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Chapter 5 in which Sethion hits things

  Sethion slowly lowered himself from the boat into the ocean, dipping his bare toes into the cold water. With a deep sigh, he relaxed his grip, slipping into the waves in a moment of weightlessness. Then, his feet touched the sand hidden under the surface. Pushing against the current, he forced his way to the rocky shore, holding his belongings above his head. Sethion didn't turn back, refusing to meet the gaze of the fisher, who was, without a doubt, watching.

  Salty water clashed against his naked frame, and he fiercely prayed for the stranger's vessel to collapse under his feet. The nobleman's face burned with indignation under the humiliating treatment. Seagulls cried in the distance as Sethion climbed over slippery rocks protruding from the ocean. In the distance, a wall of trees bloomed, creating a green horizon. One day into his journey, he had survived more turns and surprises than in his entire prior life. He continued onward.

  ?

  Sethion punched a tree. Bare knuckles scraped against the rough wood. The tree didn't retaliate - it didn't have to. The recoil hit back hard enough already, covering his left hand in scratches. Sethion pressed his teeth together, and his fist connected again with the wood. It was a good punch, with smooth execution handled with concentrated force, and it did not decelerate at any point. Not that the skill and velocity of the attack mattered. Sethion was, after all, embroiled in one-sided combat with a plant.

  The young man's eyes flared. He shifted his upper body to lash out again.

  All this useless planning, and in the end, it's all luck.

  The tree received one last love tap before Sethion sat down with his back against the trunk.

  That was close, too close.

  He inhaled deeply, calming himself down, listening to nothing but his ragged breath. For a second, with his eyes closed, he just was. All his thoughts came and went, simply flowing without distracting him.

  I made it. That's all that counts. The rest happens when it happens.

  The die had been cast, and now all Sethion could do was roll with it. He messaged his arm, which throbbed from the unnecessary abuse. It was a good feeling, intense enough to supersede the pain for a bit, which gradually carved all other emotions out of him.

  Not feeding the worms yet.

  The thief took in his surroundings. Trees as far as the eye could see.

  Sethion found himself alone in the woods again in a weird twist of fate or a lack of diversity in the local fauna. It should have scared him. After all, his current situation had been the prelude to a bloodbath. Still, a dumb grin stretched across Sethion's face, a rapid shift from his earlier complexion. The young man whistled in an audible tone. In front of him stood a wooden box next to the other contents of his bag. The box he had risked his entire life for. There was nothing special about it, but conceivably its contents.

  What if it's not in there?

  He shook his head.

  No. It has to be. The legionnaires retrieved it specifically.

  He felt the smooth wood with his hands, following the simple but elegant craftsmanship. His thumb ran over the metal lock—the last hurdle. There was only a single problem. The key was currently located thousands of steps to the west, dangling from the neck of a presumably frenzied patrician. His grin split his face from ear to ear.

  I hope he is furious.

  Sethion examined the lock, pocking the cylinder, searching for weaknesses.

  Yeah, I have no idea how to do this. Hmm. Well, I suppose we will have to do it the old-fashioned way.

  Sethion shrugged and began examining the rest of his unlawfully obtained spoils. A single loaf of bread, a purse full of denarii and golden aurei, a bottle of frankincense, a mangled map, a water jug, and a letter. He cracked his knuckles.

  Time to get to work.

  Sethion wandered through the woods, examining the ground before him. The map gave him a vague direction of Sinu, but the city remained far away.

  Come on. There has to be a rock somewhere.

  A light breeze tickled his skin. He drew a breath of fresh air, which smelled of wood and leaves. A bird alighted on a branch above him and chirped. A rustle in the canopy made him flinch. His mind began turning, recollecting the events of the previous days. Things had turned ugly in ways he had never intended.

  And the worst part of it all? It benefited him. The Cu Sith had muddied the waters, masked his escape, and probably slowed his pursuers. Sethion rubbed his sore legs. The nightly escapade had left some traces. He liked it. The marks on his body made the events real, not just a figment of his dying mind. It told him everything had been more than a bizarre fever dream.

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  ?

  A stone flew up in the air, catching a few rays of sunlight on his ascend before it landed between Sethion's fingers. Without much fanfare, he smashed it against the wooden box at full throttle. Splinters exploded outwards, but the stolen good held firm. The impact reverberated through his hand, causing small tremors.

  More difficult than I thought it would be.

  Sethion shifted the sharp edge of the stone, positioning it like a spear tip before launching another attack. A whack resounded through the forest, then another and another, until a cry of triumph rang loud and far. A sizable dent scarred the elegant craftsmanship.

  With refound vigor, Sethion began pounding again, driving the stone deeper and deeper into the wood. There was something strangely freeing about targeted destruction. He focused on a single task, hitting and hitting hard. No plots, schemes, or weirdly religious fishers. Beauty in simplicity. Slowly, the dent widened, turning into a hole and then becoming an opening. Blood rushed through his ears, and his body jolted due to an influx of sudden energy.

  Everything or nothing.

  Sethion reached into the wooden box, carefully avoiding all the sharp splinters. He pushed the lid open from the inside. Light seeped into the box, illuminating the contents.

