Seaborn
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Chapter 92
🕑 Added 2022-11-24 20:11:31 +0000 UTC92.
“Make course 080!”
“Making course 080, aye Cap’n!”
“Onager crew, prepare to fire!”
“Onagers, standing by!”
“Signal the boats, prepare to throw!”
Arnnaith began rapidly moving his arms with the flags to pass my message to Gnar – unneeded as it likely was – and I found I had no other orders that needed to be barked just that second. The adjustments were made, and we waited while the effects were made known.
The chain trailing from the stern of the Raven was taut, so taut that I feared a link would snap even if a dozen people had pronounced it sound – myself included. I couldn’t help my worry, what was on the other end of that chain prohibited peaceful feelings.
As the adjusted course utilized the full strength of the wind, the chain brought the Norsa Atsa – the ship-sized four-armed lobster – to the surface, chain looped around its head and two of its limbs. The crustacean wouldn’t have surfaced if not for the other chain around its tail, pulled by the Internment. With two ships pulling on it in opposite directions, the monster was lifted from the sea floor.
As it broke the waves, it began thrashing wildly. Anyone who’d ever caught a lobster in their hand knew the wild wriggling they were capable of. One the size of a ship sent geysering gouts of water into the sky and played on the taut heavy-duty chains like a lute.
They held, though. And the teams in rafts that were waiting for it launched their attack.
The tactics were reminiscent of my whaling days. Honestly, the plan was mostly mine. My lieutenants had been a bit stumped on how to face the creature when it had a concussive area of effect ability that would stun any team that attacked it in the water. My proud strategists could outmaneuver me in personnel conflicts any day of the week, but when it came to dealing with monsters I still had something to contribute.
Gnar led the groups in the boats in targeting the beast with harpoons, spears, arrows and bolts at the gap in armor plating between the head and tail, while Sadeo used the onagers to lob projectiles towards its head.
Several hand-thrown projectiles found the gaps in its armor, leading to more thrashing and many more projectiles bouncing off. Once it settled again, Sadeo gave the order to fire and a ranging shot splashed into the water just to the left of the beast. Sadeo was a miracle worker, but not even he could put an artillery shot on target the first time, every time.
He saw me looking at his crew, and he just smiled and winked. They were loading another type of shot into the contraption this time.
Enchanted Round of Mass
Upon activation, increases the density of the round.
I have to admit, I’d been waiting a long time for the chance to use that thing. To utilize onagers at all, really.
The mini-catapults were typically used in ship-to-ship warfare. However, I found that when I fought other ships I either didn’t have onagers to use or else a surprise boarding was the overwhelming strategy anyway. Actually having a target that suited this artillery piece more than the scorpion ballistae was exciting!
Sadeo waited until Gnar’s efforts sent the Norsa Atsa into another round of fitful flailing. Then he pulled the release.
I kept an eye on the heavily inscribed round metal ball as it was slung through the air while also focused on Sadeo. He placed a paw on the onager, his own focus exclusively on the projectile.
When the round had nearly completed its arc, the kitsune activated its ability. The trajectory changed slightly, but Sadeo had compensated for that. It impacted the head just above the eyes with a loud crack before rolling along the exoskeleton and splashing into the sea.
While it didn’t break through the armor, the effect on the Norsa Atsa was immediate and pronounced. It went slack, muscles that had been fighting against our chains suddenly loosened. My ships quickly made up the increased slack and pulled on the crustacean with a sound like a young boy trying to free cooked crab leg from its host.
“It’s stunned!” We all raised a cheer on the ship. Gnar didn’t need any instructions to capitalize on the short duration the monster was insensate. He ordered the boats in close and began hacking at it with an axe while the others continued spearing it.
He backed the boats out as the stun effect wore off, and the Norsa Atsa used its snapping ability to try and stun the beings swarming it. We heard the snaps clearly and those on the boats might have some ringing in their ears, but no one was concussed. None of our crew, that is. Some fish surfaced belly-up.
