Like Father, Like Son

Vine sat on a tall cliff, his legs dangling lazily over its edge. The day was warm and bright; a gentle breeze formed ripples in the river below and flowed through Vine’s golden hair. The boy smiled widely as he ate, breaking his fast on goat’s cheese and honey spread across slices of fresh sourdough bread, topped with raspberries. He washed this down with a sweet wilderberry wine, its plum shade matching that of the sky above.

It was, simply, a perfect morning.

It had been nearly a week since Vine had arrived in Reledant, the City of Luster. While it was a gorgeous city, it was much too loud for his liking. He preferred instead to waste away the hours sitting thousands of feet above the River Lam-Thellien, where only its rushing waters and the insistent breeze tickled his eardrums.

As a young child, Vine would never have dared to sit so precariously at the edge of such a tall cliff. However, Vine was no longer a child, though his actions often spoke to the contrary. He had no reason to fear heights.

In fact, he had no reason to fear anything at all.

Vine stood up suddenly, grunting as he stretched. He sighed loudly, then turned away from the river towards the city with a dramatic flourish.

“Well, it has been a pleasure, all!” He said much too loudly to no one. He then spread his right arm wide, and put his left hand against his brow.

“Goodbye, cruel world!”

He leaned backwards, reaching his right hand into his back pocket as he began his descent towards the River Lam-Thellien.

Mists, thick and warm. Some trees...drooping branches, no leaves. Green hue colors all. Ground soggy, near sea level? ...

Vine groaned as he opened his eyes.

“Should’ve just stayed put...”

He put his hands on his thighs and slowly pushed himself up to standing. He grimaced at the black notebook in his right hand; he nearly returned it to his back pocket, stopping only when he discovered

that the back of his pants had been soaked through with grime. He looked down at the ground to find that he’d basically landed ass-first in a lime-green marsh. He sighed deeply, rubbing his brow.

Vine had not picked the best day to wear white pants.

He resisted the urge to just start again, remembering the words his father told him a hundred times: “Don’t be so quick to hop around, Vine...enjoy the view.”

Vine sighed, then tucked the notebook into his front right pocket instead. He stretched his neck from side to side, taking in the landscape as he worked out the kinks from his less-than-graceful landing. He couldn’t make out much; a thick mist the color of seaweed surrounded him.

“Never been here before...” Vine muttered.

It had been nearly a year since he’d been taken somewhere new; he was starting to think he’d already seen everything worth seeing in the universe.

“‘Enjoy the view’... never hurts to try something new!” Vine said cheerfully.

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that.”

A bright orange light flared up behind Vine, mingling clumsily with the green mist. He tilted his head upwards, sighing dramatically. After a moment, he turned around.

A bald man with a gaunt face made his way towards him, orange lantern in hand. His strides were long and patient, undisturbed by the muck below. He stopped several feet in front of Vine and smiled tiredly.

“Sometimes the unknown is...”

“Ah, if it isn’t my dearest friend Loren! Welcome to my humble home.” Vine smiled a toothy smile as he bowed low, arms outstretched.

Loren sighed. “This is not your...”

“To the right,” Vine said, gesturing dramatically, “You’ll see...some green...mist, or something. But to the left...”

“Silence, boy,” Loren snapped. “I’ll hear no more of...”

“To the LEFT,” Vine shouted, “You’ll see...well...more mist, I suppose.”

Loren crossed his arms over his chest, sighing as Vine pressed on.

“I would offer you a seat, but...”

Vine turned his back towards Loren, exposing the grime on his pants.

“I imagine you’d rather not ruin your...”

Suddenly, Loren grabbed a small star-knife from his belt buckle and whipped it at the back of Vine’s head. Hardly a second before it would’ve reached its target, Vine tilted his head to the right.

“...pants,” he concluded, turning back towards Loren slowly. “Now, whatever was that for?”

“I’ll have the notebook now, Vine,” Loren said flatly, holding out his hand. “It’s time to return to his Lordship what is rightfully...”

“Ohhhhh, his LORDship needs it?!” Vine asked, eyebrows raised. “Do you mean to say that the GREAT lord ARATHALL ELEMENTHALL VI needs MY notebook?! For whatever reason could he...”

Loren whipped another star-knife at Vine, this one aimed at his left leg. Before it could reach Vine’s kneecap, he casually lifted his shin off the ground, sending the weapon hurtling off into the mist. “...need MY notebook, Loren?” Vine concluded.

“It is his, you child,” Loren spat. “I tire of your games.”

“I’m afraid we have a misunderstanding, Loren...” Vine said. “You see, I was gifted this notebook by my late father, Root. He...”

“Your father stole that notebook from his Lordship,” Loren interjected. “He was a common thief, as are you.”

Vine tsked, shaking his head slowly from side to side as he paced calmly through the mist.

“You claim that my father stole this notebook from your Lordship?”

“Yes,” Loren growled.

“And this notebook must be incredibly important to your Lordship, given that he has sent his most esteemed bounty hunter on a wild goose chase across the cosmos to get it?” Vine asked.

“Yes,” Loren whispered, narrowing his eyes.

“And you say that my father was a common thief?” Vine asked.

