Aphr reached the gathering point of the Battalion of Northern Amazons. Sendra was there with Elane. They stood up and greeted her. Sendra, as usual, wore a pair of tight breeches made of calf leather. Aphr thought she probably made them herself, as she was the most skilled leatherworker in the Battalion. Her bronze-coloured hair were tied up in a Slayer’s Gordian Knot, signifying that she was just straight out of a Rider’s Race. Aphr hugged them. They were both taller and bigger than her, but that was easy: Aphr was from the Southern Seas: she had the typical petite frame that made her agile and fast with knives and swords. They spoke of war for quite some time. Aphr gave them the details of her trip with the Five Adopted Daughters of Doom. Kerrax, Madieu, Sophia-Rosa, Naomia and Despinea. Each one of them stood by her side in their first battle with bravery. It was a joy seeing Kerrax and Sophia-Rosa stand out. The former with double-edged axe and the latter with her trusted claymore that had a soul of its own. Even the unruly and fiery Madieu made it with her spiked mace. Naomia and Despinea were glorious in battle as well. These two have grown blessed with the grey eyes of the Great Goddess. They were ruthless in battle yet gentle in their diplomatic affairs. All and all, Aphr was happy with her apprentices.
Elane, as always, asked for the emotional details of the union with the Daughters of Doom. Although a distinguished member of the Northern Amazons, she carried the tender dichotomies of her race. Logical, insightful and empathetic, although loud in battle and brave. She was wearing a pair of shiny cavalry boots that were covered in mud and snow. She was eager to talk about the Amazons’ plans altogether. Her strawberry-coloured hair glowed like a wreath above her hair when she laid out their new scheme. Their new alliances were up in the Norrfjords but they wanted to expand in the Southern Seas. There were quite happy to see Aphr coming back from the Darkeeahn’s land in one piece. But they had to talk war so they remained professional and serious. Aphr was slightly off-topic. After war she normally indulged into the simple pleasures of life. Magical vinejus was quite what she needed at the moment. She was more than eager to find out her tasks for their celebratory gathering Full Moon gathering with mixed warriors from the Norrfjords.
Elane, naturally sociable, briefed her on the subject matter, while Sendra became silent and went away towards the stables. ‘This is somewhat a more civilised way to start our evening’, said the red-haired rider. ‘We will stay inside my indoor garden and have a nice dinner, fit for queens! Then we will head towards the dark end of the night and hopefully your trickster will be there. Then you can ask him about the secret of the Golden Globe’. Aphr’s face turned beetroot red. She could feel her heart throbbing. Elane smiled and looked at her friend with warmth and compassion. ‘Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ve seen worse beasts among the Darkeeahn’s’. They giggled a little. ‘You will be just fine’.
Aphr sighed. She looked at her strawberry-haired rider comrade . She has been advised by the entire Battalion of Northern Amazons what to do. She was more than aware of the tales surrounding the mysterious Norrlfjords man. She had two encounters with the ‘trickster’ already. She recalled the last time he saw him, getting out of her fortress with a smile on his face. They spend the night together duelling under the moonlight. There were as many smiles and eager stares as snowfakes. She played dirty and tricked him and he was fully aware of that. Once duelling was over, he took his sophisticated Froststrider out of her fortress and his trusted hounds followed, floating above the ship as they were setting off. She greeted him in her language that sounded like a mash of vowels in his ears and left. He was smiling on his ride home. Aphr had to go on a trip straight after to the capital of the Wetlands, but it was impossible to get his smile out of her mind. With these thoughts, Aphr panicked. She didn’t like loosing control. And there she was, daydreaming during an important battle meeting. Most of the plans the Amazons laid out slipped through from one ear to another. She couldn’t concentrate, and that annoyed her.
