An end to the ocean

[The Humble Sage]

The Sage awoke with his face pressed against unrelenting concrete. He felt light-headed, almost faint, and he seriously considered whether he even wanted to open his eyes. The smallest glimmer of a thought managed to skip across his cranium, the flash of sunlight in glass, the shocking pain raked across his chest yet again, and The agony shocked him back into some semblance of awareness. The Bounty hunter. The memories flashed into his brain and he recalled the sequence of events that had led him to his current predicament.

He should be dead. The Sage grunted and leaned back against the wall of the alleyway. It was early morning, if the faint traces of light visible above the roofs were anything to go by. He must have passed out at some point during his flight the night before. How had he survived? His hand went to his chest. He should have bled out from the slash that he had taken at the end there.

Rummaging through the tattered remnants of his tunic, he traced his hand across the gash gingerly. He winced, the wound was still extremely tender. The slice was still there, he could feel it, razor thin, but extremely deep. As he traced a finger along the wound, he felt strange ridges, almost like… Did someone stitch me up? He thought, glancing down. He had always had a bit of a weak stomach for injuries, particularly his own. His head spun slightly as he stared at the slice. There was some sort of strange black cord that was threaded across the injury. The stitching was incredibly fine, whoever had done it must have been an extremely practiced physician. Or they had magic on their side… he thought as he stared at the perfectly parallel threads.

Regardless, he owed his life to whomever had done it. He shifted into a more comfortable position, and tried to take stock of things. His clothes were in tatters, and his dueling cane was missing. He’d struck Hiro in the throat with it, he remembered. The Satchel he carried his books and other supplies in was lying nearby, though the strap had been severed clean through during the fight. Had he carried the satchel away with him? That seemed like an odd choice. Still he had no other explanation, unless the person who had fixed his injuries had also brought it for him. Regardless he was likely still being searched for by Cinnabar’s law enforcement. In his current state he could neither deny his involvement nor elude capture. He needed time to recover, a place where he could be safe.

Looking down the alleyway, he saw a backdoor of some kind. With a wheezing cough, The Sage slide up the side of the wall, leaning against it for support. He made his way towards the door, dragging his satchel by the broken strap. After a painful few minutes, he reached the metal door. To his dismay, it refused to budge. With an almost feral growl of determination he slumped against the handle of the door, and began to absorb its handle’s Omnilium. He hated using this power. He felt empty, almost hollow, like he was stealing the very essence of the metal. It’s so strange… that by literally gaining in power I would feel weakened…  He didn’t need to extract the handle the whole way, just enough to deteriorate the locking mechanism. With a grunt he heaved on the handle of the door, and to his gratitude he heard the clicking of the lock. The door swung open and the Sage fell into a dark storeroom of some kind. This would do. The Sage pushed the door shut behind him and concentrated. The rainbow swirl of Omnilium lit the room, it was time to rest, to plan. He needed to think through his next steps.

[The Humble Sage]

In the end it was his hunger that eventually drew the Sage out of his Omnilium-healing stupor. He supposed he could have just summoned himself something to eat, but he had tried that during his stint stowed away aboard Carmen’s ship. The food had been very tasteless as he recalled. Filling but not fulfilling. And therefore useless as a meal. With a groan of pain and stiffened joints he got to his feet. The Zoran tunic had been all but destroyed, in its place he had summoned a very plain dull red tunic. He was not going to be walking across the ocean anymore, and the plainer red was far less distinctive.

After the amount of fighting he had ended up involved with since his arrival here, he had also elected to summon a small amount of armor. It wasn’t enough to turn away a blade like Hiro’s, but the leather pads would serve to absorb some of the impact from the blows he seemed to keep taking. His new walking stick was also a reflection of this entirely too frequent occurrence. The resummoned weapon was a leaner piece of wood, reinforced with streaks of metal to help it stand up to more solid opposition. He would have to stop getting into situations without an escape plan. He was still sloppy from his time in the capital.

