Six Words [Chapters 41-42] Progression Fantasy

Hey peeps!

If you want to start the story from the beginning, please go [HERE].

ALSO, above is the map!

There are some changes that need to be made (Axraksii doesn't have arms) and a few names of things, but hopefully you all like it!

Shami

Chapter Forty-One

“The Hantha Imperium idolizes all forms of light, especially fire.”

- A quote from ‘Varinth’s Beginnings, a History Book’

            I had lived most of my life without power. The only thing I knew for certain was—I didn’t want to lose it now that I had it. It didn’t matter if other Ring Warlocks wanted to kill me, or if the emperor thought me unworthy of having a ring. I’d overcome any obstacle.

            I ran my pointer finger of the cold metal of my black ring. The gemstones embedded on the underside of the band felt hot, and they practically pulsed like a heartbeat whenever I focused on them.

            “You should pay attention,” Ketsu whispered.

            I was brought back to the immediate.

            Yesterday evening, a man tried to climb the castle walls to my balcony. Today, I spent most of the daylight hours listening to the ramblings of my advisors. Apparently, I would need to fill in the many positions I had made vacant, especially if I was going to impress the emperor with my competency.

            Garrain’s concubines had held five positions.

            The Master of Coin.

            The Master of Ceremonies.

            The Castle Caretaker.

            The Land Steward.

            And finally, the Emperor’s Correspondence.

            Since I currently had zero concubines, I would either have to handle the duties myself, or summon families to offer up potential candidates.

            “Rimon-nox?”

            I sat at my throne, atop a dais, overlooking the audience hall. My advisors—there were only four—all sat at the table before me. It was long table, low to the ground so that everyone needed to sit on pillows, but large enough for at least twenty people. It seemed sad in its current state, since so much of wasn’t in use.

            Ketsu sat at the head of the table, closest to me. The other three advisors sat at the other end, as though they wanted to be as far from me as possible. One of them was Rein, the Magistrate of Justice, and the only one I cared for.

            The other two…

            I couldn’t remember their names.

            “A few of your citizens who dwell on castle grounds have requested a moment to speak with you,” Ketsu said. He motioned to the door at the far end of the audience hall. “Shall we summon them in?”

            I nodded once. “Yes. Thank you.”

            The far doors were opened by soldiers, and in walked five individuals. I recognized four of them—Fietta, the carpenter, and the carpenter’s two children. The last individual was a portly man who wore large enough robes that they dragged on the ground behind him. They were beautiful robes made of blue silk and embroidered with gold, but it was shameful to have one’s clothing slide around on the ground.

            The carpenter and his two children strode across the gigantic hall until he reached the end of the advisor’s table. Then he bowed deeply at the waist, as did his teenage daughter and younger son.

            “Uh, Lord.” The man stood straight.

            That was when he finally got a good look at me. His eyes went wide, and then he rubbed them. The man was old—he had white hair, and a neatly trimmed beard, but his skin was so wrinkled, even his hands looked like cracked leather.

            When he finally finished rubbing his eyes, he just stared.

            “You’re…” His voice was barely above a whisper. “You’re that servant I met…”

            I nodded once. “I do believe we met long before I declared myself as the new Ring Warlock. I was disguised as a servant to get a better feel for the castle. You can relax—I saw how diligently you worked.”

            The carpenter exchanged nervous glances with his children. Then he motioned them forward. His son and daughter were both carrying wooden figurines—one of a red elk, and one of a large tree.

            “I was tasked with fixing the shrines,” the carpenter said. “And I came seeking your approval, Lord.” He bowed again. “Are these satisfactory?”

            His children walked around the advisor’s table. They stopped at the foot of the dais, just a few feet from me. Then, with shaky hands, held up the figurines. The wood was pale with reddish-purple streaks.

            They were made with cedar wood.

            “The cheapest and more available type of wood in the region,” the Warden whispered. “What does that say about you, and the future shrines you wish to erect?”

            While the wood was cheap, the carvings were quite detailed. The red elk, specifically, looked as I remembered the beast out in the woods. The tree captured the spirit of the forest, especially the twisted roots at the bottom. Some were so fine, I wondered if they would break off in a strong breeze.

