Equimancer's Realm

  “What am I?” Nessa asked.

  “You are Air and Fire, but I’m sure the Kronurians would let you join,” Nocturnia said and explained the basics of abilities to Nessa.

  “So I’d be tolerated, rather than welcome.”

  “Not necessarily. If you showed a passion for science, and contributed to their inventions, you could become an appreciated member.”

  “Can they have families?”

  “It’s possible. They are very free-spirited, they don’t have many rules. They also don’t believe in marriage. They let their people do as they like, but it’s not really a child-friendly environment. They are scouting for Apts all around the World, rather than trying to breed them.

  Imagine the science lab of the Academy being the size of a country; that’s what Jesterland is like,” smiled Nocturnia.

  “That sounds interesting, but I don’t think it’s the right place for me,” Nessa said.

  “What about Roditee? Isn’t it the most beautiful continent in the World?

  They have everything that’s worth living for; pretty people, the latest fashion, best food and drink, the most talented artists and wonderful architecture.”

  “Oh yes, Roditee is exquisite. Their Apts are the most appreciated and celebrated members of the continent. They are all members of the Mesmer’s Guild.”

  “Is everybody aware that they are Apts?”

  “No, no, of course not. They believe that they are people who were born with an exceptional talent. Which again is what Apts are, but not the way Nonapts think.”

  “Nonapts?” Nessa laughed.

  “I think the word is self-explanatory; people who can’t use their abilities,” Nocturnia explained.

  “That sounds as if everybody has them.”

  “That’s right. But in most cases it’s just slumbering and never shows.”

  “But it’s possible to turn anybody into an Apt?”

  “Yes. With a lot of effort, anybody could become a mediocre Apt…

  As far as I know you are not particularly good with instruments, right?” Nocturnia looked at her cousin.

  “I’m basically tone-deaf,” Nessa snorted.

  “Right. So, with a lot of work you could learn to play the violin, but you could never become a virtuoso. It’s the same with our abilities.”

  “Aaaah, makes sense. Anyway, tell me more about the Mesmers. Could I become a member of their guild? It sounds like a very tempting option,” Nessa asked eagerly.

  Nocturnia made a little grimace.

  “Well, if you moved to Roditee, you would have to become a member. They don’t appreciate unregistered Apts. They do like to monitor the competition. Unfortunately, with your abilities you would be almost on the bottom of their hierarchy. The top members are pure Earth and pure Air. In the middle are the Earth-Air Apts, and the rest are the least appreciated.”

  “Oh damn. Why?” Nessa slammed her fist on the table.

  “The Double-Air Mesmers are called Inspirators. All the famous artists go to them to get – surprise, surprise - inspiration from them.

  After a well-placed double-dose of Air, the painters, writers, composers, vintners, chefs and fashion-designers come up with their newest ideas and creations.”

  “So that’s why all that comes from Roditee is so stylish and delicious,” Nessa said.

  “Explains a lot, doesn’t it?

  The pure Earth Mesmers are called Cosmeticians. While they are of course excellent healers, their primary goal is to beautify. Have you ever met Roditeeans?” Nocturnia asked.

  “Yes, a few. They were all so bloody pretty,” Nessa nodded.

  “They weren’t all born like that. The Cosmeticians don’t only smooth wrinkles, but with the ability to rearrange structure, they also correct the flaws of the bodies of their clients. You also have to assume that any Roditeean you meet might be twenty-thirty years older than you would think,” Nocturnia grinned.

  “Don’t you ever use your Earth on yourself? You suspiciously look only a few years older than I do,” Nessa inspected Nocturnia’s face.

  “Pffft. So what if I do? There’s nothing wrong with that. With my single Earth, I can never hope to achieve what the Cosmeticians can,” Nocturnia huffed defensively.

  “Alright, alright, don’t bite my head off. Good to know I can seek you out once I go old and wrinkly,” Nessa laughed.