  No, this can't be.

  Inside the box lay a stack of letters in disarray addressed to various Mercor business partners. Sethion flipped through them, ripping the papers apart one by one until shreds fell like snow.

  No, no, no.

  He turned the box upside down, shaking it with all his strength. Nothing but letters fell before his feet, joining the litter on the ground. A stifled shout rang out.

  Sethion walked in circles around the box, pulling on his locks. Every couple of steps, he looked into the container again, hoping to see something else. Unfortunately, reality didn't bend to his wishes.

  Why? Why? It doesn't make any sense. Why follow me if all I have is a stack of worthless letters? Didn't you want me to disappear?

  He shook his head while burrowing his nails into his thighs. Deeper and deeper to overshadow the stinging thoughts. A kick hit the box.

  How? I saw Father bring the box and hide it. The legionnaires came to recover it.

  The young man examined the wooden container, searching for a missed detail, hint, or anything else. All he found was a damaged lid. It looked like any other wooden box. An idea jolted through his mind, obvious in hindsight but overlooked in panic.

  A hidden compartment. There has to be a hidden compartment.

  Sethion wrapped his hand in cloth and threw out the wooden splinters. His fingers scraped over the bottom, searching for a mechanism.

  Nothing.

  Sweat dripped into his eyes as it trickled down from his forehead. A mild annoyance, unimportant during this pivotal moment. His fingers clasped around the stone. It almost felt natural by now, using it as a tool. He forced the stone's sharp edge into the wood, surgically striking a delicate balance between destroying the wood and preserving the container's contents.

  Then, the bottom broke or, more accurately, a thin inner plate broke. A rectangular light-brown hide shimmered through. Sethion's heart leaped. He remained stiff as a corpse for a moment, only staring at the hide. Fear flashed through his eyes. The young man extracted it slowly, his touch light as if holding a child.

  Under the sunlight, Sethion could finally bask in the hide's glory.

  Countless crimson runes decked the sheet, following no distinct pattern he could recognize. The lines wobbled before him, akin to a living being, shifting in response to his presence, rushing up to meet his fingers. More stunning than any artwork, more sophisticated than the greatest machinery, and more expensive than the finest gem. A contract.

  The hide had the unmistakable touch of magic, sending shivers coursing through his body. Goosebumps spread over his skin.

  That's how you know it's authentic.

  Sethion sat in silence, marveling at the intertwining lines of red runes beckoning him closer and filling him with pure bliss. Instinctively, he could tell that the paper contained a bargain, an offer - a part of yourself in exchange for a part of someone, no something else.

  A slight giggle left his lips, growing in intensity over time until he outright laughed. Sethion spun in a circle, holding out the contract before him. Not for a blink did his eyes leave the precious treasure. In his hands, he held the chance of becoming a demigod, the power to become a myth, a way to walk the path of emperors and usurpers.

  His stomach fluttered, and his steps turned lighter. After two years, he had finally gotten a reason to celebrate again. All those men, fighting a myth to their end, had not died for nothing.

  "Oh, what do I do with you?" Sethion addressed the contract. There had been a time when the contract had been his right as the rightful heir. Childhood dreams flared to the front of his mind.

  "Head back to the sea serpent? Or find a dragon, perhaps? A lightning bird or garuda would also do."

  A silly grin played around his lips. The young man smacked his palms against his cheeks.

  "Stay focused."

  In another person's eyes, the inscribed piece of hide would have been an invaluable prize, but for Sethion, it was possible to regain what he had long thought was lost.

  What are my odds now, I wonder? Did I get promoted from inevitable death to certain death?

  Sethion shook his head as his musings turned sour.

  A chance. I have a chance. This is more than anyone ever gave me.

  Sethion hid the remnants of the once whole wooden box under some leaves. Then, without wasting more time, he took the first step toward Sinu. He had a city to reach while preferring to sleep anywhere but on the ground.

  The short-term vagabond didn't reach the biggest city in the empire's west before nightfall. Sethion didn't make it before sunrise, nor did he on the second day. Navigating through the woods had been more demanding than he had imagined. He probably wouldn't have made it if he had not wandered in one direction until he encountered a road indicated on his map. It was noon on the third day when he glimpsed at the towering city gates from the distance. The sight electrified him, sending currents of energy through his exhausted body.

  The finish line was within reach.

  Now, covered in sweat and the resulting smell, he waited in queue to enter the city. The once pristine toga spotted more brown and green spots than white. Blisters scratched against his shoes. An uneven stubble had grown on his usually cleanly shaven face.

  He tried his best to dust off the filth but only managed to distribute it more evenly. The accumulation of sweat, dirt, and numerous other substances clung to him like a second skin. Sethion had never been more tainted in his life.

  Curse that fisher. May the sirens take him.

  Lying in the dirt while having a seizure had been one of the most humiliating experiences in his short life. Afterward, his speed had increased considerably. There were few greater motivators than a looming death and perhaps a bath.

  Once it was his turn, the guard raised an eyebrow but let Sethion pass as soon as the required coinage changed hands. The young man hurried into the city. There was much to do and little time.

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