《French Sicily》


 1: Through Glints Gate

    Rays of sunlight reflected in their cocktail glasses, sparkling bright. "Why did you have to remind me of that jerk!?", Alessia groaned and grimaced. Both friends laughed shrill and loud, drawing annoyed glares from neighbouring tables. Seconds later Alessia joined both her friends. It had been too long ago to be mad or to lose herself in memories. "But you do remember how sad he looked when we found him lying in front of your front door, scratching at the door, desperate to get in while you sat behind that door!", Greta grinned wickedly and pulled the sweet mixture of alcohol and juice through a straw. Alessia rolled her eyes and sighed, "It''s not like you''d ever let me forget!". More laughter disturbed the small space.


    The three women finally found a Sunday afternoon to go out. It had taken over two months. Every single date had been taken up by something else, somehow. Weddings, birthdays, random other events. Adult life was tough, it seemed. None of the three had imagined that before they had graduated University of Bologna. From there the tight group of girls had moved out into Italy. Alessia to Rome. Greta to Naples. Valentina back to Florence. Now they sat in Rome, in front of an old cafe in a side street near the Basilica di San Lorenzo in Lucina. Late afternoon showed its brightest and they would go clubbing later. Tomorrow would be the Assumption of Mary, a public holiday all across Italy and being in August, the night wouldn''t cool down.


    Before clubbing however, they needed to catch up and reminisce of the old days, when University life still had them in its claws. A time long past, yet all of them enjoyed the memories. Especially the embarrassing ones, for some reason. "How''s love treating you now?", Valentina steered the conversation back on track, giving the poor woman a breather. "Ah you know, I''ve met one or two guys. They''ve been rather nice, but I don''t think anything serious will come from it", Alessia offered shyly, unwilling to offer any details for some reason, but Greta immediately pounced on that, "So you''re sleeping with at least one guy? I don''t know my last.¡­ ouch! What was that for!". Valentina pointed at the neighbouring table with her eyes and crossed her legs again. Maybe the kick had been too hard, she didn''t know. Nothing could be done about that now. "Alright, I get it", the oldest of them pushed her glasses up her nose and rubbed the side of her right leg, just above the ankle, "Fuck, that hurt, you didn''t have to kick so hard". The youngest of the three wasn''t sorry. She just shrugged and gave a weak, apologetic smile. Alessia glanced between the two and pulled the strap of her bra up her shoulder. It had come down her arm from under the sleeveless summer dress. All of them wore summer dresses in similar styles. This year''s fashion was quite bright and favourable to all figures, by being wide enough to avoid clinging to the waist, yet flaring quite a bit around the hips and covering even the knees.


    ***


    Valentina blinked. Bright sunlight replaced by pitch black darkness. She blinked again. The black sky stayed. Pain shot through her and she heard voices somewhere far away, muffled through layers of walls. The pain subsided and she was back in Rome. Her brow was sweaty, the dress clung to her back and the heat felt unbearable, yet she persisted. Greta and Alessia danced next to her. Lasers tinted the faces and walls in bright green and red. Artificial fog distorted the beams in an ever moving spectacle. Her thoughts were light, muffled, distant. Something was wrong. The music lacked impact and everyone moved too slow. Way too slow.


    The woman blinked again. Darkness returned. A heaving followed and her mouth took the taste of salty bile. With another blink, her stomach turned upside down. The feeling reminded her of a roller coaster. Pictures of Vienna emerged, when her mother had taken her home to her homeland for the first time. On every tourist visit to Vienna stood the Prater. Yet the thoughts didn''t manage to stay in Vienna. Another blink and she saw a white light in front of her and she was hovering. Both of her hands tried to reach for the light. Something beyond the light. Another distraction from being raised in a Catholic country sneaked into her mind. Was this Heaven''s door? Was she dying or already dead?


    Disrupted thoughts chased another as gravity pulled her away from the light. It became a tiny dot, far far away. Valentina was screaming from the top of her lungs. The distance to the white spot grew bigger and bigger and finally her curved back hit something hard. A wall, something so hard it would kill her. She had died when all air escaped her lungs on impact. Except that the pain was replaced by freezing cold water, that ate her. A huge maw swallowing the woman whole. Her eyes widened, salt lips pressed shut, frantic movements tried to move her to the surface, without orientation, without air, without energy. The black ocean reached for her soul. The last thing she remembered was salty, cold water filling her mouth.


    ***


    The groan wouldn''t come out right. It hurt. Coughing didn''t help, it was even more painful. Panic took her by surprise when she couldn''t feel her arms, or legs. Her eyes shot open and her head jerked around. Was she still alive? Everything was dark, but muffled voices became louder. "¡­ came to", someone near her mumbled. Their voice was soothing, old and reminded her of granpa. A picture of an old man in a military uniform flicked past her mental eyes. It brought with it a headache. The kind that splits your skull into pieces and makes you wish for a quick death. That meant she wasn''t quite dead yet. Or maybe she was dead and someone dropped her into hell, ever tormented by skull-splitting headache until all eternity. Using the facial muscles lead to more pain. It was unbearable.


    After spending an endless time in agony, more and more senses returned. It wasn''t that hands and feet were gone, they were just numb and cold. Sense of smell and taste revealed salty bile, just as before. Eyes still worked, yet this place was dark disregarding a few very dim lanterns. Hearing came back as well. A faint hum working in tandem with a soft clicking reminded her of old engines. "Oi lady, can you hear me!", the same voice as before asked her. Eyes searched for the source of the voice and found a bearded man with a hat kneeling over her. How could she have missed that? That person was right in front of her!


    This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    Valentina croaked and felt her voice give out on her. A stinging pain ripped through her throat. A fuck, she thought. "Just nod lightly or shake your head, that''ll be better for ya!", the man suggested and a hint of a smile appeared under his beard. That man reminded her of a legend. The flying dutchman. Gray, long hair and beard with silvery strands. Cold, dark eyes. A captain''s hat similar to Jack Sparrow''s. All that was missing now was a hooked hand and a wooden peg. Somehow she doubted that she''d find those. Yet this man had a kind expression and she nodded without moving too much.


    "Gotta get ya down, you hear? It''ll hurt, but it''s warm there!", to which she nodded and flinched when a set of hands grabbed her cold limbs. Someone threw her over the shoulder. One picture stayed with her through the bumpy haul downstairs. It was a ship that she was on. Someone had fished her from the cold, from the ocean and saved her life. Unfortunately the ship''s interior wasn''t meant for carrying someone. Many grunts and curses slowed the couple down significantly, until she arrived safe and sound on a soft mattress. Soft might be an overstatement, unless compared to the metal deck of a boat.


    Her gaze wandered through the small space, barely enough to hold a thin cot with a low ceiling, above which she assumed to be another cot or storage space. Above the door, a round pressure door with a manual wheel in the centre that reminded her of old submarines, shone a dim, reddish lamp. It flickered slightly, similar to a candle in a breeze. Moments later that man with the beard entered. How he held himself on this tin can was a testament to the time he probably had spent on the water. In her teens she had been sailing with relatives on the Mediterranean Sea and it had been horrible. The constant movement of the craft, the unpredictable, at least to her, shifts in gravity. Uncle Remi never looked out of place once and it had left a feeling of envy in her that never left, not to this day. Now fate had thrown a second chance into her face, she finally could get better.


    The bearded man and the other, tall, stubby beard, hooked nose, wide and warm jacket, exchanged glances and whispers. A screech later, the hat sat down next to her and the other man left. He had pulled a stool from under the cot. A rough, large hand clasped hers. "Gonna wrap you up in a blanket, lady. First you need to get out of that wet dress. So you can warm up. You understand?", the man''s voice had been soft and commanding. Probably the captain, if her people-reading-skill didn''t betray her. Valentina nodded slowly and tried to move. Agony found her yet again and tears shot into her eyes, which was a new feature since this hadn''t happened earlier. "Alright, lady. Hate me later, yet if I don''t do it, you might die faster", he told her.


    The woman gritted her teeth and groaned under tears as the man pulled her dress over her head by rolling the body left and right and back again. Her body was tiny compared to the size of those hands. All she had left were socks, one shoe, panties and bra. The realisation came when the blanket already covered her. Wearing transparent, lace underwear, made for warm summers, wasn''t quite the boon when being undressed in an emergency. When her blush coloured her cheeks, the old man smirked and leaned back slightly. Unfortunately now, another thought came into her mind. It sparked fear, and not just a light one either. This place, where the fuck was this? Who was this man, who had seen her naked now? What would happen to her now? With the last question, a myriad of pictures shot into her head. All came from movies and TV shows, flavoured with history lessons back in school. Women were once used or sold or both. Wherever this place was, being naked on a boat of men in the middle of nowhere could be the main plot in a horror movie, and she was the damsel in distress that would get raped and killed in the first act.


    All of her emotions must''ve been clearly visible on her face as the man studied her. When his voice rumbled through the room, for the first time she noticed how calm it was. "I''m called Whitebeard and I saved ya from the Black Depths. We don''t mean you any harm, me swears on the old gods and the new!", he paused to offer some time to process, "Seems you''ve fallen from the Upperside through Glint''s Gate and landed down here. You was lucky we heard ya scream, y''know. You''re our first Uppersider. Some say you folks bring luck. Guess others say that you bring bad fortune or that ya''ll are Manjet''s pawns. Who cares, I say. And welcome to the Golden Lily!". Whitebeard patted the wall behind him and threw a kind, caring glance across the walls as if he was introducing his child.


    Valentina rolled her eyes and tried to process. Her voice still wasn''t able to produce anything but a very beastlike croak. Her mind tried to connect the dots in the meantime. So somehow she was in a new world, place, somewhere she had never heard of. The captain used words foreign to her, too. Come to think of it, why was he talking Italian? Except that he was not, he spoke English, a language she had forced herself to learn, since Italian and German were quite useless across the world. Also Whitebeard was quite a cliche name. Did someone give it to him? And again, where the flying fuck had she fallen into? Did Alessia and Greta know? What about her parents? Her job? The amount of people left behind in Italy were numerous and most likely ''falling from Upperside'' wasn''t a mass occurrence and therefore she must be alone here. Tears welled into her eyes and her head turned away.


    "Guessing there''s a lot to mull over. Nothing I can help ya with, m''afraid. I''ll return with warm water and light food later. Try to rest", and with that, Captain Whitebeard left her. A creak and a clang, then she was alone. Alone with her thoughts, her pain, the faint clicking hum of what she was sure now was an engine and the words from an old mariner. While her body didn''t react to her demands to curl up in a fetus position, she cried anyway. It would take time to get through five stages of grief, but a girl gotta start somewhere. At least her fear had been pushed into a small, tiny corner in the back of her mind. She was sure it would resurface, once her loss had been dulled. Right now it was granma all over again. Except this time, instead of granma, it was literally everybody.

 2: Virgins End

    Glint''s Gate was but a tiny white spot, far far above. Rays of white, pure light shone down on a tiny island, at an angle. A small finger, the island was shaped in its rocky image. Built on top of the rocky finger was a man-made contraption, trying to reach for the Gate. When the Golden Lily passed the island, lovingly named Strife Island, the contraption seemed to reach far closer to Glint''s Gate. Illusions of perspective. From the looks of it, many different builders had attempted their luck at extending the finger''s reach. Maybe to finally reach the pure light. Stairs and ladders were attached to the contraption, hardly a sturdy thing. The top was bent, multiple ropes or chains idly hung down.