“Sadeo, can you do that again?”
“Aye, Dom.” He said with a self-satisfied smile. “Nothing like using a strategy your opponent can’t counter, eh?”
“My thoughts exactly. Let’s not tempt fate though, and finish this quickly.”
We stunned it twice more. The second time Gnar nearly didn’t get the boats backed away fast enough as it came around. The third time Sadeo’s shot cracked the shell and the round stayed partially embedded in the head. The stun time increased to nearly two minutes. During that time, Gnar – the crazy orc – climbed on top of the thing with several others and hacked enough damage to the body that with a great ripping, sucking sound the Raven and the Internment pulled the Norsa Atsa in two!
As the ships pulled their halves apart from each other, a roaring Gnar was spilt into the sea amidst the gunk and bodily fluids. He wasn’t going to live that down anytime soon.
The Internment began moving to regroup before Arnnaith had even passed the orders, Jack no doubt yelling at the seamen to force the tub into compliance. My own watery constructs managed the Raven just fine with a bit of help from a few experienced hands.
Over the next couple hours we would process the crustacean. The first priority was getting Mouse whatever alchemical ingredients he desired – already the odd fellow had leapt overboard to begin collection with a small team to help him/keep him safe. The exoskeleton would be towed to shore for the locals to do with as they pleased. Claws, legs and tail would be separated for the meat – I’d estimate about 1500 pounds of it, most of which would be shared with the Tralni outpost for the pragmatic purposes of positive propaganda … and because Gerald had talked me into an upgrade.
Investing XP into my ships’ food stores created two magical barrels – one that filled with fresh water and one that filled with hardtack. With those, we would never go hungry. We would go mad. Telling a crew they would eat nothing but hardtack would tank morale faster than telling a whaling crew they’d get no pay. With our self-assigned roles as monster hunters, we hadn’t had much difficult in acquiring protein and Gerald’s burgeoning genius in preparation had resulted in many successes and even a few meals giving temporary buffs.
We could not source all ingredients from the sea, however. Tralni had reversed its role, the outpost for provisioning ships instead hoarding their meager stores and hoping to be resupplied. I could see the premium on foodstuffs rising in many coastal areas. Seeing the tides weren’t in my favor on this, I acknowledged Gerald’s request and spent the XP on acquiring a supply of specific ingredients he’d identified.
I’d had him make a ‘wish list’ of what he hoped to have, then sat down with him to price the upgrades out. The pricing varied based off how difficult the items might be to acquire and store at sea, as far as I could tell. It was also laid out in a progressive fashion similar to some skill trees in the sense that some basics had to be purchased in order to acquire finer or rarer ingredients. For example, in the meat section dried and salted meat could be gotten rather cheaply. Fresh was much more expensive and required a larger investment to access. Even then, if we wanted flying boar instead of common poultry, we’d have to buy a number of prerequisites first.
Meat hadn’t even been put on Gerald’s list, however: we were usually covered in that department.
The exorbitant cost of fresh produce nixed nearly all of those items from his list, but he talked me into onions, tubers, and a tart citrus. Milk and cheese were less expensive and he agreed the work could be done to turn milk into butter ourselves. Honey was less than refined sugar, but the price of sugar made Gerald choke.
There were a hundred spices, each with their own unique price that made little sense to either of us. When I listed the price by each of the spices, however, Gerald was able to slash through almost the entire list himself, circling a handful of spices.
“I purchased a professional ability with my saved XP that lets me slightly alter the flavor of an ingredient to something that it’s close to.”
I gave him an impressed look. “Is that how you managed to make that moss taste like cream pudding?”
“That took more skill than just one ability, but I’m glad you liked it.” He said with a grin. “Now, if you’d agree to get me just these few spices, I can replicate nearly this entire list …?”
I got him his spices.
Those were the basic items, and Gerald said he could work with those even if we didn’t buy from or raid the stores of anyone else. Given the miracles I’d seen him work with less, I had full confidence in that.
