“Crystalhawk laughed…” began Jori, reading from a thick, leather bound book.
“Don’t most of the old Crystalhawk tales begin with ‘Crystalhawk laughed.” Is that he ever did? Laugh?” snapped Phineas Port, who liked to be called Fin. He was having trouble hiding his annoyance about his friend’s choice of reading material.
“If you’re not going to show respect for the classic adventure tales…” Jori began scolding Fin.
“True adventure tales!” interjected their quiet friend Ename.
“Oh you too now, Ename?” Fin gave her a slow shake of his head, concealing a slight grin.
“Well, everyone says they’re true…” she trailed off.
Fin, and his best friends Jori Zeopper and Ename Jolest had been shouldering their way through the morning crowds. This had been an ongoing argument with them of late. Jori had recently become enchanted by the old Crystalhawk adventure stories. This was a sore point to Fin, but he would not tell his friends the reason for his annoyance.
In fact, their friend Fin had a secret. His real name was Phineas Portamento Crystalhawk, heir to the House Crystalhawk fortune and trading empire. He was the next Lord of one of the most influential Houses in the world. He was raised on the old tales of his infamous ancestor, the dashing thief, the stealer of hearts and gemstones, the rogue of flashing steel and narrow escapes. Fin knew them all; he knew which were true and which were fantasy, as well as the lives of the entire line of House Crystalhawk. The biographies, adventures and conquests of his entire line of ancestors had been a large bulk of his studies as a child. The family saga was the most important part of his early education. First nannies, then tutors had instructed him on his lineage every day of his young life. Since there had been a lot of ancestors, and since his most notable First Ancestor had so many tales, Fin had no taste for the popularized Crystalhawk tales.
To Fin, his ancestor wasn’t the loveable rogue of swashbuckling adventure, he was just the first in a very long line of people Fin wasn’t a part of, didn’t want to know and would never be. Fin couldn’t see himself as an adventurer, a thief, an alchemist or a canny trader. He wasn’t any one thing. He liked thinking that he couldn’t be forced into one category or another. He had varied interests, though none of them to any real depth or expertise. What he wasn’t, and never wanted to be was the latest in a very long line of aristocratic rogues and greedy, power-mad merchant emperors.
At the moment, Fin was annoyed that his best friends had become enthralled by the stories of the First Crystalhawk, but he was more annoyed that his family was making even more money with the publication of the old stories. Most of them weren’t true, and the stories that were based in fact were far from accurate and polished up for dramatic effect. The old tales had become so popular, especially with the University age crowd, that there were now rumors of a radio series based on his ancestor. None of this sat well with Fin. Even the symbol of House Crystalhawk was chased in gold on the spine of Jori’s book. It seemed that his family was inescapable.
Fin wondered silently if there were anywhere in the world that hadn’t heard of House Crystalhawk? Are there any people who don’t know anything about the adventures of his greatest ancestor or the generations of noteworthy successors? Could such a place exist, and could he find it if it did? Could Phineas Portamento Crystalhawk disappear, leaving only Fin Port, nobody? Could Fin live somewhere for the rest of his life and never hear the word Crystalhawk again?
Ename pulled him from his thoughts with her typical, gentle “ahem.”
The three stopped in Square of Madame Dree. Jori was still intently reading from his book. He looked up only when Fin tapped his shoulder.
“I have to do some shopping,” Ename gently began while pushing her glasses further up her tiny nose. Her slightly droopy blue eyes were like two windows open on a summer sky. She brushed back a lock of her wavy, lavender hair. “Why don’t we meet up at the New Talisman Café at about… uh, maybe three?”
“Three? Ummm, okay.” Managed Jori, falling back into his book.
“Three’s fine, Ename, see you then. First one to arrive gets the seats, last one buys!” said Fin.
As Fin watched her slip through the morning crowd, he thought, “Why does she always make me think of a unicorn?” Without warning, Fin grabbed his friend by the shoulder of his blue coat; pulling him back he hissed, “Watch out, Jori.”
Jori, snapped back to reality, looked up to see he was about to be overrun by a small group of Steam Alchemists. As the group strode through the crowd, people pulled back to give them room to pass. There were five total, four were dressed in their usual tan, one-piece work suits. One of those carried an oversized wrench, balanced on one shoulder. All wore the dragonhead symbol of the Steam Guild on shoulder patches. Fin could see that it appeared to be the escort of a Guild Ambassador. The ambassador was an older gentleman, with his gray, receding hair pulled straight back and tied. He wore an elaborate blue overcoat, worked with gold, silver and some small gemstones glittered at his sleeves. One hand held the head of an obviously expensive walking stick, topped with a silver dragonhead. No wonder people were giving them room.
“I am always impressed, and a little surprised that the people give the Guilds such respect.” Said Jori.
“Not so surprising, really,” began Fin. After all, the Alchemist Guilds have done so much to make everyone’s lives better; provided necessary technology, establishing and maintaining the major trade routes, and making peace for about a thousand years…”
“I studied the histories of the Alchemical Guilds too,” muttered Jori. “But, it’s still pretty impressive. All that respect…uh, thanks for saving me, by the way. I half-believe they would have trod me down.”
“Look,” interjected Fin, “I’m going to see a person or two before we meet up with Ename. Don’t forget, the New Talisman at three.” He called over his shoulder at his friend. “More than friend,” Fin thought. “more like sidekick.” Since they both entered University, and since graduation they were rarely apart. Fin felt a tiny pang of guilt at being relieved to be away from Jori and Ename for a few hours. All this Crystalhawk stuff must be getting to him.
“And Jori,” Fin called to him “Don’t follow any skirts!”
As Fin turned back, he heard over his shoulder, “Ambassador Franklin! It is an truly an honor that you and your entourage should choose to visit our humble …” but the rest was lost in the ambient sounds of a city square on a warm and sunny late-morning.
Of course, this is original, copywritten material, dated 2009, and is owned by the author. The characters depicted represent no actual persons, and any resemblance is purely coincidental.
