Whitewater

The streets that Devrim and Nurlan traveled within Whitewater were neither straight nor intuitive.

"I thought you knew where you were going." The Emperor frowned after the third right turn. That should have theoretically brought them back to where they started, but Devrim was certain he had never seen the sign of a crow hanging off of the business that was in front of them just now.

Nurlan hummed to himself. "I have not been here in over a decade and back then it was just a fishing village. The textile industry has exploded since then."

A few years ago, a local weaver invented a new type of fabric which could keep one warm while still being breathable. Ever since, ships could not get enough of the cloth as they passed along the coast before turning north. 

The sudden influx of people made the growth of the city uneven and unplanned. The haphazard placement of homes and businesses forced the streets to form serpentine patterns.

It was that issue that befuddled Nurlan just now. "We just need to keep heading south," the general scratched his head. "Eventually we should hit the water."

"I thought we were looking for a guide to help us find the right Captain?" Devrim was a little confused by the general's words.

Having an agent would help them make sure they got the most adept sailors for the journey. The navy of Valiant was large, but none of the ships in this harbor were made for long-range ocean travel.

The forces were meant to keep peace on the shore, not in the middle of the sea. Getting the right vessel to the right place would have taken more time, and there was no guarantee that the Empress and her crew would end up in the right town for the ship to get them anyway. 

Whitewater had been one of three possible towns that the group had selected for their watery departure. Devrim was now rethinking his choice. 

"There should be at least a few agencies along the port where we can hire someone to suit our purposes." Nurlan made yet another right turn to aim them southward again. 

Only this time, it was a dead end. 

"You have to be kidding. Who puts a wall right here?" Devrim rubbed his face in frustration. 

"Kinda foolish, I agree. But not as foolish as those who end up here..." The voice behind the general and the Emperor was filled with amusement. The sound sent a chill down Devrim's spine. 

As he turned around, the Emperor quietly laid his hand on his sword. His vision narrowed. Blocking their path, four large figures in masks held various weapons as they smiled maliciously. 

"Good Sir," Nurlan responded casually. "I wonder if you might point us in the right direction. We seem to be a little lost and will be late for our meeting." 

The words were meant to suggest that others would come looking for them. But the man holding a broad sword did not seem bothered by the claim. He pursed his lips. 

"I have some bad news for you. That meeting is never going to happen." Then he flashed a brilliant smile. "The good news is...as long as you cooperate, you will live to see tomorrow."

"How generous of you," Devrim clicked his tongue. He had every reason to doubt the claim.

Neither he nor Nurlan were in official uniforms. They looked just like travelers from the desert. This gang would likely have no issue making two weary visitors disappear. 

"Now hand over all your valuables!" The scrappiest of the group chirped excitedly. He was still quite big and even through the mask, his eyes looked wild and hungry. 

The Emperor and General were outnumbered. If not for the fact that both of them believed that the bandits meant to murder them, they might have been tempted to turn over their possessions and call it a day. 

"You don't want to rob us," Devrim assured them. "Go in peace and we will not pursue you right now." 

"Pursue me?" The leader laughed. "Did ya hear that boys? This pompous prince thinks he is going to bring me to justice." 

The other men laughed. They slowly stepped forward. 

The leader shook his head. "It seems you have chosen the harder way. I do hope you said goodbye to your loved ones this morning." 

"If you knew who my loved one was, you would not be so quick to try and take me from her." Devrim drew his sword. 

The Emperor had been cornered like this once before many years ago. But unlike that time, he was not a defenseless child. Devrim was a hardened warrior who had fought in wars and against monsters. He might have been outnumbered, but that did not mean he was outmatched. 

It was the bandits who should be afraid. 

When he was in range, the leader swung his broadsword. The sharpened edge arced through the air with deathly speed and accuracy. 

But Devrim had no trouble meeting the blade with his own. It locked against his cross-guard before being easily batted away. 

The bandit's eye widened at the ease of movement. He gritted his teeth. "The fancy prince has one fancy move. Let's see you try something like that again." 

He lunged forward, only for Devrim to counter it and then send his blade forward to cut the man at his shoulder. The fabric sheered away, replaced by a small stream of blood. 

To the side, one of the other bandits cried out, dropping his sword as he did so. Nurlan had obviously hit his mark as well. 

"Both of those strikes could have ended your lives. I have no desire for death today. Stop before more blood is spilled." Devrim just wanted the battle to be over with so that he could get on his way. 

He was annoyed, tired, and determined to get back to his wife, and these men were standing in his way. His patience had run out. 

At that moment, a shadow passed across the sky. It covered a large portion of the street, forcing the bandits to look up to the top of the wall. 

"I want no trouble in my city. Put down your weapons and be on your way." The voice echoed between the three buildings. 

Devrim saw the bandit's face change. "We don't want no trouble," the leader suddenly changed his tune. 

"Go in peace, but GO!" the last word sounded like a lion's roar. The three criminals who still had their weapons dropped them and ran. 

With the danger clear, the Emperor finally had the ability to look at the top of the wall. As he did, a tall figure was already using the canopies and window sills to glide down from his tall perch. Behind him, a black cloak fluttered in the breeze like a menacing kite. 

He landed on the ground without a sound, reminding the two men of the jungle cat in the royal menagerie. 

When he stood, his hood fell back to reveal his short hair and ebony skin. He eyed them seriously for a moment before a smile split his face and a boisterous laugh resonated through the short street. 

"I apologize for the dramatic entrance. I have to resort to some flashier techniques these days to scare off those fools." 

Devrim kept his sword raised. The man seemed friendly, but it could be a trick to catch them off guard.

"And who are you?" the Emperor kept his tone neutral. 

The cloaked man began to gather up the discarded weapons. "Ah yes, how rude of me. My name is Malik." 

The man bowed and then pushed the swords against his cloak. Nothing happened. Malik winced.

"I forgot that isn't working just now. I will have to drop these off at the local authority as well as a description of those men for the soldiers to arrest." 

"You are a Guardian!" Devrim lowered his sword. 

"Interesting for you to say that. Either you have heard of me already, in which case I am flattered, or you know another Guardian to have labeled me so quickly." Malik raised one eyebrow in question. 

"We have the Guardian Zan with us." Nurlan sheathed his blade and held out his hand. The two men shook forearms. 

"Zan? What is he doing down here of all places? He only ever attends the gathering once in a green moon. He is always stuck at the palace..." Malik's boisterousness abated as he looked seriously at the grey-eyed man. 

Falling to one knee, he lowered his head. 

"Your Majesty, forgive me. I did not recognize you dressed like this." Malik made the sign of the Fates in the air. 

"No need for forgiveness. We appreciate your help." Devrim motioned for the man to stand. "Is this the city you protect?"

Malik nodded. "Ever since my youth. Though I suppose that doesn't mean much coming from a Guardian," he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Why do you ask?"

Nurlan and Devrim exchanged glances before the Emperor spoke. "We need ships to carry us across the ocean to the South and a captain crazy enough to take us there. You wouldn't happen to be able to point us in the right direction, would you?"

With a twinkle in his eye, Malik smiled. "Leave it to me. I know just the man."