Two TWC Short Stories (Patreon)

Today we have some short fiction set in the Nine Worlds! These will be exclusive to patrons until some time in the future when they'll go into special editions. Specifically, these stories will be placed in between the first, second, and third books.

Unlike conventional short stories, these are very much written as companions to the main series. Not essential, but hopefully enjoyable. ^-^ I intend to write more of these, some connected to the events and places you know, but also some simply filling out other corners of the Nine Worlds.

At this stage the stories are still malleable, so I look forward to everyone's thoughts!

-

Story #1: One Day at the Gate Between Worlds

When they told Mafinde his job was to guard against another world, he had expected it to be more exciting.

It had been thrilling for about one day.

The gate itself was impressive enough. He'd been dozens of villages away from home, for his coming-of-age journey, but he'd never seen anything like it. Strange tree roots grew from the ground, larger than houses and different than any of the plants he knew. Drier, somehow, and alien. Of course, the roots were only the boundary of the gate, which was a hazy wall that led into another world.

His first journey through had been tense. Mafinde had thought the "alien world" would be like very distant villages from traders' stories. He'd never imagined anything like the sand and rock and relentless sun. When the lead Farmguard said their assignment was generally to stay on the other side, Mafinde had been pathetically grateful.

But on the second day, he'd realized that it was just a job like any other. They needed to make sure no one went through and hurt themselves, and there were occasional demon attacks near the gate. It was like guarding the local warehouse, except in this case the warehouse contained another world. Even the inhabitants, strange as they looked, weren't so foreign.

"Demons! Demons coming through!"

Mafinde leapt to his feet, his spear windmilling around him as he prepared for the attack. There was a young man rushing from the gate, one of those who dreamed of being a Farmguard. He tripped on the path as he ran, falling and leaving him vulnerable to the four-legged demon rushing after him.

It took Mafinde a full breath to gather the cantae within his soulhome, then he used it to leap forward as fast as the wind. He thrust his spear forward and it pierced the demon's chest, but that wasn't enough. The monster kept pushing, clawing the ground in blind hatred. It was forcing him back, getting closer to the fallen boy...

Another one of the Farmguards arrived, chopping into the demon's back with a cleaver. Emanra, always a reliable ally. Between the two of them, they managed to cut it down. Several nearby villagers cheered, but Mafinde wasn't satisfied. It had taken two of them to kill one demon, and there could be countless more rushing through.

Or, once he looked up, he saw only a single other first stage demon in the sands.

Mafinde still tugged his spear free and went to face it, because he needed experience. Training bouts in the village were too friendly to be real combat training. He'd already completely drained one of his soulhome chambers, but that left him with enough cantae for the job.

His feet shifted unpleasantly when he hit the sands of the other world. It wasn't enough to stop him: he'd trained on the sands just for this moment. Even if it was taking him months to finish his soulhome chambers, he could at least be prepared for the physical conditions. Mafinde waited this time, letting the demon rush at him before he met it with his spear.

The momentum impaled it through the throat, but that wasn't enough to kill the demon. His spear cracked within its body as it jerked, stabbing it at a new angle. The demon didn't care, scrabbling closer... Mafinde let go of the weapon and pummeled it with his bare hands until it began crumbling into foul ichor.

Once it was finally gone, he was left on his knees in the sand, panting for breath. His knuckles were covered in blood, but he'd been strong enough. He'd spent an entire month's salary on a strongstone from one of the neighboring villages that made his body much more durable. Still not enough to easily fight demons like the stronger Farmguards could. Mafinde longed to buy one of the foundationstones, which were said to be almost Archcrafter-tier, but he'd never been able to pull together enough money on the rare occasions they appeared in the village.

"Looks like it's only two." Emanra stepped through the gate with her cleaver on her shoulder. "Good work."

"Not good enough." Mafinde stared over his bleeding knuckles before he presented them to Emanra for healing. "What if there are more next time?"

"That's not very likely. We've had far more demons than usual ever since those strangers arrived. But the waters of the world haven't been disturbed again, so there will be fewer and fewer."

Her touch quickly healed the cuts on his knuckles into scabs. Emanra was one of the veteran Farmguards at the gate, but she served a supporting role because she had devoted two rooms of her soulhome to a healing technique. Mafinde had considered a healing chamber himself before the complexity of the cantae movements had baffled him.

"I need another enhancement room," he muttered under his breath. "And I'm going to need a new spear. Is the armament seller in town?"

