Freedom and the Path (and a Dragon)

The Law:

1. Freedom of action for everyone. This contradiction supports a wide array of beliefs and customs within communities while keeping conduct on the Path restricted only to these Laws.

2. Traveler's Courtesy is basic respect and kindness towards others. Warriors and other travelers keep the Path clear, so it's good luck to support them and treat them well and good luck for travelers to follow local custom while visiting.

3. Energy that exists in every living thing can be detected and controlled, depending on the natural capacity of the user and their effort toward learning how. Expanding energy through focus is the Warrior's Might, the basis for Warrior techniques and natural gifts. Using energy (doing anything) according to the Law is good luck, adding positive energy to the cycle, making it easier to tap into.

4. Warriors have the authority to uphold these laws as they quest, the duty to save lives where possible, and the honor of competing for glorious victory in the Tournament.

Part 1. Departure from Ice Island

Wind whipped across the Pool Sea and waves battered the sail ferry, open hatched for loading despite warning lights that shone from the tower near the center of Ice Island. Tnia watched frowning as the blocks disappeared inside, the storm approaching from the south was a looming threat that gave her a cold pit in her sailor's belly. She tried again.

"I don't think we should set out tonight. The winds..."

"Stop saying that," Usol said. His looking down on her was literal and figurative, with six inches of additional height and in robes decorated by patterns of cut gems that gave him the bearing of royalty. "I've sailed in higher winds than these. I suppose you never have. Have you even made this trip before?"

Usol had already attacked her over her lack of experience, and after fighting for the assignment she couldn't just stand down. Yet the fact was, no, she'd never sailed in winds this high, or with a bank of roiling clouds threatening to roll over. "An experienced ferry captain can identify unsafe conditions like these..."

"Experienced?" Usol scoffed. "How many times have you soloed this crossing?"

"F-" she almost said 'five' but her test journey, while unassisted, had technically not been solo. "Four."

"Fuh-four," he agreed. "You've only been living on this coast a year! No one should be letting an immigrant like you..."

Tnia ground her teeth, narrowing her eyes as he insulted the guild of ferrymen for their hiring practices and rushed training. His grandfather, a respected Island elder, spoke of a time when they had higher standards. Of course, Usol used ten thousand words to say it just like his grandpa would, blaming travelers that bypassed sensible regulations about learned skills and apprenticeship time by 'flashing their tits around.'

Tnia flushed angry red, moving her hands from her hips to cross her arms over her chest. She wore a standard ferryman uniform, buttoned to the collar and covering to her elbows and past her knees, not the hunting outfit of her hometown sisters, but the drabness of her wardrobe failed to mask her shape among those who looked for it. Unlike most men, Usol seemed to find her appearance a source of derision.

"I did my apprenticeship," she assured him through clenched teeth. "I passed every qualifying test. Accepting skills from all over means they can select the very best, and the Master Ferryman says my fundamental skills are exemplary."

"Oh right. You really think it's your skills in sailing that impress Bari so much?" He glanced over, smirking at her for being flustered. Everyone knew the guild leader's reputation for chasing any rabbit that hopped through the door. "The Ferrymen have a code, don't they? If a ship can sail, the cargo will get through. This breeze is barely anything, and if you can't sail in this, you should stop this charade of calling yourself a ferryman. I'm sure Bari enjoys your other skills more anyway."

Tnia wanted so badly to slap him, with an even more dangerous old Mazon instinct springing up, she found herself overcompensating. "If you say the weather will hold off..."

"I can't predict the weather," he snapped. "Even that old man in the tower can't predict the weather, only sense changes and make assumptions."

"His assumptions are based on patterns," Tnia said. "Using patterns to make guesses are what predictions are, Usol!"

He waved a hand. Superior by breeding rather than deed, she hated all these Icemakers at times, but Usol had never given her a chance to stop. He was almost as bad as his father and gave every indication that it's what he was going for. "The wind could blow harder, or the wind could stop. I need to make this delivery, so prepare to sail or find someone who can."