Something which we discussed further but I did not authorize just yet was a farm project. Gerald had the very valid argument that several ingredients we’d looked into were ridiculously priced even if we came across them ourselves: eggs, for example, weren’t an uncommon find certain times of the year if you strolled the beach and came upon an unguarded turtle’s nest. Trying to keep a supply fresh aboard a ship was a joke, though, so apparently the price on my magical ship considered it a luxury good.
Solution? Have someone manage some egg-bearing animals in the excess empty space on the Internment. Likewise, there were a handful of other things that should be easily cultivated by amateurs; mushrooms and the like. If I was going to allocate space for atmosphere for non-cursed crew when we submerged, I may as well do it for animals. And if I did it for animals, I may as well do it for plants.
There were problems that arose from such a project. While it was a common story trope for a farmhand to go make his life at sea, my crew nevertheless had a severe deficit of skills to help grow food or manage livestock. What really kept me from approving the idea, however, was a fear that either of my ships would become a menagerie.
Gerald’s suggestions were to utilize the empty spaces on the Internment, but I had other plans for my fleet that did not include keeping the old hulk very long.
My food investments meant that when we made our last visit to Tralni’s outpost, it was with hundreds of pounds of food and handfuls of different spices as parting gifts. For their part, they gave us a crate containing an advanced alchemy set. The set was something I’d discussed purchasing for Mouse, but it hadn’t belonged to the mercantile we’d done business with. Apparently the mayor had needed to grease a few palms to arrange for a citizen to surrender it, which spoke positively of the relationship we’d created and the message he’d be spreading about us.
Still, no one pursued the offer I’d made to evacuate the island. Monster-filled seas or not, they wanted to stick through it.
We still received the most fanciful sendoff we’d ever gotten, with nearly the whole town turning out to wave cloths and cheer. My crew waved back, and I could tell they felt better about the state of their curse and our mission. They felt … pride! They were getting recognized for what they were doing in a positive light, something that was all too rare in my company.
We didn’t quite sail off into the sunset. We sailed a mile or so with the wind, time for all the men to internalize the proper sendoff, then both our ships slipped below the waves.
Let the outpost internalize our sendoff too.
We circumnavigated the island twice at different ranges looking for anything that might pose a future threat against the outpost. The fact was any monster from the deep could wander up whenever it pleased, but we may as well do our due diligence and make sure there wasn’t something preventable setting up a nest. We found nothing; the Makon and the Norsa Atsa seemed to have been the only local monsters. Rhistel had a grim certainty that something new would make its home here, but it wasn’t up to us to provide the logistics for the outpost’s continued existence. We were a stopgap measure.
I charted a course for the ships to follow that aligned with a common trade route from the mainland to Tralni and charged the watch-standers to keep a weather eye out for either ships or beasts. Then I retired to my quarters for the evening.
I felt the urge to grab a bottle of booze before my next conversation. I kept some whiskey locked up here for evenings when the visitors I had cared to sip with me. Drese and Jorgagu were the most apt to join me, but I’d had social drinks with all of my officers.
“Please have Marcus join me now,” I said to Arnnaith as I selected a dry Vermouth I recalled Macus appreciating. “The rest of the evening is yours.”
He nodded and slipped out. He moved and acted with the bearing of someone a decade older, and if there was still a humorous edge to his rare salutes he at least performed his cabin boy chores without complaint. Really, he was beyond the ‘cabin boy’ role and into what the navy called a ‘midshipman’ or youngster being groomed into an officer role.
Thinking about cabin boys wasn’t exactly the track I expected my mind to be on when Marcus knocked on the door with his stump and entered with a mage hand manipulating the latch, stepping from the cold water into the atmosphere I’d kept in my cabin.
I gestured for him to have a seat as I poured us both a glass. He sat back while his mage hand dexterously plucked the drink from my desk before bringing it back to him. He’d developed a habit of manipulating a mage hand in front of the stumps of his wrists like a real appendage, only to have it separate at incongruous times. I think he enjoyed making people do a double-take.
