Chương 11: Omnimancer 11: Sagebrush Kiva

Every passing minute clouded Jax's thoughts further, and he was almost convinced that the man who'd given him directions had sent him on a wild goose chase. All he'd asked for was the way to the local inn. Simple enough… or so he'd thought. [Threat Radar]'s endless detections didn't exactly help the situation. While it was useful to know about the lifeforms in the area, it really did show everything, from the tiniest critters to people and everything in between.

And whenever Jax saw yellows and oranges, his brain immediately jumped to danger. Especially since everyone and their mother seemed to leak Lux here. The hell was up with that? The monsters on Luxspire might not have been able to help it, sure, but did these people really not care about conserving their Lux reserves? It was careless and sloppy, and honestly even Jax, foreign as he was to the culture, thought it was a little embarrassing.

Even despite how much Jax had amassed, he'd been paranoid about letting a single drop of it leak out. Either people here didn't know how to stop it—something he found difficult to believe—or they just didn't care. Or maybe not everyone could perceive Lux the way he could. He hadn't considered that.

"Good god, I'm tired," he muttered, rubbing his eyes. After the insanity of the morning, could anyone really blame him? The adrenaline was finally wearing off and Jax was dead on his feet and desperate for a hot shower, a soft bed, and maybe a meal that didn't taste like absolute dogshit. It was all he could think about, and he craved it more than anything. A few of life's simplest luxuries. Was that so much to ask?

Yeah there was the miracle stew that was part of the 'so you don't die' package the teddies had given him, but no way would he sacrifice the magical restorative effects it had for his taste buds. Who knew? Those things could be worth a fortune in this world. What if they were impossible to replace? Instead of food, however, he was greeted by a bear of a man who looked every bit the bouncer.

The man said nothing for a long moment as he gave Jax a thorough lookover, giving Jax the time to appreciate just how much Lux the guy leaked. More than most. Jax felt sorry for him. Such a waste of perfectly good Lux.

"From out of town?" he finally asked with a sigh.

"Er, yeah," Jax replied. He would've thought it obvious. Maybe this was just standard protocol? Like receptionists asking for durations of stay or something? For some reason, the guard perked up at that.

"You wouldn't have seen anything… unusual, would you?" the man asked after glancing around, and this time, there was a definite undertone to his words. Like he was trying not to be overheard. Which was weird coming from a bouncer.

"Can you be more specific?"

"You know," the man said, leaning in.

"I'm talking about the Fallen Emissary." His voice was barely louder than a whisper, looking more than a little spooked.

"Uh, sorry, but no," Jax said with a shake of his head.

"I haven't heard about anything like that." The bouncer let out a long breath and leaned back.

"Good. That's good, then," he said in relief, nodding to the trapdoor behind him.

"Sagebrush Kiva. Donations of all denominations are accepted."

"Er, right. Thanks," Jax replied, noting the way he said it hinted that donations were very much not optional. He was about to assure the guard he'd pay up when the man turned to a rather unclean-looking guy wearing leather armor who'd walked up.

"Sir! How may I help you today!" he said with a level of enthusiasm that made Jax do a double take. He bowed several times and greeted the man with the verbal equivalent to the red carpet. Jax shrugged. Must be someone famous. He turned and climbed down the rickety ladder, entirely unsure of what to expect. With strange voices coming from below, only [Threat Radar] and his magical powers stopped him from turning right around to find someplace else.

Still, he did learn how to get his minimap to show floors above and below him. If nothing else, that, at least, had been a valuable discovery. Jax reached the bottom of the ladder all but convinced he'd been played. What kind of inn hid in a domed chamber carved into the stone beneath the city? What kind of inn was thick with the scent of a burning herb? Sagegrass, if Jax wasn't mistaken, which matched the sign above the trapdoor.

He had to admit, strong as it was, the smell wasn't altogether unpleasant, and the low murmur he heard earlier was actually rhythmic chanting. A half-naked man sat cross-legged in the center of the circular room, tending the fire that burned sagegrass. That alone set off alarms in Jax's head—fires underground were generally bad news—but when he looked up, he noticed a dozen holes carved into the ceiling, and a gentle breeze pulled the smoke upward. No carbon monoxide poisoning today, it seemed.

The man's chanting rose in volume, and he gestured to the ceiling. The smoke took form, and when it touched the dome, it seemed to poke thousands of tiny holes in the ceiling. No, not holes, Jax realized. Those were lights. Thousands of tiny pinpricks of white light decorated the ceiling, and Jax realized he was looking up at a projection of the night sky, painted perfectly with magic on the dome. It was like he was standing in the middle of a planetarium.

