from within. He was actually impressed with himself when he got it on the first try.
Once he was over the initial awkwardness, imbuing mana into the scroll felt like water running off your hand in the shower. It was a gentle flow; present, noticeable but not pressurized. A tome is a bit more intense; the mana moves faster and in larger quantities. With both hands holding the small pamphlet-sized book he was able to imbue more mana at a higher rate. The sensation gave him a stream of adrenaline.
The book eventually glowed bright before blinking out of existence as the mana raced its way back into Kopius’s system. The imprinted mana burned like that first shot of tequila as it made its way through his body. It all coalesced in his mind with enough warmth to create a few beads of sweat. Kopius was suddenly parched and retrieved his waterskin from its loop.
“Fuck,” Kopius exhaled after taking a second drink. “Good thing I was sitting down.”
"Bounce?" Kopius wondered absently.