--

Altonia:

The Tale of Arc Semmor

--

Chapter 1

The Merchant’s Son

--

“I will sell for…no less than twenty litnium.”

“Twenty litnium?! You are mad if you think I’ll pay that much!”

“I’d think you were mad if you didn’t get your hands on this relic!” Samuel Semmor turned from his potential customer to the oaken table that stood behind him, picking up the sword in question. It was beautiful, crafted by a master of metalworking to be sure. The blade was made of gold, the hilt of polished silver. The weapon was short, maybe even shorter than an Enforcer like those the Watch used. It would not hold up in battle, for certain…gold was too soft a metal to be used for that. But it would do quite nicely on any nobleman’s mantle.

“A blade like this, why, it would be stolen within the week!” The garishly dressed customer said. “I don’t want my home being broken into because of some sword!”

“That is the point!” Samuel said delightedly. “Why, every pickpocket in a mile is staring at me right now waiting for me to turn my back, but they know I keep my things well protected.” He admired the sword for a moment himself, and then turned away, wrapping it with silk. “You see, it is a focus of jealousy! All eyes turn to it and in turn its owner!” Samuel was on a roll with this one…

“But-“ The other man began to protest, wringing his red cape and looking about the crowded street.

“When you have this, what will others think of you? They will want something like it for themselves, but they cannot find anything like this in all of Altonia! It is one-of-a-kind, and certainly worth the litnium! Look…” Samuel put his arm around the noble’s shoulders in a friendly sort of way, and the other man was too surprised to reject him. He made a grand gesture to the sword that lay wrapped on the table. “…when they walk into your sitting room they will see a ray of golden light shoot up from the far end of the room-“

“How did you know my fireplace was on the far end of the sitting-“

“-and they will think a divine light is shining in the room!” Samuel carried on without a pause. “Then lo and behold, it is a sword of the purest gold and silver, lying there as if ready to be taken up by a warrior of the gods! And they will know that there is no weapon like it in all the world, and they will also know there is no man like the one that owns it.”

Samuel smiled at the man in such a way it might have brought tears to one’s eyes to see him. The nobleman appeared flustered, then confused…and finally reached into his pocket and brought out several small silver-blue coins. “Very well, Semmor…you have convinced me.” He handed Samuel the coins and an instant later the sword was in his hands and he was walking down the street towards his home, surrounded by members of the Watch that kept shady-looking citizens as far away as possible.

Samuel chuckled and turned to the table…or more to the child standing behind it looking at a golden amulet on the table with vague interest. “You see, my boy.” Samuel said softy in his ear, suddenly kneeling by his side. “That is the way of my business. No one can resist buying something once it catches their eye, no matter what I have to do to get them to buy it.”

“Yes, father.” Arthur said solemnly. He didn’t care much for his father constantly showing him how ‘things were done in the world’, as he called it. His father was thicker than others, not fat…merely broad and strong. His hair was brown, and so were his eyes…as was Arthur’s.

“That man is a noble…there’s a trick to selling them things, son.” Samuel said quietly, glancing around quickly to see if anyone was eavesdropping…or trying to steal his merchandise. “They are vain, they love to be complimented…but never make them think they are better than anyone else! No…make them seem to only be above you, but lower than others of noble blood.” Samuel’s eyes glimmered. “Then they will buy anything that another doesn’t have, just to appease their own vanity. The same with politicians! Use their greedy hearts against them!”

“I understand, father.”

“I know you do, my boy!” Samuel crowed triumphantly. He was very proud of his son, no matter that he barely paid attention. The pride was in that he actually had a son at all, someone that could carry on the great Semmor legacy. “The world is a dark place, and humans the darkest of all! Greed is what defines our race, but we of the Semmor line are the exception! We know who is greedy…and what they are greedy for! We punish the others for their greed by making them want to pay us for things they don’t need!”

“Yes, father.” Arthur said slowly, still staring at the trinkets and baubles on the table.