With a sigh, the Sage got to his feet and headed towards the door of storeroom. A small spark, likely left over energy from the extended amount of summoning he had just been doing, jumped from the door handle and the Sage retracted his hand. Images of the Bio-weapon, its back arching as the lethal amounts of current were shunted through its body flashed in his brain. The explosion. The fear he had seen in the eyes of the Cinnibar citizens nearby. They were the most inhuman of beings, but in that moment he had felt they were more human than him or the Imperial agents he had been fighting. He had done what was necessary, but the astronomer from Camelot had seemed more irritated than anything else by the turn of events. Nothing of the lives he had upturned with his actions. Then that bounty hunter, Hiro, had sought his blood. Not for the horror of his actions but only for the recipients of which he had chosen.

There is so much violence in this world. He mused, Neither the Empire nor the Kingdom can claim innocence of it. With a grimace he pulled open the door and stepped out into the alleyway. And I will not let them. Leaning somewhat heavily on his newly fashioned walking stick, he hobbled down the alley towards the smell of a hot meal.

[The Humble Sage]

The Sage slipped out of the alleyway quickly, his satchel repaired and a small amount of imperial credits summoned up to pay for his meal. Merchants here in Cinnabar might give him some dirty looks over the choice of currency, but they would accept it as genuine and move on, without questioning further. If he had shown his foreign status by asking the currency or else just paying with raw Omnilium that would only serve to connect him to all the prime-related chaos that had been plaguing the island of late. He had over-stayed his welcome here in Cinnabar, it would be for the best if he moved on before more trouble started.

The merchant, a bright red Yoshi, gave him the expected squint-eyed glare as he took the imperial credits. The Sage thanked the Yoshi for the steaming fish, and moved on before the vendor got too suspicious. The Sage made his way towards the docks with as little pause as possible. There were few enough humans on the island that he was already more noticeable than he would like. The sirens of the Cinnabar police announced their presence, and the Sage darted into a nearby alleyway, as the two patrol cars passed. With the amount of prime-related chaos on Cinnabar lately, the law enforcement was on high alert. He needed to be on his way sooner rather than later.

Reaching the docks, the Sage began to assess his potential escape options. He needed a ship that would be nondescript, one that would pass the Imperial blockade by being not worth their time to pursue. A ship whose captain would not be especially inclined to ask questions as well, that he might be let aboard and be on his way before he could be implicated in the recent events of the island.
 
“Oy! You there, in the red!” The call rang out amidst the crowded docks, and the Sage looked up in alarm, unsure of the caller’s intentions and preparing to bolt. He paused, frowning in confusion as a mildly familiar dwarf approached him from one of the jetties. The Sage stopped, waiting as the well-armed warrior closed. There was a good part of the Sage that expected this to go poorly, but the dwarf had called him from a significant distance. If he decided to bolt the dwarf would be unable to keep up. A demonstration of faith that I will remain… You must not have been  The Sage turned to wait for the dwarf’s approach.

“Do I know you?” The Sage asked, placing his walking stick in front of him and resting his hands on top of it. The Dwarf neared, a glowing pipe stuck out amongst grinning teeth.

“Na’ really lad. I’m just plum tickled we w’re able ta find you so quickly.” The Dwarf said, doffing his leather helm. With an air of good-natured mockery, he made a short bow. “I be Daedlin Thol Geshud, an’ I have been sent ta find you if’n I was able to. An old friend a yours is lookin’ fer you… do ye remember Dasha?” he asked, as he re donned his leather cap.

The Sage nodded hesitantly, “She ran that inn back in Coasta del Sol, Yes?” the dwarf nodded eagerly “Why did she ask you to find me? I have yet to find any leads on where…”

The Dwarf waved him into silence. “Aye, aye, no need ta worry about that lad…. She’s asked me to find you an’ bring you back. She said she’s got some kinda lead or sumthin’ for you. I’m jus’ supposed to take you aback to the inn.” He scratched his head with an almost sheepish grin. “I mighta owed her a favor for the mess I made the las’ time I was there…” Daedlin fixed the sage with a very earnest look. “You’d be doin’ me a solid if’n you did come, lad.”

The Sage nodded, “Then lead on, good sir dwarf, I will of course assist your endeavors.” Daedlin’s grin returned. And he waved for the Sage to follow him towards the small caravel he had come from, and the Sage proceeded down the jetty after the captain. A favor to Dasha, eh? Your arrival here seems entirely too convenient. Why are you really being so generous, shall we see?

