Exalted - Aspect Book - Fire.pdf - Exalted - Matrinicz

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B Y K RAIG B LACKWELDER AND G ENEVIEVE C OGMAN

A S P E C T B O O K

E XALTED

T HE F IRST B RIGHT B LAZE

Our visit to the Neck was the first official state visit by the Realm in a very

long time. Distracted as it was by crises on several fronts, the missing tribute

of a tiny island nation wasn’t worth the voyage west, certainly not given the

dangers presented by pirates. And when the Foreign Office deemed a formal

visit necessary, the task fell to me, the least experienced Dragon-Blood of the

least respected house.

For my part, I was delighted. Travel benefits Dragon-Bloods in general and

sorcerers in particular. I was still giddy with the wealth of knowledge I had

acquired at the Heptagram and looked forward to using it to win even more

approbation from my house, Nellens, through a successful diplomatic mission.

The proper name of the Neck’s capital city is Solid Shell, but since no

other town or city in the Neck warrants discussion in Realm circles, the Neck

is often synonymous for the capital city as well as the island nation as a whole.

The arrival of our ship, the Dancing Raiton , in Solid Shell’s port was supposed

to have been cause for much pomp and circumstance and formal revelry. It was

to herald a new warmth in relations between the Neck and the Realm. The

bedraggled appearance of our Realm ship as we limped into port, however, did

not facilitate a festive air, however, but a troubled one. They were expecting

a grand Realm ship containing three of the Dragon-Blooded Host. They were

getting a ship with a broken mast and scorch marks over large portions of the

deck, a ship so crippled that it barely made it into port. Worse, the ship carried

only one member of the Dragon-Blooded Host, the other two having been

given a proper burial at sea. And to top it off, the clouds were deep blue-gray

and threatening a storm.

Nothing about our arrival was auspicious, but we had at least made it into

port before the storm broke.

A band of musicians had been playing some song appropriate to the

expected pageantry of the occasion, but the music stopped once we were close

enough that those on land could see the damage we had taken.

Once the Dancing Raiton was secured to the docks, the rote diplomatic

protocols kicked in: The Neck’s chieftain petitioned to be allowed on our

vessel. We allowed it. Before he came aboard, however, his golden-skinned

wives and eight children, laden with flowers and foodstuffs, scuttled onto the

ship, keeping their eyes down, and, guided by the crew, presented them to me

for my approval. I looked at the array in front of me, including some of the

most beautiful flowers I’d seen, and I was honestly impressed. I nodded, and

they scuttled off again, and the chieftain himself came aboard. Bua-Shing

was an older man with the bronze skin and gray-green hair of an islander. He

wore a canvas cloak over his plain gray tunic, although it looked more like

an ivory carapace because it was entirely covered with cowry shells. In

addition, the old man wore a necklace of bright-blue lacquered lobster claws.

Such a necklace, I knew from my research into Western diplomacy, was the

badge of office worn by the chieftain, who was put in power by the islands’

elders. I would bet a talent of jade that it had been invested with Essence in

some way. He took pains to keep his head down, looking up only enough to

see to it that he didn’t shatter the air of solemnity by bumping into a chair

on his way to the parlaying table.

The chieftain tried to hide both his terror and his curiosity at the sorry

state of our ship, but the signs of both were unmistakable.

“I thank you for your gifts, loyal Bua-Shing. Please, put yourself at ease.”

He relaxed a bit, and I smiled warmly to show him that he was safe. For my

part, I simply wanted to know where the tribute had gone and what kind of

excuses he was going to invent in order to save face so I could deal with the

issue and start fixing my ship. Protocol came first. I have no doubt he had dug

P ROLOGUE

up an advisor or old scroll somewhere that told him how to interact with

Dragon-Blooded representatives of the Realm. He may have even rehearsed his

lines because he seemed far more polished than I had expected. Eventually, the

time came to dispense with formalities and address the issue we had been

politely talking around. He felt it too, apparently, because just as I was about to

ask, he attempted evasive maneuvers — either that or his curiosity over-

whelmed him.

“I see that your ship has sustained damage. My carpenters and shipwrights

are at your disposal, Holiness.”

“I appreciate your offer, loyal Bua-Shing. I will let you know soon if I need

their assistance.”

“You were… attacked?”

I hadn’t yet decided what to say on that matter, and if he hadn’t asked, I

probably wouldn’t have volunteered it. If I told him the truth, it might simply

provide him with one more reason not to send his tribute to the Realm. On the

other hand, if I told him a believable lie, that mere pirates had been so devastating

to an imperial ship, how much further would the Dynasty slip in his eyes?

“No, pirates are unlikely to be so brazen with a Realm ship, Bua-Shing. We

were beset by a ghost ship. Their ship overtook and boarded us. My captain,

Peleps Ondani, her son, Peleps Baraka, and I met the walking dead in battle.