"He should stop by next week," Emanra told him. "What you really need is to work on your secondary soulcrafting. You're losing cantae through cracks, with that shoddy mortar of yours. A lot escaped through the windows during the fight, too... maybe you could use some emberwood for window dressings."

Mafinde listened quietly, knowing she was right even though what he really wanted to was to keep building more chambers. It took so much work to produce sublime mortar and it barely improved his efficiency. What would fighting a little longer matter? If he crafted a fourth chamber, it would instantly improve his store of cantae by a third.

Once she finished with his hands she pulled away and they quickly retreated back to the healthy Tatian air. There was a life to it that was horribly lacking in the desertworld. The other Farmguards and local villagers embraced and thanked them for stopping the demons, which made him feel a little better. He was doing the job his community needed, at least.

Mafinde returned to his place and rolled his broken spear shaft in his hands. He had a friend from his home village who owned an armament produced by an Archcrafter: a beautiful sword made from living wood. An armament like that would never break against simple demons. If Mafinde could just acquire such a treasure, or a foundationstone, or even one of the rumored gloryapples that vastly increased a soulcrafter's strength...

"You could have gone to Myufuru with the others," Emanra said. She leaned against the gate, absentmindedly caressing the strong roots. "Why didn't you?"

"I'm needed here." Mafinde gave the same response he'd given everyone else, but it wasn't true.

When they'd called for promising young Farmguards to join the strangers at Myufuru, he'd been eager at first. But when he'd met some of them along the way, Mafinde had been shaken. They looked more or less like Tatians, just slightly different colors, but he'd seen something in their eyes... there was a brutality there that went against the heart of community. They were far more disturbing than the sandy world just on the other side of the gate.

The village faced threats from all sides. Mafinde began soulcrafting to prepare himself to face them.

~ ~ ~

"There's something strange coming!"

It was one of the younger Farmguards, a woman who had arrived at the gate only a week earlier. Judging from how shocked she looked, Mafinde assumed it was only one of the strange inhabitants of the other world. They were baffling at first, but he'd quickly learned they were villagers of another sort.

"No one told you about them?" He stepped up beside the young woman and stroked her shoulder reassuringly. "Don't worry, they're just like us, despite how they appear. They don't come to the gate very often, but you'll get used to them."

"Why not?" she asked with wide eyes. "Don't they need to guard the gate?"

"They don't eat the way we do, so they don't need anything from us. And of course there won't be trouble coming from our side." Mafinde patted her arm one more time and then left to go see who had arrived.

He'd grown used to seeing people made of rocks after his first several encounters. By now he could easily tell them apart, because each had a distinct pattern of gemstones on their head. Though it was difficult to see through the haze of the gate, he eventually identified the lone person walking through the desert toward them.

"Akedin!" Mafinde embraced the stone man around one of his rocky limbs and then escorted him through the gate. "What brings you here?"

"We wish to trade for further samples." The voice emanated from the air itself, which was just part of Akedin's charm. He still appeared baffled by every embrace but no longer moved away. "The scholars have been using the plants of your world to test sand composition. Unfortunately, many of the tests have been destructive."

"I knew you'd be back. Just wait a minute." Mafinde jogged away from the gate to the communal house where all the Farmguards slept.

There, he carefully unlocked the trunk he kept beneath his bed. He thought using a lock was ridiculous, but the others insisted that a gate could lead people to violate community. Within he kept extra clothing, drawings of his family, and special materials. They included many plants that Akedin would use for the "samples" he always wanted... and also something special. Mafinde had been gathering the best samples of heartoak wood for some time, in anticipation of this day.

As he struggled to gather everything in his arms, he again regretted that his soulhome control was imperfect. He could draw sublime materials in, better than many of the older Farmguards, but they tended to stick there. There was no way to be sure if he could get a material out again, so he still needed the chest. In his wildest dreams he imagined becoming a Ruler and being able to store supplies for an entire village inside his soulhome.

Back at the gate, he saw that many others were attempting to give Akedin food. That was a constant source of confusion and had even caused offense on occasion. Fortunately, it looked like Emanra was already there to explain that people from the other world didn't eat. She glanced toward him with a wry smile, so he grinned back before going to speak to the foreign scholar.

"Will these do?" he asked as he spread out his findings. Akedin began examining them with one of his smaller arms, carefully analyzing every plant for his strange purposes.

"Many of these are suitable," Akedin said. "I have brought a number of items I hope your community will find useful."

"Hey, wait a minute... have you become an Archcrafter?" Mafinde asked it like a question, but it was obvious now that he was looking. "Congratulations on your ascension!"

