Chapter I

The waves were harsher than he’d expected. Usually Silk moved with a deft precision when making something. He weighed the variables carefully and ensured a high success rate. This time he hadn’t. He’d cut corners. It was a rookie mistake. He was barely twenty steps from the shoreline and the wood was already struggling. Water lapped at his trousers, instantly soaking through the raft. The murky depths below beckoned him downwards. He dipped the oar into the water and kept paddling. The raft moved further away from the shoreline but it wasn’t due to Silk’s efforts, the waves dictated his direction. As a large wave hurtled towards him, Silk held his breath. Did large animals live in the sea? If they did, he hoped he wasn’t far enough out to meet them. It wasn’t a surprise when he was plunged into the cold water. Or when he reached up to reposition himself on his raft and it was little more than floating logs. That was the problem with living in the swampland, the water out there was tame. Bad practice for the real thing. The continuous waves pummelled him further away from the shore. He swam with them. In the moment, the futility of the situation was lost on him. He couldn’t swim the length of the sea. His eyes stung as he tried to catch a glimpse of the island. Saltwater entered his mouth. He couldn’t see the island but he could make out another shape. A boat. He hadn’t noticed anyone else on the shoreline but the coast was wide. Silk’s arms flailed around frantically as he tried to shout over the roar of the waves. People were not his idea of good company but as the muscles in his legs began to seize, he knew he probably couldn’t make it back to the shore. And there was only one island that lay to the west of the mainland, the very island he was trying to get to. He couldn’t see the boat anymore, he had to focus on swimming. Summoning the last of his energy, Silk tried a different tactic, a forward-propelling motion of swimming with his body that imitated that of a fish. He inhaled at the wrong time and felt the water cleanse his sinuses a little too forcefully. He coughed as his wrist struck something hard. Silk grabbed towards the smooth wood.

Two thick pale arms plucked him from the water.

“Hold it steady, Medri”.

Silk was deposited gently onto the floor of the small rowboat where he remained for more than a few breaths. His meagre belongings jutted out of his pockets at odd angles. They were all waterproof but there was no concealing the sharp instruments. Confident that he’d be able to finally speak, Silk sat up shakily to get a proper look at the people that had saved him.

“What kind of madman tries to swim the Iglian?” the pale man asked.

He wore heavily scratched armour that glistened far less than the sweat streaming down his bald head. His stomach was rounded but his arms resembled pillars. Pillars that just saved Silk’s life.

“I had a raft but it fell apart” the words sounded pathetic seeing the pristine rowboat he was sitting in.

“You were going to cross the Iglian on a log raft?” the pale man responded.

“Yes. I had planned to enforce it with hide but animals are in short supply where I come from”.

“Hide?” the other man, Medri he assumed, asked.

He hadn’t been able to see much from where he was positioned but it was impossible to miss the red robe with a white symbol painted onto the breast. A religious follower, presumedly. Medri’s hood was pulled down so low that Silk couldn’t make out much of his appearance.

“Hide aids in buoyancy” Silk coughed.

“You’re a crafter?”.

“A scientist” Silk hugged his legs in the corner of the boat.

The conversation died. Judging by the subtle shifting in their seats and the occasional wringing out of wrists, it was likely hard work. By the time they reached the island, the sky was red with the fast receding sun. The stern of the rowboat hit the edge of the land with a dull thud and the pale man winced. Their boat bobbed gently in the strangely calm water. Silk wondered what they were waiting for until he realised the two men were looking expectantly between him and the rope. Silk struggled shakily to his feet and leapt from the boat.