“You’ve adapted well,” I complimented him. “Much better than I gave you credit for when we first recovered you.”
He lifted his wrists. “In fairness, your points were not wrong. It’s taken me some time to adapt, and I needed to conduct some experiments to adjust to your … unique environments. Mana capacity will remain a limiting factor. But I’ll remind you that before I took up tutoring kids in magic to have an easy retirement, I spent several decades as a warmage and mercenary. I’ve seen just as much battle as the veterans Gnar leans on.”
“True. I underestimated you.” I took a sip of the Vermouth and appreciated the taste. Whiskey remained my preferred drink, but this was enjoyable. One more sip to brace myself then …
“For underestimating you and for my outburst on Tralni, I owe you an apology …”
I spent most of the evening discussing matters with Marcus. We realized that our first interactions as student/teacher had colored our thinking of each other. We needed to establish a different structure going forward.
After apologizing I also asked Marcus what his goals were, and was somewhat surprised that his answer was revenge. He kept most of the details to himself, but the organization that had abducted and tortured him was one that he’d had prior dealings with. His old decision had been to avoid them and enjoy a quiet retirement. That had gone over just dandy for him. It was now that he was feeling his years, ironically, that a peaceful end meant less to him and he intended to exact his pound of flesh.
My offers of support were mostly dismissed. Marcus didn’t believe the organization had any dealings across the waters I claimed as my Domain, and I was useless elsewhere. He simply wished for my blessing to leave at a moment’s notice if he had a lead. Should he fall in battle, I had his permission to raise him as a crewmember so he might have another shot – if a long-distant one – at getting satisfaction.
As bloodthirsty as it sounded, my former teacher was just as clinical in his designs for murder as he was describing a spell. I’d admit to being impressed.
While I doubted I would forget, I still added Marcus’ motivations and my agreements with him to the booklet I was keeping. I had a different arrangement with nearly every crewman onboard – some sailed with me for a set time, others until I’ve developed their skills far enough, or they’d gotten a unique experience they needed. I wrote them all down to make sure I never forgot or treated a crewman unfairly in our arrangement. I’d like to claim that my memory was sharp enough not to forget such personal details, but my crew was over a hundred strong and years of the sea could wear all things down.
We set up our night rotation which included a transfer of many people to the more spacious Internment for berthing, though a minimum defensive crew was maintained aboard each ship, a rotation Gnar delegated but oversaw. Prior to turning in myself, Drese requested to speak with me. On entering, he handed me a potion to analyze.
Healing Potion:
Restores 35 HP per ounce.
There were about three ounces in this bottle. I swirled it around and asked “what are the side effects?”
Drese smiled indulgently. “None.”
“None?” I repeated incredulously. Mouse’s ability to make potions was incredible, but his creations were always plagued with added maladies or debuffs. Some of them were worth it, but most were held in reserve for a moment we were desperate enough to rely on them.
“There are no side effects to this healing potion.” Drese repeated. “Having fresh, proper ingredients and an advanced alchemy kit allowed Mouse to make it without his normal issues. This could be sold for full price in any market.”
“How did he avoid cursed effects? Jorgagu had struggled with his enchantments having wildly different issues until I freed him.”
“I am theorizing that is a quirk of the healing properties itself,” Drese explained. “He also created a stamina potion but that one has a cursed effect: any non-cursed beings who drink it will instead have it act as a soporific.”
I couldn’t help my grin. “So it’s a functional potion for 99% of my crew. Pass my compliments to our dear alchemist, please. I’ll be around to congratulate him myself, but …”
“He wouldn’t think anything of your visit or your thanks, but it’s good of you to do so. I saw Marcus in here earlier, I’ll speak with him about potions that could potentially shore up his weaknesses in the depths.”
At the thought of Marcus being untethered from maintaining several spells to let him breathe underwater, avoid crushing damage and swim swiftly, my smile turned savage.