            “Are they satisfactory?” the carpenter asked again.

            “Our lord will answer you when he’s ready,” Ketsu snapped. “You are lucky he’s giving you such thorough consideration.”

            The carpenter bowed again as a form of apology.

            “Is there a reason you used such cheap wood?” I asked.

            When the carpenter stood straight, it was with more gusto than a man his age usually had. His face was hard set in a frown, and he held his hands behind his back.

            “I didn’t know you were versed in wood types, my lord.”

            “So you thought I wouldn’t notice your poor choice?”

            The man shook his head. “Forgive me—that isn’t what I meant to imply. Cedar is cheap, because it isn’t highly durable, but once I’ve coated these figurines in lacquer, they’ll both shine and resist the elements. It’s the final step before affixing them atop their shrines. The quality of the underlying wood matters little.”

            He spoke with knowledge and familiarity befitting a master.

            I gave his two children a nod. “I see. Then I approve of these. They’re beautifully crafted.”

            Their hands stopped shaking and they offered me deep bows of their own. Then they rushed back to their father’s side, relief written all over their faces. I hadn’t thought about the kind of terror I would instill upon people.

            I remembered being fearful of Ring Warlocks whenever they were in town. Everyone knew they could do whatever they wanted. If I hadn’t approved of these shrine figurines, I could’ve had them put to death, and I probably never would’ve had to answer for my butchery.

            But I didn’t want my own people to see me like that.

            I didn’t want them to fear me—to tremble in my presence.

            “It’s better this way,” the Warden muttered, privy to my deepest thoughts. “If they fear you, they won’t betray you. Let them tremble. You need their obedience if you want to grow your prefecture to the best there ever has been.”

            The Teachings of Shoki spoke about how loyalty was stronger than fear. According to Shoki, controlling through fear meant whoever the people were the most afraid of was the person they would ultimately answer to. However, a loyal man was harder to turn—it was difference between having a blade of grass or a blade of steel whenever the wind was howling.

            Did I want grass? Or did I want steel?

            I stood from my throne. My advisors all raised their eyebrows. When I stepped down from the dais, they held their breath.

            With careful steps, I walked around the table and made my way over to the carpenter and his family. They remained frozen in place until I was next to them.

            “You didn’t give your name,” I said to the older man.

            The carpenter met my gaze, his eyes searching mine, like this might be a trick or an elaborate joke. Perhaps because he didn’t want to offend me, the carpenter quickly cleared his throat and then answered me.

            “My name is Yoshimasa, my lord.”

            “Yoshimasa-kain,” I said, giving him a respectful honorific. “What other shrines do you think we should have? I’m not as familiar with the castle as I like to be, but I know you’re aware of the goings on here.” I hoped, by addressing him personally—and away from my throne—that I could convey my respect for his life and time.

            Yoshimasa seemed a little shaken as first, but he steeled himself. He mulled over my question and half bowed his head. “I think we would do well to honor the spirits of night. We’ve had hot days, and if our guardians of the darkness returned, perhaps we could know cooler winds.”

            “Please ensure that it happens,” I said. “I want the people of Wist Castle to know better days.”

            “I see. Then, I will make it a priority. Thank you, Rimon-nox.”

            That was the first time he used my name since entering the audience hall.

            Yoshimasa and his two children bowed a third time. They wished me farewell, and quickly made their way toward the door. Were they convinced I was more than a tyrant who would kill them at any moment? I felt I had made a good impression.

            Fietta stepped forward. She had no fear of me—we were comfortable in each other’s presence.

            “Fietta-lin,” I whispered when she was close. “Why have you come to see me?”

            She ran her slender fingers through her shimmering black hair. Today, she wore the robes of a shrine maiden. They were both black and white, a harsh contrast of light and darkness—a representation of life and death.

            “Rimon-lin, as shrine maidens, we were told we would need to put on a festival for your ascension.” Fietta also kept her voice low, but her words were laced with anxiety. “But when we went to the crafters and workmen, they were hesitant to assist. They say you deal with demons. There’s talk of leaving Wist Castle.”