    Valentina shook the feeling of a haunted remnant of old. The woman had her elbows on the reeling and her gaze took in the static sight of the abandoned island. It was her second day on the Golden Lily. Her feet were still a little wobbly, but she managed. Melancholy and regret held her in their grasp tightly. Not a minute passed when her mind didn''t dread the loss of her life on the Upperside. A quiet day on the calm waters did not provide any distraction from her thoughts.


    This had been the main reason why the Uppersider had left her cot and cabin to find something. Cointoss had mentioned that they would be passing Strife Island and suggested to have a look. Gladly she''d jumped at the opportunity. A mariner''s life may be interesting and lucrative, but she was a mere passenger and had no duties or skills. Both her index finger tips rubbed the bridge of her nose and she sighed. Her skill set of being a marketing manager would be utterly useless her. That was a problem for another day however. She turned and leaned back against the reeling, peering into the pitch black night opposite of Glint''s Gate. No stars, no moon, no sun, just darkness. It was eery. Haunting even.


    A glance back at the hole far above left her irritated. They hadn''t sailed far enough for the light to be this weak. Something about this darkness in this place wasn''t right. It swallowed light, and possibly even sound as there was no sound at all, except the splash of water hitting the side of the boat and the engine.


    With a groan, she pushed herself off the rusty, metal frame and walked back to the main bulkhead into the container ship. Slowly, bulkhead after bulkhead, Valentina made her way to the kitchen. Most likely Whaler would be preparing something. So far the menu had consisted of fish variants as soup, fried and cooked, plus a vegetable called patata. Her head assumed it was potato, but that wasn''t quite it. Raw, it was a black tuber and quite a bit more squishy than potatoes. Cooked, it tasted sweet and her mind had somehow come up with a parsley spiced lychee.


    Whaler knew quite a bit about the flora on the Underside. He had asked her, "What!" when her face turned to disbelief. Why would anything grow in darkness? The tacitum navigator had just shrugged and put three different mushrooms on the work space in front of him. All of them had veins of bright green or bright blue. They glowed and reflected transformed light from another wavelength spectrum. That was her interpretation. Whaler had no idea about wavelengths. A crude description of the infrared spectrum had given her the idea. All of a sudden 12th grade physics came in handy. Who could''ve known.


    Food took another hour, enough time to stretch out on the cot. Valentina''s back still hadn''t healed from the impact. Except her mental baggage, this was the last wound visible on her body. Whitebeard had gifted her his mirror temporarily and she was grateful for that. Undressing was tedious, slow and painful. The thick winter jacket slid down her arms. Everyone on board had a winter jacket of similar style. The Underside was freaking cold. Colder than Italy in Winter by far. Her guess was roughly five to six degrees Celsius.


    Underneath the jacket she wore a spare one-piece from Grunt that was way too wide, but the height fit. A mariner''s one-piece on the Golden Lily had sturdy fabric all the way down to the shoes. It was held up by two straps that could be clipped or just slid off the shoulders similar to a dress. The arm cut-outs reached down to the waist. Her lack of spare clothes had earned her a set of donations. An old crop top from Cointoss, she could alternate that with her bra. Shoes from Whaler who seemed to have the smallest shoe size for some reason. The one-piece and jacket from Grunt, the roundest crew member, but also the one closest to her size. Everybody else was so freaking tall! And finally two sets of panties from Cointoss. Wearing those on a date would be a definite turn off to everyone. She wouldn''t utter those words to anybody however, since the kindness was heartwarming. A stranger, pushed through a hole far above, who brought nothing of value, yet everyone did their best to help out.


    When her sore limbs stretched out on the cot, she felt the bruises all over her back. The skin was tainted blue and black. It''d take a while to heal. Distant pain mingled with the aching skin. A second later tears filled her eyes and she turned to face the metal wall. Thoughts circled her predicaments, pushing one sob after the next into the room. Helpless and alone, that was her assessment and no matter how hard she cried, it wouldn''t just change. Yet the tears wouldn''t stop. Maybe it''d take time.


    ***


    The crew was assembled in full for the meal. Whaler had announced it by hitting a small bell in the kitchen space. It reverberated through the belly of the boat and ripped Valentina from her wailing. She ducked through the bulkhead into the kitchen and glanced around. Next to Cointoss a plate sat, waiting for her. The realisation of being welcome in this group of misfits made the corners of her mouth curl up. "Welcome, Miss Valentina, glad ye could join us t''night!", Whitebeard rumbled and gestured for her to sit. Left of her, Cointoss and then Grunt. Across sat Whaler, scratching his stubby beard and next to him Merina. The girl was considered good fortune, or so everyone said. Valentina had seen the pretty girl mop the whole place meticulously. Finally at the head of the table, between Grunt and Merina, Whitebeart, hands resting on the table, overlooked the assembly majestically. That man had charisma. Lots of it.


    "Before we debate our return to Mariner''s Cove," he let his gaze sweep from person to person "one more stop is due on Virgin''s End". The grimace on Cointoss'' face spoke volumes. "Why are you all making these faces?", Valentina wondered, but it wasn''t Cointoss who vented, it was Grunt''s soft voice, "You see, my dear, Virgin''s End is not a name that King Rochard has given the rock. It''s populated by a few nobles and women in slavery, degraded and suppressed. Everyone knows it, but islands maintain sovereignty. That''s the law". "Why do you trade with them, if you despise what this King is doing?", she added thoughtfully. "A trader''s honour! As long as the Free Trading Company is willing to trade, so will we", the Captain rumbled, but she could tell that he didn''t like this one bit. "After this stop, we''ll be off to Mariner''s Cove and you''ll be able to set your eyes on the majestic Peak of the Herald!", he continued and somehow the mention of this Herald lifted everyone''s spirits. The Golden Lily had been at sea for weeks and was running low on supplies. Maybe that''s why everyone looked forward to having solid ground under their feet.


    Stolen story; please report.


    Then they dug in. All of them. Swallowing larger chunks of food somehow hurt her bruises. Valentina ate slowly, carefully and listened in on the things everyone had to share. Somehow she didn''t like being the centre of a conversation amongst strangers, so she kept out as well as she could. Her assessment of the food put it into a category between "It''s okay" and "Blurg". Since there was no alternative, she just ate it and distracted herself.


    "Ye think there''s someone controlling those tincans?", Cointoss asked between stuffing a large chunk of octopus into her mouth. "''course", Whaler grunted, but offered no explanation. "Don''t you think they could be intelligent enough?", Merina''s high pitched voice cut through the noises of munching. "Ya wish", Whaler sneered, but Valentina could see that happening. This place was batshit crazy already, why wouldn''t a couple of sentient robots be game? The Uppersider kept that to herself, since the technology level on the boat was a hundred years behind, minimum. "Why not?", Merina kept asking, promting Cointoss to chime in, "Because it''s impossible. Seen our engine? It may be slightly old, but it''s about as intelligent as this" the engineer showed a fork of cooked patata "and that''s that. Someone must live there that controls them! I''m sure of that!". "Controls them? How? Magicks?", Grunt raised both his eyebrows. "How should I know? Could be the gods'' handicraft for all I know!", Cointoss mumbled, annoyed. "No mentioning the gods, you hear?", Whaler urged and Whitebeard nodded in agreement.


    The old man mostly stayed out of the discussions. When he spoke, the Uppersider noticed that everyone quieted down and listened intently. Authority at its finest. With a very crude description of a tincan from AB-21 which can be summed up by a slightly round version of the Terminator and a quick summary of the interactions with two of the machines while unloading half of the ship''s cargo, Valentina made her way back into her cabin and pushed the bulkhead shut. She needed to pee, but there was only a single bathroom on the boat, which was in high demand after dinner. Merina had told her in confidence that about an hour later she''d hose the whole thing down so it''ll be usable for the finer members of the crew. Of course she had meant Cointoss, herself and now the Uppersider. A clean toilet was something she never expected to be holding in such high regard. Times changed. She fell back onto the cot and sighed, again.


    ***


    Almost two days of nothing had passed. The only interruption of mention was a faint glow in the Black Depth. Valentina had been enjoying the fresh air, sitting on the dry metal deck, staring up into the darkness. The only light shone from the open bulkhead, everything else was pitch black. Then something fluorescent blue lit up the reeling. Something in the water was lit. She stepped closer to the edge and peered into the depths. Blue, faint candles flickered somewhere deep down. The more her eyes tried to pierce the water surface, make out the shapes and colours, the less sure she suddenly was of the shapes. The candles moved like jellyfish, drawing a mist-like smoke behind them. It was curious, very curious.


    Whaler''s hand ripped her from her trance as he pulled her back on deck, catching her in the last second before going overboard. "Dangerous, those ones. We call ''em sirens", he mumbled in explanation and walked back to the unmanned post on the bridge, a place she hadn''t seen yet. Confused and out of breath, she fell onto her ass and grunted in pain. The fuck just happened? Very closely, almost certainly, she would''ve fallen into the cold ocean. Her hands rubbed repeatedly across her face, trying to wake her up. "Ah fuck!", she groaned and stared up into the darkness. The boat had made it through the siren''s waters, too.


    And finally the Golden Lily reached Virgin''s End. Its docks were lit dimly, except the lights were more orange than red. Or maybe they were just brighter than the small lamps on their boat. They illuminated a small pier and a few buildings beyond. Those could be warehouses or offices, she guessed while standing at the bow. Grunt made the wares accessible, Whitebeard waited near where she presumed the gangplank would be attached and Merina uneasily shifted from one leg to the other behind the Captain. A firm hand on the blonde, small girl''s shoulder steadied her. She couldn''t be older than eighteen, tops, the Uppersider guessed and shook her head. Part of her wondered what the relationship between Whitebeard and the girl was, though it wasn''t her business at all.


    Whaler steered the Lily into dock and Grunt threw a rope, pulled from a hawsehole down to a fragile-looking woman who tied the knot and secured the boat in place. It was the first time Valentina realised how large the Golden Lily was. Her best estimate was roughly 50 meters long, no less, and 8 wide. Grunt pulled two large trapdoors open that lead into the storage hold of the boat. Down reached sturdy ladders. He vanished and one by one carried barrels and boxes onto deck. She couldn''t lift a single one of them, so she didn''t even try to help out. Her skills were useless here.


    Tugged into her jacket, the Uppersider stood starboard side and glanced down at the welcome committee that slowly made its way down the slope. Petrified with horror, she held her breath and hid her mouth behind her hand. Not only was it offensive, it was criminal and cruel. Two men sat on a palanquin carried by four naked women crawling on their fours down the gravel path. Yet she couldn''t bring herself to look away. And no one around her seemed to flinch. A sight they were used to, they had accepted.


    "Oh, what do my old eyes see atop this beautiful vessel? A beauty to behold! My dear Whitebeard, you come bearing gifts?", a man with a huge belly bulging the pompous coat, moustache and crown stood up and carelessly stepped off the palanquin. The King Rochard himself. With a huge clank, the gangplank fell into place and Whitebeard descended onto the pier closely followed by Merina, "Thank you for trading with us, and the Free Trading Company of course, once more". "You haven''t answered me, old friend. Who is that beauty up there? I want to purchase her off you. Name your price", the King spread both his arms, a huge grin on his face. "Well, majesty, I''m afraid she''s but a passenger. Let us talk about the trade and news from the east!", Whitebeard''s social skills were good and they walked to one of the buildings further back.