Looking around, there was no post to tie the boat to. The waterfront was completely deserted of both people and boats. Strange for an island. To his right, there was a crevice in the rocks with a tiny post. It appeared to be more hidden due to the uneven tilt of the land. As Silk pondered how he’d ask them to row further, the two men dismounted. The pale man quickly backed away from the edge of the land. Medri exited with the precision of someone who had been on a boat many times before. Silk’s legs wobbled as they grew accustomed to walking on land again. As he drew closer to the crevice, his nose tingled with the addition of a new scent. Something fresh. He was used to the scent of seawater after smelling it for the past few hours but this was different. A mixture of mud and wood. He tied the boat to the stone post, tugging at his knot to test its sturdiness. He was pleased enough. As he was about to join the two men on the hill, he noticed the origin of the smell. A purple bruise-like patch that seemed to glow in the fading sun. His fingers reached out with the urge to touch it but the probability of that being something that wouldn’t sear his hand off on impact was slim.
His eyes collided with a woman on the other side of the patch. She was dressed in drab colours, with a colourful headwrap that juxtaposed the outfit. Silk offered her a stilted wave. The woman frowned and walked off in the other direction away from the patch. So much for hiding the boat.

*

They picked their way over the mounds of grass and followed the faint cobblestone path like a guide. No one was on lookout ready to intercept them. There were no people milling around. Stretched out in neat rows sat small thatched houses with no windows. They contained holes where glass would be put but were absent of the material. The houses seemed devoid of life, like models of the real thing without the soul. An unfinished prototype.

Gentle laughter wafted out from the only building that was made of a different material. Not stone or brick like the mainland, but something like clay. The pale man clapped his hands together.

“I told you that even a place like this would have a tavern. Put on a friendly smile, Medri” he instructed before turning towards Silk, “and you too. I hope you like talking more than Medri does or this will be a boring evening”.

Silk couldn’t ascertain whether or not Medri altered his expression. His oversized hood still obscured his face. Medri shuffled pastthe pale man and swung open the doors.
There was nothing else to do but follow suit. Everyone from the surrounding area seemed to be inside. Every bar stool was occupied and chatter filled the air. Medri had already picked his way through the mass of bodies and slid into a booth where Silk could see an older man sitting. Silk slunk down into the corner seat and closed his eyes. Taverns were always filled with so many people.

“Alan, I didn’t know your friends would be joining us. Will they be staying long?”.

Silk opened his eyes to see a red-haired woman with an apron on. The tavern owner it seemed. Like Medri, Alan also wore a red robe but his hood rested around his neck.

“Hopefully not” the pale man said, studying the menu on the wall.

Medri released a strange noise from the folds of his cloak but no one else seemed fazed.

The tavern owner let out a hearty laugh, “the island is certainly not for everyone. I wouldn’t recommend it, anyway. What can I get you?”.

It didn’t require much deliberation, everyone seemed to have the same dish. Some sort of pie that was swimming in gravy and a golden-coloured beverage that was
likely ale.

“Four house specials and four ales” the pale man ordered, drawing the same conclusion.

The woman nodded and retreated back towards the kitchen, smiling at the other locals as she went.

“We don’t drink” Medri said flatly.

“Well I do” the pale man responded.

Silk felt that he’d passed the point where it was polite to ask the man’s name but as he hadn’t introduced himself either, he still had an adequate opportunity. Just as he was working up the courage, the food arrived. Silk picked up the accompanying wooden fork and jabbed at the pie before shovelling the contents into his mouth. His tongue screamed at the heat. The filling contained some sort of fish that he probably hadn’t eaten before, but when consumed with a swig of the mediocre ale it was passable, nice even.

“Who is this?” Alan spoke with his mouthful, studying Silk with his hollow eyes.

“A scientist we found splashing around in the Iglian. I wanted to leave him but Blunt decided otherwise”.

Alan’s face, which was caught between being incapable of looking too friendly but smiling at the same time, made the hairs on Silk’s arms stand on end. At least he still had a full mouth of teeth which was better than could be said for most of the older people Silk had come into contact with.

“And what brings you to Anzi?”.

Silk kept his eyes trained on his food, “I need something for an experiment”.

The abrupt movement of a man seated at a nearby table prevented anyone from asking further questions. He stood, spilling his drink in the process and walked purposefully towards the bar. His companion fluidly returned the glass to an upright position but she didn’t seem too concerned by the sudden outburst.