            “What?” I asked.

            Fietta nodded. “People have been whispering all day. They say they saw your pet demon eating a man.”

            “Why didn’t you tell me right away?”

            Fietta held one of my hands with both of hers. “I only wanted to relay this information to you, Rimon-lin. I don’t know—or trust—these other people. They made me wait to speak to you, so I did. Please forgive me. This was the only way I knew to tell you what I knew.”

            “There’s no need to forgive you,” I whispered. “I believe what you’re telling me.” I caressed her hand with my thumb, my attention on the ring.

            Fietta knitted her eyebrows in worry.

            I supposed I would need to fix this. That was fine. I would.

            “Continue preparing the festival,” I said.

            “But the crafters—”

            “We can hire men from the town if the ones in the castle are too afraid,” I quickly replied. “But it’s important for the people of this prefecture to know I’m in charge. During the festival, I’ll demonstrate my power over my demon, and I’ll set their fears to rest.”

            Fietta’s eyes went wide. “You can do that?” She was breathless, her words laced with hope.

            “That is the only reason the demon remains by my side, because she is tethered to me, and will obey my command. So please—prepare the festival to the best of your ability. I will handle the rest.”

            Her anxieties evaporated in an instant. Her beautiful smile returned, and I knew she would do as I asked. When she bowed her head, she pulled my hand to her forehead. It was a sign of respect between family members, and I appreciated having her at my side.

            “I will do this.” Fietta stood straight. “Thank you, Rimon-lin. The festival will be prepared within four days time.”

            When she turned to leave, I offered her a smile.

            “My lord?” Ketsu asked from all the way at the end of the table. He had to sit up slightly and project his voice. “Shouldn’t you reclaim your seat? Your advisors cannot advise you on anything if we cannot hear the court dealings.”

            That was true.

            I turned on my head and walked around the table until I was halfway between Ketsu and the other advisors. Then I returned my attention to the last people waiting for my audience—a portly man with his long robes.

            “Why have you come today?” I asked.

            The man chuckled and then offered a bow. “Ah, Rimon-nox. My name is Vistra, and I’m a merchant who has travelled much of the Tze Empire. I was on my way through Rovik when I heard there was a new Ring Warlock, and I decided to stop. Have you had your celebrations yet?”

            “We have not,” Ketsu answered before I could. “We will celebrate the new Ring Warlock shortly, within a few days.”

            “Then I would ask permission to sell some of my exotic wares at the festival.” Vistra smiled wide. He was the type of man with so many teeth, it was like he couldn’t fit them all in his mouth. “I have some of the highest quality silks, the most beautiful tea cups, and barrels of fruit from the orchards of Granvil Prefecture.”

            Ketsu waved me over. I stepped around the far end of the table and approached him, curious. He lowered his voice to a harsh whisper and said, “Traveling merchants are all cheats and liars. They sell things like bird milk and lantern polish, and then leave before anyone grows wise to their tricks, if they aren’t just outright stealing from you.”

            When I was at the Scarlet Lantern, I had dealt with plenty of traveling merchants. Well, we never purchased anything from them—they only purchased time with the girls—but I never had any reason to suspect they were swindlers.

            I could see the logic, though. If Vistra sold us low-quality silk that unraveled a week after he left, who would I blame? Only myself.

            On the other hand, having a merchant with exotic wares would be perfect for a festival.

            It was worth taking the risk.

            “How long do you intend to stay?” I asked.

            “Three days, Rimon-nox.” He answered with a smooth confidence.

            “Then you may stay for the ascension festival,” I said, raising my voice for all to hear. “I look forward to tasting some of those fruit myself.”

            When Vistra laughed, his large belly shook. “Oh, trust me when I say, you’ll love them so much my stock will be gone in an instant.” The man bowed. “Thank you, Ring Warlock. You are most gracious. I thought I would need to convince you, but I see you’re a man who sees talent like a normal man sees the sky.”

            The longer he stayed, the less likely his wares were terrible. And if he stayed for a few days, I would have time to demonstrate how useful Saiki was. So, despite Ketsu’s disapproving glance, I was happy with this turn of events.

