What The Fireleaves Danced

"Legends within their country speak of the mighty 'Bakonawa'. A seemingly malevolent deity who ate one of the eight moons, and thus explains why the moon disappears at times. To us, we call this the No-Light Night, where Yavum turns his face away to rest his providence."

-Savant Ariolo ib Shari, 1003rd Year of Yavum's Slumber

When Andrado awoke, he saw only a wooden ceiling and a dark-haired, brown-skinned wench looking over him. Her eyes were large and full and dark, her nose small and pretty, albeit a bit too bulbous for his taste. Her b.r.e.a.s.ts strained against the white tunic that she wore.

Andrado thought that he was in Empyrea, alongside the cloud of witnesses, of seraphic beauties and immaculate philosophers. He blinked, expecting to see Yavum Himself, awake, non-slumbering, and speaking freely once again with his subjects and believers.

When he opened his eyes, he was disappointed.

The girl met eyes with Andrado, and then she turned and walked away. She shouted something in a language he wasn't entirely sure of -- was that Liwayan? -- and Andrado resisted the urge to call her back, to stay and be her dark-eyed piece of Empyrea for a few more seconds.

It was dark. The only source of light came from a bright lamp, fire burning within a steel frame. He watched shadows from outside dance against the ceiling, before he heard a wooden door creak open and in walked a familiar dark-haired, brown-skinned man.

"Hoy there, friend," he said, once again in that admittedly impressive Al-Kaigian. He turned to the girl and said something in Liwayan, and she nodded and walked out the door. He turned around to Andrado and chuckled. "You should not try drinks that you cannot stomach. Or, at least, you should have tried to eat something first. Lambanog is a strong thing."

Andrado winced. He felt hurt, somehow. He, an Al-Kaigian man, so specifically trumped by this lowland barbarian native when it came to an alcoholic beverage.

Of course, he would be more used to his own barbarian cuisine and beverages. Yes, definitely. Andrado grinned. "I guess you are right. I will heed this admittedly common sense suggestion."

The bartender shrugged. "Bright man, I am Tayandogan. You may call me Tay. I will keep you here in this tavern room for another night, but afterwards you must pay a gold piece."

His eyes opened wide at the mention of a gold piece. Andrado began to protest, but then immediately realized that he wasn't in Al-Kaig anymore. Over here, in the archipelago continent of Lakungdula, gold was in abundance, and they used it almost daily for transactions.

"Tayandogan? You do not have a Yavuman name?"

"Tayan de Silva," said Tayandogan. "But I do not prefer that name. So just call me Tay."

A shadow of suspicion fled across Andrado's face, his eyes squinting, and his lips thinning. Then, he said: "Very well."

He realized that one gold piece wasn't a fair price, comparing their respective economies. "I shall pay you five gold pieces for not robbing me in my reverie."

Tayandogan chuckled and nodded. His teeth were very white. "Very well. I shall take it. There is a key on the table. Have a good rest, bright man." And with that, Tayandogan turned around and closed the door behind him, leaving Andrado alone.

He sighed. So much for trying lambanog out. What a potent drink. He looked down, and he realized that he more than wanted that large-b.r.e.a.s.ted, brown-skin injo to share his bed.

He shook it off. Maybe he can ask that of the bartender later, if this was that kind of tavern. No. No it's not. What he better ask for is a cold bath. He closed his eyes and buried his head into the pillow.

In the silence, Andrado found that he couldn't sleep. He moved his head around, groaning, and saw a wooden desk near a closed wood window. On that desk was another lamp, although this one was unlit.

He could use this time to write down on his journal, or maybe even to read up on the fifth chapter of that Jeremian book. He'd studied it back in his hometown, one of his majors alongside historical sciences. The Art of the Esoteries was a very obscure one -- daresay, even heretical -- and he'd only managed to get into the Jeremian Order by virtue of heritage and wealth, both from his father. Now he carried with him a sorcerous implement – that direwood rod – although brandishing it around without a Mago-Divine Baptism and an official license would only bring the Civil Guard -- and the Imperial Inquest -- crashing down his doorstep.