"Thank you, Mafinde. I see that you have also been soulcrafting."

"That's huge, isn't it? Surely that makes you one the strongest soulcrafters at your school."

"I fear not, and I am not a member of the School of Emerald Indulgence." Akedin settled down on the grass beside him as he spoke. "The distinction may be immaterial to you. But I was apprenticed in a city called Ruby Ericho, which is a difficult journey away. I fear that I must be an Archcrafter simply to make that journey safely."

"Does that mean you won't be coming back here anymore?"

"No, I will likely return for samples in the future. This gate is not widely known, even in the great schools, so your materials will be in high demand."

"Speaking of those..." Mafinde fumbled to lay out the heartoak pieces. "I hope these are payment enough. You do still have it, right? If you're going to be traveling further, I really hope I can buy the gem from you before you leave..."

"It is still in my possession." Akedin reached into his soulhome with shocking ease and retrieved a green gemstone.

The sight of it took Mafinde's breath away. It wasn't an emerald, it was a thousand trees condensed into a crystallized flame of life itself. Almost all the materials he'd seen from the other world were dead, useful only for buildings. But every since Akedin had spoken to him about this "growthgem" Mafinde had been dreaming of taking it into his soulhome.

"If I were driving a hard bargain," Akedin said slowly, "I would not accept this price. Your wood is very unfamiliar to us, and we don't require so much of it. However... given how much you have assisted my ambitions, I will accept this as payment. Perhaps I can trade with them in Ruby Ericho."

"Are you sure?" Mafinde asked. "I wouldn't want to cheat you."

"I am sure. I know I'm betraying my namesake, but I won't drive so hard a bargain."

"Your what?"

Akedin shifted back, gem face staring at him, then he chuckled. "Please excuse my oversight. You would think I would have learned by now... Akedin is a very famous trader on my world. Those who seek knowledge via travel instead of scholarship all look up to him. But he also has a reputation for being ruthless in his bargains, as I will not be."

The strangest part of Akedin's stories wasn't the nature of his world, it was the nature of his communities. Over there it seemed like society extended so far, with reputations being spread across cities and even larger units that Mafinde wasn't sure he really understood. His own world extended to all the nearby villages, as well as Myufuru and a few other cities he'd only heard of. He knew the names of a few local Archcrafters and that a Ruler exited in Myufuru, but everything beyond that was hazy gossip.

In any case, Mafinde thanked Akedin profusely and continued to speak with him so that he wouldn't be offended. And if Akedin really was going away to some other city, it was good to connect now. But truthfully, all Mafinde could think about was the growthgem throbbing in his hand.

When Akedin at last finished all his trading, Mafinde asked Emanra to cover the guarding position and rushed back to the Farmguard home. He settled down on his bed and focused on the growthgem. It wasn't cut sharply, yet it still bit into his hands when he tried to crush it. No matter how he tried, it refused to be absorbed into his soulhome.

Mafinde hadn't failed with a sublime material since he'd been a young adult beginning his soulcrafting. But the fact that the growthgem was a struggle was only partially due to it being a foreign material... it was also immensely powerful. He grinned and gripped it tighter.

~ ~ ~

Another hour passed as Mafinde sat bored at the gate. His new spear wobbled atop his knee where he'd balanced it. Occasionally he entered his soulhome to poke at the growthgem again and marvel at it. There was soulcrafting to be doing, but it was difficult to focus when he was enduring yet another uneventful day of guarding...

Then something loomed in the sky and his day changed all at once.

At first he thought that his eyes had to be tricking him: the acorn flying through the air couldn't possibly be so huge. But as it drew closer he could see people hanging on platforms along the sides. If such a massive acorn existed, that meant that all the tall tales about a giant forest where trees reached the sky must be true. He'd thought those were humorous campfire tales, but apparently the world was far larger than he'd imagined. Even literally.

How the acorn was flying was no puzzle: there was a Ruler burning with cantae carrying the entire thing. Mafinde had never seen a Ruler in person before and he was astonished at the old man's strength. His cantae felt like a living flame that could snuff out Mafinde's strength in an instant.

Wonder turned to shock as the acorn swooped toward them. No chance of it passing by - they could only be coming to the gate. Mafinde stood up and held his spear, even though it was completely useless compared to what he faced. The most he could do was yell at the other Farmguards on duty, who were relaxing around the gate instead of paying attention.

"Who's that?" someone asked. Judging from the strange group on the sides of the acorn, they could only be foreign soulcrafters from Myufuru.