    Valentina scowled at the women who were left ignored. The second man, probably an adviser, followed the Captain and King at a distance and conversed with Merina. They were too far away to eavesdrop. What a messed up place. And why didn''t anyone throw this bastard into jail? Anger rose in her chest. All her self control was required to prevent an outburst and keep herself in check. Frustrated, a last glance sent toward the slaves pushed her back into her cabin, around Grunt and his cargo. On the way down Cointoss leaned against the second bulkhead and let a coin walk between her fingers. A neat magician trick, since the coin would eventually vanish somewhere. Their eyes met and the engineer sneered, "Fucking hedonistic oppressors". She sighed and nodded, "Yeah. Wish we could just drown those fuckers". The engineer grinned, threw up the coin and caught it mid air, "Soon, they will. I promise".

 3: Warning Shot

    Under annoyed curses, Grunt loaded crates of haggled goods onto the Golden Lily. Valentina was surprised that even a fucked-up island like Virgin''s End produced goods that could be traded for. After the small talk with Cointoss, she had retired for a while to the cabin. Curiosity had prevailed. When Whitebeard and Merina balanced up the gangplank, she was already leaning on the reeling and watched the King being carried uphill on his palanquin. It still disgusted her. A small glance down revealed a lonely, bored woman next to the rope, waiting for the signal to untie it.


    The Captain motioned for the Uppersider to follow him down into the kitchen. Both him and the good fortune girl looked like someone had died. They were in a really foul mood and radiated anger and annoyance. Quietly she followed them down, becoming more steady on the ship by the hour. Everyone gathered in the kitchen. Table pushed into a corner, the crew stood, leaned or sat in a circle.


    "Bad news travels like the wind", the man opened and sighed, "The Empress and the Duchy finally went at it". Cointoss flipped a coin and caught it on her flat hand. Under her breath she muttered a "Great", but stayed silent otherwise. Whaler pushed himself from the working space and stood straight. "Change routes?", he asked, worry on his face. "Naturally, and I don''t like it one bit. King Rochard says the Aegis pushed the Guard back across the Foggy Vortex. They are fighting south-east now. We need to take the northern route", the bearded man explained. Grunt ran a hand down his face, "Great, let''s hope we don''t get eaten by an Agent".


    The engineer grunted in agreement, but the cook glared at them, "No jinxing the old gods, ye hear?". Grunt rolled his eyes and avoided the glare. "Let''s be on our way before the information turns older", Whitebeard commanded and everybody scrambled. Merina hesitated, throwing a worried glance at Valentina, but sneaked out before she could question the girl. She would''ve loved to know what was on the girl''s mind. Something was up. And she couldn''t fathom what it could be.


    Being honest with herself, that speech had made no sense. So far her knowledge of the world been little, ignorance being bliss. Her grief for what she had lost and the pain of having bruises all over her back taking all of the attention from the problems she should have been facing. This needed to change. Sooner than later.


    ***


    Accompanied by the quiet hum and clicking of the engine, Valentina sought Whitebeard. The old captain had provided her answers before and now she needed more. Many many more. With a quick explanation, Merina had sent her up. Whaler and the Captain were on the bridge, discussing who knows what. A clang against the bulkhead announced her arrival to the personnel inside. When she pushed it open, the smell of pipe weed pushed against her sense. It was sweet and fruity.


    Reminded of TV shows, the bridge was a slightly older cliche of a cruise ship. In the centre stood a large table with a map unfolded and pinned with four heavy chunks of metal. In a corner stood a shelf holding more maps, rolled up neatly. The steering wheel was as large as that of a sailing ship, and just as wooden. Most of the boat lacked portholes, but the bridge had a large window front all around the room, allowing a 360 degree view around the ship from this elevation. Just a few levers were set between the gauges. The most surprising was an old-school tube that probably allowed them to yell something down to engineering. Radio hadn''t been invented it seems. That made her sad, but it did make sense, since everyone was relying on ships to bring information.


    "Yes?", Whitebeard turned to her and sucked air through his pipe which exited through his nose a short moment later. Both him and Whaler stared at the map before them. "Could I talk to you? Considering that I''m stuck here, but I know very little about anything, I guess I need some questions answered?", she inquired carefully. The man waved her over in response and pointed at the map, "This is most of the mapped East of the Underside". Smoke lingered right above the map and swirled when he gestured around it in a circle.


    The Uppersider focused on the written words and noticed Virgin Island, Strife Island and AB-21 couldn''t be found further West. The map ended with Strife Island. Further east of their current position which was marked by a red cylinder on the map, she found the Foggy Vortex. It was huge. Then her eyes trailed dotted lines above and below and actually all around it. She could also see why, since there was a long massif on the eastern side that reached all the way to the end of the map. One small gap was marked on the massif called Heaven''s Peak was Germaine''s Recess. This massif seemed to be a natural divide of two larger spheres of influence. North of it ruled the French Sicily, a large crown printed on an island called Sainte Monique. South of it ruled the House of the Sheathed Dagger, probably what Whitebeard had referred to as Duchy. A coronet was drawn onto another island. It read Kinship. The Duchy area was however much larger and included many many more islands. If that made a difference in the war, she couldn''t tell.


    Patiently the Captain waited until she stood up straight again. His final gesture put the pipe end onto Mariner''s Cove, a port located slightly north of Foggy Vortex. Her eyes trailed the dotted routes on the map for accessing this port. Three paths could be identified, one short, two very long ones. She could see why the crew was worried now. Probably the supplies didn''t hold up circling around the war zone.


    "Us merchants, we don''t dabble with politics. We hear things however, since we get around. The Empress, or so they say, has had it with the Duke and his council of Island dwellers since a long time. Rumour has it, that something had the Empress scared now. Now they''re at war, the Sicilian Aegis pushing against the Bronze Guard. We''re forced to sail around this powder keg, or run danger of being attacked", the man rumbled and puffed more smoke from his nose.


    Valentina remembered the cold war in Europe. It was history from where she and her friends had stood, something she had never enjoyed studying. Yet good grades would lead to a scholarship. One that she nailed. To her parent''s glee one might add. Somehow all this useless knowledge flooded back into her mind and she pondered what could have an Empress scared enough to end the cold war state and enter an armed conflict. She must know that war always strained the economy, killed people, left poverty left and right. The woman hummed in thought and glanced back down at the map. "Who do you think will win?", she let her gaze wander between Whaler and Whitebeard. This time the navigator with the hooked nose spoke up, his words brief as usual, "Duke got more punch and more people. Empress got the strategic advantage. My money''s on her!". Whitebeard grumbled agreement, but didn''t seem as convinced as his navigator and cook.


    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    "So what''s gonna happen to me?", she finally wondered, putting the elephant into the room. Whaler raised an eyebrow and shrugged. The Captain thought about it for a moment and puffed more smoke. "Can''t hire ya, but I can set ya up with the Company or someone in need of a¡­ what''s ya profession again?". "Uh, I''m a marketing manager. Got a clue what that is?", she had to smile when she confronted the two mariners with the modern Upperside world. The navigator huffed and shook his head and the bearded man pondered, "Ya market goods to someone? Like Merina and me?". "Something like that. I develop strategies for convincing customers to buy things". "And that pays money? That can''t pay much", disbelief raised the Captain''s eyebrows. Valentina didn''t think the man was dumb. He probably was quite smart. His world, his experience was minted by trading between islands, lacking the aftermath of the industrial revolution and modern ways of production, distribution and wealth. She grinned, "You have no idea".


    The two men left it at that, shaking their heads and having trouble wrapping their mind around a profession that dealt with such things. "Guess might be able to find a job on a ship, negotiating on a captain''s behalf. Ye seem to be more knowledgeable than I presumed. We''ll see", he grunted and was about to usher her out. Before she could leave, however, she had one more question remaining, "Say, how do you navigate this darkness? Can''t see any landmarks at all!". The deep laughter of both men when they shared glances reverberated through the hull. "That, my dear, is a trade secret. Captain yer own ship and you''ll find out!", Whitebeard grinned and let his pipe weed glint deep red. The Uppersider huffed annoyance and stomped back down the metal stairs to her cabin.


    ***


    Three slow days passed, bruises turned purple and then dark green. The aching had faded, but something else had started to ache her loins. It was that time of the month. Unfortunately this world lacked modern amenities, and so she had made her way to engineering, finding Cointoss lying head-first in an open panel inside the engine. The clicking noise was ear-numbing. Fortunately it didn''t even require an explanation and the engineer handed her a spare rubber thing that resembled a menstrual cup. And that was that. Before she could leave to her cabin, a coin spun in the air, singing as it rotated. The woman caught it and said, "Don''t trust Whitebeard to set you up. Make your own plans!". "Why would you say that?", Valentina asked, a second question unspoken whether everyone knew about her conversation on the bridge. The engineer shrugged and walked back to her engine problems. The Uppersider attended her monthly bleeding.


    Throughout those three days the Golden Lily managed to circle the Foggy Vortex from the south-west to the north-west and then headed eastward. The crew was uneasy. Something was in the air, but she had too little knowledge of this world. Uneasiness was contagious and she locked herself into her cabin out of frustration. No one would talk to her, not even Whaler, who always tossed a grunt and a sentence of wisdom her way.


    Finally something happened. A loud clank, then another. The boat shook with the impact. It shook the Uppersider from her shallow sleep. Until the bearings were found, another impact shook the boat, this time without the clank but with a loud boom. She rushed out of her cabin and up the stairs, into the bridge. Merina, Whaler and Whitebeard were gathered there. Cointoss voice echoed from the metal tube, "Got it?". Whaler grunted a "Yeah".


    She followed the group''s gaze towards the bow of the Golden Lily. Grunt manned a contraption that she now realised as a harpoon with multiple spotlights attached. Two ropes were pulled back into winches. The ship leaned port side until a large wing got pulled over the edge. Grunt climbed down. With the action over, the group on the bridge dispersed, but Valentina didn''t notice. Her eyes tried to determine what she was looking at. A large bird? A dragon? The skin was leathery and dark grey. Her face pressed again the window glass to get a better view. Whitebeard walked up to Grunt and started to angle the body in alignment to the winches. Five minutes later a huge corpse of a bat was lying on deck, two ridiculously large metal arrows protruding from its body. Black blood mixed with ocean water, tinted in the red glow of lanterns and the spotlights, spread on deck. No one cared. A knife flashed across the animal''s throat. If it had played dead, now it really was dead. With a wing span of at least four meters, this thing was huge, and heavy. Whaler smiled happily. The reason she''d only discover later at dinner.


    Only after hiding under the blankets of her cot, the horror caught up to her. Her wide open eyes glared into the distance. The crew had professionally dispatched of an insanely large predator in just the time it took her to climb the stairs to the bridge. Was this one of these Agents that Grunt had mentioned? No one but her seemed to be disturbed by the bat, maybe it was just normal business. Maybe.


    During dinner she stayed quiet, chewing on the memory, the danger of this dark world and also on fried bat meat. It was tasty, slightly reminding her of the distinct taste of game, the rare opportunities she''d had in her life to try it. Grunt recounted his successful shot a third time and everyone cheered him on. Praising his gunnery, Whaler''s cooking and the group effort. Valentina felt out of place. After her plate was empty, she quietly left the crew to enjoy their win. The Captain followed her, making his way to the bridge. Inside her cabin, just about to close the bulkhead, he muttered, "Small wins are important. The darkness drives ya mad, y''know. Remember that, little lady". A nod provoked a smile on his lips and the bulkhead slammed shut. The Uppersider fell onto the cot. It didn''t make her wince any longer, the wounds were healing well. Her eyes fell shut, monsters chased theatrically by a laughing crew accompanied her to a shallow sleep.