After one final groan, Andrado pushed himself off of the bed. Feeling light-headed, he walked over to the wooden windows and pushed them open, letting in a wafting, cool, sea breeze. He inhaled, closing his eyes, and when he exhaled and opened them, he saw the crescent of the moon.

Feeling a little better, he lit the fire of the lamp on top of the desk and walked over to his leather satchel, which was beside the door, which he locked as well. He poured the contents of the leather satchel onto the wooden desk, to see if anything had been stolen: his set of ink and quill were thankfully still there, as were his copies of The Chronicles of Light and The Esoteries of Luminance. The leatherbound notebook he used as a journal and the gnarled, direwood wand, roughly the length of his forearm, along with some gold pieces, tumbled out of the satchel.

Andrado arranged all of them, pouring the gold coins back into the leather satchel. Then, putting on his optics, he opened the Chronicle to a random page and read from a verse, which spoke of how Yavum's watchful eye sees All from Above, from the specks of dust that they were to intimate souls that were linked to his flame.

The Chronicles were an interesting piece of book – it had been written from Divine Inspiration by a vast array of authors, which sought to detail the beginning of Cosmos itself until the far end. And when they had finished it, Yavum fell into a deep sleep, beginning the Era of Yavum's Slumber.

Nevertheless, he joined the ranks of his fellow savants in making sure the Chronicle's teachings were not unheeded, and maybe they might be able to unearth some kind of esoteric divination from within.

With this done, Andrado closed the book and uttered a small prayer of thanks. He slid the tome to one side of the table, and he flipped his journal open.

I write once again, about my journeys to the land of the Fireleaves.

I have met with a fellow Al-Kaigian, Syrus de Santi. Why he is here, I do not know. He would not disclose that information, and when I finally did push him to, he quickly would avert it, deflecting my attacks, parrying it with his sword tongue. I pray for his safety, despite his aversion to worshiping Yavum.

There are a great many different men here in Selorong. All of them interesting, all of them human. I have yet to see a demihuman yet, or an engkanto. Perhaps the stories of humans living alongside engkanto are only confined to the Indigo Metropolis. I shall make haste there after my work here is done.

I tried a piece of lambanog, today. I'd rather not recount the experience. Well it's more of a 'I cannot' more than an 'I would not'. Make of that what you will. What you must.

Tonight, I cannot sleep. I wonder if they sell or make coffee here. I will endeavor to find out as I read deeper into Jerem's Esoteries of Luminance. I suspect my knowledge of the higher mysteries will soon deepen. Knowledge is power, after all.

To whomever may read this.

Andrado ended the book with a flourish, and then he set the quill beside the inkwell, stoppered that, and finally pushed aside the journal.

Sighing, the savant leaned back onto his chair and breathed in the humid, temperate air of the night.

He realized that he could use a quick smoke. Do they even sell tobacco around these parts? Andrado watched the shadows dance across the rooftop, noticing the intermittent flickering of his candle as the sea breeze wafted in. At least that was a welcome change from the too hot or too cold weather of Al-Kaig.

Andrado still lingered on the thought on calling for a woman to share the night with. That injo girl seemed especially luscious. Would thirty gold pieces be enough for her, I wonder?

Ah, no, Yavum curse me. He shook his head. I should get some coffee and focus on training my rituals.

The Al-Kaigian man rose to his feet, stretched, and then headed down to Tayandogan, locking the door behind him as he left.

As he arrived at the first floor, he was greeted with an appreciable atmosphere. It was like walking through a dark brown curtain, and into a starless coffee filled night.

Small torches still blazed, as in the day, albeit at a lower luminance than before. Their halogen hue lit up the darkness to a comfortable level -- bright enough to safely traverse through, yet dim enough to set a mood perfect for drinking coffee at the darkest hours of the night.