The sight of them completely interrupted Mafinde's intention to reply. He'd rarely seen a set of strangers from so many other worlds. There were two men with pale skin that he'd never seen before, one of them focused on the gate and the other scowling at everything. Near the grim man there was a strikingly beautiful local woman, right alongside the creepiest woman Mafinde had ever seen. She was even paler than the men, with a metal piece covering her eyes and clothes wrapped all around her like she was smothering herself. He shuddered and looked away.

"Excuse us!" The Ruler hopped down from the acorn, landing with no harm done. "We need to travel through your gate to provide medical care to a guest from the world on the other side."

The Ruler continued speaking, but Mafinde barely heard as his attention shifted back to the acorn. There was a sack of what he'd presumed to be rocks... now he understood that they were the body parts of one of the rocky strangers. It immediately made him imagine Akedin, broken into rubble. He couldn't see any of the gems, and the stone was a different shade, but the sight still made him sick to his stomach.

In the end, it seemed like the Ruler from Myufuru was only explaining things as a courtesy. He leapt back up to the acorn and flew it through the gate to vanish into the desert. Mafinde shielded his eyes and watched after them, hoping they could save the broken stranger.

"I guess local healers can't help him." Emanra spoke up from beside him, shaking her head. "None of my healing would be any good with someone made of stone."

"I don't think they can even get sick. I thought they were almost invincible," Mafinde said, "but I guess if demons could destroy stone..."

"Was it a demon? They didn't explain the accident."

Mafinde could only shake his head. All the Farmguards around the gate were eagerly talking about the event, speculating on every possible outcome. Many of them wandered away, leaving the gate less defended. The rumors of this would be shared through the local villages for weeks and it looked like some Farmguards were already sneaking off to be the first to share the gossip.

And just like that, life went back to the boring normal routine. Oh, everyone had new stories to tell, but the event had passed them by.

Though he was still on duty, Mafinde sat down beside one of the heavy roots to consider his soulhome again. All the soulcrafters riding the acorn had seemed so fierce. Even without a good look at their soulhomes, he thought they were a little stronger than him despite being on the same tier. Mafinde couldn't imagine comparing himself to the Ruler, but he hoped to be as strong as the beautiful woman carrying a staff. Or at least strong enough to defend himself against the disturbing pale woman.

Then someone ran through the gate and Mafinde realized that it wasn't over after all.

It was one of the strange men, thankfully not the cruel-looking one. Whoever he was, he wasn't at all disoriented by moving through the gate. Instead he drew on his soulhome and began forming a blade of cantae. It was a remarkably beautiful technique and Mafinde realized too late that it was being swung toward the gate.

Emanra realized the danger before he could move: in a flash she moved to intercept the strange man, blocking his sword with her cleaver. He was pushed back, only briefly annoyed. A cantae boot formed around one of his feet and he kicked out. Even though Emanra managed to block it, the impact sent her flying back into the village.

Before the stranger could strike again, Mafinde finally attacked. Emanra had begun mercifully, treating this stranger like a confused local, so he wouldn't make the same mistake. His spear went directly for his opponent's back... but a plate of cantae armor lit up and deflected the point.

Mafinde didn't even see the blow that struck him, he simply found himself plowing into the grass. It had hurt, but his new growthgem kept him intact. He snapped up his spear, ready to fight to defend the gate... only to see that another stranger had already emerged.

The two foreigners were arguing with one another, saying all kinds of things Mafinde didn't understand. He began moving around to attack the first stranger when his body suddenly felt unbelievably heavy. His knees hit the dirt and he barely avoided stabbing himself with his own spear. Just staying upright was a strain, as if the sky itself was bearing down on him.

It was clearly the new arrival causing it... was he in league with the first stranger? But when Mafinde managed to look up, he saw that the other man was targeting his opponent with some expansive technique. If anything, it seemed like he hadn't even noticed that Mafinde existed.

Both of them were strong. Shockingly strong. Mafinde had thought only Archcrafters could move like that and deploy so many techniques. Before he had time to analyze either of them, the first stranger kicked the second through the gate... and then chopped through one of the heavy roots.

"No!" Suddenly light again, Mafinde leapt to his feet and charged.

A slight turn. A glowing fist. Then darkness.

~ ~ ~

When Mafinde woke, he discovered that it was already over. There were countless conflicting rumors about what had actually happened and none of them fully explained the two strangers who had been fighting one another. Mafinde ignored all of those and instead focused on Emanra, who explained that specialists were coming to restore the gate.