Chapter Forty-Two

“A man without convictions is a coward.

Never trust him with anything you hold dear.”

- A quote from ‘The Teachings of Shoki’

            Once my meeting with the advisors was finished, I left Wist Castle. Ryota accompanied me as we walked through the first two walls and into the soldier’s training yard. Most of my men were asleep, but a few were stationed on the far outside wall, patrolling across the top, keeping watch for anything suspicious that may happen at night.

            I wanted to learn how to wield a weapon, and Ryota had agreed to teach me.

            The man was surprisingly chipper, despite the late hour.

            Thankfully, the moon was out to join us on this first night of training.

            “Have you ever wielded a sword before?” Ryota asked.

            I shook my head. “I was raised in the city, where it was illegal to carry a weapon. If anyone had seen me with anything larger than a knife, I would’ve had my hands removed.”

            “I see.”

            We came to a stop once we reached a flat patch of dirt. There were training areas set up for sparing, and no doubt dummies stored somewhere to practice form.

            “Perhaps it would be better if you learned the naginata,” Ryota muttered. He stroked his chin, mulling it over.

            I lifted an eyebrow. “Why?”

            “It’s more of a defensive weapon,” Ryota replied with an easy smile. “It would allow you to strike from a distance, and fend off cavalry more effectively. With a sweeping strike, you could keep multiple enemies at bay.”

            Moonlight illuminated the whole training field, and the grass around our dirt patch practically glistened. It felt as though the night was delighted with our presence.

            “And defensive is better than offensive?” I asked.

            Ryota scoffed and shook his head. “No. But defense is easier and faster to learn. Being offensive requires a lot of skill, speed, and muscle if you want to avoid getting yourself killed.” Ryota pulled his blade from its scabbard. The lunar metal sparkled more than the blades of grass. “A sword can stab and slash, but a naginata can also hook enemies, which is perfect for dismounting riders. So, it’s more versatile.”

            He swung his sword, and it whistled as it effortlessly sliced the air.

            I held out a hand, wanting to test it for myself. Ryota chuckled as he offered me the handle.

            The blade also fell straight out of my hand. I hadn’t been expecting it to weigh so much. Off balance, I leaned forward and then quickly corrected myself.

            That was right…

            I had lifted Ryota’s blade once before…

            It had felt close to a hundred pounds. That was how it felt now. Too heavy to swing around. Was Ryota just that strong?

            Ryota must have seen the visible confusion on my face, but his smile widened. “Lunar metal is extremely heavy. Normal men can’t use it as a weapon.”

            “How do you do it?” I asked as I handed it back to him.

            The instant Ryota grabbed the handle, he swirled the blade around in his palm and then swirled it through the air. He made it look so easy.

            “When the emperor bestowed me the title of bladekeeper, he gave me his blessing.” Ryota sheathed his weapon. “That blessing allows me to hold lunar metal without feeling its weight. That’s what makes us bladekeepers so different from others—and why we can wield these legendary weapons.”

            I flexed my hand, opening and closing it, my mind honing in on the information just given to me.

            What if… I absorbed enough life essence from creatures, beasts, and titans? What if I became so physically strong that I didn’t need the emperor’s blessing to use such extraordinary weapons?

            “It’s possible,” the Warden whispered with a chuckle. “Very possible.”

            I still needed to find a tiger to add to my strength. And that would only be the beginning. I was already far faster and sturdier than any human had the right to be. There would be no stopping.

            Ryota strode off toward the barracks. When he returned a moment later, he carried two naginatas, both of which were well worn from use. They had wooden shafts, were as long as spears, and curved sword-like blades at the end, with red twine wrapped around the upper portion of the weapon.

            He handed me one and then took a position directly in front of me.

            “Match my movements,” Ryota said. “The proper grip is key when using the naginata. You must have one hand near the base and the other closer to the blade. Your grip should be firm but relaxed to allow flexibility in movement.”

            Ryota took hold of naginata with familiarity that betrayed his skill.

            I did as he did. With both hands, I held my weapon. The sword-end caught the moonlight and practically glowed.