The shaman mumbled something, tracing the sky with his fingers, clearly lost in thought. Whatever this was, it clearly wasn't a show meant for him. Jax took in the rather cozy space, noticing how dozen circular tunnels dotted the walls of the chamber, disappearing into shadows beyond. It reminded him of an anthill. A human-sized anthill. A few men moved silently between them, giving the chanting man a wide berth, their feet bare against the stone floor. No one paid Jax the slightest attention.

Not even the chanting shaman. Forget a front desk—this place didn't have anything that looked like a receptionist. He was just about to turn around and climb back up the ladder when he caught someone crawling out of one of the tunnels. Figuring he had nothing to lose, Jax approached the black-haired giant of a man. Standing well over six feet tall, he had a round face and wore a simple white linen shirt and rough leather pants.

Despite his size, there was something disarming about his demeanor that made Jax feel comfortable approaching, despite [Threat Radar] highlighting him in yellow and the commensurate Lux leak wastage that nearly made Jax wince. He nodded in greeting, and the man returned the gesture with a wide smile.

"Hello, friend! How fares your day?"

"Oh, can't complain," Jax replied, caught a little off guard at the warm greeting.

"Say, you wouldn't know where a guy could find a bed around here, would you?" he asked. The dark-haired, dark-eyed man dressed in a simple linen shirt looked at him like he'd just cracked a witty joke.

"They're right there, friend. All around. Take your pick."

"Huh," Jax said, glancing at the tunnels again.

"Okay. Uh… how do I pay? Who do I talk to?" The man let out a light laugh, nodding to a wooden box at the far end of the room.

"Donation box is over there. Food's over there, and there's running water from the land itself. Please, help yourself. The water's fresh and cool." Jax followed the man's gesture to a fountain that spewed water from a carved hawk's head into a stone basin. The rock wall had been carved out nearby and was filled with berries and flatbreads, along with maize, potatoes, and other vegetables, all of them stacked neatly in baskets.

"You're telling me this is all free if I donate?" Jax asked, skeptical.

"How much am I expected to give?"

"Whatever you think is fair, friend," the man replied easily.

"And within your means, of course." Jax blinked.

"Aren't you worried about people stealing?" The man's eyes bulged, as though Jax had asked something shocking.

"And risk the condemnation of the Goddess? Or worse, having their Gifts annulled? What madman would risk that?" Jax almost laughed. I can think of a few smugglers who'd disagree, he thought. The good Goddess clearly wasn't very aware of everything that went on in the city. Which, Jax supposed, was to be expected. No matter how much power Luxor had, she clearly wasn't omniscient. It'd be nigh impossible to ferret out all crime, no matter how powerful she was.

"You're not from around here, are you, friend?" the man asked suddenly. Rather than deny the obvious, Jax just rolled with it.

"Not at all. I come from a far-off land," he replied.

"Ah." The man nodded.

"Be extra careful, then. The altitude here can do strange things to a person's head." Oh, you don't know the half of it, Jax thought, just barely suppressing a smile. The man pointed toward a narrow hallway.

"The stream's through there. There's a sweat lodge, too."

"Sweat lodge?" Jax asked, wondering what that was supposed to be. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

"Yeah! You know, for bathing. I know your surprise, though. I had the same reaction when I heard about it myself. That's rare, even for a Fourteener city, you know?" Fourteener? It wasn't a term Jax had expected to hear in this context, and he wondered if it referred to the peak's altitude. His altimeter confirmed that it was, indeed, around 14, 000 feet in height, but even back on Earth, only mountaineers used that kind of terminology.

"Thanks," he managed to say.

"I might check that out. By the way, I never got your name. I'm Jax." He had to physically fight the urge to extend a hand out to shake. He somehow doubted Wakanya had the same greeting culture as Earth, and he didn't need the guy looking at him any more weirdly than he already was.

"Don't mention it," the man replied cheerfully.

"I am known as Kuruk. I'm heading that way myself. Maybe I'll see you down there?"

"Sure," Jax said, waving vaguely.

"Take your time, friend!" Kuruk laughed, no doubt sensing Jax's unease.

"This is a place of healing and rest. No pressures here." Jax forced a smile.

"Right. Sure." As he watched the man disappear down the connecting hall, Jax wondered if that might've been the weirdest encounter he'd ever had. Everything about this place was strange and alien, and that seemed to apply even to the basics. Jax looked around the circular chamber. The place had more of a temple vibe rather than anything resembling an inn, but maybe Jax was thinking about this all wrong. Back on Earth, he'd heard that monasteries sometimes offered food or shelter to travelers during the Middle Ages.

Sure, there was a donation box, but weren't they supposed to pitch you their faith along the way? Wasn't proselytizing the whole point of places like these? No one here had even asked his name. It did make Jax wonder how there could even be homeless outside with places like these. Or maybe that was what the bouncer at the entrance was screening for? Jax sighed. His brain was far too fried from exhaustion to think about stuff like this.