    ***


    A boom reverberated through the hull. It vibrated in response. Valentina woke up, scared. This wasn''t like yesterday. The vibration had been delayed. Outside her cabin, Whaler and Cointoss ran, shouting something. The engine went quiet. Did the Golden Lily stop? She wished for a bulkhead right now. With a practised motion she slipped into her one-piece and threw the jacket over her shoulders. A cramp made her stop and catch her breath. "Fucking period", she muttered under her breath and gritted her teeth.


    The bridge was empty except for the navigator who pointed at spotlights further ahead. "Patrol frigate, probably the Aegis", he groaned, scowling. "What could they want?", the Uppersider asked curiously, unable to follow the crewman''s worried thoughts. "After that warning shot? Hopefully routine check, if we be lucky", came his mumbled response, leaving the worse options unspoken. Ah shit, war wasn''t such a good thing after all. Even to a merchant vessel. The frigate must''ve already seen that the Golden Lily wasn''t military.


    After a while, she noticed Whitebeard out on deck together with Grunt. The frigate had turned and was in process of directing their cargo ship closer through light signals that reminded her of Morse. They wanted to dock or board. Two sets of bright spotlights were directed at them. Both attached to large guns, but she couldn''t see what type of armaments they had. Considering the metalwork, the old imprecise guns from the age of sail were probably ineffective on most hulls. Their size was scary. Whaler''s assessment of the situation was close to her own, judging from the frown on his face.


    Moments later a gangplank hit the Lily and five men holding guns hurried over. Whitebeard and Grunt just stood there, unmoving. Three of the armed men hurried towards the main bulkhead. Meanwhile a man, hands folded behind his back, all but strolled across onto deck. An officer it seemed. Valentina rubbed her temples. This wasn''t going as planned and while she was a civilian, something told her that this would go to shit.

 4: A Taste of Fear

    Gathered on deck, the crew of the Golden Lily stood opposite to an officer of the Sicilian Aegis naval forces. Whaler was absent, allowed to keep the Lily stable and steady. Five soldiers stood to the side, far enough away to allow their officer to take the stage, yet close enough to intervene should any of the trader crew do anything stupid. Both guns including their lights from the frigate lit up the whole deck. The young man strolled from one person to the next, eyeing them up and down.


    It gave Valentina enough time to study the people around them. Her consumption of action movies, albeit a rare occurrence, told her that the guns were probably inferior to anything a James Bond would have wielded in the 80s. They reminded her of rifles from old Western movies, far from automatics or semi-automatics. That said, it didn''t mean they were not dangerous. Their uniforms were black. Long, flaring, thick pants and jackets. Heavy shoes. A tool belt. Finally a white wedge cap. Additional white details were added on shoulders and the hems of the jackets. Especially interesting was the officer''s uniform, since his rank seemed to be reflected through a stitching on his left chest. Half of it was white and had a grinning face and its other half had a white frame, which supposedly was meant to be all black but didn''t quite work on the same coloured fabric, that had an angry face on it. Only the officer had this mask sewn on the uniform, so it made her certain it was a version of officer stripes.


    How this man strode up to her when he reached the end of the line of assembled crew spoke for itself. Royal blood and entitlement, great. The Uppersider resisted the urge to roll her eyes. The man, taller by a whole head, curled the long moustache, pushed a loose lock of hair behind his ear and sneered, "Passenger, hah, I know what this is!". "Uh, so what is it then?", she wondered. Before her brain grasped fully that it might have been a mistake, a flat hand hit her cheek and made her stumble backward.


    Valentina''s head spun and she groaned in pain. Why the fuck was everything in this world out to hurt her? And that hurt! Part of her wished she''d taken up some form of martial art, then she''d kick that asshole across the deck. Anger spoke inside of her, defying all strategy or tactics. A smouldering heat that wouldn''t ever accept a man raise his hand and hit her. Unfortunately there were people with guns. Inside her mouth a swelling grew and the metallic taste of blood lingered. A newfound distaste for the military appeared. Of the fellow crew, no one had reacted. This made her wary, and truthfully also scared her slightly. She walked back to her spot and peered at the impatient officer with anger in her gaze.


    "You will address me properly, as is fit for commonfolk. I am Captain First Grade Garton. Appropriate would also be Captain, sire. But I digress. Educating the commonfolk is such a hassle", Captain Garton sighed and pushed the loose lock of hair back a second time. Valentina squinted and tried to figure out if the man''s game was just about harassment or whether he was after something else. So much time wasted on formalities, it got on her nerves.


    "Ah yes, the papers of the Golden Lily check out, as far as your crew and your trades are concerned, my dear Captain Whitebeard. However I do wonder sincerely who this passenger might be? Boarded on Strife Island, no name, no origin, no records. Are you trying to deceive me, my dear Captain?", the officer turned his head and looked at the old Captain with a scowl. "It is what it is, Captain First Grade Garton. I took it upon myself to rescue a stranded civilian. Can you blame me?", Whitebeard thundered his last words at the military man, almost a challenge. "Blame you? No. I do question the motif of this young woman here. What is your name anyway?", his head turned back and tilted with a slight hint of curiosity.


    The Uppersider straightened up and said, "I am Valentina Neubauer, Captain First Grade Garton". "What an unusual name, Miss Neubauer. Were you born and raised in the West?", the officer truly struggled with the pronunciation. The man had a French accent of sorts, which didn''t help him one bit. On a technicality, it was correct. She was born and raised ''in the west''. So Valentina nodded in response, being truthful. "Ah, well, that explains your lack of etiquette and manners. No matter. I believe you''re a spy. You will be taken into custody and handed over the the Eye of Clarity for interrogation", Garton turned on the heel, hands behind his back again and started to walk back to the gangplank. Suddenly he paused and glanced up into the darkness. Valentina tilted her head and glanced at Whitebeard who looked apologetic. Then the military man''s voice cut through the silence, "And Miss Neubauer, I am an honourable man. If you have possessions you are very fond of, gather them now", his hand waved at a soldier with a gun at the ready, "Make sure she''s quick about it. The rest of you is dismissed! You''ll be on your way once Miss Neubauer is in our custody!".


    "Go, go!", Cointoss hurried her along and the Uppersider grunted in annoyance. The soldier following her was but a boy, with keen eyes and a sharp face. While she stuffed her old clothes and single shoe into a bag, her thoughts raced. How could she get out of this mess? Her intuition was right to begin with. It all went to shit, for her! Her arms slipped into the jacket and then she walked back out. The crew had lined up to say their goodbyes, wish her good fortune, Merina even teared up a little. Cointoss embraced her in silence. Grunt whispered as they shook hands, "Manjet''s Kismet, dear Valentina". Finally the Captain saw her off, shaken and sad. His lips thinned into a line and he tipped his hat, "May Gredfall''s Touch stay distant. If the gods will, we''ll cross paths again. Until then!". Accompanied by the soldier, she balanced over the gangplank and the frigate''s engines howled. It left the Golden Lily behind, a dark, red glimmer in the distance until the lanterns on deck couldn''t be seen anymore.


    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    ***


    Together with two additional so-called spies, the Marie Eclaire sailed towards Sainte Monique. A military vessel was very different to a cargo vessel run by a merchant or trader. Outside her bulkhead stood a soldier, day and night, together with two more further down the corridor. Food was delivered to her, apart from that she was being left alone, which started to gnaw on her sanity. Books on this boat were some weird dialect of French and English, impossible to figure out without a teacher. Contact with the other spies or the crew was prohibited, but someone from the crew slipped her a deck of cards. When she wasn''t sleeping, she played a variant of Solitaire as the hours slowly passed by. Twice they had made a quick stop, once the Captain had checked in on her. That was it.


    Without any idea how long she''d been on this frigate, they reached their destination. The young soldier accompanied her out on deck, the one that followed her under deck on the Golden Lily. It was as far as their acquaintance went. On deck most of the soldiers of the crew hurried about, dealing with their own tasks.


    Multiple similar sized ships lay next to the Marie Eclaire, further down Valentina spotted larger vessels, towering over the tiny frigates. Most definitely a military port. Behind her fortifications with probable armaments circled around the port, all illuminated by many many lamps. Buildings rose up on the shore into the distance and between them, busy streets lit by more street lamps. It made her wonder about electricity costs all of a sudden. In the distance, some hills held more settlements. She could see different light colours, too. Ranging from bright yellow into darker red or blue.


    Her escort nudged her on the shoulder with his hand, pushing her forward. She shut her mouth, after her jaw had fallen open at the marvels of this place. Somehow in her mind it had never been a busy, industrial age port but a dark, sad place with tons of candles and very few people. None of it hit the mark, instead this place seemed to be flourishing. Also, the Empire was at war, a good reason as any for an army to buzz about.


    They reached Captain First Grade Garton and another man in a suit. A black suit with a white shirt and a white and black bowler hat. This was ridiculous, who came up with these uniforms. Fortunately her grin was unnoticed by both men, both definitely of authority here. For the first time, the Uppersider met her fellow spies. One was a pretty, tall woman who wore her hair short and had green eyes as deep as the ocean. More akin to a prize than a spy, but appearances could deceive, so she shrugged and eyed the other person. A wiry fellow, wild red hair and beard and seemed to have been in a street brawl once too often. Who were they searching for? Add herself to the mix, they probably collected everybody who didn''t properly clear up during inspection. A real spy wouldn''t get caught like this. A real spy had backing and a proper plan to infiltrate. This was stupid.


    "Ah, finally. I can be rid of you now. Can''t say it was a pleasure. Inspector!", Garton sighed, waved to the man in the suit and walked over to a soldier saluting to him. They exchanged words and went back under deck. "Now", he clapped once with gloved hands, "I am the Inspector", the man paused dramatically, and very different to Garton. He radiated danger, through authority and body language, as if he could rip anyone apart with a click of his fingers. No other soldiers remained and her fellow spies made no move on the man, he may indeed be dangerous. She decided to just follow along for now, for one she wasn''t a spy, so what were they going to do, kill every random person? A shiver ran down her spine. Maybe they would do exactly that.


    Sweaty palms gripped the gangplank as she followed the Inspector to a coach. A very loud tractor rumbled in front of it, a young lad reclining regally on top. Amidst hundreds of soldiers and workers, resupplying the docked ships, the group of four boarded the coach and sat opposite another. The Underside rarely saw rain, she assumed, so there was little need for a roofed vehicle. It gave her a good view of the trip. After a jolt, the tractor rumbled onward along the a gravel track that didn''t quite deserve the term ''road''. Every couple of meters a dim lamp stood on the edge of the track.


    "As you can imagine, you are not the first group of irregularities", the Inspector started to address the alleged spies, "and you won''t be the last. Most likely you are not sent to undermine the Empress or sabotage our military or economy. Regardless, you will undergo the same interrogation and testing as everybody else". He folded his hands and glared at Valentina in particular, "We will find out why you were trying to reach French Sicily. Rest assured, there will be no mistakes".


