Mark of the Magi

By

Lily of Trust

Disclaimers: I have no ownership whatsoever of the characters you recognize. But the ones you don't (not that there'll be any...) are aaaaall mine! P Nyah! I don't have a job aside from babysitting, so suing is sort of pointless...

Midafternoon sunlight bore mercilessly down on the docks of Kichis, scrambling the brains of anyone dense enough to stick their heads out of doors. Those who worked the docks, loading and unloading the great freight ships traversing the Straight of Eon, were no exceptions. Only they had no choice but to be there. Summertime was the busiest season for trade in the Kingdom of Taidem, and Kichis, the jewel in the crown, the Capitol, refused to miss out on its cut of the profits.

The only relief to be found during those long, hot summer days was in the lunch break all dockworkers were now entitled to. Up until a few years back, they hadn't even had those rights. Then the Dockers' Union had gone on strike and demanded a pay raise, shorter working hours, and a lunch break. Things had improved marginally since then.

Or at least, that was what everyone said. Shin Mouri didn't really notice much of a difference.

He took his break among a large stack of frigate crates. Mostly because he was the only one small and/or nimble enough to wedge himself between the crates, or clamber to the top. He didn't necessarily enjoy it much, but it was better than being shoved around and roughed up for what little he had in the way of food.

Shin took a bite from the pear in his hand and tried not to make a face at the too-ripe mushiness of the texture. He'd been lucky to get fruit at all, despite Kichis being located in a tropical zone. Dockers' wages were still a pittance.

He chewed slowly, trying to make his lunch last. Sixteen years of inferior food had done something to stunt his growth. He was small for his age, with a build that was wiry and lean rather than muscular. Just looking at him no one would have figured he'd been doing dock-duty for close to five years. Constant exposure to the sun had browned his skin to a permanent tan, and lightened normally auburn hair to brown. Eyes a darker green-blue than the churning sea swept lazily over the docks below as he caught dripping pear juice from falling to his bare chest. There wasn't much point in wearing a shirt in weather like this. He licked at his fingers, lost in his own thoughts as the daily work of the docks roared around him.

"Oiy! I've been looking for you!" A voice bellowed from below. Shin set the rest of his lunch (consisting of a heel of bread and a clay jug of water) aside. He leaned out over the edge of the crate he'd been sitting on and chuckled.

"Me?"

"No, the other skinny-assed dockrunner," The man on the ground snorted. He yelped in surprise as the pear core splattered onto the wooden boards at his feet.

"Kraken take you Shu," Shin snickered as he clambered easily down the frigate crates. "I was trying to eat. What d'you want with me?"

"We just got a galleon in from the East, "Shu said "And since we're paid for how much junk we shift, I thought might want in on it," He flicked a glob of pear-meat from his shoulder and glared mildly at the other young man. "This is what I get for being nice."

Shin coughed sheepishly, feeling very much the child for chucking his lunch. He knew the time the other docker took to come and fetch him cut into his own profits. He tossed the bread to his friend in a combination thanks and peace offering. Shu caught it easily with one hand and grinned as he bit into it. Truce accepted, slight forgotten.

They wove their way through the busy traffic of other dockers, carters, sailors and fishermen. All of them were men (and very few women) conditioned for hard work and long days. There was one truth that bound them all together: The sea is life. There wasn't a man at the dockside whose livelihood didn't depend on the wide ocean.

A carter had decided to take a right turn directly into an oncoming fisherman hauling the morning's catch. Both had gone down in a spill of flopping, half-dead sea-life. The cursed and swore and pounded on one another with meaty fists. Shin and Shu edged around the commotion as only those used to life on the piers could. They bantered easily back and forth as they went, ignoring the heady fishy smell.

Shu paused at the beginning of the pier where the galleon was docked. The heat was definitely getting to him. Having a heavyset frame came in handy for hauling large loads, but it made him all the more susceptible to heat. Having dark hair didn't help either. He'd learned early on in his career not to bother with anymore clothing than was strictly necessary. None of the dockers did. It only increased the risk of heat stroke. Some even got away with running around in a breechcloth and little else. He wiped sweat from his brow and noticed Shin was waiting for him. That was usually a tacit invitation to work together and split the resulting pay. Shu grinned and nodded; they'd done well by each other before.

A swarthy man with a megaphone in one hand stood atop a pier pilling, shouting instructions at the top of his lungs. Neither Shin nor Shu knew this particular dock-master, but all signed seemed to say working under him would be trying.

They checked in with him, gave their names to a small, flighty man with a nervous tick in his cheek, and went to work. The mindless drudgery of working the pulleys, maneuvering heavy crates onto handcarts, and unloading smaller packages to be shipped further on quickly erased any thoughts not concerning the task at hand. The jumpy little man flittered everywhere, noting down on a makeshift clipboard who had unloaded what, and which items went where.

Shu heaved yet another wooden box down onto the pier and moved back to bring another down to the ramp. He left the unpacking and running to Shin. The young man deftly pried the lid off the crate, shoved the crowbar back into his belt, and quickly emptied the contents. None of the other workers were half so quick when it came to squirming through the crowds to the waiting carters. That was why they made such an effective team; Shu had strength enough to unload dozens of crates, and Shin had the speed to get them unpacked.