It took them several days and Mafinde remained tense the entire time. He'd thought of the other world as boring, but he realized just how much he would miss the gate. Sometimes, on rainier days, he'd liked to step through and enjoy the blazing white sun. Sandstorms rushed past, only sending a few grains through the gate, creating a strangely beautiful wall. And of course his conversations with Akedin. All of those felt unbelievably precious now that they might be gone forever.

"They say it will be today," Emanra said as she walked up to him. She still had one arm in a sling, but she'd recovered enough to wield her cleaver again.

"How can they fix it so quickly?" Mafinde asked. He'd been watching the villagers as they coaxed the severed roots and still didn't understand what he was seeing. Whatever they were doing, it involved Archcrafters and lots of complex cantae.

"I don't understand it myself, but they say the connection between worlds wasn't destroyed. Only the physical form that... shaped it on this end, I think. If they restore the roots, the gate will be restored."

He nodded in response and kept watching them. It felt strange to stare through the arch and see only the village on the other side instead of the sandy landscape. Emanra lingered close by and it took him some time to realize that she still wanted to speak to him.

"I'm going to be leaving," she said quietly.

"What?" Mafinde finally tore his eyes from the gate to stare at her. "Why? Surely you're not frightened by the attack?"

"No, the Farmguards requested it. Apparently Myufuru suffered in the attack. They need people to help restore it, especially because they still need to escort the strangers home."

"Are you sure that's safe? Are more of them... like whatever that man was?"

"Most are just lost and alone." Emanra sighed and seemed to be struggling over her next words. Before she could find them, they were interrupted by a gasp.

The air within the root arch trembled, then shimmered, then finally burned with white-hot sand. Mafinde breathed a sigh of relief as he saw the other world again. Because of his joy, it took him a while to realize why all the others were so tense, then he saw the group on the other side.

There were strangers standing in the desert with large forms of spiked rocks suitable for combat. They had a few villagers among them, some apparently unconscious and the others struggling. Abruptly Mafinde realized how small-minded he'd been: he hadn't even considered the attack on the other world and how they might react. His heart leapt to his throat as he saw the other Farmguards arming themselves and the rock people tensed.

"Mafinde!" Akedin emerged from the group, raising an arm to greet him.

"Oh, Akedin!" Mafinde stepped forward with a smile, then realized he needed to be more careful. "Can I ask why you're here?"

"We only want to restore your people to you. They desperately need water." He gestured and the rocky warriors began carrying forward the Farmguards.

When they got closer, it was obvious that they hadn't been harmed: they were only suffering from thirst. The tension between sides finally broke and some Farmguards rushed to find water, food, and healers. Mafinde had helped make the connection, but it almost immediately rushed past him. Emanra and other older Farmguards were speaking with the lead strangers, negotiating some new agreement.

That left Mafinde again on the sidelines... again, bored. He was still standing beside Akedin, though, so he embraced the rocky man. This time, as more than a mere acquaintance.

"I'm glad you're alright," he said. "Did they heal the... other man?"

"Yes, he's well." Akedin set a rocky hand down on his shoulder. "Everything is going to change. For a long time, we thought your side was harmless, and you thought ours was barren. No one can return to that state of ignorance, after this disaster."

"Then... what's going to happen? Will they destroy the gate after everyone is through?"

"Some argued for that, but I don't think so. Gates are too rare and precious to be discarded. But we will begin guarding our side, and that will mean we need to cooperate."

"You're including yourself. Does that mean you aren't leaving to the city anymore?"

"Maybe one day, but this just became the liveliest area in the desert." Akedin chuckled and tapped his shoulder again. "So you aren't rid of me so easily. There will be others, scholars and traders and soulcrafters, who will be attempting to negotiate between our worlds. I hope that our relationship will let me keep my edge."

Mafinde nodded and grinned. His world had been turned upside-down, but now he could see a new future for the village. For the first time since he'd begun the boring job of guarding the gate between worlds, he'd have some stories to tell.

-

Story #2: Lessons of a Gate Merchant

Year 6193 of the Gold, Aleph 15

Travels have again taken me away from you, my students, and so I am reduced to writing my lessons in this journal once more. Would that I could have taken you through the gates, but this trip is a difficult one. Not difficult in the sense of mortal dangers, as Tatian is a rather tame world, but difficult due to the familiar obstacles you will find in any society.

This journey will include many lulls, so I hope that I can write a few observations for your edification. My wings are aching more by the year and I fear the day I will not be able to endure the changes in the air between worlds. If everything has been thoroughly written, some of you may be able to continue my routes.