He thought that he should've brought the Esoteries of Luminance with him, but decided against it. Reading such a crudely printed book in this lighting would only worsen his vision, and he already wore optics. Besides, he did not want to risk anyone seeing such an apocryphal piece of literature on his possession.

There were only a few more patrons within, and all the mugs of beers seemed to have been replaced by cups of coffee. Even the smell of beer had been somehow wafted away by the coffee. At this sudden change, Andrado almost concluded that it couldn't have been any less than a work of wizardry.

With a discreet flourish of his hand, he closed his eyes and invoked a Minor Clause. "Merak Isu-Fidem," he uttered, the keyword for invoking the Minor Clause of the Esoteries Contract, which hummed like a low, unimposing bass. He felt his mind throb once as he invoked upon the Merak of Secrets, Isu-Fidem.

A supernatural sense lingered for a split second in an invisible wide arc in front of him.

Nothing.

Andrado opened his eyes, and his mind throbbed once. He inhaled, and then turned around, striding to the counter.

Sitting behind the counter was the first, dark-skinned man -- Tayandogan. Beside him was a tall girl with similar skin as he, and somehow taller than he was. Andrado found that he still towered over both of them.

"Are you looking alright there?" asked Tay, leaning over the counter and raising an eyebrow. His smirk was insufferable. "The lambanog still getting you?"

Andrado shook his head, managing to smirk back. "It did not hurt me, no. But I've to admit that it had a strong potency to it."

Tayandogan grinned. The girl behind the counter -- which was not the girl that he had awoken to, yet somehow still looked like her, only thinner and taller; Andrado assumed it was the sister -- said something in their language, which was indeed Liwayan. Andrado couldn't quite pick it up, for he hadn't studied Liwayan, but rather, Tabunian. He did notice similar words here and there, denoting some sort of similarity between languages.

Tay turned around and answered her in whispering Liwayan, and then shook his head. "She is Damaya, my youngest." When Damaya heard Tayandogan speak her name, she scowled, stood up, and walked away, into the kitchen behind the counter. "Forgive her. She is a bit shy."

Andrado grinned, and then uttered a silent prayer once again Yavum to help keep him holy and clean.

Andrado inhaled and nodded. "A coffee, please. Quickly."

"Quickly," said Tayandogan, nodding, and he turned around to his ingredients. "Would you like it strong?"

"Yes. Very much so. Only to cover my weakness." He felt like his hands shriveled up. This must've been the consequence of spurting out an invocation after being affected by some sort of mind-confusing substance. The Jeremian teachings echoed in the back of his head: "Invocations of the Divine Contracts are like a mental arithmetic exercise -- try doing it early in the morning, right when you wake up, and you're likely to mess up and only hurt yourself."

What an apt comparison, Andrado thought to himself as he wiped his hands. Do they even have baths here? Surely they do, being the current capital colony city.

The smell of freshly brewed, hot coffee whisked his thoughts away from baths and wrapped around him. He opened his eyes, and a thud against the wooden bartop pulled his attention down to the mug of coffee sitting in front of him. "Half a piece, sir."

"Add it to my room total," said Andrado, grinning as he grabbed the mug by its handle and sipping. The scalding hot of the local coffee was welcome. It almost burned away the strange, fuzzy feeling he felt after the effects of the lambanog –- which, he found, was only compounded by

Then came the strong, bitter sweetness of the coffee. Delicious coffee aroma and substance, like the panacea of the gods, blessed his tongue and coursing down his throat, urging him to close his eyes. He inhaled and let the coffee settle before he opened his eyes and said, "Very nice! What brew is this? What beans have you used?"

Tayandogan grinned at that. "The beans are from the plateau city of Kafagaway."

"Kafagaway?" Andrado raised an eyebrow as he sipped again.

"It is in the northern island of Tabun, Bright Man," he said. "Near the southern realms of it. A good place, but it gets cold, and many storms ravage the land."

"Interesting. So the bean from which this coffee is brewed from comes from there?" He scowled when he found that he was almost three-fourths of the way through the beverage.

"Yes, sir," said Tay. "I have a brother that lives there and constantly trades in Selorong, and I always get my supply from him."