    The Uppersider heard the statement that could double as a threat. It didn''t come as a surprise, but it hit the mark anyhow. Her hands were still sweaty and her gaze uneasily shifted across the barely illuminated countryside. They were still within the military compound, since further away the amount of lights multiplied. Her fellow accused didn''t react at all, the woman sitting with a straight back, staring into the distance with an empty gaze and the wiry guy wore a mad grin. Amazing, those two looked like they''ve been caught and interrogated before. How the fuck did I get here?


    Images of her execution flickered before her eyes and her breathing became erratic. The Inspector started laughing, "Good, a bit of fear will make it easier!". Valentina wasn''t amused, instead considered jumping off the coach and run into the darkness. So far nothing that she had seen made her believe that they expected an escape. Absentmindedly her foot poked through the hole under the low gate through which they had entered the coach. Her eyes darted through the dark space.


    Suddenly a firm grip clasped her wrist and the Inspector was in front of her face. His eyes glowed with a mad danger, "Attempting to escape will not be tolerated, Miss Neubauer. It will not end well for you!". Reluctantly she nodded at him and he let go, sitting back comfortably. Both gloved hands straightened out his suit and corrected the hat a tiny notch. She exhaled and fought tears. How did he know? Mind reading? Was that why the others just sat there? Her hands gripped her thighs, nails digging into the thick fabric of her pants. Just stay calm, she repeatedly told herself in her mind. Eventually it started to work and her breathing became normal, but her fear didn''t subside. And so she waited. Something that she had done for days now.

 5: Simple Plans

    "And what does a marketing manager do exactly?", the man sitting across the table asked impatiently, the pen tapping loudly against the metal. He glanced at her across the thick glasses on his nose. His voice carried a sneer and lack of care that left her astonished as to why someone would do this job if they hated it so much.


    Valentina had her forehead on the edge of the table and rubbed her eyes, sleep almost consuming her as she sat in the rectangular, cold room. It''s been hours. Hours since they arrived at some ministry building. The Inspector had dropped them off in the capable hands of some official, and a group of guards, armed to the teeth. The trio had been lead through an underground complex into different rooms. Regret washed over her now. Sleep was available in abundance on the Marie Eclaire, yet somehow it didn''t occur to her to cease the opportunity when it had presented itself to her. She yawned.


    For a governmental seat, the ministry was small. Comparing it to the Palazzo del Quirinale would probably be too much to ask, yet the ministry building and the Empress'' palace entrance were directly adjacent, extended further by additional ministries on the other side of the palace. Maybe French Sicily was more akin to small countries, Luxembourgh came to mind here, and the title "Empress" was misleading as to its power and reign. The Uppersider wasn''t convinced. Forming her ideas and drawing conclusions had been a tough task, not only increased in difficulty by her mind becoming increasingly tired. Since arrival she''d only seen this room. Food hadn''t been provided, just water, that tasted stale and old. The official opposite of her was number three, name and title unknown, the questions had been the same.


    Official C, as she had started to call the third iteration of the protocol droids, stopped tapping and glared at her intently. "Miss Neubauer!", he repeated. Valentina lifted her head and looked at the man with bloodshot eyes, "Yeah?". "What does a marketing manager do exactly!", the words were uttered without accent. A sigh escaped her. "Third time''s the charm. A marketing manager''s roles differ between companies, but in general they plan campaigns to increase the sales of a product and support the development of a company''s image", a headache built inside her head, intensity largely dependent on how much her eyes focused on Official C. "Your description seems to vary, every time you give it. It seems to me that this job is a fabrication", the bookworm concluded when he compared notes with Official A and B. "Of course, genius. If you had Wikipedia, I could quote that. Not to mention that the Underside lacks any context to understand the need to have this job", her tone grew in both volume and frustration, "No one has ever heard of market and marketing research, your economy is still stuck in the industrial revolution or something".


    Both eyebrows shot up at the outburst. Not Official C, or any other, had heard her explode until now. Scribbling into a free section on his documentation, the pen made some scratching noises. C''s lungs produced a rasping sound and he coughed repeatedly. The dampness of these underground rooms must get to people working here. Part of her felt sorry for the guy. "You will have to explain market research, marketing research and industrial revolution to me", he calmly noted and glanced at her across the thick glasses again. When her fingers pushed into her hair, the rubber holding it into a pony tail came loose and her unwashed mane fell down. It felt oily to her, definitely required extensive care otherwise the brunette colour would gloss black and repulse her. "For fucks sake, send me someone with an economic background. Maybe they will be able to make heads and tails from this...", it clanged loudly as her forehead slammed against the edge of the table, mind and body unable to go on.


    ***


    When she had fallen asleep multiple times on the table while discussing with an economic adviser to the Empress, they finally granted her a bed. Turned out that this world wasn''t nearly as hopeless and outdated as first assumed. The Underside had made a remarkable amount of inventions, industrial revolution a distant past for them as well. Somehow they lacked radio technology, cable-based technology was in high demand. Plans had been made to put undersea cables between islands, too. Many of their advances were already better than whatever the Europeans had in the 1940s, especially when it came to naval technology. Most islands were small and required little transportation across land, Sainte Monique as one of the largest inhabited islands being one outlier. According to the adviser each island produced and improved their own goods, news of which travelled by word of mouth. Consumerism worked differently here, people directly ordered from the source by employing a merchant who would not only guarantee a rate, but also take care of pickup and delivery. Without a concentration of the population in larger cities, stockpiling made no sense, especially with the inhabitants spread across so many islands. Her memory returned to the map that Whitebeard had shown her. It made sense to her.


    Luckily the adviser hadn''t been stupid. He immediately caught onto the idea that a producing island could essentially send advertisements through merchants into larger populated areas to increase demand. Scepticism prevailed however when she suggested that island dwellers could visit far away islands to do research and create advertisements specifically designed for these islands. "Wouldn''t that be manipulative?", he had asked her. Only response she had to offer was a shrug and a weak grin. Marketing was always manipulative. At least this debate had convinced Official C, the adviser''s intrigued questions helped, that she was no spy. Her origin as an Uppersider had circumstantial evidence now, enough of that to let her rest up.


    Sleep came to her quickly and didn''t hold any surprises. It was dreamless and they allowed her to wake up on her own. Valentina rolled to the side and groaned in pain. Many muscle groups all over her back ached. No one prepared her body for sleeping in thick, warm work clothes on a hard, small plank bed. "Hear hear, sleepin'' beauty''s awake!", a male voice echoed into her tiny cell. When they had brought her in, her brain didn''t register it, sleep deprivation the biggest concern. A quick glance around made her realise, it was a small cell. Barred window and door, plank bed, bucket, that was it. In a corner she found her bag of clothes, dirt clung to the fabric of the bag. Someone had shoved it across a similarly dirty floor, probably even in this cell. A grimace appeared on her face and her body made her aware that she needed to follow nature''s call. "Too good for us, eh?", the voice taunted her and two more unknown let out a giggle.


    Relieved, Valentina sat on the plank bed, back resting against the wall and retied her pony tail. The hair felt dirty now, just dirty. "Probably am, but don''t let that stop you!", the Uppersider yelled and met laughter. Another person, a dark female voice probably, said, "Don''t mind Rain, he''s just good at hitting stuff. Looks like they kept you a lot longer than us. And here I thought Rain here was the spy!". "Righta, typical of y''all. Turn against the one guy!", Rain sneered and another female voice laughed, it was high pitched and felt unusual, "Serves you right!", then the pronunciation and pitch changed drastically before the woman continued, "Should''a learned a different profession, mate". "Who the hell are you people?", Valentina interrupted them, curious and irritated at the same time.


    The woman who had spoken first responded while Rain just grunted, miffed, "You''ve met Rain and me on the Marie Eclaire already. I am Janet. And the snarky one? That''s Madison". Rain added with a grumble, "Both are snarky. Wish they''d make up their mind who''s speaking". "Uh, nice to meet you all? I''m Valentina", she ignored Rain''s comment and introduced herself instead with a kind smile, one hidden behind the cell walls. "Nice to meet you", Madison said with a high pitch and then added in lower volume, "Likewise". The Uppersider frowned at the response, something Janet seemed to have guessed, "Madison is two people in one body, Valentina. You''ll get used to them". Rain chuckled, "As if!". Valentina assumed that the person had a severe case of schizophrenia. Or something similar. Two people in a single body, switching at a whim. Today started out different from how she could''ve imagined.


    The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    ***


    For some unknown reason, no one else joined their little quartet for a day. No one got taken, no one brought in additionally. They received food, that tasted bland and reminded her of childhood when her mother cooked a mix of veggies and tubers. Prison food probably wasn''t healthy, while her mother''s food was healthy. Melancholy took a hold of her. Lately her mind wandered less often to her previous life, stress and pressure occupying her brain most of the time. Now that an image of her mother flashed before her mental eyes, she thought of Alessia and Greta, of Uncle Remi and mother, of her old life. By the time she pulled out of it, someone unlocked the door. Two guards equipped with a sword on the belt and a gun at the ready. They pointed at her dirty sack of clothes and she shouldered it, "Am I gonna get out of here now? Wouldn''t mind that!". Both guards said nothing. Outside of the cell, a dimly lit hallway lead to an open door. Rain, the wiry readhead, Janet, the tall beauty, and a bald woman in a jumpsuit, probably Madison, were already lined up and when she joined them, they walked.


    While all of them were prisoners, somehow no one put restraints on them. No cuffs, no nothing. Were they this confident in their abilities? Wasn''t that a thing in the French Sicily? Valentina had no answers. They climbed many stairs, moved along hallways and through a large double door into a court room of sorts. Above them all, a bright, huge chandelier hung. An elevated platform with a table stood at the far end. Seated behind it was an old, bearded geezer in black robes. Even more elevated, behind the geezer, a statue of a muscular woman in a battle garb stood. Her demeanour was superior, calm and gentle at the same time. A sword hung from her garb, a rolled up scroll held by one hand and an open book in the other. Did they have a different version of Justicia? Valentina didn''t know. They were ushered onto a single, wide bench in front of the geezer, who barely noticed them.


    "Right right. More spies", the geezer mumbled and looked up, letting his gaze sweep across the four. All guards stood attention slightly behind them. She could feel their eyes on her back. Since she''d never been to a court room before, she had no idea how it felt for justice to be passed onto someone. All hair at the back of her neck stood up and a weird tingling sensation crept over her arms. "I''ll be swift about it. By the laws instilled upon the citizens of French Sicily and the power granted to me by the Empress, you will serve your military service in a government owned mine. Are there any questions?", the man told them, bored and already moving on to the next stack of paper. "Well yes! I am not a citizen of French Sicily, nor am I a spy. Why do I need to do military service? How is this justice?", Valentina exclaimed, almost jumping from the bench, ready to rush at the old man.


    The geezer looked up, an emotionless expression on his face, "We cannot risk potential spies to roam our lands. We are at war. It matters not where you come from, you are now here and therefore our laws take precedence". With a wave of his hand, the guards approached. The Uppersider was about to respond when Janet put her hand onto her shoulder and shook her head. The woman''s blue eyes glittered with defiance. She nodded and calmed herself. Both hands clenched into fists, they walked back out into a hallway. One guard lead the way followed by Valentina and Madison, then another guard walking before Rain and Janet. Three more brought up the rear.


    Anywhere they had gone inside the ministry had been a maze. Valentina''s sense of directions were not the best, but this place was insane. Their way followed a different route, taking multiple twists and turns. Since their path to the court room had taken them up many flights of stairs, they descended them again in a different stairwell. When someone approached the guard in front of her, she realised how few officials had actually passed by them. If her memory didn''t betray her, not a single one. Everybody they had seen scurried away in a different direction.