Samuel sighed and stood up, ruffling his son’s hair. “Aye…those of noble blood look down on us now, but they don’t have what we have; a mind. And a powerful thing that is. More powerful than swords or gold…greater than even the magic of a Felean.” Samuel shivered after mentioning the Feleans…which had only recently in his lifetime become peaceful. “Arthur…we Semmor are going to rise up one day, you’ll see that happen. I might not be the one to do it...”

Samuel knelt by his son and made him look at him, poking his forehead with a thin finger. “But you have the spark of brilliance in you, boy! I can see it! I may not make this family rise to the top but I’ll be damned if you don’t! Just remember one thing, child…”

“Yes, father…” Arthur mumbled absently, since his father was now going on one of his wild tangents about blood and power.

“…too many people in the world listen to their heart. It’s going to be us that listens to our heads, and our heads are going to get us on top of others.”

Arthur sighed and nodded; he had heard this before. “I understand, father.”

“Good boy!” Samuel cried. “Now come on and help me pack up, your mother will be waiting to give us lunch…then we’ll go to the southern side of the city and pit our wit against the travelers from Maktek I hear are there!”

Arthur silently did as his father asked, still lost in his own childhood world. Still…his father’s words were inspiring. Maybe he would do something great one day…

--

Year 1050 A.C.

--

The sun gleamed on gold, silver, litnium, and other rare metals like liquid fire, and it burned within the hearts of jewels as bright as stars. The endless sea of fabulous items of wealth flowed across a background of brilliant blue velvet on an oaken table strong enough to hold the weight of a horse. Overhead was a green canopy that shaded the one behind the table, but allowed the brilliant sunlight to fall from the clear sky unhindered.

And the one behind the table was just as grand as what he was selling. It was a man with pale skin, brown hair, and brown eyes, dressed in black clothes and wearing an elegant cape of emerald-green that shimmered fabulously along with polished black boots. The man’s hair was short and clean, and he wore a small goatee proudly on his sharp chin. He was very thin…insanely thin. He looked at first like one that had been a sickly child before then, but his movements showed otherwise; they were swift and precise, done in plain sight and yet letting the beholder know there was some secret to his every gesture, some hidden purpose behind his small movements.

Arthur was Arthur no longer…he was Arc Semmor, and he worked to become the greatest merchant that ever lived in the city of Altran, capital of the human kingdom in Altonia. He was far from reaching that point right now, but he would reach it someday.

Ever since someone had robbed a stall in this area of the city, the Watch had been roaming about constantly, hands on sword hilts and eyes on the hands of others. That was a year ago, and no one had lost any merchandise since. No one would dare try and take something under the eyes of those plate-armor clad warriors.

Arc saw a blur of color out of the corner of his eye and turned to see a woman walking with an armored man (maybe of the Watch?), one that was dressed in very bright orange. Arc made sure he wasn’t looking in her direction when she looked in his…but he could feel her eyes straying over the shiny baubles on his table. Every merchant in Altran instinctively knew when his or her wares were being admired…it was a sense that was born of habit.

Arc glanced at her and quickly followed her gaze down to an amulet he had been in possession of for some years. It was bright silver, with a red jewel, perhaps a ruby, set in the golden claw attached to it. It was not very interesting compared to others in his collection, but the red stone in this one was shaped like a heart, and gleamed like bloody fire in the sunlight.

Arc instantly became very interested in a small dagger on the opposite side of the table, knowing what the woman was looking at as she walked up. He waited until she was only a few feet away from him, and then looked up at her with a wide smile on his face.

“G’day, my lady!” He said loudly. The man at her side was scowling at him…Arc made a mental note to not flirt with this woman, unlike the last customer he had served. “How can I help you?”

The woman, unlike her companion, reacted positively to his friendly approach. A good sign. “Well, I was wondering if you had a certain kind of jewelry in your possession…” So she’s done this before…Arc thought…I must be cautious.