“I assume you come from the mainland?” Silk asked.
Alan chewed the pie ferociously offering a vigorous nod.

“Then why were you on Anzi? How did you get here?” Silk thought back to the boats.

“I came to carry out some research on our neighbours here. I find the eastern side of the island more entertaining but I assumed someone would be here to retrieve me when I didn’t return”.

“And what exactly did happen to your boat?” Medri leered.

Blunt hiccupped in assent. Discarded glasses littered his side of the table. His face had gained a slight redness to it. Silk was only half listening to the conversation. His focus was on the peculiar man. The man retreated from the bar with a piece of chalk and some twine. He bypassed his table and headed outside through the double doors.

“Someone stole it during the night and there’s no mailing service here. I knew you’d jump at the chance to visit the island for yourself anyway”.

“What is he doing?” Silk thought aloud.

“Who?” the robed men said in unison.

“The man with the chalk”.

The man returned and placed the chalk back behind the bar. He nodded to the cheerful tavern owner who tossed him a towel to mop up the spillage he’d made. The twine was no longer in his hand. Silk’s pulse quickened as possibilities ran through his mind. Why would someone want to lock them in? As Medri removed a book from his satchel and began reading whilst Alan flaked pieces of pie onto the table, it was only Blunt that seemed as on edge as Silk.
“Hold on a minute” Blunt wobbled to his feet.

Silk tilted his head slightly to catch the title of Medri’s book but there was none. An ancient leatherbound book. Something from the Royal Library maybe. It was enthralling enough that he’d moved his hood back slightly to see the pages better. At the bar, Blunt gestured widely to the tavern owner. Eyes began to swivel towards the group. If the islanders didn’t have boats, then they probably hadn’t interacted much with those from the mainland.

In an attempt to placate Blunt, the tavern owner offered him another drink which he refused. She gestured back towards their table, clearly eager to prevent Blunt’s booming voice from becoming even more of a spectacle.

Everyone began speculating about who these random visitors were. Most of them knew of Alan but hadn’t spoken to him personally.

By the time the tavern owner managed to wave Blunt back to the table, extra drink in hand, his cheeks were practically ruddy.

“Err, we are to sleep in the tavern” Blunt sat down.

Silk frowned at Alan, “what, why? There are houses all…” the words died on his tongue.

The tavern wasn’t only crowded with people. Everyone had bedding with them. People began to fluff their pillows and envelop themselves in their sheets. Their houses didn’t need design if they weren’t really living in them but then they didn’t really need houses at all.

“Why are we locked in?” Silk asked instead.

“Not locked in, protected” the tavern owner said.

“Wouldn’t you be protected at home?”.

Medri peered over his glasses, “that’s the question you have? Not, protected from what? Because that’s what I’d like to know”.

In truth, Silk mainly wanted to find out where he could buy new clothes as he was certain he’d left a pool of water on the seat but the idea of spending the night in the tavern unnerved him. He hadn’t known what to expect in coming here but this was not it.

The chalk man, who had been eavesdropping the entire time, walked over to their table, “it’s the law of the land set out by the Chieftain. He knows how to keep the island happy”.

Silk looked outside through the open window. It was relatively large but had clay bars across like window panes. He thought he saw a hint of movement heading over the hill they’d arrived near.

“Alan, when did your boat go missing?” Silk squinted. The shadows remained still.

“A couple of weeks ago, maybe. You lose track when you stay here for a while plus who knows when it was actually taken-” Alan rattled on.

“So you don’t know whether it was during the day or at night?” Silk said pointedly.

Hiding the boat in the crevice had been a smart idea, if only he hadn’t been seen. The chalk man clasped his hands together and decided to engage in a conversation with Alan. Silk squeezed past Blunt by standing on the chair and went to seek the tavern owner. He wasn’t getting any answers from his current company. Not good ones anyway.