His eyes landed on the the tantalizing basket full of fruit, but food could wait, and as much as he wanted to sleep, he wanted a shower more, Jax entered the hall Kuruk had disappeared into, walking down its warmly lit walls, courtesy of sconces with some form of magical lighting embedded within. At the end, he found a small antechamber lined with baskets full of clothes and miscellaneous personal belongings. Copper and silver coins just lying there unprotected. People had just…

left their things here, completely unattended. Some baskets had their coins just sitting right on top.

"Seriously?" he asked.

"Nobody steals here?" Maybe the Goddess really did punish thieves after all. Still, he wasn't about to test that theory. He wasn't leaving his stuff lying around for some divine smiter to handle. Glancing around to make sure he was alone, Jax quietly stripped and stored his clothes in his inventory. A moment later, another man walked in on Jax, completely unfazed at his nakedness as he stripped down and headed down another low hall toward the sound of rushing water.

Jax followed but stopped short when he took in the sight before him. He now understood what Kuruk had meant by a 'stream,' and it wasn't the calm bath he'd imagined. Before him stretched a long, rectangular room with a ceiling so low he could touch it. A ceiling chock full of glowing crystals that dripped with moisture onto the smooth, worn stones below. A narrow channel of water flowed rapidly down the entire length of the far wall, its rushing sound echoing off the stone.

And at one end, a conga line of naked, soap-lathered men dived in one at a time, swimming vigorously against the stiff current, scrambling out before they hit the metal grate at the far end. It was only when a door swung open and a man stepped out dripping with sweat, a cloud of steam gushing out behind him, that Jax noticed the wooden building the man had emerged from.

"That," he murmured, eyes glinting with anticipation, "must be the sweat lodge." Saunas were good and hot showers were better, but a steam bath? That was downright decadent. It reminded him a bit of communal Japanese bathhouses. The nakedness was definitely consistent. But that's where the similarities ended. Everything else about this place was strange, alien, and fascinated Jax to no end. Before he knew it, Jax's legs had carried him to the steam room and opened the door.

The blast of humid heat slammed into Jax the moment he entered, and he took in a lungful of scented air. Sagebrush, of course. The space was larger than he'd expected, with rows of stadium-style wooden benches ascending to the back wall. Or, what Jax assumed was the back wall. The steam was so thick he could barely see past his own hands. Men sat cross-legged on the benches, and most had their eyes closed, as if in meditation.

Jax picked out a spot on one of the middle tiers, plopping down and adopting the same cross-legged position as everyone else. He inhaled deeply, feeling the cleansing air enter him, the steam settling around his body like a heavy blanket. His muscles loosened and the tension in his shoulders melted away with each breath. The steam seemed to purge everything—dirt, sweat, and worry—out of him. Even the swirling mess of thoughts that raged in his head went quiet. It was, in a word, bliss.

A real steam bath had always been a luxury, but after over a month without civilization? This was absolute heaven. It was one of the reasons Jax enjoyed mountaineering so much. Things as mundane as functional toilets and comfy beds—things people took for granted—all felt like the wonders that they were after a long climb. The ability to appreciate the small things helped ground him, and, he felt, made him a happier person in life.

The sagebrush scent added a cleansing aspect to the steam, and he couldn't help wondering if each Kiva in this mountain city had its own unique aroma. If so, he wanted to try every damn one. As his body relaxed and he lost track of time, his mind drifted. He thought about everything that had happened since arriving in this strange world—the Luxspire descent, Nimashi the Horned Serpent who thought he was a Water Panther... the village. And all of that was before arriving at Takora.

In the span of a few short hours, he'd stumbled upon a smuggling operation, freed some prisoners, and healed a burned girl whose face was half melted. Something about that last one irked him, though. If a wound like that cost so little nothing to fix, then why had no one healed it? Were healing powers that rare? Or were they only available to the wealthy? Considering human nature, Jax was inclined to lean towards the latter. If that was true, though, how did it fit with the trust he'd seen in these people.

The open food tables and the unguarded coins just didn't add up. Wakanya was a strange, foreign, and often contradictory place… but damn if it wasn't fascinating. He was a fish out of water, sure, but that feeling—the not knowing—it thrilled him more than it had any right to. It scared him too, of course, but only fueled his excitement. There was probably something wrong with his brain. Well, no, there was definitely something wrong with him. Sane people didn't climb Mount Everest in the offseason with no support.

When he finally couldn't take the heat anymore, Jax got to his feet and slowly made his way to the door, his face pink and his body loose. As good as [Apex Heal] felt, there was just something about natural therapy that magic would never be able to touch. Jax walked over to the men near the stream. They used communal soap bars, which, though they smelled incredible, felt a little questionable to him. He shrugged it off and lathered up anyway before joining the queue to jump into the rushing stream.