“What kind would that be, m’lady?”

“Nothing.” The man at her side said gruffly, putting his hand on the woman’s shoulder. Oh…this man is a problem. Arc’s fears were groundless, however; the woman shoved the man’s hand off of her and pointed to a completely different necklace in mock interest.

“Where does this one come from?”

“This little thing comes from a shop in the city of Messara.” Arc answered quickly.

“That is on the edge of the desert, correct?”

“It is, m’lady.”

“Hmm…what is that stone set in it?” She pointed to the golden necklace, where the rose-colored stone gleamed.

“It used to be a stone of Jar.” Arc said, picking the necklace up gently. “You might want to know that Jar-Stones as they are can be deadly to most humans…but this one has been drained of all magical power.

“Oh…hmm…” The woman didn’t look very interested in it any more…in fact she seemed repelled. “What about this one? Where does it come from?” She was now pointing to the original item of interest; the heart amulet.

“This…” Arc picked it up and looked it over, as if trying to remember. “…I am not quite sure. It may have some from the city of Alton on the coast, but this ruby is of a higher quality than the ones that pass through their trade-ways.” He set it down and tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Perhaps it came from the north; it has been in my possession for many years and I cannot quite remember.”

“How much for it?” The noblewoman asked, which cued her companion to sigh.

“No more than six litnium pieces.” Arc said confidently. The woman chewed her lip thoughtfully and nodded to her companion.

“But mistress-“

“No buts, Cedric!” She said quickly, cutting him off. “This will go perfectly with my dress for tomorrow evening, and I will not take no for an answer. Where is my money-purse?” With another sigh the man handed her the coins and from her the coins passed to Arc, who slipped them into his sleeve pocket with a twitch of his wrist, and with another twist he closed the fastener on the pocket. The woman patiently waited while the man put the amulet about her neck, and with a smile and goodbye they were both gone.

And none the wiser.

Arc smiled and kicked open a chest on the ground; he had just sold the amulet for more than twenty times what it would have cost! He had no need to stay out on the street for the rest of the day when he had enough to keep him fed and happy for at least a week (a piece of litnium was equal to fifty gold coins, a gold coin was fifty silver, a silver was ten copper, and a copper was a peasant's daily salary). He would come out tomorrow morning, but there was no need to be here this afternoon.

He carefully began picking up the items on his table, setting them inside the oaken chest where a velvet pad lay to receive them. When everything was stored. Layers of cloth between them, he folded the cloth that had been on the table and placed it over the other things, closing the lid of the chest and locking both locks with a small silver key that was badly tarnished.

He was just standing up when he saw another table on the other side of the cobbled street. It was more of a desk, really, with wood that was the bright color of pine and lacquered to be weather-proof. He had not seen it before, intent as he was on the people around him. Intricate symbols were burned into the surface of the wood, and Arc swore that every time he blinked they shifted and changed.

He raised an eyebrow at the new merchant’s table (though the owner was nowhere in sight) and picked up his rather heavy chest, vanishing down a small side-street behind a group of the Watch. They would protect him on his way to the 3rd District, where his home was cramped between other houses.

The only thing that noted his leaving was a small creature watching him from the top of a roof, and after chattering to its hooded and cloaked companion it vanished as well.

--

Click!

Arc opened one eye with a jerk, looking around the room with blurred gaze. He was lying in his bed, wrapped in emerald-green sheets, the room almost black as pitch around him. Other than a bed and dresser, lit by moonlight streaming in through a window, the room was unfurnished and plain; but on top of the dresser was the chest that kept most of his most valuable merchandise.

The air was frigid, even now in the middle of spring; the weather in Altonia was always unpredictable due to the pools of magic underground that altered the climate so drastically. They were the reason why the Maktek Desert and the Fross Jungle were right beside each other.

Arc could see motes of dust floating in the moonlight, recently disturbed early in the morning, and they cast tiny points of shadow on the wood of the chest…along with the larger shadow in front of it, cast by something that was quite clearly trying to get inside of it.