“Have you heard of Lionare Unymajus?” Silk looked from left to right as he spoke, keeping his voice low.

“Should I have?”.

“Probably not”, it had been a long shot, “do you know of anyone who’s good with plants? A local apothecarist?”.

“On this side of the island? No. If it’s a plant then I’d guess you could find it in the forest lining the Chieftain’s settlement. Straight to the east”.

The tavern owner reached down beneath the desk and pulled out bedding. The sheets were paper thin but judging by the balmy air, that wouldn’t be a problem. The pillows were small but hard, definitely not filled with feathers. Silk bundled the three lots together. He assumed Alan had brought sheets with him though he hadn’t seen any.

“So someone there might be able to help?”.

“Perhaps. They’re more traditional over there. True Anzians they’d call themselves compared to us watered down folk” she stared off into the distance.

“Were they the people who took Alan’s boat?” Silk prompted.

She shrugged, “no one around here would risk being caught outside at night. There are only two other settlements, the Chieftain’s and his brother’s. I’d wager my shoes that it was someone from one of those”.

“How far is the nearest settlement?”.

“Real close. An hour’s walk. Maybe slightly more if Alan’s going with you”.

Silk thanked her and returned to the table where Chalk Man had pulled up a chair. He divided the bedding between them, placing them on the small ledge behind each person’s head.

“Do we sleep in the booth or on the floor?” Blunt asked. It was unlikely that either would make a difference in his current state.

“Either, or. I prefer the floor myself. That way I can sleep next to my wife” Chalk Man nodded.

Whether or not the hint of a smirk tugged at the corner of Medri’s mouth, Silk couldn’t be sure. He didn’t look to be that old from the little Silk could see. Maybe just about of age, but definitely not far from it. Blunt pulled a pouch from somewhere deep within his armour. It landed on the table with a clunk. He handed it to Silk.

“Go and find out how much the food is”.

Silk didn’t like being ordered around but he accepted the pouch and turned to do as he was told. He owed Blunt far more than this for saving him earlier. Alan finally seemed to come to life all of a sudden. He was still eating his pie.

“They don’t charge for food, it’s free” he tried a gnarled smile.

Blunt’s eyes widened, “free? And the ale too?”.

Alan nodded. Blunt let out a jovial laugh and downed the last of his ale.

“Well in that case, I’ll take another ale” he exclaimed.

There was no need for him to go to ask the tavern owner, she could hear him loud and clear from where she was. She gave him a polite nod. Her movements were not as refined as before. It was getting late.

The entire setup was bizarre but considering Silk had planned to camp outside if need be, he was grateful to have somewhere to sleep. In his head, Anzi was a bountiful island full of leaves to forage, not a grassy landscape with no trees. He opted to sleep on the chair as the lead-like pillow seemed like it would leave him with back problems if he dared to try lying on the floor. He attempted to fluff it out, to no avail, before placing it behind him. Candles were lit and Medri read on deep into the night. The arrangement would be better if Silk could change out of his soggy clothes but they’d already given him free food, he’d be asking for too much to receive fresh clothes as well.

“You still didn’t tell us your name” Alan finally put down his fork.

Blunt had finished his latest drink and was ready to fall asleep. Sweat was coming off of him like torrents of rain. The weather was a far cry from the mainland despite the island’s proximity.

“Silk”.

“Silk? What kind of name is that?” Medri put his book down.

Silk smiled a little, he’d heard it all before. That was the name he’d been given. Leaning towards the window with the hot air blowing into his face, Silk attempted to join sleep. It didn’t come for a while so he decided to glance around the room instead. Medri had neglected to remove his hood before falling asleep, his face resting gently on the firm cover of his book. Blunt’s limp body flopped onto Silk’s shoulder. He adjusted, careful not to disturb him but in need of a better position. Somewhere in the dark he thought he heard the sound of trotting but the shadows were exactly where they’d been before. He managed to drift off but not for long. He was sleeping in a room full of strangers on a new island. He couldn’t afford to get too comfortable.