When I awoke that night, it wasn’t to anyone knocking on my door or a monster attacking. It was an intrusion on my Domain, but it was subtle. The sheer strangeness had me sitting up against the bulkhead to try and parse out the information from my skill.
A quick scan of the surrounding waters exposed no intrusive creatures or beings of any sort. We were travelling through the barren sea – areas with such depths and distance from shore that the basic prey most ecosystems were built off of couldn’t flourish, and the water became very empty. Various monsters that had ways of subsisting outside of routine hunting were the most common residents.
Them, and the really big monsters.
But my ships were the only things in my Domain besides water, leaving me a bit puzzled. The feeling of intrusion was ephemeral. I considered whether it could be something to do with Jones, but doubted it. I didn’t discount it entirely, but I remained skeptical. This feeling didn’t have any taste of the sea like Jones did.
What it felt like I wasn’t sure, besides that it was getting slowly stronger. I couldn’t place it having any distinctive sense when it roused me.
It gave off a sense of fluidity and life, but not the same as water. It was … thicker. Cloying.
Curiosity and befuddlement were giving way to anxiety as I worried this could be a new magical attack or undocumented effect of the more perilous seas. I brought my attention back and swept it through both my ships thoroughly, intending to get a baseline before bringing the issue up with Drese. Marcus as well most likely …
I stopped when I sensed a commotion in the hold of the Internment where the crew slung their hammocks. One person was having some sort of fit, severe enough to be drawing attention: Hali.
The young Madu boy who’d trailed her since the Internment was their prison ship was by her side, trying to comfort her and wake her gently. She didn’t wake. She just continued to shake, then her shudders became spasms and convulsions.
By the time she’d knocked herself out of her hammock and sprawled on the deck, I’d gotten topside and alerted the watch. Then I shot over the side of the Raven and burned stamina to get to the Internment as quickly as possible.
Things were already playing out over there in a manner I didn’t understand and was partially helpless to stop.
First a crowd formed around Hali as people woke and realized there was an issue. Then the medicos stepped forward, only to have no solutions.
Then Marcus arrived, and while I’d breathed a sigh of relief into the dark deep at sensing him, he quickly upset that calm. He tried to attack Hali.
Attack her!
Jack of all people immediately interposed himself between Marcus and Hali and they began arguing fiercely. I wanted to freeze everyone in the area, but Hali and Marcus were both not under my control. Freezing Jack would simply let Marcus get to Hali; he’d probably think I was signaling him to do just that.
By the time I burst into the hold, spraying cold saltwater, I considered it a minor miracle that blood hadn’t been spilled yet. Jack was saying something about “deserves a chance” but he cut off as all eyes spun to me.
“Explanation,” I barked. “Jack!”
“Captain,” the lizard-man said. “Hali is having a malady that the esteemed wizard judges dangerous enough to warrant immediate execution. Hali and I have our … history … but she is fiercely loyal to you and I believe she deserves a chance and treatment.” I was impressed that he’d stood up for her. Hali hadn’t been outright divisive out of respect for my command, but she’d made no pretense that Jack’s mercenary past (which had directly led to her exposure and torture) were not forgiven.
“Marcus?” I spun to him rapid-fire.
In response, he said two words: “Blood magic.”
By the way the spectators hissed and drew back he hadn’t said that part yet.
I tried to assess the situation based off what I knew of blood magic and immediately discarded the thought process. I knew too little, only that Marcus – arguably the most knowledgeable about magic on either ship – believed it dangerous enough to kill someone under my command. Someone he new I cared about.
“You two,” I pointed at Marcus and Jack. “And you,” I pointed at Will. “Stay. Everyone else, vacate this hold! Now! And someone get Drese over here!” My men moved with discipline, even though some doubtless wished to stay and others wished to get as far as possible as fast as possible. The madu teen refused to leave Hali’s side but I didn’t make an issue of it.
Meanwhile, I had Jack and Will physically pin down Hali’s flailing. Their combined strength score tripled hers, yet she still made them put effort into keeping her controlled. I knelt by her side.