            “You hold it this way to guide your weapon in a smooth and controlled manner.” Ryota demonstrated by slashing with the tip.

            I did the same.

            He was correct. It was effortless.

            “For power, you need to have the correct stand. Have one foot forward, and your knees bent. Angle yourself to the side—it’ll give you mobility and defense, as you’ll be a smaller target to hit.”

            As Ryota spoke, his body matched his words.

            I followed suit, bending my knees and positioning my feet as he did.

            “Good.” Ryota’s smile never really left him. “Now the hard part. You must master your footwork. You must shift fluidly across the ground, maintaining balance. Because your weapon is long, you’ll need to be aware of your position in relation to others at all times. Don’t let them get close. Back away quickly if they come in. But large steps will make it easier for you to trip.”

            Ryota demonstrated. He dramatically stumbled, as though he had stepped backward on a rock.

            Instead, after he corrected himself, he demonstrated again, only he allowed his feet to slide across the ground. His sandals slid over the dirt, even when he made a quick lunged back.

            “You see?” Ryota gestured to his stance. “You want balance, and the ability to strike at all times. Don’t lift your feet too high when you move. It’s crucial you learn this first.”

            I kept my feet close to the ground, and then slid back and forth, maintaining my stance. Ryota watched with a careful eye as I went back and forth. It was easy, and I somehow already felt like I was a warrior, even though that was ridiculous.

            “The naginata is a simple weapon,” the Warden said. “They give it to women all the time because of its ease.”

            I stopped my footwork practice, surprised by this information. “Truly?”

            “Oh, yes. The naginata can be picked up quite quickly, and is mostly used for defense, as your half-blooded instructor explained. Not really the weapon for a proper warrior…” When the Warden chuckled this time, it was filled with condescension.

            “Are you speaking to yourself?” Ryota asked. He stood straight and eyed me suspiciously.

            I shook my head. “Is it true that women often learn to use naginatas? Because they’re so simple?”

            Ryota replied with a quick nod. “I’ve heard women pick it up to defend their homes when their men are away, yes. Is this… information you care about? I can instruct you on how to use a sword, if you’d rather.”

            “No,” I quickly replied. “I was just thinking that you should also teach this to the shrine maidens. I’d like them to be able to defend themselves, if for some reason I’m not around.”

            My whole life I had been around women. Using a weapon that was seen more as theirs didn’t bother me. If anything, it seemed fitting. Why wouldn’t I use it? Besides, I wasn’t just a man anymore—I was a Ring Warlock with more life essence than an entire village. I’d show everyone what a naginata could do.

            As soon as I finished learning the basics, of course.

            “Continue,” I demanded. “I’m ready for the next part of this lesson.”

            Ryota got back into the proper stance. “Very well. Once you’ve mastered your footwork, we’ll be moving onto cuts and strikes.”

*六つの言葉*

            When I finally went to sleep, I was exhausted.

            I didn’t wake with the rising of the Eye and the Molar. Instead, I allowed myself to rest before exiting my room. The many monster spiders were there to greet me in the morning. Several of them left gifts—mostly wedded-up rats, which I had no interest in—but I appreciated their gestures.

            Throughout the day, I met with advisors, but the meetings now revolved around how I would approach the emperor. Since I had never met the man, or even traveled to the Ebon Capital, I trusted their advice. Once everything was settled, I would go there.

            “You’ll need to ask the emperor for more bladekeepers,” Ketsu said. “You only have the two, currently. You need to ask him for three more. Every Ring Warlock is entitled to five.”

            Again, I agreed. Why wouldn’t I want more bladekeepers? They were extremely useful.

            At night, I once again went training with Ryota, but only half the time as I had before. For the latter half of the evening, I left Wist Castle and explored the grounds surrounding it.

            The farms were so lush…

            The crops had once been on the edge of death, but now they could be harvested soon. Perhaps during my ascension festival?

            The cold winds of night accompanied me as I went to the forest.

            For now… I wanted to hunt the tigers.

*六つの言葉*

            Two more days went by in what felt like an instant.