Arc opened both eyes in shock, glancing over to his window…but it was not open. The thief had gotten inside some other way. He reached under his pillow, drawing out a short silver-bladed knife.

“Eka…stupid…lock…”The thief muttered to himself; Arc was sure it was a male, but his voice was high and shrill even though it was a whisper. “Almost…”

“Unhand that chest, vandal!” Arc cried, leaping up from the bed and holding his knife high over his head. With a choking noise he tripped on his sheets, which were wrapped around his legs, falling to the wooden floorboards with a solid thump. The thief dropped the wire he had been using as a lockpick, gasping in surprise and horror. He stood there for only a moment longer and then started to back away. With a squeal the thief tripped on a pillow that had been thrown off of the bed, falling on his back.

Arc reached out with his free hand, grasping at the intruder’s leg in the darkness. He felt contact, and closed his fingers around…

Fur? He thought. He jerked, dropping the knife and reaching with his other hand to grab the thief’s other leg. Fur! “Felean! Get out of my house!”

“Let me go, you thick-skulled imbecile!” The creature screamed in a voice so high it hurt Arc’s ears and made them ring. “I say let me go!”

“Come here!” Arc was desperately trying to pull the thing towards him, to stab it with the knife so it couldn’t get away, and the creature was desperately trying to not let that happen. “You aren’t getting away from me!”

“Vivilos!” The creature cried in a clear voice, kicking at Arc at the same time. A blinding flash of white light seared his eyes, and he hissed between clenched teeth in pain…but still didn’t let the thief go. “Now try and stop m-oof! Let me go! Chuka mak seevar! Lar se ragg!”

“You…aren’t…going…anywhere!” Arc gasped, opening his eyes and blinking away tears.

Motes of sparking light danced about, an aftereffect of the magic the thief had used; Arc only now realized that it had been magic. The glow from the sparks illuminated the face of the thief…and showed it to be a rat. A very big rat. Its fur was black and shiny, as if wet, and its large black eyes glimmered in rage. It was wearing armor made of black leather with small metal studs sewn all over it, and on a belt it carried several bags…and a knife that was big enough for it to hold as a sword. Had they been standing, the creature would stand no higher than Arc’s waist.

“If it’s a fight you want, human, then a fight you shall have!” Arc released the creature…he was no longer sure if this was a Felean at all, but perhaps some new beast. The rat stood up on its hind-paws, drawing the knife from its belt.

“I’ll call the Watch!” Arc threatened, fumbling for his knife.

“’I’ll call the Watch!’” The rat mimicked. “Go ahead! What are they going to do? Arrest me?! See you in the Dark, human!” With that the rat reached out and grabbed the chest, holding it up over its head as though already exalting in the glory of its loot. “Chumar seviss, sumar lahs der mokah!”

There was a bright flare of light, and the chest was gone. Not burned, not thrown across the room, but utterly vanished. Arc felt a painful tingle race across his body from head to foot, and he shivered uncontrollably for no reason he knew of.

“Come here, beast!”

“Unhand me!”

Arc tackled the thief’s legs, dropping him to the ground with a thump that threw up dust. He felt a stinging sensation, and saw the point of the knife digging into his left forearm, drawing blood. The blade was thin, and wickedly sharp, and before Arc could react the beast had stabbed him several times on the same arm. Arc let go of the creature with a gasp of pain, clutching his bleeding limb to his chest as the thief jumped up and ran from the room.

“Get back here, you little bastard!” Arc cried, getting hastily to his feet and running after the giant rat. He saw its tail flick around the corner of the hallway, and the door slam against a table as it was yanked open. Arc followed just behind the creature as it ran out into the street, and then watched helplessly as it dived into an open sewer-drain. The hole was sealed behind it by another rate, this one with brown fur, and then there was nothing but silence.

“Damnit! Damnit to hell! The Watch is going to hear about this!”