Blood magic. All I really knew about it was that it was a widely illegal, usually executable offense and that witches who practiced it were up there in the storybook villains ranking beside the Madu and necromancers. I now counted some from those latter groups amongst my allies, but judging by Marcus’ reaction I wasn’t betting on upsetting another stereotype.
Analyze showed that she was at near full HP, but my skill couldn’t identify whatever was affecting her, lacking the analyze levels or any healing class. I touched her and activated my replenishing waters spell anyway, hoping it would cure her. My spell activated, the huge initial casting cost disappearing from my mana, but where the spell normally drained most I not all of the rest of my mana, this casting only took a few points. I healed her bruises and restored her HP to full. Whatever foreign magic had a hold of her was unaffected.
“Please explain more,” I asked my old mentor as I stood.
“My immediate concern is that she will explode,” he said curtly. “If she suddenly starts swelling take cover … best you flood the hold with seawater, too.”
“That’s …” I glanced at Hali and my heart ached as she thrashed. “I understand your logic. Do you have any remedies?”
“No.”
“Tell me what you can about the magic.”
“Blood magic extracts a cost to use, but it can be an extremely diverse field because where that cost comes from can be adjusted. It can come from the caster, a third party or even the victim. What I’ve seen of it was used by a cult. They had a tendency to target someone in a group and infuse them with the power of another victim, leading to the explosion I warned about with damage directly to the health pool and hard to cleanse poisoning besides.”
“Is she showing those signs?” I asked. “This doesn’t look like a sudden attack.”
“No,” Marcus relented. “However we are also hundreds of miles from any caster who could be doing this, distance plays a factor too. And if not that specific attack, it still won’t be good. Puppetry, possession, a focal anchor for other spells … the tamest thing I can think of is that she is being used as a beacon to pinpoint our location.”
That wasn’t ideal, but ever since that tactic had first been used against me I’d been thinking of ways to work around it.
At that moment, Drese dropped into the hold with a splash as he was just as soaked as I from his swim from the Raven. He zeroed in on Hali immediately and raised his hand. Golden light surrounded her, then her struggles froze. Jack and Will, suddenly not fighting against her, looked at each other and then the Madu master before slowly standing up.
“You healed her?” I asked.
“No,” he responded. “Merely gave her some peace.” He approached briskly and kneeled over her, assessing her with either skill or spell, I couldn’t say.
“How long ago did she start thrashing?” Jack gave an estimate, but it was the madu boy who gave a precise time. I mentioned feeling the change in my Domain. Drese asked a few more questions about the situation before turning to Marcus.
“Master wizard, I understand you and Ms. Hali shared a period of confinement at the capitol of Antarus.”
“We did.” Marcus replied curtly. He’d gotten used to life without his hands, but still didn’t speak of his imprisonment with anyone.
“Can you recall anything about her treatment that seems suspicious of blood magic?”
“We were not cellmates, I couldn’t say what she went through besides that they seemed to have a vendetta.”
“She told me some,” I said, drawing all eyes. “Physical torture, mental manipulation … but there were hours or days where she couldn’t recall anything at all. She thought whatever they did was horrible enough her own mind refuses to let her remember.”
“Possible,” Drese said, turning back to her. “But I believe she must have been deliberately placed in catatonia. Her bones, you see,” he trailed a finger along her shin. “They’ve been etched into with infused glyphs.”
“Etched?” Jack said in horror.
“Indeed. They are facilitating whatever ritual is being performed – I suspect from Antarus.” He met my eyes. “I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do to prevent this from completion.”
I swallowed thickly. “Amputation? You said it was etched into her leg …”
He was shaking his head. “No, Captain. Through her entire body. Legs, arms, pelvis, scapula, skull, and even some vertebrae as anchors. Even if I cut off the glyphs in her limbs it is too late, the magic has a hold of her and whatever perpetrator is on the other side can complete it.”
“Understood.” I said, my voice steadier than I was. “What are some protections we can take while this completes?”