He tried not to think too hard about where the water went afterward. If all the Kiva's in town drew on the same source… Those entirely warranted worries were pushed from his mind when his turn was up. Looking into the underground stream, Jax was surprised to find Kuruk already in there, waving at him with his ever-present grin.

"Come on, friend! The water's fresh and clean."

"Can't wait," Jax said, grinning back as he dove in. He meant it, too. After the heat of the steam bath, the cold stream felt sublime. The current was stronger than he'd expected, but he dealt with it with ease, thanks to his practiced strokes. His years of swimming back on Earth kicked in, and before long, he was almost managing to beat the stream while everyone else fell behind. It was little wonder—their forms were terrible, and none seemed to know freestyle.

He felt a rush of childish pride as he reached the far end. What he'd expected to be a quick plunge turned into nearly a full minute of swimming before he climbed out, breathing hard and grinning bashfully at the gallery he'd amassed. His new friend clapped him on the back and handed him a towel.

"You swim well, friend! You should compete in the seasonal festival!" Jax rubbed the towel over his hair before working his way down to his body.

"Yeah? When's that?"

"Next moon, I believe. You're lucky—you came just in time."

"Maybe I'll give it a shot," Jax said, wondering if a 'moon' meant a rotation of Wakanya's moon. Considering how his status screen had described the world as a 'mortal plane', however, he really wondered if it was anything close to Earth's, or whether Luxor herself hauled the moon up and down each night like some ancient cultures on Earth believed. Jax chuckled at that. Must be a massive pain in the ass if it were true.

"Good! Just be sure to enter as a Giftless," the man said with a wink.

"Trust me, you don't want to go up against those Bios." Jax frowned in confusion.

"The Biomancers, man. Those oldies will leave you floundering!" Jax thought back to the elderly man he'd seen hauling that massive crate in the smuggler's den. The disconnect seeing someone that old doing that sort of labor still stuck out to him, even now, but Kuruk's words almost made it sound like their age was normal. Expected, even.

"Yeah," he muttered, "I don't doubt that." No way he was going up against anyone like that, friendly competition or not. He still had so many questions, from the Schools of magic to this world's geography to looking at the rather gargantuan list that was his Status Screen, but he'd address those later. Right now, all he wanted was some blissful rest. His energy seemed to evaporate the moment he put his clothes back on, and he stumbled down the hall back to the Kiva, making a beeline for the nearest empty alcove.

Without a second thought, he crawled in. The short tunnel curved to the left, opening into a small domed space, like an igloo but thankfully made of stone and slightly larger. He could sit upright easily, and the amber glow from embedded crystals bathed the room in soft, warm light, making the small space feel far cozier than it had any right to. A reed mattress lined the floor, covered with a woven blanket patterned in animal motifs.

A pillow filled with some delightfully soft material—likely down—waited at its head. Jax crawled under the blanket, and like the tiredest koala ever, he slumped down without another thought. He was out before his head even hit the pillow. The musky scents of spices, sweat, and everything in between filled Hakan's office, nestled deep under the streets of Takora. He knew he should've been mad. Should've been outraged. Yet what he felt instead was excitement.

The thrill of the hunt when the hunter had overwhelming superiority. Of making an example. He'd always enjoyed those the most, and it had been far, far too long since the last one. Hakan stared deeply into the face of the man who stood across from him, utterly oblivious to the dread coursing through the Biomancer's bald head at the moment. No, his mind was far away, on two specific peaks, where this mysterious raider who'd freed those people from the debtors prison must have hailed.

Whoever this guy was, he had some serious balls… or more likely, some serious backing. The Painted Ravens of Skycloud Peak came to mind, but those crow feeders had nothing to gain and everything to lose by starting a war with the Dead Hands. That just left the other guys. Those vermin. The Moonfire Circle stood to gain the most from this slight, true, but sending one man simply wasn't their style. They'd always preferred brasher, more reliable methods. It was what made them such challenging foes, after all.

One never knew when the nightscum might appear with a small army in your home.

"Your orders, sir?" The old man sounded like he was about to wet himself. Hakan wondered how someone so strong bore such little backbone? He'd likely never know. Well, he did suppose the man was addressing the leader of one of the wealthiest and most influential organizations in Takora, after all. What was his name again? Hakan couldn't remember. They went through them so quickly, after all. Regardless, the identity of the intruder's backer mattered little for what was about to come.

On the off chance it was either of the two, the Dead Hands would have to respond in force. They had no choice but to show their vast strength, lest the others think to capitalize on this black mark.

"Send everyone," Hakan said.

"Every free body we have, Gifted or not. The full might of the Dead Hands. I want him found, I want him dead, and I want the world to know." May the Goddess have mercy on his soul, because Hakan certainly wouldn't.