  “Anyway, the Inspirators and Cosmeticians are incredibly wealthy and sought after. Their waiting lists are as long as the Waterways of the Structure. Their clients have to wait for several months to get an appointment.

  With only having single Air, you could become one of the assistants of an Inspirator, but that’s as far as you could get there. You would have no time to even think of having a family there. Inspirators and Cosmeticians are all divas; their assistants are basically glorified servants.”

  “Great. What about Ermelia?” Nessa sighed.

  “Oh, they would love to have you there.

  Ermelians are mostly Air, Earth and the mix of them. They welcome everybody, especially Water and Fire Apts. They are interested in everything, and are trying to absorb as much knowledge as possible. You would definitely become one of their appreciated Professors.

  They have Universities in every major city that are very similar to our Academy. Their Capital, Sage’s Seat is where all the Apts live.”

  “That sounds quite promising. There must be some Realmers over there.”

  Nocturnia winced.

  “We had some who chose to go there, but most of them came back after a while. They actually came back screaming.

  How to put it nicely? Their idea of fun is very different from ours.

  They have an insatiable need to discuss anything and everything.

  They solve problems by discussing them, they discuss while they work, they spend their free time discussing the matters of the World, and they celebrate by forming celebratory discussion groups. All in all, they talk a lot.

  And I haven’t even mentioned their obsession with health and hygiene.

  It’s the cleanest and healthiest place you’ll ever see. Ermelians – I mean all, without exception – carry around little flasks with some kind of disinfectant fluid. They wipe every surface that they intend to touch with it, they wipe their hands with it after having touched anything.

  They don’t drink alcohol – which shouldn’t concern you at the moment – they don’t eat meat, they don’t use spices, - not even salt or sugar,- they seem to think that dairy products and eggs come out of the bodies of demons, and they disapprove of any kind of physical contact, because it’s so bloody unhygienic.

  They bathe at least three times a day, they go to bed basically in the afternoon…”

  “Which for you is around midnight,” Nessa interrupted.

  “…just to wake you up at the crack of dawn…”

  “Around noon then, according to your sleeping habits,” Nessa chuckled.

  “No, no, around five in the morning, to do a district-wide morning gymnastic session.

  On top of it all – despite the multitude of tall, half-naked, muscular, sun-kissed natives - the only form of intimacy you can hope for, is a one-on-one discussion. They yet have to decide whether to incorporate flirting into their national habits…” Nocturnia suddenly realised she was ranting.

  “Sorry for that. I spent a long – very long, – summer in Ermelia after which I came home, locked myself in my room, stuffed my face with spicy sausages and refused to talk to anybody for a week,” she said with a sheepish smile.

  “I don’t think I have any more questions about Ermelia then,” Nessa decided.

  “Don’t get me wrong; their ideas of equality are unmatched by any other nation, it’s just…”

  “Thanks, I don’t think I would have a bright future there.

  I hardly dare to ask, but what do you know about the Sarean Apts?” Nessa looked at Nocturnia, who tried her best to collect herself after resurfacin
g from the memories she had collected in Ermelia.

  “Not much. Up until recently, we could only rely on the book that was written by the Ermelian Apt, Melius the Deluded, who was stranded on South Sarean shores some three-hundred years ago.

  Many had dismissed it as the imaginary story of a lunatic, but based on the little information we have, it might be true after all.

  Apparently Sareans have tribes. The Southerners value men with pure Fire and most of those become their Warlords.

  The Northerners have Matriarchs; female Apts with mostly Water, but sometimes mixed with Fire.

  According to Melius, the Southerners use female Apts as one of several companions of the Warlords or their leader, the Warchief, mainly to ensure that the abilities will be passed on to the next generations.

  Melius also reported that the Matriarchs tend to trade their Apts for favours with the shamans of their country, unless they are direct descendants.”

  “That’s a no then. Sounds rather scary,” Nessa remarked.