"Ah. Very nice." The wash of the warm coffee seemed to sharpen and clear up his senses a bit.

Now with a clearer mind, Andrado realized that there had been some bard or singer on the platform beside the bartop. He did not look Al-Kaigian either, but Lakungdulan, with his caramel skin and dark hair, and with a lack of body hair of which Andrado could notice for he only wore a vest that bared his c.h.e.s.t.

He was singing something not in Al-Kaigian, but in Liwayan. This intrigued Andrado. He raised an eyebrow and turned to Tayandogan. "He is singing in Liwayan?"

Tay nodded. "Yes. As you might've realized by now, there are not a lot of Al-Kaigian during this time. It is the time of the Masked Moon -- the masked moon Halea."

"Ah," said Andrado, in sudden enlightenment. "So the Al-Kaigian are sleeping already, are they not?"

Tayandogan grinned. "Indeed. They –"

"They fear a night without a moon. A night without light is a night without their god of light." Andrado finished. He too, followed the No-light Nights as a night to go to sleep. The only ones that would patrol the streets of Phaedrus were the Gloomwalkers, who were fugitives and caught deserters or murderers trained to deal with the darkness of a No-Light Night."

"I do not know why you are scared," said Tay, as he picked up the cup and cleaned it. Andrado hadn't even realized he had finished it. "The Masked Moon that is Halea is the moon that protects. It is where Halea stares down upon the world, weapons poised, to protect her twin brother Bu-an. She is a fierce warrior Goddess, and fights the great ocean serpent Bakonawa to prevent her from stealing Bu-an and eating him, for Bu-an is the last of the Bright Moons."

Andrado blinked. "That's very interesting. Tell me more." He leaned forward, almost like a curious child.

Tay grinned. "I saw your pack had books within. Would you not like to write this down?"

"Ah, right, yes, of course!" Andrado rose to his feet, somewhat chagrined that he hadn't thought of that himself. "I will be right back."

Andrado hurried up to his room, and unlocked the door once again with the key. When he walked in, there was a sound. Reminiscent somehow of a whisper.

He looked up and saw a shadow reaching up to snuff out the light of his lamp.

"Oi!" The shadow fidgeted and turned to Andrado.

A split second passed.

The shadow moved. Bringing with it Andrado's leather satchel, it vaulted out of the window, and plunged down two storeys.

"Thief!" Andrado's words bubbled up his throat as he ran after the infiltrator, leaning out of the window and then peering down, so much so that he almost tipped over and fell. The Shadow disappeared into the No-Light Night, vanishing into the umbral tendrils. Yavum curse it all in His Sleep!

He turned to his table and lit the lamp with a snap of his finger – f.o.r.c.i.b.l.y calling upon a Minor Contract of the Merak Urudem, Merak of Flame and War. As the flame threw light and illumination onto the table, he realized -- like a slap to his face – that all of his gold pieces, his books (except for the fresh, blank-paged journal) and even his gnarled direwood wand had been stolen away, whisked off into that Shadow of the No-Light Night.

Tayandogan appeared by the doorframe a second later, looking like he had run a marathon. "I heard your cry. I've sent out a few friends to chase after the thief. Follow me, quickly!"

They stepped out into cobblestone street. The rolling cries of the waves of the Meriganian sang to his right. Tayandogan turned to the left and ran up the cobblestone path, illuminated by torches within glass frames. Andrado followed suit.

He heard shouts in Liwayan, and Andrado could only assume that those were the "friends" Tay had talked about chasing the thief. They cut into a dark, dank alleyway, and he had to hurdle over a puddle, following Tay as he came out into another lamp-lit cobblestone street. Andrado's heart and lungs beat against his c.h.e.s.t as he ran after Tayandogan, who -- despite his small frame -- seemed to run only faster.

Soon they arrived at a small town circle. Andrado slowed to a halt, and heaved heavy breaths, clutching his knees. Tayandogan did not let up: he followed more of the Liwayan shouts to the center of the circle. When Andrado had caught his breath, he ran after the tireless barkeep again.