Daedlin bounded up the gangplank and began hollering at passing crewmen. The Sage followed more sedately, stepping onto the deck and off-handedly inspecting the ship. The craftsmanship was both impressive and quite new. All the wood was well polished, and the sails shown with the promise of new horizons.This ship has yet to be tested… The Sage thought as Daedlin turned back to him.

“We’re all set to go. We just got into port early this mornin’. Turns out Mewtwo’s haven’ some sort of problems wit’ the Imperials, so my men wouldn’t have been let off the ship anyways. We’re better off if’n we just head out again, rather than wait’n around. I was expectin’ to have to chase you all aroun’ the Deeps. I was jus’ expecting to find a lead or two here on where’d you gone off to.” Daedlin scratched his beard, “Honestly you turnin’ up on the docks like that was a plum stroke a luck for me!” The Dwarf let out a hardly laugh and slapped the Sage on the back with a surprising amount of force. The Sage managed to keep his footing and returned Daedlin’s joviality with a thin smile.

The Dwarf seemed contented by his response and turned away as the ship's crew began preparations for leaving. Yes, a stroke of luck indeed. The Sage turned and strolled to the prow of the ship. This should make for an interesting voyage.

[The Humble Sage]

The small caravel set out from Cinnabar Island with a strong wind at its back. The Sage had to admire the effectiveness of the crew that Daedlin had manning the vessel. The deck was organized, and the ship moved along at a solid clip. The Dwarf was a competent seaman, and the crew seemed quite eager to follow his simplest of commands. A fresh ship and a shiny young crew… The Sage mused as he stared out at the dwindling form of Cinnabar Island.  There really is an interesting story going on here. he thought, turning back to regard the ship he was on. Daedlin was quickly inspecting the ship before they arrived at the Imperial blockade. The Sage watched him as he made his way around the vessel. You’re doing a marvelous job of not explaining what’s going on here, dwarf. This isn’t a trading vessel… surely you must have some knowledge of the Empires interests in my location? Whatever you’re planning, you are certainly willing to take some significant risks to accomplish them.
 
The Sage’s gaze drifted away from the captain as he continued his inspection and ahead to the growing silhouette of the imperial blockade. Even languishing in their fixed positions, the galleons of the Imperial navy were a sight to behold. The tall masts stood stark against the horizon, sails furled, but the flag of the imperial navy flew proudly from the mast of every single member of the armada. The thought of even attempting to challenge such an array of warfare was enough to give the Sage a headache. And yet his current course was likely to put him on a direct collision course with their efforts sooner or later. It would be some time before he could begin to challenge them in force however. For now, my ways must be those of the wisp… He had slipped past them on his way into Cinnabar by going underneath the ocean, but it did not seem likely that Daedlin’s ship would transform into a submersible. The dwarf must have some other plan in mind.
 
The Sage made his way down to intercept the captain as he finished up his inspection. “I don’t mean to be forward, but I would assume you are aware of my status in the eyes of the Empire?” he gave the dwarf a meaningful look, “I don’t think it would be a good thing for any of us if I was to be found aboard your vessel. It could lead to a very awkward line of questioning about my most recent…escapades on Cinnabar that I would prefer not to…”
 
Daedlin waved the Sage into silence with a grin and a shake of his head. “No need to worry on tha’ account laddie, I have no intention o’ letting myself get nabbed by them imperials for stowin’ a fugitive.” He crossed his arms and his grin widened, “Can’t kill many trolls when you’re stuck breathin’ water in Impel Down now can ye?” he made a sweeping gesture with one hand and led the Sage down into the belly of the ship. “We got a plan together already for this part o’ the journey.” He said, weaving his way between a very haphazard assortment of boxes and barrels, making his way towards the back of the vessel.
 
 We? The Sage thought as he followed the mercenary captain, I don’t think Dasha gave you this detailed a plan, friend dwarf. As they neared the back of the ship, the Sage considered confronting Daedlin then and there. While he didn’t doubt the mercenary would be able to over-power him in a fight, the dwarf seemed to be going to decent lengths to keep the Sage on board with his story. Perhaps he would be better suited to play along with whatever scheme the dwarf was plotting, at least for the present.
 
They reached the back of merchant ship, and the Sage was slightly confused to find a hammock and light set up in the very back of the boat. “If you’re plan is that they won’t find me back here, I think one of us has a very skewed view on the scrutiny with which the imperial navy will be inspecting this ship.”
 