  “Well, I wouldn’t recommend it at the moment. We haven’t established a connection to them so far,” Nocturnia said.

  “That leaves us with Euposia,” Nessa concluded.

  “It does indeed. Even though we are not in touch with the Eastern Euposian Apts any longer, I can guarantee you that they would welcome you with open arms.

  There you could have as many children as you wanted. Or more.

  The country is run by Apts; the Clerics. Their head is the Archcleric, the Representative of the Creator on Earth.

  They don’t care what kind of an Apt you are. You would have to move to a cloister and become the vessel for the male Apts…”

  “A vessel?” Nessa stopped Nocturnia mid-sentence.

  “Yes, a bloody vessel. You would be expected to have as many children with their male Apts, as possible. They believe in breeding Apts, and brainwashing them from a very early age on.

  Of course, you would have to renounce any God that you believe in, before taking up holy orders.

  You also would have to accept that men are superior to women, and that the only natural love is the one that exists between a man and a woman.

  They make sure that anybody who disagrees will be ‘reoriented’.

  There’s another reason why they would love to have an Air Apt like you there; between pregnancies you could erase memories and lock minds,” Nocturnia stated in outrage.

  “That sounds horrible. So they don’t believe in the Preacher any longer?” Nessa said, apparently sharing her cousin’s sentiments.

  “They have managed to merge the Preacher with the Creator during the last two decades. They hold synods every year…”

  “What’s a synod?” Nessa interrupted.

  “It’s when all the bigwigs of the churches gather and decide which way religion should go, and how to re-write the Book of Gods,” Nocturnia explained.

  “They are re-writing the holiest book of the World?” Nessa gasped.

  “Of course they are. You can’t just let people run wild, and decide for themselves what to believe. According to them.”

  Nessa shook her head in disapproval.

  “Fine. Eastern Euposia is out of the question then. What about the Westerners?”

  “They are a really loveable folk with hardly any rules or regulations.

  They live in villages at the beaches, rivers or lakes of the continent. Their Apts are mostly Water based Mystics, tending to the Nonapts’ emotional woes and problems, making sure they are happy and in tune with nature.”

  “Again, not much demand for a Fire-Air Apt like myself,” Nessa stated.

  “I wouldn’t say that, but it’s hard to imagine a big-city girl like you finding your happiness in a fishing village that consists of a hundred huts at most.

  Unless you really developed a liking for a drink-till-you-drop lifestyle. Which I hope you won’t,” Nocturnia cocked her eyebrow at Nessa.

  “So these are my options; a crazy inventor, a diva’s assistant, a health-obsessed Professor, the lover of a Warlord, the vessel of a zealot or a drunken villager. Have I left out anything?” she looked at Nocturnia.

  Nocturnia sighed.

  “Come on, out with it; there’s something else,” Nessa said seeing her cousin’s mind.

  “Fine. There is. As I said, the Western Euposians don’t have many laws. That’s probably why the country has a hub for the Apts, who don’t want to join any of the regulated groups of the World. There is a place for renegade Apts. It’s a collection of people with our abilities who are either too ambitious or too individual to conform to any laws. Even though they are our kind, they regard us their enemies. We don’t know much about them, and to be honest, I wouldn’t want to deal with them.”

  “They sound like a bunch of outlaws,” Nessa remarked.

  “That’s exactly what they are. Our Professor Ledonius Goldmane is currently visiting all the Apts of the continents and keeps sending back reports. He says that the Mystics are having problems with the renegades. Apparently, the leader of the outlaws calls himself a Baron, and is trying to get more and more people under his control by supplying them with an incredible amount of alcohol. Unfortunately, Euposians are quite fond of induced happiness… Eh, you don’t need to worry about those things at the moment,” Nocturnia concluded.

  “Quite a lot to digest. They are all so different,” Nessa said.