‘Listen’, Aphr, spoke over the tall women, as if she was waking up from a dream. This is too much information. Let’s have some food and then we will talk, alright? Elane laughed and took out of her backpack a golden-yellow cake. It was fragrant and made out of crocus pistils and spices. ‘Here’ she said. ‘This will keep you full for a while until we get to feast’. Aphr scoffed the cake down and felt better. She briefed them on her coming-up trip to the sanctuary of Priestess Ioli to relax and talk things over. The tall female warriors nodded. Aphr gathered her 3 swords and showed them to her friends one by one. ‘Listen ladies, this is how it works with these babies. If you want to hack and slash the enemy, you need a cutglass’. She went on talking, explaining all about steel, mechanically.The day went on and the sun set early, a typical Norrfjords glorious sky, leaving a rosy glow in the horizon. The three women went inside the small room that was attached to the stables. They feasted on soured cabbage and hex meat. The Amazons drunk mead made of fermented crystallised honey, Aphr drunk vinejus from her flask. She had to take it easy and plan her journey bit by bit as it was long. The morning after she greeted her tall friends and went off to her journey.
Between the Southern Seas and Norrfjords, there is the Vast Isle of Neverending Autumns. Its mild, wet climate always smelled familiar to Aphr. There, in the capital of Wetlands, inside the big gates of the wet metropolis, Aphr’s priestess friend duelled. All her armour and party garments were transferred to the sanctuary prior to her arrival. Ioli was occasionally riding, but she was not an official part of the Batallion. She was a lady of the Southern Seas, like Aphr, who chose the path of a Fire Priestess rather than the Ways of a Warrior. She was excellently trained in being a general and a leader. They had sworn Sisterhood to each other when they were both young apprentices. And like all oaths that indicate family relations, this was the most important among females of their kind. Ioli opened the door of the sanctuary wearing a while robe and a pomegranate-coloured shawl. She was barefoot. The two women hugged tight. Then held hands and walked towards the gates.
Ioli and Aphr did not say a word throughout their walk. They went through gates and arches and reached a tall ivory tower. Ioli took a set of heavy, bronze keys out of her garment’s pockets and opened the front door. They walked in a snake-like stair case for approximately 15 minutes. On the top of the tower there was Ioli’s sanctuary. They did not talk at all, because their brains communicated in a silent, extraordinary way. Ioli held Aphr’s hand and patted her hair. They smiled at each other and read each other’s mind. Aphr asked for the priestess’ valuable advise. Ioli lit a path of fire and walked over the charcoal, chanting. She was silent, but her eyes were reflecting the flames on the ground. Aphr has seen this happening before. It always sent shivers down her spine. The priestess then kneeled and conjured sweet, fragrant vinejus. The crystal –clear glass floated its way to the curly haired warrior dressed in black soft leather. They drunk it and Ioli spoke in verses:
The warrior you seek
Trickster is named,
He’s in battle fit
He’s the keeper of the Golden Globe
And seeks the company
of the deep white dunes of snow
Remote from the world,
His feelings rarely show…
Then, Ioli stopped suddenly, refusing to say any further, falling deeply into a trance. Aphr, sighed and waited for a few minutes. Her friends’ eyes were tired, her eyelids were almost closed. Suddently, she opened them up and inhaled deeply. Then spoke in prose, fast. ‘The Great Goddess will watch over you. Be strong in your encounter with him. And mostly, be prepared for the impossible. He keeps the Globe inside a hole in the ice, which they call ‘vak’ up in the Norrfjords. If he is capable of jumping in to save it, he will be more than eager to bring it under your nose so you can inspect it. You just have to win his trust. In order to do so, prior to the trip though you have to go to the Swashbuckler’s Isles and retrieve some Secret Mojo. Make him drink it. Then duel him. He will be then surprised at first, but once he sees your skill in battle, will trust you more.’ Aphr was a little scared but tried not to show it. She asked her friend with eager eyes what the strange man is doing now. Ioli’s eyes went all white. The iris rolled back, behind her eyelids. She kept on chanting:
The trickster’s name is Jkkeh.
He calls himself a loner
His heart is warm
When he indulges
Into games of speed and trial
He errors on occasion, but then learns quickly.
This is the man you seek
He holds the Secrets of the Globe.
Ioli said no more. Aphr knew what to do. She had to go to the Swashbuckler’s Isles to get the mojo. Then she had to go back to the Norrfjords and find the man.