Tnia lowered her head, motioning to the vessel as dock workers sealed the loading hatch. At least she would be hard to sink; the bottom-heavy loading would keep the boat from capsizing, as long as it was in one piece. Thinking like that, Tnia knew she was making a mistake, but with pride in her chosen craft stinging and feeling the burden of prejudice she always worked extra hard to shake, Tnia hardened her resolve. This was the kind of run that could bring a captain accolades, if she pulled it off. "If the ship can sail, I'll get you through."

"Good," he said, leaning more with the wind as he started down the dock. He glanced back to make sure she followed, or to avoid the visible apprehension of dock workers they passed. "This wind will shorten the trip, you'll see."

Tnia hopped aboard, wondering if the arrogant man knew what he was talking about, but she had confidence enough she could find land again; this was the central island in a vast archipelago, with lots of other land in every direction.

The anchor lines were tied tight for stability, pulled even tighter by the pounding waves. Tnia needed to focus her Might into the Strength technique to free the loop at the bow, and the rope bucked in her hands, burning the skin of her palms as it slid out. The dock anchor at stern creaked and moaned as she made her way toward it and slackened with a tug so they could drift out, but the surging waters coming off the cove made that impossible. They were swept out instead, set in a spin off a hard bump.

Hopping to helm, Tnia took rudder control and summoned more Might, focusing this time into the Weapon technique to extend her energy into the wide wooden rudder for more strength and control. As she set the compass to course and straightened their bearings, she reached for the first sail release.

Unfurling with a roar, the sail filled and pushed them forward on the strong southernly wind. Tnia sculpted the air with the triangle of cloth to get more speed from it, splitting her focus according to her training to control the sail. Elated by their acceleration, she glanced at her passenger and the huge bank of dark cloud behind him, now obscuring the southern half of the island in rain. She swallowed sudden apprehension. "I hope you're right about this."

"I am," he said. Though little older than she was, he stood like a grizzled captain with his back to the battering wind and trim beard jutting. She supposed years spent on the coast were just worth more. "I've taken this crossing dozens of times." He winced when he glanced back. "You might want to go faster, though."

"Uh huh," she said, rolling her eyes to the sea ahead. Her gaze went next up the aft mast, twisting slightly in the tormenting gusts. She released the lower mainsail, freeing it slowly to maintain control and easing into what the ferrymen of these two-masted boats called second gear (of six). As she satisfied herself with the stability of that, skating the top of the turbulent sea, she felt the first scattered raindrops upon her neck and her hatred of her demanding passenger grow.

Rain fell to the deck behind her in a drumming warning and had her soaked and shivering a moment later. The wheel bucked in her hands and the rudder demanded still more power to keep it stable against surging water. As the shroud of rainfall passed over, she lost sight of the horizon, of everything but grey and wet apart from the intermittent terrifying spectacle of lightning.

She kept her eyes on the compass instead, but even that guiding needle swayed as swells beneath the ferry pitched her. Holding tight both to keep control of the craft and solid on her feet, she chanted an angry mantra of, "You idiot, you fucking idiot," as she fought for further focus and Might against her surging foe.

"You must be talking to yourself," Usol said, huddling next to her and gritting his teeth against the bitter horizontal rain. "You're going to get us killed, what kind of captain goes to sea with a storm like this approaching?"

"That's not fucking funny," she said.

"I'm not joking. I was testing you, to see if you'd stand up for yourself..."

Tnia scoffed. "No, you weren't, you liar! You wanted to finish the delivery despite the risk so your father would pat you on the head!"

Usol glared at her. She didn't know the man terribly well, having enough reason from their limited contact not to pursue any more, but she knew his father was a harsh and authoritarian leader on Ice Island and that Usol cowered like everyone else. "You just didn't want the refusal on your record, so you could go on patting Bari's 'head'."

Tnia snorted. "Fuck you, okay?"

"How many wives has that old letch had now?"

"Wives? I don't know, he lives on an island with no marriages."

"Yeah, he moved there right after you arrived."

"Another wife dumping his pervy ass wasn't because of anything I did," she said, trying to keep her temper and failing rather badly at it. "It's none of your fucking business anyway and has nothing to do with my ability to sail a ferry!"

"Sure, it's just that gorgeous foreign women with great tits always have the best intrinsic talents for it."