  “Yes, they are, but in one thing all Apts agree. To never reveal to the Nonapts what we are capable of.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because on every single continent our kind had to learn one fact the hard way; most people don’t like the ones who are different. Most fear the unknown, and it’s very hard to like what or who you are afraid of,” Nocturnia shrugged.

  “Listen. You don’t have to decide now; you have time till your eighteenth birthday to make up your mind. You should travel and meet the Apts around the World. I will write to them and you will be welcome to visit,” she suggested to Nessa.

  “Did you do that before you went through the Archway? Before you had decided that you would become an Equimancer rather than an Empress?”

  Nocturnia thought for a few moments.

  “No, but that doesn’t mean anything. We are different,” she said.

  “So why did you do it?”

  “Because I have always believed in everything that the Equimancers stand for, even before I had known about their existence. I hate people who don’t listen to their conscience, I hate intolerance and discrimination, and I do believe that Balance stands above everything else. I also believe with all my heart that Equilibrium and Equality are one of the first principles that the Creator had in Its mind, when It had made all this around us possible.

  When I found out that I could be one of the ones who are willing to fight for this, I had no doubts in my mind that this was what I had always wanted. And yes, I know, as an Equimancer I shouldn’t hate anybody, but none of us are perfect,” Nocturnia breathed out.

  “Wow. That was quite a speech. So, to cut a long story short; a normal life is very much out of the question,” Nessa summarised.

  “Eh, normal is overrated and relative. Believe me, once you get used to your Apts, you wouldn’t swap them for anything in the World. Before I let you go, I have to tell you about our community.”

  “Of course. All you have told me so far was that I can’t have a family, which doesn’t sound too appealing,” Nessa frowned.

  “Oh, but you will have a family. One that consists of tens of thousands of members. My task is to give you objective advice, but one thing I can’t do; not loving the place I belong to,” Nessa saw a spark ignite in Nocturnia’s eyes.

  “We have members from all over the World coming to join us. Mainly the likes of you and me; mixed Apts.

  But that’s not the main reason why I feel passionate about being an Equimancer... and living beyond the Archway. It’s being part of… something… which is unparalleled by an
ything in the World.

  I have travelled a lot; I have spent a summer in the Jesterland labs, I’ve been the temporary assistant of a Roditeean Cosmetician, I had a rather nebulous summer amongst the Mystics of Western Euposia – that I don’t really remember - , I have fled from the Eastern Euposian Clerics and of course, I had been chatted into oblivion by the Ermelians. It all happened after I had become an Equimancer of the Realm.

  All my experiences confirmed that I had made the right choice.

  I know that the price it comes at, might seem very high, but all I can say for myself – that might not be valid for you, – that nothing else in the World compares to the safety and happiness that Equimancers experience in their home that lies beyond the Archway.

  Nevertheless, think about it and let me know which communities of Apts you wish to visit before you decide,” Nocturnia smiled encouragingly at Nessa.

  “I think I have to think for a while,” Nessa said.

  “Yes, you should. It’s a decision you make for a lifetime.”

  Fegilovíxit, Areshadia

  “Chafo níx?” Texe asked, as Maister Louis Coleman-Bitter, the leader of the Kronurians in Areshadia, got out of bed.

  He smiled. No matter where in the World you went, women would always ask their favourite question, as many times as possible; ‘Where you going?’

  He had asked the Warchief for a short meeting. To his horror, Readbeard chose to meet him in one of the bath halls of the Tomb.

  Since Fegilovíxit had become a modern city, public sexual activities were banned above ground.

  In the Tombs however, everybody did as they liked. The underground halls were used as an accommodation for tribe members and visiting guests who preferred traditional Sarean housings, as bath halls and as a place of pleasure.

  Texe, Louis’ mistress and Areshadian language teacher, had not yet succeeded to persuade him to join other couples in the Tomb.

  He was a Kronurian; even after so many years on the continent, he preferred to do certain things with one person only, and in the privacy of his bedroom. Although he couldn’t deny that Sarean culture had rubbed off on him.