She calculated things in her head. The trip to the Norrfjords would take another five days. In the meantime, Ioli’s slaves came. They all looked like her. They all wore white. What made them different from their mistress was the lack of a pomegranate-coloured shawl. Aphr felt a little confused. ‘Do not worry’ Ioli’s voice echoed in Aphr’s mind. ‘They are just apparitions. They will prepare a rosebud scented bath for you so you can relax and get ready for your journey’. Aphr sighed, again. She inhaled air, the Norrfjord way of agreeing. Ioli smiled and finally spoke: ‘Aha. Then you are adopting the Norrfjord ways, fast, young lady’. They giggled like young maidens, while the slaves were stripping Aphr of her dark leather breeches and knee-high boots for her bath.
A few days have passed in the quietness of the sanctuary when Aphr decided it was the right time to retrieve the powerful Mojo. Ioli greeted her with gifts: a purple warm yet light blanket and some food for the road, stuffed courgette flowers with fragrant rice. The two women hugged with affection and Aphr set off. She took the boat of the west coast of the Wetlands to the far southwest: the Swashbuckler’s Isles. The crew of the boat was dark haired, like Aphr. They had long dreads, adorned with silver beams, typical of the Isles; skin bronzed by the strong sun. Aphr smiled at them as she walked up the temporary wooden stairs to the deck, and they smiled back. They were generally friendly to her, yet again, like all sailors they were not to be trusted. Aphr has never been to that part of the World yet. She knew of the trade between her people and the Swashians, as they called themselves. Tales of mischief and trickery. The Swashians were cunning, quick and deceitful in every Southern Seas’ mind. There were a lot of folk tales shared between the two lands. Tales of exchange and humour, signifying a kind of mild hatred and perhaps admiration between the nations. Aphr always thought that these tales were urban myths. Southerners thought that Swashians were pirates as opposed to them being clean-cut straight-forward sailors and traders. She always thought this to be one side of the same coin. In her mind, there were good and bad people in every culture across the World.
The journey was long and for a approximately a dozen of hours all they could see was the sea. The grandeur of the deep blue surrounded them. The sun was glowing up in the sky and then turned into a deep orange sunset. As they were going south, the weather went milder and set. Aphr stayed for a lot of hours on the deck. She hated long boat trips as they made her sick. ‘What a shame’, she thought. ‘given that most of my relatives are pirates. She had family in the Swashbuckler’s Isles. A long lost uncle of her mother. Last time she saw him, she was a young child. Uncle Demeh had a life of hardsmanship sailing with the Southern Navy, but he fell in love abroad and stayed there. ‘Maybe he can help me get some of the Mojo’ she thought. Then I can get the Northern Warlord Jkkeh to spit out all he knows about the globe. In her mind, she skimmed through his skill in battle, his sabre-like green stare and long hair swaying with the wind. ‘Shit’ she thought. ‘I feel like a smitten kitten, totally out of control; this is plain wrong’.
As it was getting dark on the deck she thought suitable to find a corner and get some rest. She wrapped herself with the purple blanket and fell into a deep sleep. She dreamt of snowflakes in a faraway land where the sun was a vast memory during the winter months. The night was cold but her friends’ blanket kept her warm. As they travelled towards the south through the night the climate changed. In the warmth of the big hard sun she dreamt of herself swimming in a warm lake. It was a peaceful dream until her long lost friend and companion in battle, Adonis showed up. At the lake’s bay, he was kneeling, all dressed in white, as if he was praying. His hair, dark curls like hers, was glowing in the warm sun, as if he was the sun himself. He stood up as if he was expecting her. For a small instance, she thought she saw him nodding gently to her; then she woke up. In her dreams he was always silent, approving or disapproving of the situation. This time, Aphr felt that this had to do with the Warlord of the Norrfjords.