    "Make way", the guard commanded, but the person, a rather muscular man with a smirk on his lips didn''t even dream of stepping aside. The Uppersider could smell it and turned around to see Madison do the same. A surprised look flashed across the other guard''s face when Madison punched him directly into his nose and followed with a left hook that hit his jaw. The timing was perfect. All three guards behind Rain and Janet were still around the corner on the previous flight of stairs and could only hear something, but not see what was happening. The guard in front of Valentina suddenly startled her and she squeaked in surprise as he fell against her legs. Whoever the man was, he had taken out the other guard. Two guards squeezed around the corner, weapons at the ready, aiming at any hostile with trained precision. They took in the scene before them. Her eyes widened when Valentina found herself in the middle of two unconscious guards. They would shoot her, they were convicted to forced labour. A grunt and a thump came from upstairs. One guard spun around, just to get hit in his face. Rain''s scarred arm wrapped around the last remaining guard while Madison kicked the gun aside. Then it was done. Not a single shot fired, the advantage of surprise won the day. Except¡­ how the hell would they escape this place? They were in a ministry for goodness sake! Guards and officials everywhere.


    Fortunately she didn''t have to find a solution to this. Their saviour, the man who started this, pulled three robes from his backpack that resembled his own. Madison, Janet and Rain became officials in a jiffy and didn''t look as out of place as before. They also took the guns and hid them under their garments. "Who''s she?", the man mumbled in a dark, rusty voice while handing them a stack of documents and books from his backpack before closing and shouldering it again. Janet was the one to explain, "Another alleged spy, can''t leave her here, name''s Valentina". "Walk next to me, look like I''m leading you around, Rain, you take the rear. Janet, Mad, lead the way. It''s just straight, then down, first right and we''re golden", the man said and everybody followed. Was he the leader of the group? Valentina wanted to asked, but when they already started walking, she bit her lip and stayed silent.


    Janet followed the instructions to the letter, Madison walked next to the beautiful woman and kept mumbling to herself in a low tone. They turned their first right and slowly opened the door, then slipped inside. Everyone followed, carefully and quietly. From the cold, barely lit hallways they stood on the balcony of a large hall. Lights flickered everywhere. By now she had gotten used to the different type of lamps used here, never producing a stable, bright light but behaving similar to a candle. As if the electricity powering them couldn''t keep the same current.


    Both Madison and Janet had a pained expression on their faces as they sat behind the intricate railing, hiding from whomever was below. Rain grimaced in unison with the other man. "Reel, you fucked up. You realise who''s down there?", Janet whispered barely loud enough for them to hear. Reel flinched when a regal voice echoed through the hall. Peering through the small gaps of the railing, Valentina saw a throne-like chair with a person seated on top. Along the wall sat at least a dozen fancily dressed men and women and a long, grey carpet lead opposite to the throne into the room, ending about halfway. Multiple guards stood along the sides, each equipped with guns, spears, swords and other weaponry. While her saviours were discussing options in a quiet whisper, her mind still tried to process how fucked they were, a howling noise filled the room. All guards turned serious and gripped their weapons tighter, the Empress barely reacted and all her fancy counsellors stood up, worry plastered over their faces. Someone had triggered the alarm.

 6: Glints own luck

    A quick glance over the shoulder revealed a heated discussion between Reel and Janet. Both stayed quiet, they body language utilised to convey their frustration, anger and panic. Valentina''s fingers slid into holes of the intricate marble design as her eyes swept across the room once more.


    Now the woman on the throne rose majestically. A wide, long-sleeved dress unfolded, lined in black and white. It hugged her torso like a corset and flared out. A remnant of Victorian ball dresses as it seemed. Black hair tied into a bun behind her head, silvery earrings, a long neck. She assumed the Empress had to be quite beautiful. Yet a mask hid her face. One resembling the captain stripes on Captain First Grade Garton''s uniform. Finally she made the connection, one half of the mask showed a white jester and the opposite a black executioner or justice. Quite the depiction of power and responsibility of a ruler, thoughts of Louis the Great and Napolean came to her, thoughts she pushed away into the distance again.


    Additional military personnel, armed and scanning the room intently, entered through a side door and spread out in the room. Some guards glanced up, sweeping the balconies. Her hand pulled back, scared that her fingers could be seen, despite the thick balcony railing.


    Reel and Janet no longer argued and waved her over. The group cowered in a circle. "We''ll use the confusion to sneak out. Aegis emergency protocol dictates to secure and lead out civilians, but by now they may have noticed us missing. We have no identification, all we can do is trust our luck. Stay close, make no sound and let Janet and me handle this", Reel explained quietly. His gaze lingered on everyone in turn, only moving on when he could see determination and a nod.


    The Uppersiders hands were trembling now, heart thumping in her head, pearls of sweat glittering on the forehead. Janet squeezed her hand, a pull back into reality, into the here and now. Their eyes met and Valentina shifted uneasily. "Trust us. We''ll get you out!", the woman with those fascinating blue eyes reassured her.


    Click. It barely could be heard when Reel opened the door through which they had entered. He peered through the gap, stuck his head out and opened it fully. One by one the group left the throne room, ducked, hidden from the guards below. She was last and just to be safe, glanced left and right before following the others. Down the balcony, near another door, the Empress stood and look at her. Valentina almost shrieked in surprise, both hands trapped the sound inside her mouth. Averting the eyes from the ruler of French Sicily felt impossible. Her eyes peered at the woman, through the woman even, as what she thought was a person shifted slowly. Morning fog felt quite as dense as the apparition floating at the end of the balcony. Thin strands of mist leaked and dissipated. The ghost stared back at her until it suddenly tilted its head, a mockery of the jester.


    With a final swirl, a shallow breeze carried the apparition away and nothing remained. The Uppersider blinked and ran her hand across her face. Was she dreaming? Had that been real? Irritated, she stood up and peered down at the throne. Again their gazes met, except this time she faced the Empress herself, who had not needed to turn her head, expectant and certain that Valentina would appear behind the railing. Long seconds passed until something twisted in her stomach. Something was wrong and to survive, she needed to run.


    "Shoot her, you fools!", the Empress screamed. It echoed through the large room, bone shattering pitch and volume. She twitched, ducked and ran into the hallway as a hail of bullets crashed into the marble balcony and wall tiles where she had stood a moment ago. She ran. Down the corridor that Janet and Reel had gone. Multiple hallways created intersections, she just passed them in the hopes of finding the others. Down the stairs, was she on the ground floor now? Uncertain she decided to run into another corridor. In the distance was movement, people crossing from left to right. Hadn''t the throne room been on the left? Gritted teeth drowned the frustration of having a crappy sense of orientation. Another group rushed across the hallway, her back pressed against a closed door to avoid anyone seeing her. Unfortunately she had lost the others.


    Eventually she decided to follow the direction that every group had taken. On the next turn right at an intersection she followed the corridor. While other intersections had provided a way left, this one didn''t. Maybe no one would come at her from behind. If someone did, she wouldn''t be able to hide quick enough, she was sure of that. With quiet steps the Italian made her way into the building complex. Silence spread, only the sound of shallow breathing was left. Soldiers, guards, officials, everyone must have left. It also seemed that the alarm had stopped. Did they find and catch the others?


    Another stairwell. Up, down or turn back? Sounds echoed behind her, so she dashed up, around the corner and crashed hard into a person. Despite her momentum, she stopped dead and even fell backward onto her ass. "Ouch!", she complained and looked up. "What an interesting surprise, Miss Neubauer", the Inspector had both his arms behind his back and stared down at the woman with an amused smile on his lips, "I had thought you''d escape with the others, but this is indeed a surprise. Maybe we can use this". His musings were hard to follow, especially while her mind sought for a way out. Downstairs more noise and shouts appeared, this option had to be discarded. She tried to peer past the man, since the way up seemed to be free. Yet she had to get past the Inspector, who had managed to read her mind on the coach before.


    Uncertainty and fear all over her face, she hissed, "Just let me go! I didn''t do anything to you!". "Oh, Miss Neubauer, I already know that you''re no spy. Don''t take me for a fool", the man calmly explained. Valentina pushed herself up. The pain from falling down two stairs onto her bum made her wince. "Why take me then! I didn''t ask for this, I don''t want to work in the mines!", curiosity and anger burst out from deep inside. "I think we can use you. You''re not as dumb as the ministry assumed. And her majesty, the Empress, I think she noticed, too. Yes, I think we can. Come, walk with me", the Inspector left her dumbfounded and turned on the heel, step by step ascending the stairs to the next floor. His hands cracked as he clenched them into a fist. The Uppersider flinched and followed, keeping her distance. That man could choke her in an instant. And he knew it.


    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    ***


    Their path lead them down a hallway that looked exactly the same as every other. "You must wonder what I want from you. Don''t fret, my dear Miss Neubauer. It is indeed quite simple, you see. The others, the group that tried to rescue you, at least one spy is amongst them. Possibly more. They threaten the Empire, they are even the reason why we went to war, you see", he said, beside her as they kept walking. "You want me to find out who it is?", she wondered, eyes keen on finding a moment to escape, but scared of what he might do if she tried. Ever since seeing the ghost of the Empress, cold sweat stuck to her forehead and her heart beat audibly inside her ears. Signs of adrenaline.


    The Inspector chuckled, then placed a firm hand on her shoulder, squeezing it through the thick jacket. The soft voice felt more threatening than ever before, "That, and what they are after. You see, the Empress thinks de Borst sent them, that fool. I am not so sure". He scratched his chin and gave her some space, then continued, "The more we know, the earlier we can end the war. Oh, we are here!". To their left a door like every other swung open when he turned the handle. It was his office. Under a dim ceiling lamp that turned on with the flick of a switch, she found a messy desk, barely enough room to squeeze to the other side and sit on the chair. Everything drowned in stacks of papers and books. The man was a true master of chaos, if that was how he liked to work efficiently.


    Luckily the desk lamp was brighter than the miserable lamp above them. His hands dug something from a drawer and he placed it in front of her. "What''s that?", her hand reached for the coin but his hand covered it fully. "A Duality Coin. A special one", he explained, but it hardly explained anything. The frown seemed to convince him of her ignorance, so he sighed and leaned back, holding up the coin into the light.


    "The Uppersider story wasn''t a cock-and-bull story then. Very well, Miss Neubauer. Duality Coins are our currency", he showed the two faces of the coin, "It shows the Empiric Duality, but this one is special. Special enough to identify you as the Eye of Clarity". Slowly Valentina caught on, but tried not to show it. The longer the explanation went, the more annoyed the Inspector got. Payback was a bitch, and she''d deliver justice. At least partially.


    While rubbing his temples, he groaned, "We are the Eye of Clarity", hands gestured around him, "We uproot the threats, prevent wars and calm the tempers. We are the quiet hand of Hess, deliver Gredfall''s touch and bask in Manjet''s Kismet. We are the first and last defence of the Empire!". The Uppersider blinked. Did he just quote their manifesto? Somehow she expected the Freemason to be part of this. The thought curled the corners of her mouth upwards, but before he could complain, she nodded, "So basically you''re the secret service, the coin is your badge and you want me to join your gang of spies to figure out who wants the Empire and Duchy at war?".