Tnia may have slapped him for real, had her hands not been fully engaged in her fight with the sea. She glanced at the compass, wincing as she noted the needle and their northeastward trajectory. "You really think Bari made me a captain just because of my tits, and you still pushed me into this storm?" she said, struggling to crank the sail in against the force of the tempest. "You're dumber than I thought."

"I'd be happy to reassess once I see some competent captaining."

Tnia ground her teeth. "It's hard to focus with you flapping your stupid beard hole! Go below if you don't have anything constructive to add!"

"Your first good idea," he said. Releasing the bulkhead, he took a step just as a gust and accompanying swell shoved them across wind. The tortured main mast creaking past its tolerances, it came apart with a great crack and fell in chunks.

Usol screamed as he tipped and stumbled, appeared to be struck by rigging as the sail whipped down, and went overboard.

"Gods damn it!" Tnia cried. She ducked the swinging boom as the stupid man's floating body drifted over the nearest swell and heaved the wheel to follow. All the power she could supply wasn't enough to save the rudder, snapped aside by a cresting wave.

Cursing again, and again, and again, she grabbed a sea-pack, mostly filled with buoyant material but strapped with a few basic tools. She shouldered the straps and wrapped a line around her fist as she leapt off after the last glimpse of him. She swam that way and spotted him thrashing among the ripples, air trapped in his elaborate robes acting as a life preserver for now. Kicking harder after him, she reached the end of the rope as she crested a wave, the idiot Icemaker stuck in a storm eddy and being swept out to sea. Calling out to him, she accomplished nothing but wasting her breath. She took another in a gasp when she saw him pushed below the turbulent surface by a crest of white foam.

Cursing herself as much as him, Tnia released the line to pursue him beneath the water. She dove using all the power she could gather, surging into her muscles in the Warrior's Strength technique a little too fast. The immediate aching burn told her how sore she would be if she survived until tomorrow, but she pushed through it, speeding toward him through grey water. She caught his hand and hauled him up, splashing over the buoy-like satchel, he coughed seawater and wiped it from his eyes only to get replaced by rivulets of rain.

"Thank you," Usol said, still gasping. "You were an idiot to jump off after me, let alone without a line, but thank you. I wouldn't have done that for you."

"I know," she said.

"You should be a Warrior, diving into danger like that to save my life."

"Heh." Panting, she smoothed stray hair from her eyes over the rest, arranged into eight interconnected braids in a common island style. "I appreciate the sentiment, but it's not quite saved yet."

"If we survive, though. Imagine the glorious quest of Teeny-ah."

She might enjoy a conversation about the Sacred Trials and the possibilities of glorious questing, but she was too annoyed by the mangling of her name, which she had to assume was intentional at this point. "No. It's a blend. I told you a dozen fucking times. T'nee-ah."

"Maybe tell your ancestors to get a naming tradition that makes sense."

"Sure, will do," Tnia said in her most sarcastic voice.

Usol gave her a minute or five of nothing but driving rain, a blessed relief. "So, you'll take a Medallion if I bestow it?" he asked.

"Bestow it?" She chortled. "You just want me to leave."

Usol looked down, floating lower in the water. "You are brave, though. And strong. And you're going to get fired, anyway, for losing the shipment. Have you ever wanted to quest?"

"I've been kind of questing since I was seventeen," she said. "Until I stopped here, I never lived anywhere for long."

Usol scoffed. "You wander around for five years and think that qualifies you to take a ferry into waters like this?!"

"I swear to the goddess, Usol, I will shove you off this thing."

"Pfft," he said, wrapping his arm in the strap. "Which goddess?"

"All of them. You know what, gods, too. I'm not going to discriminate over this."

Usol sneered, gripping the handle strap to bring his shoulders above the water, pushing the pack beneath. "The first time the promise was made by a Mazon."

Tnia ground her teeth to keep her temper best she could. "You sound like a real fucking winner right now, using fucking stereotypes to tell me how prejudiced I must be. Let's just float here and pray for a swift and merciful death. Swift for you, merciful for me."

Usol snorted with an attempt at haughty, but his cream, maroon and gold robes impeded the movement he needed to tread water. Both he and the buoy worked harder against the waterlogged weight of the heavy layers as more air escaped, coming up as bubbles around his neck. He looked at her panicked as he dipped further into the roiling water.