Year 6193 of the Gold, Aleph 17

Tatian is among the more welcoming worlds known to me. It has but a single sun, which renders their nights and days a rather dull affair, but it is a broad and warm presence in the sky. Believe me, you will soon prefer the Tatian sun to the cold light you find on other worlds. Particularly on Deuxan, which will be the subject of a future entry.

I write this while waiting outside the gate between the Lone Mountain and the world of Tatian, so naturally my thoughts turn to gates. Wonders of wonders! Mystical connections spanning worlds! And yet, as with any phenomenon that truly interacts with our humanity instead of lurking in the imagination, it inevitably becomes commonplace. My trading career has been founded on locating regions with gates and tickling a profit from the differences between the sides.

During this extended and meandering career, I have come to believe there are seven different types of gates. Not in the fundamental phenomenon, which is always similar enough, but in their social and mercantile relevance. Allow me to enumerate them for you.

Type the first: Gates with little of value on either side. No one knows why some gates appear in unpopulated areas, but they tend to be ignored, or perhaps guarded in more organized regions. There is only a possibility for profit if you are mobile enough to find civilization on both sides. I urge you: do notsimply fly yourself or hire a craft in the hopes of finding something. The regions are likely empty for a reason.

Type the second: Gates with a population on one side and wasteland on the other. Generally this occurs when the population finds the other side unpleasant or sees nothing of value in the other world. These can be immensely profitable, if only you can find an efficient way to bring trade goods to the wasteland side. This is the case for the city of Nlukoko.

Type the third: Gates where one side has occupied the other. Where there is a power differential, sometimes the population of one world will invade the other and set up a colony. In the short term, these gates can be extremely dangerous. In the long term, if colonization is successful, they become strangely separated cities. In either case, mercantile opportunities are few.

Type the fourth: Hostile gates. When both sides are entrenched, sometimes they make treaties and forbid or limit passage either way. As a young man, I thought the risk of being a sole trader through such gates was worth the reward. Increasingly, I feel this is a path filled with unseen hazards and perils.

Now I set my quill down to continue writing another day.

Year 6193 of the Gold, Aleph 18

I confess, I did not expect to wait so long. I have written the previous entries sentence by sentence in occasional idle moments, yet I still finish before I am permitted to enter Nlukoko. The situation in Tatian has changed since my last visit. Nonetheless, I continue my lesson for your edification, my students.

Gate type the fifth: Mercantile gates. Sometimes the populations on both sides make peace and work with one another. This greatly profits both sides and leads to cities with unusual combinations of species. Usually such gates are already stretched to their limits, so there are no opportunities for new merchants.

(A digression: what are the fundamental limits on a gate? There is not, as some believe, any power expended in the crossing, and a gate cannot be "overloaded" like a poorly-crafted cart. However, there is only so much space for passage, particularly in two directions. Without great organization, both sides will quickly become mired in crowds and confusion. The limits are increased if one or both sides wish to maintain order via customs.)

Type the sixth: Hub cities. "But this is a city, not a gate!" I hear my students cry. First listen to my argumentation. When a location has gates to multiple worlds, it transcends its original category. The central city becomes a crossroads and the locations on the other sides of the gates are transformed into satellite communities, not separate worlds. Regrettably, established merchants have generally already exploited such trade to the fullest and will be hostile to new arrivals.

Type the seventh: Unknown gates. The greatest treasure, of course, is finding a gate that was previously unknown to both sides and be the first to exploit it. But not only is this dangerous, such gates are exceedingly rare due to the mercantile and military advantages that come with them.

Of course, you students are unlikely to uncover even a single one of this types, not unless you can afford to pay an Authority with not one but two weirkeys to introduce you to new regions. Even this is a risk for younger wings, because it would mean leaving your home and establishing a new one. This is why I lay out all that I have learned for you, particularly my routes between------------

Year 6193 of the Gold, Aleph 18

I write this entry with shaking hands. I can barely remember our cipher. Yet it is critical, more than ever before.

The unsightly smear on the manuscript occurred when I was forcibly taken from my chambers. Dragged before Ariano, who is now styling himself "Ariano of the Golden Wings". Farcical! Absurd! He is clearly growing paranoid and obsessive.

My mind races, and my febrile mind wishes to recall the tense interrogation step by step. But if you read this, my students, you already know that I am well. Or perhaps dead, if only this manuscript reaches you. In either case, you are far separated from the great tension I have just experienced. So let me try to calm my mind by reflecting on new lessons.

First: Trade with Ariano is no longer a matter of stable profits. Once I would have written to you of how much he would pay for wine and other luxuries from Noven, but I find myself with only a nominal payment for all my goods.