    Silence laid on the room while the Inspector considered her response. Finally he chuckled, "I like you, Miss Neubauer. And in case you might wonder, we pay our employees handsomely. After a probation period, which when completed, will allow you to be employed fully and receive your pay retroactively". "Of course, you''re not even taking a risk, since I am no spy. The others have gotten away, I am your ticket into the group, should I succeed you win, should I fail you lost nothing. Is that about right?", she concluded and leaned back. This conversation reminded her of work, of handling management, of negotiations with third parties. Experience allowed her to calm down, both of them needed something and if she played this right, this would go well for her.


    The Inspector seesawed his hand and grinned, "Except that we both win. I might prevent many soldiers and civilians from meeting Gredfall in person, you will not see the mines and get to travel the Underside. So what''s your answer? We cannot dabble forever or your escapees will be too far to catch". In response she reached with her right hand to shake his, but he frowned and shifted his gaze between the hand, which arguably was quite dirty, and her face. "You shake it! It''s a contract. Where I come from, you shake hands on making a deal", Valentina laughed and he smirked at her when he shook her hand.


    ***


    Three coins in her pocket, Valentina walked through a side entrance used to deliver supplies into the ministry. Which ministry exactly, she didn''t know. With the help of the Duality Coin, the guards behind the door, preventing an escape, had allowed her to pass through without a fuss. How everyone knew what to look for was a mystery, especially how this coin wasn''t a security risk.


    After some inquiries, the Inspector had figured out that her group''s lead was barely five minutes. They had taken a long time to find a way out. Her senses told her, it was no accident that they managed to leave. Especially with her joining the ranks of the spies. To the question as to how she was supposed to contact the Eye of Clarity, the Inspector had a brief and effective answer. Write and seal a letter with her coin and put it into a postbox. If a meeting was requested, leave a contact address and within a day someone would visit her. Simple. Still begged the question why these coins weren''t stolen often, it couldn''t be a secret if even she knew about it.


    Around the corner of the building she found her bearings and dashed into the night across a rocky field. Adjusted to the darkness, her eyes scanned the ground for obstacles. In the distance rose the town of Dinard and behind it, hidden behind the dark silhouettes of its buildings, Dinard''s port. Hopefully her new employer had guessed right, under the cover of darkness and night where the town''s lights were dimmed and buildings unlit, a boat awaited them. To take them out into the ocean. Valentina had to catch the boat before it left, or she would have to find passage off Sainte Monique on her own.


    Panting and exhausted, the woman reached the outskirts of town. A short slope carried her up to the hilltop and the descending street down into the harbour area. Three boats, dark shapes floating at the pier, could be made out. Luckily the streets were quiet. She made haste and forced herself to carry onward. Bloody hell, she should''ve spent more time training back in Italy. At least the aching wounds from her fall from Glint''s Gate had healed.


    The closer she came to the dark shapes on the water, the more certain she grew that the smallest boat was being made seagoing. Multiple shapes moved on deck. This was her way out. Unfortunately the ropes had been untied and the gangplank removed. Desperate, she yelled over, "Janet! Janet! It''s me, Valentina!". "Manjet''s Kismet, you fucking made it!", Janet spoke in relief as she leaned over the reeling. "Let''s get you on board!"

 7: Damascus

    Three small towns were at a distance, just before the darkness swallowed them unceremoniously. The dots of lamps merged into a blurry glow. Within the Empire''s backwaters the density of islands increased, making navigation easier, just as it did travel and trade. On the Mercurial the group had travelled for two days, north. Many towns, and with them their islands, had passed by. Having made a course adjustment westwards, the consent amongst the crew had been to circle around to the western side of the Foggy Vortex and then make their way further south into the Duchy.


    The Uppersider leaned against the metal wall right next to the main bulkhead. With a deck unfit of temporarily piling up cargo, the Mercurial was smaller and designed differently to the Golden Lily. Its citadel reached from stern to bow and had two gangways at different elevations all around the ship. Every breath produced a small cloud of mist that dissipated in moments. Cold, almost frosty, air bit into her skin. She didn''t care anymore.


    Arms crossed before her chest, she saw the island furthest left disappear unnaturally into the darkness. Only the engine produced a noise, but just as light was swallowed by the darkness of the Underside, the same applied to sound. Unless someone crossed their path, they were safe and couldn''t be discovered. This made her highly uncomfortable, unlike everyone else who didn''t even think twice about this fact.


    When the Mercurial had left Dinard''s port and they were well on their way, leaving Sainte Monique behind them, Reel had gathered everyone on the bridge. At first she had looked intently on a map akin to the one Whitebeard had on the bridge, but couldn''t contribute much. Rain hadn''t said much either, he just grunted when he thought a good point had been made. As it turned out Madison''s two personalities had different skills, too. An engineer and a navigator. Good for Madison, bad for them, since the woman couldn''t be in two places at once. Reel and Janet debated for more than an hour how to get around the Aegis'' southern blockade. Both seemed to have more intel, but were not willing to share. Especially Reel was quite cryptic in his arguments. More reason not to engage, she had decided.


    When they had finally agreed on something, Rain summed up the plan with a frown, "So y''all want to go the long way round and sell additional fleet information to the Bronze Guard once you run into them further south?". Staying quiet about it, Valentina smelled how fishy this was all across the room. How did they end up on Sainte Monique if they just wanted to provide some intel to the Bronze Guard? Ironically that made them spies.


    She shook her head and watched another island disappear. Only one blob of light remained now, but another one suddenly appeared further ahead. Next to her spot, the bulkhead squeaked open and Rain emerged. "''lo", he grunted and took a deep breath of ocean air. "Anything up?", Valentina wondered, half curious. "Janet and Reel are at it again. Discussing where to buy supplies. If ya ask me, something not right about this!".


    A moment and a half she took to consider his words. She might as well inquire about this, maybe voice her own concerns, "What makes you say that?". He buzzed, a raspy sound originating deep in his throat. Leisurely leaning against the railing, he mused, "Madison and me, we got picked up on a transport to Heraldic Fleet. Lookin'' for work, y''might imagine. Janet was already aboard. Some talk about catching her sneak around and do sabotage. Guess there was no proof, or she''d felt Gredfall''s touch already". Another buzz rumbled into the darkness and she just listened, albeit curious now.


    "Reel''s a weird one. Quiet, seen stuff, if y''ask me. He and Janet, think they belong to the same team. Not sure what''ll happen though. I got no love for two empires at war. I''d rather not get involved. Got no family ''ere, but Madison does. Down in the Duchy. She''s worried, y''know", Rain scowled and sighed, taking a small break, "We''re all marked by the Empire now. So we gotta get out".


    This made the Uppersider think again. Rain and Madison were looking for jobs, but Janet and Reel had something going, something big. The spy the Inspector had wanted to catch, it was most likely Janet. A sigh erupted into a cloud of mist. Rain had turned around and leaned on the railing with his elbows, staring into the darkness. "When we escaped, I saw something. Something weird", she muttered and leaned onto the railing in a similar fashion. "What did ya see?", he asked without showing much emotion. "An apparition of sorts? The Empress on the balcony, staring at me, as if she had been really there!". "And now you''re wondering what that was?", to which Valentina nodded, head turned towards him, "I see. T''was foul magicks! That''s what it was!". She raised an eyebrow and tried to process the statement, "You''re saying there is magic here. As in conjure ghost and fireballs?". The man laughed and ran his hand through his red hair. After eyeing her from top to bottom, he laughed again, "''course there''s magicks! Not the fireball kind, mind ya. Some claim magick don''t exist, but there''s so much crazy shit in this place, can''t all be explained rationally!".


    To permit the idea that sorcery or magic was real, that was something that her scientific mind actively blocked. Much of what she had seen, the Sirens entangling her mind, the darkness swallowing light sources, nothing seemed to far fetched to be explained by science. Of course her abilities to figure it out and explain it, those abilities she lacked. The gods however, especially the mention of the old gods and that there were reports of them, or their Agents, reappearing, that wouldn''t be that easy to explain or to dismiss.


    The silence bothered Rain seemingly. He mused, "Don''t have to believe me, Valentina. You''ll find out yourself soon enough. As to what kind of magicks it was that the Empress used, probably a detection chant. Must''ve felt that we had been near. Magicks are subtle thing, y''see. Can help ya, but don''t solve yer problems for ya". Attention turned back to the blobs of light, Rain shrugged, stood up straight and stretched. "Get some sleep soon. Ten hours until landfall", he said and turned to head back inside. "Wait, landfall? Where?", she turned as well and almost reached out to stop him. "Idiots decided on Damascus. Tactically sound, sure. Solomonians got little love for the Empire, but they are fanatics. Hess be my witness, we''re walkin'' into trouble!".


    With that, Valentina stood alone on the gangway and pondered what she''d heard. Solomon belonged into the old testament, didn''t he? Son of David, became king later. More details eluded her, uncertain of whether she ever had known any in addition. And if Rain was right, any bible fanatics, no matter how far away from the earthen fanatics they lived, they always meant trouble.


    Regardless she looked forward to the first opportunity to leave the ship and walk on solid ground and not be hunted or locked up anywhere. Hopefully this wouldn''t turn into a huge disaster. Heeding Rain''s warning, it was time for some sleep.


    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    ***


    By the time Valentina woke, dressed and stepped outside, the Mercurial approached a growing island. At first nothing could be seen except blurry lights, but the closer they got, the clearer the details became. Next to her leaned Janet, Reel and Rain. Madison made sure they''d arrive safely, from the bridge. Rain refused to leave the Mercurial as well, mumbling about fanatics and hiding his frustration in his beard and behind a long sigh. "Stay with us and you''ll be fine. They are a weird bunch, and they don''t haggle for prices, either! Remember that. Solomonians find that very offensive behaviour", Janet told the Uppersider casually. "What are we going to purchase then?", she wondered and Reel explained, "Some food, fuel and most importantly equipment. Don''t hate me for it, but your jumpsuit stinks. It needs a wash, but we have no spares for anything!".


    Seeing the problem this crew was facing, she nodded and pursed her lips. Damascus had a small port, two small vessels at the pier and a myriad of different sized houses grew up a slope. On top of the hill stood a cathedral. Gothic influences, maybe Romanesque even. If that was true, this island was old. Very old.


    Even the dimly lit streets and buildings couldn''t hide how busy this place was. Further in seemed to be a market place, attracting anyone that wanted to do some shopping. The cathedral towered above all, relishing in stronger green spotlights. This clear favouritism showed the priorities here. On the pier, a labourer of the port caught a thick rope that Rain threw down and tied it. With a small jerk, the rope caught the drag and they were still.


    Down the gangplank they went. She turned and waved at Rain with a smile, who nodded at her and leaned against the metal wall just as Madison emerged from the bulkhead. Before them a robed man appeared, quickly striding towards the newly arrived. "Praised be thy lord, dear travellers. What brings you to Damascus?", the man asked assertively. Valentina caught up to the group, just as Janet explained, "Hello. We''ll be buying supplies, goods and fuel. Nothing to sell, unfortunately". The absence of a similar greeting left the man disgruntled, doing his very best to hide it. "Welcome then. Please be aware that any food we grow or process on Damascus will be taxed with a tenth if you decide to bring it aboard your ship. Find me in the port authority building once you intend to leave. May the almighty guide you, travellers", he concluded and scurried off again.