Though we bested them easily, their mistress was a deathknight — and far more

lethal. Although the captain and her son inflicted grievous damage on the

monster, the deathknight slew both of them before I took advantage of her

injuries and destroyed her.” I scrutinized Bua-Shing for any signs that my story

did not surprise him — an alliance between Skullstone and the Neck was hardly

improbable, after all. Seeing no sign that he had known of our attack, I

continued. “While this attack is a tragedy for the Realm, it is a clear sign that

the Realm has failed to keep these waters as safe as they need to be. We have

failed you, loyal Bua-Shing. The temerity shown by that deathknight hag

clearly indicates to me that the Dynasty needs to make its presence more

common here in the West if you are to feel comfortable conducting trade in

these waters. Don’t you agree, loyal Bua-Shing?”

The chieftain nodded his head in silent agreement.

“Outstanding.” I said. “I only wish we’d known your predicament from the

beginning. I should tell you that my original mission to the Neck was to discover

why 15 months had passed without a single ship from the Neck coming to the

Blessed Isle to pay its tribute to the Realm. I understand now that the menacing

presence of that deathknight’s ship kept you from sending your taxes to the Isle,

isn’t that right, Bua-Shing?”

The old man, caught more than a little off guard by my rapidly evolving

conclusions, only nodded. I did not get the impression that our conversation

was going in the direction he had hoped.

“Well, thank Daana’d we found out what was wrong before the situation

became a diplomatic embarrassment. We are most fortunate, are we not,

Bua-Shing?”

“Yes, Holiness.”

“So, now that the Realm has dealt with the threat that’s been menacing

your ships, when do you think we can expect to see a Neck tribute ship in Eagle’s

Launch? Sometime in the next month, I would assume?”

The chieftain’s mouth opened, and it hung open as he pondered his next

words, but I continued before any word could pass his lips.

“If you’d like, I’d be happy to take your beautiful wives and inquisitive

children back to the Realm with me as a favor to you, loyal Bua-Shing. I would

be honored to show them the many wonders of the Blessed Isle until your tribute

ship arrived to unload its cargo and bring them back to you. In fact,” I said,

smiling and slapping my hand hard on the table, “I insist on it.”

E XALTED

I paused for a moment, not just to catch my breath and congratulate myself

on resolving things quickly, but also to give the chieftain enough time to collect

his thoughts and speak.

After a moment of thought, Bua-Shing took a deep breath and gave me his

reply. “But, Holiness, unless I am grievously mistaken, your ship will be so full

of our humble tribute to the Realm that I doubt there will be room for my

beautiful wives and inquisitive children.”

After thinking on that for a moment, I looked up at the old man across from

me and smiled. He was brighter than I’d given him credit for. “What was I

thinking? You are so right, loyal Bua-Shing. I was so excited about showing your

family the Blessed Isle that I completely forgot about my humble ship’s space

limitations. We will have to defer their visit indefinitely, I’m afraid. I hope they

won’t be too disappointed.”

“They are young and resilient, Holiness. They will recover from their

disappointment.”

“Yes, loyal Bua-Shing, I’m sure they will. I can’t think of anything else

that would interfere with the regular delivery of the Neck’s tribute hence-

forth, can you?”

I was certain that my audience with the chieftain was over and that I could

start making arrangements for the Dancing Raiton ’s repairs, but he made no

move to leave. When he took in a deep breath and left his mouth open

searching for words in that way he was wont to do, I realized that there was

something else on his mind.

“It is not just the dangerous waters that have kept us from sending tribute,

Holiness. At the express instruction of an Immaculate monk who visited nearly

a year ago, we ceased our practice of making offerings to Shepolpa, the Goddess

of Hungry Waters. Since then, not only have many of our shell divers drowned,

but every storm is heralded by an attack by the thousand hungry wings.”

“And you hold Shepolpa responsible for both of these developments?”

“Yes, Holiness.”

I heard the strain in his voice, and I felt pity for this old man. Some dogmatic

monk tells his people to change their ways and conveniently leaves before

addressing the consequences of his advice. Unfortunately, it was an increasingly

common story in the chaotic days since the Empress’ disappearance.

“You say the thousand hungry wings arrive before storms?”

“Yes, Holiness.”

“Like the one approaching now?”

“ Exactly like this one, Holiness.”

“I wish you’d said something sooner.”

The main street of Solid Shell was called Shell Street. It was the only

straight street in the city, and like most of the major thoroughfares in the city,

it was covered with a tall translucent archway to let light in while keeping the

citizens dry during the frequent rains. Shell Street ran the width of the island

and opened onto the port on the east side of the island and onto an old temple

to Daana’d on the west. According to Bua-Shing, when the Wyld-maddened

birds attacked, they came from the west, through the Gate of Daana’d, and flew

from there down the various side streets, devouring — to the bone — anyone

not behind thick doors and shuttered windows.

Word went through the city that every able-bodied archer was to meet at

the western end of Shell street. I stood at the opening of the Daana’d gate.

Down a wide stairway hewn from the basalt of the island itself was the enormous

domed shrine to the Immaculate Dragon of Water. Those who considered

themselves archers began to trickle in from the side streets with quivers of

arrows and bows that hadn’t been fired in months, if not years. I had brought

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