“What is the meaning of these questions?” Loren snapped.

“I have a hard time believing that a common thief could steal such a valuable object from under the nose of someone so wise and cunning as your Lordship,” Vine said. “So, either your Lordship is neither wise nor cunning, or...”

Vine stopped abruptly, turning to face Loren. The bounty hunter’s face was taut, lips thin and brow furrowed. He clenched his fists at his side, the veins on his scarred arms bulging through his pale skin. Vine smirked devilishly.

“You meant to say that my father was...an exceptional thief,” he said.

Loren lunged towards Vine, his feet floating just above the surface of the murky ground. Vine lifted his right leg and the heel of his left, thrusting himself backwards as he took the notebook out of his right pocket. Loren’s outstretched hand came within inches of its cover as Vine began to read.

Mountain range, covered in white. Very cold...white substance is some form of water? Sky white also, two pale moons...

Vine landed precariously on just his right leg. He wobbled for a moment, then righted himself and smiled widely.

“Hello again, old friends!” He cried, gesturing towards the mountains.

It had been quite some time since Vine had seen the Ashantii Mountains; while he was glad to be back, he was hardly dressed for the cold. He hugged himself tight, rubbing his arms while his teeth chattered. He cast his gaze towards the sky.

“Little help, Fela? Miiro?” He said. “Could use some heat if you’ve got any to spare.”

Predictably, neither moon responded. Vine was starting to think that perhaps they would never speak to him.

“How rude...” he whispered. He shook himself vigorously, hoping to generate some heat, then began walking.

“Guessing I can’t be too far from...”

Vine felt a sharp pain in his upper back; he gasped loudly as he stumbled towards the ground. He fell down onto his right palm, then ducked and twisted around, narrowly avoiding a second star-knife that whipped past his head.

Loren was hurtling towards him. Vine’s mouth fell open.

“How did he...?” He began. He cut himself short as he pulled the knife out of his back with one hand and grabbed the notebook from his right pocket with the other.

“No use, Vine!” Loren shouted. “I’ll follow you wherever...”

The boy began to read.

A market, bustling with life. The smell of pastries, smoked meats, fresh fruits and vegetables...dancers, singers, entertainers of all kinds...

Vine launched himself up from the ground and sprinted through the Haldoori Market, the largest market in the Ancient City of Zeraxes. He weaved through throngs of men, women and children as easily as one might breathe. Once he’d made his way past the fountains, he looked over his shoulder.

In the distance, he saw Loren.

“What is happening?” Vine said to himself. He kept running, unsure of what to do. No use hopping around, it seems...how is he following me?

Loren had been hunting Vine for years, but only when he stayed in one place for at least a few days could Loren actually find him. But today, the game had changed, and Vine could think of only one explanation:

Somehow, Loren was cheating. And Vine did not care for cheaters.

Up ahead, Vine spotted a small clothing cart; on its near side hung several dresses, tunics, cloaks... A devilish grin crossed over Vine’s face as an idea took shape.

“Just simple enough to work,” he whispered to himself as he sprinted towards the cart.

Loren came to a halt, needing desperately to catch his breath. At some point in the last minute, he’d lost the boy.

“Damn that kid...” he growled. What chance could he have of finding him in this mess? There were hundreds of people here, not to mention the boy had...

Loren was nearly knocked off his feet as a small man in a cloak stumbled into him. Loren righted himself, then scowled heavily.

“What was the meaning of that?” He demanded.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, sir,” the man rasped, his head covered by the hood of his cloak. “Lost my balance there...forgive an old man his clumsiness, I pray.”

Loren sighed, waving his right hand casually. “That’s quite all right, sir.”

“Thank you, thank you...” the man said as he hobbled away.

Loren brushed the dirt off of his clothes, then scanned the marketplace. He could still see no sign of the boy.

“Probably jumped ship already...” Loren said. He reached his hand into his back pocket, and... “What?! It’s...where did...? DAMN IT!” He shouted.

His notebook was gone.

Once you have collected my notebook, read this page. You will be sent to my treasury, where you are to leave both notebooks inside a small black box on the bottom shelf. Do not fail me, Loren.

His Lordship Arathall Elmenethall VI

Vine found himself in a small room. Its walls were covered with a thick metal substance, and several shelves adorned the wall opposite its entrance. On the bottom shelf was a small, empty black box. On the center shelf were a variety of coins, jewels, and...

“Paper?”

Vine raised an eyebrow as he grabbed one of four stacks of green rectangular paper from the shelf. There were fifty papers in the stack; they were uniform in size and design, each roughly the length of his hand and featuring the face of a man he’d never seen, some writing in a language he couldn’t read, and a symbol he didn’t recognize: “100”. Vine shrugged.

“Whatever these are, I’m sure his Lordship would hate to lose them...”

Vine grabbed the other three stacks and stuffed them into the pockets of his cloak. He then retrieved a match from his pocket, running it across the bottom of his shoe to light it. He threw Loren’s notebook into the small black box, then threw in the match. The boy smiled widely, then sighed.

“‘A common thief’, you say? Nay...an exceptional thief. You know what they say, Loren...”

Vine opened his notebook.

“Like father, like son.”

He began to read.