"You know what you have to do here," she said.

"I am not removing my vestments!"

"Then let go, so your stupidity doesn't drag me down with you."

Looking into the water, he slipped his hand over the pattern of large, heavy jewels across his chest. "These vestments are a sacred relic of my clan, and my father would kill me anyway if I lost them."

Tnia chuckled, but he didn't. He glanced up scowling, and it made her laugh harder. "Don't be stupid. He values your life more than your clothes, no matter how old or sacred they are."

"What about my dignity?"

"I'm reasonably sure he won't notice that's missing; he's not even here."

Usol lifted his chin above the water, spitting some out. "What about you?"

"Oh, don't worry about me, I never noticed it in the first place."

Even struggling against the weight of his fully saturated robes, he took the time to sneer at her. "I forgot you're a Mazon, you probably haven't heard of it."

"Bullshit," Tnia said. "You never forget that. Maybe you could explain your problem with Mazons, before you sink under the weight of your own dignity?"

Usol unclipped the high collar, which was fully submerged. "If you want to see me naked that badly..."

"Whatever you need to tell yourself," she said, rolling her eyes away. She couldn't see the boat, or any land. Surrounded by choppy waves and rain, gripping a single safety pack with a man she hated taking his clothes off close on the other side of it, she tried to think of a way this could get worse. She wanted to be prepared.

The silence this time thanks to his embarrassment, so shedding his clothes might be worth it, was much longer. The storm raged and they rode up and down the crests of waves. Tnia looked around best she could as they went over, searching for land, but visibility couldn't have been a couple dozen feet.

"What do we do now?" Usol said.

"Well, I don't know, Usol, what do you want to do?"

"What can we do?" he asked, voice high and helpless.

"Not much," she admitted with a shrug. "Hang on until the storm ends and hope we wash up somewhere we can stand."

"You... don't seem that worried," he said. He was floating lower than before, though he'd left at least one layer of cloth around him, neck bent, forehead resting on the pack. "Have you ever been in a situation like this?"

"Not exactly like this. I've been in worse. It never does much good to worry."

"How could this get worse?" said Usol. His voice went up in an emotional break that Tnia tried not to roll her eyes at. "We're going to die out here!"

"There are so many ways it could be worse!" she said, laughing in the face of danger. "To point out the obvious, imagine falling in the ocean way down south. The temperature alone could kill us in minutes. These tropical waters are rough, but it's like a really agitated bath."

"What good would Icemakers be in a place with natural ice?" he asked. "I'm not going anywhere near the poles."

"Okay, how about predators? Lots of big, voracious predators in the Pool Sea that could make things a lot worse!"

He looked around to ensure she hadn't just summoned any. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing, I'm just saying that there's no point wishing or worrying about things getting worse or better, you have to take what you get and make it better yourself." Tnia frowned at the top of his head, unable to make out what he was muttering. "When you follow the Path, you learn to roll with punches and laugh at the ones that whiff you."

"So your time on the Path fucked your head up?"

"Just like your life never leaving Daddy's shadow fucked your head up." Tnia sighed, regretting bringing it up when she saw his reaction. "I know you're stressed right now..."

"You don't know anything," he said, voice so cold she worried it could take to the water and freeze. "You lost the shipment. You've killed yourself, and there's no saving me."

Tnia shook her head, trying to tell herself it was just the pressure getting to him, but she wasn't sure she'd ever seen him not cracking under pressure. Even in the normal day to day dock hustle, he couldn't seem to take it when things didn't go perfectly, which was most of the time. She couldn't think of a person she'd like to be marooned with less.

"Listen Usol, we're not dead. We'll wash up on some island, and three quarters of them have at least a fishing camp on it. We'll be fine."

"Washing up without my vestments and shipment isn't any better than washing up on shore dead," he said, chilliness giving way in an emotional break. "My father... he's going to kill me."

"No, he's not."

Usol took a shuddering breath. "Okay, he won't kill me, he'll just pass me up for leadership of the clan and give it to Osef."

"He was going to do that, anyway, wasn't he?" Tnia asked, and he looked up from his arms. "Everyone says he's grooming your little brother for the chair."