Second: Gates are the worst imaginable choke-point for trade. Worse than a mountain pass, worse than a storm region. Think of the size of a gate and imagine how many wagons could pass through in a day. Then realize that this is irrelevant! If a government, or a single tyrant, decides to control a gate, then their whims determine everything.

Third: Domains ruled by failed Authorities are a greater risk than I had ever imagined.

Year 6193 of the Gold, Aleph 41

It has been quite some time since I last put quill to parchment. With gate passage to Noven so fraught, I seek to complete all possible trades during my current journey. Nevertheless, I will record a few lessons for my students.

What you must remember about trade between worlds is that the first problem is always information. This does not apply to mercantile gates or hub cities, where the populations have blended. But with other types of gates, you must remember that the inhabitants on both sides are not as worldly as you are. The other side is a strange and alien place to them.

This leads to many opportunities for profit. The most obvious is regarding Noveni gold, so obvious I need not explain it to you.

Manipulating this difference in information is not as simple as it appears, however. It is true that buyers are not aware of the value of a trade good on the other side. However, any merchant worth their gold will be aware of this. They are very likely to overestimatethe value of items from other worlds to avoid being taken advantage of.

This is why trade in sublime materials is often the backbone of gate trade: soulcrafters on either side can intuitively judge the value of such materials, at least to them. The perspicacious among you may have already made the connection: this is also why I insist my students become soulcrafters. Even if you have no interest in soulcrafting - and combat is a horribly perilous affair with little profit - you need to have a strong grounding in sublime materials in order to trade effectively.

Some of you may wonder about the case of a truly naive population with little understanding - again, the common example of Noveni gold being overvalued elsewhere. In my opinion, this is overstated by the folk tales. Your profits will be less than you imagine unless you are truly willing to dominate a region by force of arms, and doing so means that you have entirely left behind mercantile affairs.

Were I ensconced in my library, I would list a number of philosophers for you to pursue, but I find my thoughts increasingly fleeting...

Those of you who hail from parts of Noven that focus on craft will no doubt wonder about the possibility of exploiting a difference in craftsmanship between worlds. This is indeed a potential updraft for great profit: you may be able to acquire goods where you can add substantial value via your labor. However, this takes you further from the pure mercantile arts, and do not underestimate the capacity of the local crafters to uncover your methods and use them along with their superior native knowledge.

Allow me to give an example from my youth. I and a number of other young merchants discovered a gate to the world of Arbai, previously unexplored because the other side was plagued by constant sandstorms capable of shredding wings. With protection, however, we made contact with an Arbaian community interested in trade. Their world is nearly entirely lacking in liquids, so we were able to take their abundant sand and refine it into materials they had never seen before.

A potent opportunity, certainly, and I was unable to pursue it only because my companions acted first and seized the opportunity. When I returned a year later, however, I found them destitute. The Arbaians did not remain surprised by the new methods: they quickly adopted them and, combined with their superior sand collection methods, undercut foreign competition. Another of my old companions attempted to control gate trade from both sides only to find herself choked by tariffs and duties in the controlled region. So even though I at first appeared to be at a disadvantage, I think in the end I came out best.

This digression has gone on much longer than I intended. The slowest but greatest profits are to be found by building trust over time, a quality that has become sorely lacking in Nlukoko.

Year 6193 of the Gold, Bet 3

As I depart from the city of Nlukoko, I find myself reflecting more on the changes in this locale than on lessons I could impart to you, my students. When I began my career, Nlukoko was a wonderful city filled with provincial but charming Tatians. I would have rated its beauty comparable to many a lesser Noveni city. But all but the most concrete of beauties have been lost over time.

Once the locals were grateful for rare Noveni goods, now they are suspicious and withdrawn. I confess, years ago when Ariano began to heavily control the gate, I enjoyed the increased profits. But now I see that his domineering has cast a shadow over the city. Many of the streets are unsafe, crime is rampant, and I must constantly guard against theft.

I have made some profit by unloading my goods, but I have also said farewells to old trading partners. Now I find myself waiting for final approval for the Deuxan gate in the remnants of a district. The Deuxan gate stood in an outskirt of the city that once had an identifiable, if not thriving, Deuxan market. Now it stands apart and the locals are fearful to approach. It seems that Ariano grows ever more jealous of his position and fears a threat from another world.

So now, all I can do is wait for the approval. At some point, guards will-

Ah, there they are now.