            My advisors were fixated. My training was focused. But the tigers eluded me.

            Tomorrow, the castle would host my ascension festival. Word had already been sent to the surrounding towns and cities of Rovik Prefecture, and people had been arriving on the main road like water flowing down a river.

            I hadn’t realized how many merchants, craftsmen, and nobility were so close. They arrived in palanquins, mostly, but a few brought large carts pulled by teams of oxen. They were the only animals that could make the winding mountain trails.

            My visiting merchant had set up his exotic wares, and although the festival was tomorrow, it already felt quite festive.

            As the Eye and Molar set, and I headed for the outer wall, I stopped to investigate those who had traveled to visit the castle.

            The air hummed with the energy of preparation as merchants set up their stalls, their movements brisk but practiced, while the scent of freshly grilled fish and sweet rice cakes drifted on the breeze. Above, paper lanterns swayed gently, strung across the narrow streets like a canopy of soft, muted light in the gloom of dusk.

            As I strode down the cobblestone of the main walkway, I took note of the many soldiers positioned around every entrance and exit. They stood as a symbol of law and authority, and I appreciated the order they gave the castle.

            “Rimon-nox.”

            I quickly turned on my heel. Mazun was behind me, fully dressed in his bladekeeper outfit, his robes pulled tight, armor on his shoulders and legs, his helmet on his head, but his mask on the outside of it. He had his blade at his hip, one hand on the hilt.

            “Are you still feeling anxious about working with half-Hanthan individuals?” I quietly asked.

            Mazun stood a bit straighter. “Like every battle behind me, I intend to win this one. So, while I find them distasteful, I’ve decided I will continue in service. My blade is yours.” When he bowed at the waist, several individuals close by did the same.

            When Mazun rose, the others did as well.

            “Thank you,” I said to him. “Come. You should stay by my side as I leave tonight.”

            “Oh?” He lifted an eyebrow. “Are you worried brigands will attack on the eve of the festival?”

            I shook my head and continued down the path. “I want your help tracking a tiger.”

            “A what?”

            I chortled and just gestured with a tilt of my head. I’d explain more once we were out of the castle.

            Men raised wooden poles at the corners of the main castle square, hoisting elaborate banners painted with rings and also of Axraksii. Children darted between their legs, laughing as they chased after cloth streamers that floated in the air like the tails of kites. Most individuals were too preoccupied with the decorations to notice that their lord was nearby.

            I preferred this.

            I’d rather just observe—this was my ascension festival, after all.

            And despite Fietta’s worry, it seemed most of my citizens were involved in the decorating. Were they no longer scared of my demon?

            Mazun strode next to me, and his outfit drew more attention than my own. Soon, it seemed, word of presence had spread, because the roads cleared for us all the way to the far gate at the outer wall.

            Drums softly beat from somewhere behind us. They were steady and constant, a low rumble that mixed with the excited conversations all around us.

            “What are those?” I asked.

            “The Heartbeat of Night,” Mazun stated. “That’s the song they play the night before, and the night after, a Ring Warlock officially takes their throne.”

            I listened to the beat of the powerful drums all the way to the outer gate. Prepared to venture into the woods, and hunt for another tiger, I almost didn’t notice the woman waiting on the wall.

            Saiki.

            She stood on the edge looking down at us, her white hair fluttering on the evening wind, giving her an ethereal appearance. When she leapt, she did so with superhuman grace. Despite her tightly tied robes, she managed to front flip and then land on her feet. She wore no sandals, but that hardly mattered. The impact of her fall didn’t seem to trouble her.

            After fluffing her hair, she offered me a smile. “Rimon-nox. My children sing of your hunts.”

            “For the tiger?” Mazun demanded. Then he shook his head. “I wish you would tell me of these things, my lord.”

            Saiki sweetly smiled as she stepped close. “Let me aid you.”

            “I thought spiders didn’t go out and hunt for their food?” I lifted an eyebrow. “Are you the master of traps? And luring insects to their doom?”

            “Oh, yes. But anything can be lured, my lord. You just need the correct bait. Please, allow me to show you the superior way to hunt.”