In the middle of the town circle was a peculiar sight. Three burly men, each of them looking like they were dockhands -- with vests that did not cover at all their well-built physiques, dark skin, and dark hair -- stood around the shadow that had thieved him his precious artifacts. Tayandogan sighed, and walked up to the kid. Andrado followed behind him.

He was just a kid, after all. A dark-skinned kid, with a bramble of curly hair on top of his head and white teeth. He wore almost nothing, except for a sash wrapped around his waist. He stared at all of them, eyes like daggers. Something was off about that bramble of hair on top of his head, Andrado realized. Two strangely large strands of hair stood up, making it look as if the boy had horns.

The three men said something in Liwayan, and the kid answered back, his voice loud and raised to a shout, his eyebrows in a furious arc down. His movements were erratic.

Another word in Liwayan, and one of Tay's friends lunged to grab the leather bag from the kid. The kid was quick, vaulting over the man, and then grabbed his necklace.

A brilliant, coruscating starlight that coursed through him, and unraveled him. In a matter of seconds, Andrado had to look away because of the intense brightness. The back of Andrado's head throbbed.

"Yavum above!" screamed Tayandogan, and he performed the star gesture across his c.h.e.s.t as a symbol to ward off evil. Andrado followed similarly, starring himself across his head, his chin, and his c.h.e.s.t.

When he looked back, the boy was gone, and in his stead, as if the residue of the truth that he had been there, was dissipating diamond dust. Sorcery. A bend in reality. Then as he looked around, Andrado thought, Yavum curse it all! He brought the bag with him!

"Apologies, bright man," said Tayandogan to his right. He turned to his friends and said something in a kindly tone, and his friends walked up to Tayandogan. One of them tsked, rubbing his temples, and then shrugged after saying something in Liwayan, his tone indicating some sort of tiredness.

Tayandogan told them something, and they nodded. They said their goodbyes and left. The dark brown bartender watched them vanish into the shadows of the lamplight, before turning to Andrado. "Once again, I apologize, sir. That thief… I haven't had a thief in my quarters for quite some time."

Andrado inhaled, trying his best not to go out on an outburst, a tirade on how important those books were, how the Chronicles of Light helped him through his day, and his copy of Esoteries of Luminance had belonged to his father, and how his sorcery becomes much harder without some sort of focus to visualize his power.

Instead, he exhaled. No good in explaining something even Al-Kaigians don't know of.

"It is okay." Andrado sighed, looking about the area. "Do you have any idea where he might have come from? I… I really do need the items he stole back."

"Oh, sir…" Tayandogan stood silent for a while. The two of them stood silent for a while, light-skinned and dark-skinned, both looking like shadows against the dim lamplight of the No-Light Night. And then, "He looked similar to someone I know. That one lives in a barangay to the Southeast of Liway. Datu Alamayo's, if I remembered correctly. You will be able to find him there… Just, please, I beg you under the watchful gaze of Masked Halea -- spare them your wrath."

Andrado blinked. "I will."

Tay nodded. "Thank you."

The two of them walked back to the tavern. As they arrived, Andrado immediately went up to his room, locking it behind him. Despite his love of the cool, salty breeze that the sea brought in, he closed the windows of his room, shutting it tight.

With another sigh he fell onto his bed. He had turned off one lamp, leaving his room illuminated with a low orange hue. He watched the shadows play on the walls of his room, thinking about the strange sorcery that the thief had summoned. He surely should research upon that, it felt like some sort of magic, albeit not of the one that searched and probed the higher mysteries, for certain.

Andrado found himself slipping into the shores of sleep as he thought of what he was going to say to the Governor-General the next day to let him go to Datu Amalayo's barangay. He thought that it should be easy, seeing as study of the natives was one of the main reasons why he was even here in the first place.

Without his reading materials and his direwood wand, he felt lonely and alone and n.a.k.e.d, as if he were a kid again wandering through a world without his parents.