Year 6193 of the Gold, Bet 4

A brief entry for brief days. The Deuxan gate is isolated on the Tatian side and completely abandoned on the other, which is troubling to me. It is known by both worlds, yet they seem to have abandoned regular use of it. Perhaps this would be "Type the eighth" if I was still writing my previous lesson.

The world of Deuxan itself, at least, appears to be mostly unchanged. If I had more presence of mind, I could impart many lessons about this world. Anywhere you arrive on Tatian, you can trust certain things will be familiar. But Deuxan's silvery surface hides a great many subtleties. Different courts will show you the same bright hair and bright smiles, yet they hide completely different laws and traps. (There are always traps, you must understand; they merely take different forms.)

Anguedan is one of the less dangerous cities I have seen. They have a completely different sense of honor than you will find on Noven, yet it is contained by laws of dueling.

Ah yes, dueling. These laws vary so much between Deuxan nations, or even cities, that it is difficult to know where to begin. Then again, you are unlikely to visit any cities other than Anguedan, so I should---

My thoughts are fractured. I will pick up my quill another day, after I have completed more business.

Year 6193 of the Gold, Bet 19

Previously I wrote that Deuxan was unchanged. I now see the folly of this statement.

For one, even for those of us concerned with only a corner of a world, to speak of "Deuxan" as a single entity is absurd. My trade here has made it clear that Anguedan is but a cog linked to many wheels, turning in vast conspiracies we will never fully know. Metal-based drugs, which were always a reliable method of trade, have now become controlled substances, but that is the least of the differences.

Due to all the delays in Nlukoko, I have missed the celebration they term a Rainhorn Hunt. It is a remarkable opportunity: the antlers of this sublime beast are an exceptionally potent sublime material. Here, they are rare but not so rare as to be prized, so they are used primarily as a social marker. Acquiring some and selling them in other worlds, however, is a nearly textbook case of arbitrage via gates.

I wanted to write a long lesson on evaluating such opportunities. You must never forget that your profit margins are reduced by travel between worlds and the many unknown risks involved. Rainhorn antlers are an excellent example: acquiring one might be of great value to an individual soulcrafter, but they would not pay enough to justify regular or larger scale trade routes. Generally a staple is required to---

I have spent the past hour simply staring at the page, not finishing the previous sentence. As I said, I wanted to write another lesson for you, my students. But my thoughts are increasingly drawn to the problems I face as I conclude my business in Deuxan.

I told you that Anguedan was unchanged. This is mostly true, yet not. They have new rivalries and conflicts in their courts. One of their noble families has just spent a great deal of money to chase after some fool who offended them. They interrogated me about access to other worlds before realizing I knew nothing, which was more terrifying than Ariano. It was polite, and I was served a truly delicious sweetcake. I estimate that ninety-nine times out of a hundred, they would have left me with a gift. But the hundredth time they could well have poisoned me.

Again, I wander off track. This is another trivial local feud. What worries me is that, in their absence, I feel as though something broader is shifting. Perhaps there is some profit to be found here, if I can determine the nature of the change.

Year 6193 of the Gold, Gimel 12

Fool am I! Fool of fools!

Traveling between worlds, turning a tidy profit, it is so easy to believe that you understand them. Your own world appears a rich tapestry of nations and cultures while the others are caricatures doodled in the margins. The more I uncover here in Deuxan - no, in Anguedan - the more I realize that I have only slid across the surface.

Something stirs in the deep. Deuxan is not a world of petty feuds as I had always thought. Something vast and terrible begins to move, grinding slowly but steadily. Even the locals are unaware of it, just as the lowest Noveni know nothing of the doings of the Great Aracheron. But I see it, not because of any great insight but because I am so distant from their concerns.

Deuxan is more controlled than other worlds. I know this, though I do not know who or how or why. Oh, it has peasants working their farms and nobles fighting their duels and ignorant merchants not so different from me. But there is something deeper and I have become entangled in it despite my best efforts.

I cannot help but make comparisons to the mercantile arts I know. Just as many cities are aware of black markets that exist within, and accept them as a necessary part of commerce, so do great powers accept a degree of freedom underneath them. It is a mistake to view this as defiance when it is in fact nothing but the lubricant in the gears of the system. Control does not mean dictating every single interaction, it means shaping the environment in which those interactions exist.

All of this will be resolved soon. Only one more matter, then I can return to Nlukoko and afterward finally to all of you. This will not be the informative trip I had hoped, but it will be an important lesson in another way. I will write of everything in my next entry.

-

This scroll was found in a Deuxan curiosities market, written in a cipher that resisted soul translation. There are no further entries.