Marcus gave me a look that was a mix of disappointment and grief. If he’d seen friends killed by the blood magic he’d described earlier I could understand, but I was not going to preemptively kill Hali.
“If I might first suggestion a thorough scan of Master Marcus?”
Surprise turned to a quick tension as we all processed what he was saying and turned to see if Marcus objected. He harrumphed under his breath but stood tall and nodded. Drese performed whatever analysis he needed, paying particularly close attention to the stubs of his forearms, before nodding and pronouncing him clear. We all let out a short sigh of relief – Marcus included – when Drese whirled back to Hali.
“It’s completing.”
Marcus and Drese both readied spells while Jack and Will took another step back. Hali … rolled her neck and twitched her fingers.
We were all poised.
She sighed. Stretched her jaw.
We twitched.
Then she opened her eyes. Glancing first at the deck above her, she then turned her head languidly to take in her surroundings and all of us. She chuckled.
It made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. That wasn’t the way Hali chuckled.
She stood up. Slowly, as not to spook us, but with a mix of languid grace like someone with a primary agility stat and carefulness, like they were unused to their own body.
Probably because who- or whatever was standing in front of us wasn’t used to being in Hali’s skin.
She lifted her eyes to mine. They were crimson red.
Vampiric puppet has tried to engage you in mental combat!
Oh-ho! So it was a vampire doing this blood magic, and they wanted to play mind games?
Bring it.
I felt Marcus step behind me and set his stump on my shoulder even as I accepted.
As I fell into Tadra, the mental realm, I felt the pull of my opponent attempting to assert dominance over the landscape. They were strong, I’ll concede that, but my curse tied me to my own ship more tightly than just a high willpower stat.
We split the difference. My opponent’s mental sanctuary was the belfry of a tall tower, adorned with stone protrusions and carved figures. The landscape surrounding the tower was a lush, manicured garden under the red moonlight of Uropa.
Our surroundings were a juxtaposition; I appeared at his level by virtue of standing in the crow’s nest aboard the Raven, an endless sea backing me lit by the pale moonlight of Callis, the larger moon.
My opponent stood at the edge where his tower disappeared into my domain. His lip curled slightly in distaste at the state of things.
He was not wearing Hali’s skin here, but his own. He was tall and well built, with pale features like the vampires I’d fought aboard the Internment. His clothes spoke of high fashion, which might have been just an illusion of his own mind but he wore them as naturally as any aristocrat.
He flexed against my domain, as if he couldn’t bring himself to believe that I was truly as in control of it as I seemed. He looked at the moon behind me, scoffed, and then met my own eyes. His smile was genteel, with all the confidence of superiority behind it that I was used to seeing from those in power who considered themselves benevolent.
In that moment though, I didn’t doubt that his power was more than just an illusion. The vampires I’d fought before were strong opponents who’d acted like they were playing with their prey, cats hunting rabbits.
This vampire had the confidence of a panther with a mouse.
I was looking forward to this engagement!
He gave a quarter bow – more of a slight bend of the torso as acknowledgment than a bow – and disappointed me. “I am contacting you through this vessel as part of favor owed. Stand by for the monarch of Antarus, he wishes to speak with you.”
Excuse me, who?
Author's Note:
Happy Thanksgiving!
Wasn't planning to go silent on you guys for so long. Was working through some stuff on my own and helping others do the same - then an unexpected move came up.
The military do that sometimes.
Still getting sorted with the move (and another move expected in a few months, oh joy) but still committed to finishing this story!
Comments
icesharkk
hope you get the chance to settle in soon. This is a riveting story
Rotary
Funny. I was just thinking that I missed this story. Honestly deserves a reread, methinks.
asdfgh12678
I’m glad to see you’re still alive.
Framing Device
So, where do I find a silver spray can for my teeth, for I shall proclaim: O what a day, what a lovely day! It lives, it dies. It lives again! Joking aside, take the time you need. I’ll be sitting here, waiting.