He had just finished with a shipment of spices all carefully bottled and labeled. The carter took off at a speed precisely calculated to get to his destination as quickly as possible without damaging the cargo. Shin turned back around to see to the next one, when he stopped and looked about himself with a frown. After spending practically his whole life on the piers, he could tell when something was out of place. There was a strange noise nearby, barely audible over all the commotion in the background. The sound of a rope creaking under immense pressure, he thought. Instinct brought his gaze to rest on a large crate suspended by a rope-and-pulley set up over the dock. Beneath it, several other crates had been stacked, only half unloaded. Shin could just see the rope snapping, the crate falling, and the utter destruction of the goods beneath it.

All of which would come out of the dockers' combined wages

Shin shoved through the crowd, ignoring the snaps of annoyance. He watched as the rope frayed and began to untwist near the metal staple it had been secured to. It ripped loose just as he reached out to secure it. The rope twisted away and tore through the air with a sinister 'zzzzzt' noise.

Shin yelped and dove for it, reaching desperately. The madly lashing end curled once around his wrist. It snapped taught suddenly as he got his feet back beneath himself and braced his body backward against the pull.

The crate swung crazily from side to side as its fall was abruptly halted. Shin grunted in pain as the force practically ripped his arms from their sockets. Joints popped as he tried to strain back. Other men rushed crazily back and forth beneath the dangling creel, removing as many goods as they possibly could. Blood ran down his arm and dripped into his face as the rope bit cruelly into his wrist. Shin barely managed to raise his other hand to grab the cord. He could feel his feet beginning to leave the ground, and had a sudden horrible mental image of himself being pulled along by the weight of the load, and dragged right through the pulley.

A heavily muscled arm clamped around his waist, squooshing the wind right out of him. Another arm reached up to take hold of the taut rope.

"Heavy...isn't it?" Shu's gruff voice panted into his ear. The muscle and sinew in his arms corded and stood out in sharp relief against his skin as he slowly managed to pull the line back. Farther on up, the rigging began to fray against the pulley. Both young men could only watch as it shuddered and jerked. The rope slid between their hands, taking the skin off their palms and running slick with blood. Shin cried out in pain as he finally lost his grip, and the crate plummeted to the dock below. It smashed right through the wooden boarding and went on to sink into the depths of the bay. Fortunately nearly all of the boxes below had been cleared away, and no one had been stupid enough to dart back beneath the fall zone.

Shu and Shin crashed back to the ground and stayed there in a heap, slightly dazed by the impact.

Shin curled up on his side and hugged his lacerated arms to his chest, teeth gritted against the pain. Shu ignored the burning sensation in his palms and pushed himself back into a sitting position. He took in the huge, gaping hole; loose boards hanging off its edges like teeth attached only by a thread, and shook his head. That was going to take some serious gold to patch up.

"You two!" A megaphone-enhanced voice basted into their ears. Both young men jumped in spite of themselves, and leaned away from the dock-master. He took notice of this and lowered the phone. He offered them a half smile. "Good work. Take a quick break and get those sores seen to. We wouldn't want infection to set in." He bustled off to the piles of salvaged goods and began to sift through them with the assistance of the board-toting man.

Shu looked over at Shin and grinned ruefully. "Y'know, somehow I really don't think he's too concerned for our health."

Shin managed a chuckle and pushed himself to his feet. He was shaking in every limb from expended adrenaline, and forced himself to breathe evenly. "We're only as valuable as the work we put in." He stared down at the lurid rope burns that marked up his arms, and winced to himself. "We'd better wash these off and bind them up though. With the junk we handle, it could get nasty quick."

Shu pulled a face. "Gangrene. Great."

Plenty of people pulled back to give them room to leave. Most of the other dockers had seen their sudden spurt of heroics, and a few even offered a spattering of applause.

Back towards where the harbor met the city, the two men found a quiet spot near one of the communal pumps. This time of day, most people who could afford to do so were inside napping away the summer heat. Kichis would truly come alive after evening fell. Shut applied his strength to the rusty pump, which squeaked and groaned in protest, but spat out a sudden rush of clear water. This close to the docks, the water was still salty. Salt water was often used in cooking and cleaning. If you wanted fresh water, you had to go further into the city where the wells reached underground streams.

Shin hurried off to a nearby peddler's stall and picked up a few strips of something to wrap the raw marks with. Shu hissed to himself as he dunked his scored hands into the pail of saline. The salt might help wounds to heal, but it stung like fury. Shin dropped to his knees next to him and gestured for him to extend his hands. Shu sat quietly as the smaller teen bandaged up his hands. He flexed them experimentally, and raised an eyebrow at the near-professional quality of the binding. Shin just shrugged and dunked his own arms into the bucket. The water didn't seem to bother him at all. He scooped up handfuls of it and allowed the saltwater to dribble down his arms. The liquid in the pail slowly took on a pinkish tinge.