When reality replaced her dream, the sun was above her head: land was on the horizon and it the warm sea-breeze surrounded her. She looked around. She heard the laughter of a young girl and a child. Indeed, next to her there was a girl sitting, she looked as being a Southerner like Aphr. She had short, brown hair, beautiful green eyes and a baby in her arms. The small child looked nothing like her mother. She had a darker complexion and had her hair was dreaded curls as it was typical for children in the Swashbuckler’s Isles. She spoke first: ‘I’m sorry. Me and my daughter woke you up’. Aphr smiled ‘it’s alright, I think we are approaching Grana, the biggest island, no?’ The girl nodded.
When reality replaced her dream, the sun was above her head: land was on the horizon and it the warm sea-breeze surrounded her. She looked around. She heard the laughter of a young girl and a child. Indeed, next to her there was a girl sitting, she looked as being a Southerner like Aphr. She had short, brown hair, beautiful green eyes and a baby in her arms. The small child looked nothing like her mother. She had a darker complexion and had her hair was dreaded curls as it was typical for children in the Swashbuckler’s Isles. She spoke first: ‘I’m sorry. Me and my daughter woke you up’. Aphr smiled ‘it’s alright, I think we are approaching Grana, the biggest island, no?’ The girl nodded.
They spoke for a little while. The woman was called Una, she was a Spiritchaser and a farmer of magical vines. She was indeed from the Southern Seas, but from an island in the far west to where Aphr was from. He daughter was the offspring of a love affair between her and a Swashian. Her father was a pirate and requested to keep his daughter in the isles so she could be educated in the pirate ways. Aphr spoke a little Swashian, but understood that the little girl wanted to follow her father’s steps as opposed to what her mother did for a living. The little girl was called Ella and kept on chanting a song in Swashian: ‘al vida pirada, al vida mejor’: meaning 'pirate life is the best life'. Her mother was disappointed her daughter had no magical talent whatsoever, but was devastated to see her choosing a path away from her. However, she suggested to show Aphr around after she was done with the pirate business. ‘it would be better for me to have someone to hang out with after I say goodbye to Ella’. She wiped of a little tear. Aphr had no children of her own and she did not wish to for the time being. The war with the East was draining all her maternal insicts, whatsoever. Una asked her if she has a ‘friend’. Aphr went beetroot red and bit her lip. Well, there is this Warlord I am interested in but he is not one of us, so I can’t read him very well’. Una looked surprised: ‘Is he a Swashian then?’. Aphr bit her lip again: ‘no, he’s from the Norrfjords, he is an ally and he is meant to help me during my time there, showing me all I need to retrieve he powers of the Golden Globe’. Una smiled. ‘Alright then. I see, is he nice?’ Aphr sighed, she really didn’t enjoy talking about matters of the heart. ‘He is very handsome and strong, but I do not know much about him yet, I’d rather not talk about it too much, just in case I jinx it’. Una smiled and nodded.
The ship arrived on the bay. It was all coloured houses, cacti and palm trees. Being used to the grey skies and the green tall trees of the Wetlands and then the vast gleaming white snowy dunes of the Norrfjords, Aphr had a slight shock. She followed Una and Ella. Ella left her mother’s hand and jumped into the arms of a tall man. His face had the ritual colouring of the Swashians, indicating that he was a pirate with his own boat. He had long black dreads, adorned with silver beads. She hugged him and he got her in his arms and lifted her up. He spoke to her in his native tongue, explaining to her all about the Bay of the pirates. Aphr understood some of it. Una held Aphr’s hand in despair as she was watching her daughter fleeing away. Una whispered, almost breathless: ‘let’s go, it’s too late for me to stay here anyways’. She waved goodbye to both the man and the little girl and they fled. Aphr thought it must be hard to say goodbye to your own child. As they walked away and towards a tavern on the bay, Aphr started talking to Una out of solidarity, hoping that would cheer her up.