Daedlin gave him a sort of lop-sided grin, almost like he was confused. “Do you think we’d just have ye sittin’ on yer thumbs back here? of course the Imperial dogs are gonna come sniffin’ around my cargo-hold. How else are they gonna ‘confiscate’ whatever portion of my goods their quota is making them take now?” Daedlin reached up to clap the Sage on the shoulder, a task he was almost too short to accomplish, and the Sage found himself resisting the urge to lean down to make it less awkward. “No sir, you are gonna use your little orb friend and make a wall here fer you to hide behind.” There was slight pause before he continued, “That’s somethin’ you primes can do I’nt it?”
 
The Sage studied Daedlin’s features for a moment before nodding slowly, “I do believe that could be done, but it will take time.” And I will have no way of knowing when it is safe for me to come back unless you were to tell me… The Sage was not finding himself particularly keen on this particular idea, but given his lack of alternatives, he saw very little else he could do. The Sage moved over to the crawlspace and began to concentrate, doing his best to absorb the details of the wooden wall he would be summoning a replica of.
 
“You should find a decent store o’ food there too. If things go according to plan and it’s just a standard inspection, ye won’t need it. But ye can never really count on anything being standard when it comes to these inspections, so I didn’t want make any kinda assumptions.” The Dwarf gave a sort of apologetic grin which the Sage didn’t bother to acknowledge, then turned to go. “We’re getting close to the blockade, so I’ll leave ye to your summoning.”
 
The Sage watched him go, this last conversation seals the deal, Daedlin.  I can’t wait to see who is really behind all of this.

[The Humble Sage]

The Sage sat back in the hammock that hung in his newly separated cubby space. Despite the fact that he had been in the Omniverse for almost a month, he still felt drained after summoning such a large object. Smaller items, like the clothes he was wearing or the books that he had stuffed into the bulging satchel that rested open against the edge of the summoned wall, were simple enough. However, if what people said about these worlds were true, then many of the things he had seen had been created in exactly the same way. The amount of practice and pure Omnilium that such acts would require was honestly mind-boggling.

The Sage sighed and pulled out the journal. There was almost no point in even trying to decode the thing anymore. He was now quite certain that whatever language the book might be; the passages were also in some form of code as well. He could not say with absolute certainty that the code was intentional, this was the Omniverse after all, but he felt certain he was missing some kind of key detail about the language. The truth was it would likely end up being something of no consequence, his efforts would probably be better directed elsewhere.

The heavy tromping of measured marching brought him out his revere. The Sage eased out of his hammock and into a subtle crouch. With one ear pressed against the wall, he could hear muffled voices speaking in the cargo hold outside and the marching of feet continued to sound from the roof above him. The Blockade must be inspecting the vessel. He realized as the footsteps drew closer. There were two distinct pairs of strides, one he felt relatively certain he recognized as being Daedlin’s, the other was too measured and purposeful to be anything less that the officer in charge. Their voices were indistinguishable over the noise the waves made as they smacked against the wooden sides of the caravel. They were headed towards him, of that much he was certain, and the Sage strained, trying to hear some snatch of their conversation. Had Daedlin broken so quickly and already sold him out?

He couldn’t hear the words they were saying but even just listening to the tones of their speech was enough that he could get the jist of their conversation. He was mildly reassured that Daedlin’s voice seemed far too nervous to be selling him out. That being said, if the Sage could detect his nervousness through a wooden wall, there was a decent chance that the Navy’s inspector would be onto him as well. The voices receded, and after a short time the rocking of the waves took on a new pace. It seems we have set sail once again. If things had gone according to Daedlin’s plan, someone should soon be coming to let him know they were past the blockade.

Time continued to pass, and no sounds or warnings came to him. Two possibilities sprung immediately into his thoughts. They might have been intercepted, and Imperial forces could still be on the vessel. The other possibility was that Daedlin had simply pulled one over on him. Given his conversations with the dwarf thus far, he suspected the later.
With either possibility his best course would be to avoid alerting those involved of his plans. The truth was he needed to know more about the situation, discretely. With a grunt, the Sage lowered himself down and began to sit in meditation…