Shu left him to it and stood to stretch. There were horrible kinks in his shoulders and back from where he'd been stooping to heave crates for hours on end. He figured that even with the reduction for construction costs, he'd still netted a pretty fair amount that afternoon. He could get the rent paid up for the rest of the week and still have enough left to put by.

"Think you could hold a pint or two, shrimp?" He looked back over his shoulder at Shin, who shot him a dirty look. There were only three years between their ages. He didn't have to rub in the brown-haired teen's lack of height.

"I hope you're joking," He said flatly, shaking water from his hands. "I could drink you under the table!"

The bigger man chuckled. "I'd like to see tha-" He stopped mid-sentence and stepped forward to grab one of Shin's wrists in his hand. The bone structure seemed almost ridiculously delicate against his callused fingers. Shu turned the hand over and was amazed to find no mark whatsoever. His eyes traveled up Shin's forearm, and still saw nothing. No rope burn, no scab, not even a scar!

Mouri yanked his hand away and took a few hesitant steps backwards. His eyes were wide and dilated, and there was something in his posture that resembled a cornered animal. He looked very much as though he wanted to bolt for cover. Shu's eyes fell to the pail of water, and understanding lit up his eyes like the sun in the east.

"You're an Elemental, aren't you?" He asked quietly, though there really wasn't much of a question in his tone. Shin swallowed hard and opened his mouth to deny it, but couldn't seem to find the words.

"Shu...you can't...I mean...don't...It's just hereditary..." He seemed to be on the verge of panic now.

"You think I'd turn you in?" A thick blue-black eyebrow disappeared behind his bangs.

"The reward money is an awful lot," Shin said weakly, though his voice seemed somewhat hoarse, even to his own ears.

"Not enough to condemn a man to die!" Shu growled.

"...You could get into trouble for this," No lie. There was always a demand for elementals in Kichis. And the reasoning behind it was both twisted and murky.

Up until twelve years prior, a single Family had reigned as the Rulers of Taidem. It had always been a wise and just sort of ruling Family, or at least the History books said as much.

But then the Family's head Magi had gone rouge. He rampaged throughout the palace, destroying all with even so much as a trace of the Family's blood. Until at last there remained only the youngest son, recently returning from hammering out trade deals with a small city-state. The son was also a Magi, though only a minor one. He had managed to deflect the rouge's attacks, but could not go on the offensive. The rouge, realizing that the son's shields were far too advanced, put all his energy into a single casting, and spun a spell on him that slowly drained him of his life essence. The shields were of no use, and the young man fell.

For some reason known only to himself, the rouge...vanished. The Family's head steward stepped forward and immediately began researching ways to counteract the spell. Eventually he happened upon a method that worked to keep the Prince alive. It involved taking four Elementals, human Magi gifted with the ability to channel elemental magic, and pouring their life energy into the last son. The hope was that a more permanent cure could be found in the time bought with the Elementals' lives. Since such gifted ones were few, the general populace didn't complain; they just wanted their sovereign to return to them. Rumors began to circulate that if the correct combination of Elementals were gathered, it would permanently shatter the bonds of the spell.

As more and more Magi were burnt out, drained to mere husks of human beings, the search for more 'volunteers' spread out to the boundaries of the kingdom. That Shin had managed to last for so long without anyone discovering his secret in the Capitol was nothing short of a miracle.

Shu shrugged. "I can always say I didn't know. After all, I don't have any of those little gadgets that sniff out Magi. Those...Diahora things" He measured off a space about six inches long between his hands, outlining a Diahora's dimensions.

"I'm not a Magi." Shin said flatly, in a tone that brooked no argument. "It just runs in my family. Goes back fourteen generations."

Shu held up both hands. "Alright, not a Magi." He smiled earnestly at the shorter man. "You can trust me to keep your secret. Just between us now, right?"

Shin nodded slowly, realizing that for the first time there was someone else outside of his family who knew what he was, and had no intention of turning him in for a hefty sum. There was something in Shu's eyes that said this was no lie; that the thought had never even crossed his mind.

"You think we ought to get back to work?" He asked finally.

Shu shook his head. "Not a chance. Somebody else is bound to notice. It might be best if you took a break for a few days, or at least wrapped up your arms anyway." He grinned infectiously and clapped Shin on the shoulder, surprising the slight man with an uncharacteristic shrewdness. "Now how about that drink?"

AN: *ducks down with her arms over her head* Yes, I AM starting a new series of ficlets! And YES, I realize I have yet to finish a single one, but I swear this won't be nearly as long as my other ones. I hope. I promise decent action in the next chapter, so bear with me, hmm? There's going to be some subtle shounen-ai along the way, and possibly a lemony scene towards the end. I warn you now, so that nobody tries to Bar-B-Que me later. Though if you did, I'd probably just sic my sister's pissy hamster on you.

Warning: Blatant disregard for the actual age differences and heights of the boys. I have seriously altered their stats, but they all look the same. Forgive me, all you purists. I don't like to let little details get in the way of a good story. Enjoy ^_^