‘Una, I’m on a quest. It has a lot of legs but first I’m looking for the Golden Globe. So two full moons ago. I went to this gathering of warriors in the Norrfjords. They told me one of the warlords there can help me on my quest as he is the holder of the Golden Globe. As I have my alliance up there, I trust that this will be a successful and neat operation. I recognised immediatelly who he was. He is a little older than me, and extremely charming. He has a long beard and a sword with carved snowflakes on. He lives in a house in the deep dark forests of the Norrfjords and he has a few hounds to hang out with. I had to brave myself with Magical Vinejus to be able to talk to him’. Una just nodded and remained silent. Aphr continued. ‘He is a good and just warlord, or so they say. He agreed to help me on my quest and use the Golden Globe as long as he gets to accompany me on it for at least the legs of my quest that take place up there. I can stay in the Norrfjords for as long as it takes and I have been travelling a lot so far. I went to consult my friend Ioli in the Wetlands. She is a Priestess of Fire and she got herself into Fire Frenzy to help me see the future.’ Una’s eyes where not wet anymore. Her face was lit. ‘Yes’. She said. ‘this sounds quite interesting, tell me more!’. So Aphr continued, and spoke about how the Trickster Warlord asked to duel her first, how she then invited him in her Norrfjords fortress to dine; then she remarked on his lack of hesitation for any part of the quest she explained to him. Then she drew the psychological profile of the man, his longing for solitude and his strength of spirit as she detected. Without even understanding how, they ended up sitting inside the Swashian tavern, surrounded by sailors and pirates, male and female. Una asked for green smoke and Aphr felt excitement. ‘they don’t do that in the Norrfjords, it’s been too long since I’ve done it’.
Una listened to the whole story. ‘but do you trust him already?’. She inhaled the smoke, and so did Aphr. They stood there silent for a while. ‘Listen’ Aphr said. 'I am meeting him with the New Moon. I will be menstruating then, so I will be full of wrath if we duel. So I guess if our bloods are mixing or not that is something we need to find out, slowly. He will also be benefited from our mini alliance. All I need now, as my friend suggested, is to find the Mojo that will get him to his true senses and show his true self. But he is mature and aware of the mutual attraction. He seems to have a good understanding of how Southern warriors operate. He has never worked with people from the Southern Seas before. He is as arctic to me as I am exotic to him. We should build trust in the Mojo first.’ Una exhaled. ‘You are right. I need to take you to the Chief Spiritchasers’ Hut. He was my teacher when I studied Sailor Spirits here in The Swashbuckler's Isles. They will give you all the mojo you need.’ Aphr smiled. The two women approached their faces and felt each others’ cheek. It was a way among women from the Southern Seas to declare faith on one another. After the green smoke was totally burned and wasted they both grabbed half a raw coconut each and went out in the sun again, holding hands.
The way to the Spiritchasers’ Hut was long and difficult. There was a path that led there. Heavy tropical rain started the minute they got into the jungle. The path had big palm trees and there were children parading everywhere. Young pirates in group, singing about pirate life being the best, just like little Ella did before. That was what Swashians did. They were cute with the dreads and all, accompanied by their fathers, who were all pirates. Raiding around the Isles all the time was a way to get more childen. But women slept with Swashians willingly and hoped for the best. Once their children chose naturally the path of the pirate there was nothing more they could do, but return the children to their fathers who were eager to have them in the crew. The two women walked for hours, drinking coconut milk and chatting. Then they ended up outside a small hut. They were women there, armed, surrounding the hut. A big brown skinned man was sitting inside the hut, inhaling green and red smoke. He opened his eyes only when Aphr sat opposite him on the multi-coloured carpet. ‘You must be Aphr’ He said. He took his charm off and offered it to her. ‘Warlord Jkkeh is expecting you above the North Seas. You should be ready’. Aphr took the charm. It was a symbol of the North, made out of fossilized wood. ‘loosen it, so it slips between your breasts and straight into your heart to protect your circle of emotions’ ordered the armed female warriors in unison.
The man offered her a bottle of amber coloured mojo. She smiled. He started chanting with the warriors. It was in their language. What Aphr detected this time was words for good luck. She held Una's hand and they walked out. They were ready to go on separate ways. Aphr was taking the boat to the North Seas and then she had to mount to the Norrfjords. The warlord would meet her there. She felt ready to face him.
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