Akkana

When the young prince Maajhul escaped from his fallen kingdom, all seemed lost. He was alone in the world, with nothing but his sanity and his Guardian Hamaat.

All that changed as the two traveled. They met many people willing to join their cause. Most were common folk, willing to help where able, provide shelter, lie to protect identities. Some were talented in other ways. Warriors, spies, and mages willing to fight alongside the young prince.

Akkana is the second sort.

A mage capable of growing plants at rapid rates, Akkana has dedicated himself to the study and creation of concoctions both helpful and harmful. A specialist in poisons, toxins, and venoms, he creates deadly mixes on the fly, growing the herbs needed in the woodbasket at his hip.

Akkana lives two lives. His first is as a wandering apothecary, an herbalist loved by the people. The second as a spy, using his strange abilities to find information and remove obstacles.

His past life was spent as a mercenary of Sunraaku, where he honed his skill as an assassin. When the demon king came, Akkana left. He went south, through the great forests and to the windswept plains. It was here that he connected with the clan Xelestial, became an apothecary, befriended some pirates, and held a semblance of a normal life.

When clan Xelestial announced their support of the runaway prince, Akkana swore loyalty to the boy. Now, he protects the prince from the shadows, with potions and poisons alike.

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The wall was dark. Akkana counted the seconds as the next patrol of guards approached. He buried the small seed in the dirt, pushing a steady stream of magic to the plant, willing it to grow. The clinging vine trailed its way up the stone, stopping just before it reached the top of the wall.

The patrol passed by, and Akkana’s count started again as he made his way up the vine.

Small patches of moss covered his feet, silencing his steps as he darted toward the guardhouse. He willed another clinging vine into the lock, prying at the mechanisms. The door popped open, and Akkana slipped inside.

A new seed, glow blossom, grown in a small handful of dirt from his basket and harvested in seconds, sprung to life, illuminating the room. He hung the glow blossom on his necklace, the vines there curling around it carefully.

Hamaat had shared the layout of the building, but was unsure if anything had changed. Akkana breathed deep, extending his senses to the tower itself, feeling for plant life. The paper used here was made of pressed leaves, bleached white. The commander’s room would be where the most paper was.

At least, that was his hunch.

Following the pulling feeling of dead leaves, Akkana grew out a pair of leaves to control the glow blossom’s light. Down the ladder, quiet in an alcove, will the night leaf cloak to conceal him from the guards, back down the hall, don’t lose the count. Will another clinging vine into another lock, duck in the office, close the door.

Akkana let out his breath as the door shut softly. Uncovering the glow blossom, after a brief inspection of the room, Akkana began to dig around the papers.
Records of guard rotations, new recruits, and minor complaints made up most of the paperwork. But he was after something far more important. He turned to the next stash of papers, then the next, and the next.

Finally, after six of his counts, he found them; records of arrivals scheduled, of deliveries to the palace, of exported goods. He smiled at the discovery, pulling out the seeds of sheer flower. These went directly into the basket, grew quickly, and plucked as soon as they became full sized. Their thin flower petals were capable of accepting color from other things, to hide in the wilderness. Carefully, Akkana flattened the petal across the paper. The flower accepted the color, and he quickly willed it to die. The ink now permanent, the flower petal was rolled up, set aside, and replaced with a new petal for the next page.

By the time the copies were done, three more counts had gone by. He rolled the petals carefully, withered the main sheer flower plant, and tucked the copies into the thin canister under his cloak.

He recovered the glow blossom, checked his count, and made his way back the way he’d come. He darted out of the office, up the ladders, locked the guardhouse, and slipped back down the clinging vine. At the bottom, he willed the vine to grow once more, and it flowered with bright white and blue flowers, before wilting, withering, and wasting away to dust. Its purpose fulfilled, Akkana recovered several small seeds from the dirt at his feet before he moved on. The prince would need this information for his next mission.

Pulling the night leaf tight, Akkana darted away from the castle’s walls unseen, unheard, untouched.