    "What do they grow here? In all this darkness?", the Uppersider wondered. Janet snickered, "Herbs, mushrooms and patata. They also dry some herbs, for pipe weed. Whiskbrew is also made here. As far as I am told, they grow more but don''t sell it. All of them are vegetarian. Makes their diet risky, but somehow they survive. Guess it works for them". That surprised her quite a bit. No animals to eat here, with this little amount of variety on vegetables and mushrooms? It left her wondering.


    The locals avoided them and circled around them quickly. Local fashion was restricted to a garb that resembled a long-sleeved dress or jacket and skirt. None of them wore pants or a hat, instead they had long hair, bound behind their heads and some had long beards. All the buildings were made of wood and had tiny windows without glass. Thick curtains were behind the openings and shutters could be closed in addition. The street was simply treaded down mud, hard from decades it seemed, for a lack of rain just made it unnecessary to pave everything.


    ***


    Impossible to guess its size from the port, the market place hosted shops inside the buildings all around it and carts with fresh wares all across it. Valentina counted 30 carts and stopped out of boredom. There were far more than 30. It was the heart of the city, hundreds of inhabitants rushing about, carrying baskets with necessities they had bought.


    She followed Reel and Janet into a shop. A needle and yarn hung on the sign above it. The place smelled like wool and had a divider in the middle. Left side for purchasing fabrics and materials, right side for clothes. Her enthusiastic dash past her companions dried up when the wares unfolded in front of her. The same dresses and skirts that she''d seen everybody else wear. Distaste appeared all over her face. A lonely clerk was taken aback by her expression. "Don''t mind her, she''s not from here!", a friendly Janet pushed past the Uppersider and continued, "Sorry, haven''t even said Hello! We need five sets, three my size, one his size and one her size. Robust, warm and layered".


    Pushing the clerk forward, Janet left Reel and Valentina behind. "I''ll be over, getting us some fuel. Wanna come?", the man with his long hair in a rather feminine bun suggested, but she shook her head, "I''ll try on the jacket and skirt combo if I can". "Suit yourself, Val", he shrugged and left. Val? Are we friends now? She frowned and glanced over her shoulder just as Reel left the shop. Somehow she didn''t mind.


    "I know that a dress would be warmer, but I think the jacket and skirt combination will be more practical! Especially when layering a shirt or two underneath!", Janet argued, holding up two cream coloured shirts that could be tugged into the skirts. "I stick to my council, Miss, but I can also see your point", the clerk pulled a jacket from a cupboard, then his eyes shifted to look at the Uppersider, "We also provide a laundry service, Miss". Her cheeks blushed deep red. It was this obvious, huh. "Thanks, but I think I''ll just change into a set of shirt, jacket and skirt here, if that''s alright with you". With a nod, the clerk turned to Janet, who had started to gather a stack of shirts and jackets, followed by skirts. Shopping seemed to be quite easy, if your fashion choice was between dark blue, black, cream and warm, warmer and volcanic. A minute later, she had a stack of thick, woollen clothes on her hands.


    A memory of the sack of clothes on the ship returned to her. One bra, too few panties. And someone else was paying, too! "Say, do you have panties and bras?", she inquired casually. Much to her surprise, this brought a rosy colour onto the clerk''s cheeks. Ah right, religious fanatics. Sure. "We have underwear, yes. What is a bra?", he stammered and Valentina pointed at her chest, which was hidden under her thick jacket from her merchant friends. "Ah, follow me, if you will", he gestured for her to follow him and they entered another area through a very small, open door. To her surprise, underwear didn''t follow the same dreadful blandness that the dresses outside did. Sizing was also quite interesting, as they had three general sizes, she presumed she had the middle size here, of panties. All of them had strings on the side to fit them to your own needs, similar to certain bikinis which she''d worn back in Italy. The bras were, unsurprisingly, more like a corset mixed with a strap top. On first glance at least. Again they featured three sizes. Two had pre-shaped cups and one didn''t. They were laced up at the back and the front, therefore could be adjusted individually. To her surprise, the cup sizes started at around a D or E cup. Anything below was supposed to live without shaping. Somehow these folks down under had solved certain problems better than all of market capitalism had back home.


    Dressed in a completely new outfit, including her underwear, she emerged from the changing room and wiggled her arms. The sleeves were too long. Yet they had no time to wait for adjustments. It was fine though. Janet giggled and shrugged, knowing she''d look similar very soon as well. Back home, this was an abomination, guaranteed to leave you a virgin forever. Different times, different problems. Valentina smirked and carried a stack of spare underwear and her old, stinky clothes under her arm as Reel came back and chuckled, "You look like...". The man stopped himself, keeping the comment for later. The Uppersider showed him the middle finger, but he only raised his eyebrows. Ah damn, seriously!

 8: Running errands

    Old, stinking clothes stuffed into a jute sack, dangling from a strap over Valentina''s shoulder, she glanced around the market square. It was their fifth visit to a merchant, a collection of offers for different types of supplies and food. Basic medical equipment, crates of mushrooms and tuber, the list was long and she had little patience to barter for prices. Her presence wasn''t required and left her standing behind Reel and Janet as they took turns in increasing pressure to reduce prices or throw in a gimmick or two.


    After all three of them had changed into local clothes, looking as bland as everybody else, people didn''t avoid them by moving around an invisible circular force field. Barely anyone sent them a second glance. The Uppersider didn''t belong here. None of them did. Yet the difference between the minority, the outsiders who were considered strange, weird and dangerous enough to scurry around in a dash, and fitting visually into the grander picture was astonishing.


    Understanding currency had been on her list ever since they made landfall. There were three silver coins in her pocket. Duality Coins. Janet had paid the clerk in the clothing store with a single silver coin. There was change being returned! Either the economy on this rock was completely broken or the Inspector had handed her a fortune. Reel looked at her with raised eyebrows when she asked about the worth of a Duality Coin, but explained briefly after listening to her plead for a minute or so. Duality Coins had three variations. No hole, small hole and big hole, whereas exchange rates were not linear. Fifty with a big hole could be exchanged for a small holed coin, whereas 10 of the latter would be worth a regular coin without a hole. This also gave them their names. Respectively they were called a fifty, a ten and a coin. Unfortunately the Duchy had a different system, many of the islands in the far west had their own currency as well, it must be a headache for any trader.


    To report back to the Inspector, she needed paper, pen and envelopes. When the negotiations for drinking water took longer than any other they had had, Reel grumpily pointed her over to the road up the slope, eventually leading to the cathedral. She''d find a dedicated shop for paper and writing utensils somewhere there. Her feet shuffled through atop the mud until she reached the road that lead from the port up the slope. Lighting became brighter and more colourful in this district. Both housing and shops felt different, prestigious and had a certain pomp to it. Many craftsmen producing everyday goods resided around the market square. Between tall houses, small paths squeezed through into backyards. Hammering could be heard from one such road. On the house front hung a sign which she interpreted as some smithy. Either for gold, silver or copper. It looked quite expensive, the carpentry on the door delicate and the wood emanating a majestic, expensive feel.


    She reached a crossing about halfway to the top. More expensive craftsmen had their shops along the road. Luckily she spotted a sign with a feather carved into it, just across the road. On entering, a small bell above the door announced her arrival. Multiple ceiling lamps produced a generous, warm light. Most of it however concentrated on a large desk that showcased different pens. At least that was her assumption that they were pens. An old man in brown robes with a long, white beard stepped around a bookshelf with scrolls and stacks of parchment. The stereotype was strong in this one, she giggled to herself and let her gaze sweep across the room. "Greetings, traveller. May the lord be with you. How can this humble old man help you today?", he muttered, and sounded about as ancient as he looked. Behind the desk, he stopped and put both hands down, leaning forward curiously. "Hello!", Valentina greeted the man and gave him a weak wave. Ah fuck, awkward! All this lord thing is giving me the creeps. "I need to write a couple of letters", to which the man nodded and snorted, this being a shop for this exact thing, "So I need envelopes, sealing wax or something similar, sheets of paper and a pen". "Any preference to the paper size or the pen?", he wondered, but she shook her head and stepped closer to look at the instruments of writing in front of him. "All these will serve you well, I believe. They have small ink compartments and the capacity to write half a book before you need to refill!", of course they would have fountain pens as their main choice of pen, who could blame them, but it didn''t matter, it just reminded her of school. "Not looking to become an author, I''m fine with a low end, cheap option", to which his hand picked up a wooden model and showed it to her, "How much is it? And can I try it?". "Why! Of course you can try it!", he threw up a paper with lots and lots of foreign scribbling. It reminded her that the books on the Marie Eclaire had been half French. Didn''t people write the languages that they spoke? For the first time since her arrival, it bugged her. Did Glint have something to do with her speaking English, yet everybody understood?


    After discarding this dilemma, she tried to write ''A frog ran through the jungle''. Holding the pen like she had learned in school didn''t work. The ink didn''t dispense equally and some letters had larger dots whereas some strokes lacked ink altogether. The clerk chuckled and took the pen from her hand, "Lean the hand to the side slightly, leave space for the ink to flow and do not put pressure when you stop and lift the tip", his ancient voice accompanied his exceptional calligraphy. This man was an artist. He could attend a haiku contest!


    On second try, the writing improved. Hand positioning felt quite off and uncomfortable, something everybody needed to get used to, not just Valentina. Grudgingly she admitted that she''d require more sheets to train. "Ten fifties for the pen, another ten fifties for the wax", he explained and put five envelopes and ten sheets on the table, "One fifty for each envelope, one fifty for five sheets. How many do you want?". She eyed the wax and picked it up. It felt different, looked different, "This is no wax that you need to melt under a candle, is it?". The man blinked at her, "Why would you put wax under a candle?". All he got in return was an embarrassed shrug. "It''s a wax stick. You rub it in a circle, repeatedly and a small coating of it sticks to the envelope, sealing it shut. Then you can press your seal into it, done. A post box is down at the port, in case you''re wondering", he smiled and in that moment she knew that with all the free information she had gotten, he wouldn''t haggle about the price.


    Valentina sighed and took the pen, which the old man refilled quickly, the wax, 20 sheets of paper and 6 envelopes. After handing him a silver coin, not the one marking her as a spy obviously, he returned nine tens and twenty fifties. Something Reel had failed to mention was the large difference in size between the coins, which she traced back to material value. "I''d need to write a short letter, too. Could I bother you to let me do it here? Your shop might be inspiring", she smiled at him, making him snort, "''course, dear traveller. Use the desk over there in the corner. Thank you again for your purchase, may the lord watch over you!".


    Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    The whole church business was still weird, but she started to get used to it. Everyone said it, on the market, in the shops, even the port officials did. Somehow Rain''s reluctance was tough to understand now. All these folks were doing was business and surviving, no one had caused any trouble for them. Gathering her thoughts toward the Inspector, a letter formed in her mind.


    Dear Inspector


    We made landfall in Damascus a couple of hours ago. A resupply stop to stock up on fuel, amenities and food. The plan now is to circle around the Foggy Vortex, trying to reach the Duchy to sell fleet intelligence gathered on the way.


    It smells fishy. Janet may well be the spy you were looking for. I''ll be in touch once we make landfall again, but it will be a while.


    Best,


    Valentina Neubauer


    When her eyes focused hard on the letters, they blurred in an odd way. It had occurred to her while writing already, but something glitched. Focus brought the letters into a different order, even made them look weird. Was she even writing English? Her mind played some trick on her now, but she couldn''t shake the feeling.


    Time to be off. Fold the letter into the envelope. Circle circle circle with the wax, press the coin onto it secretly, done. She rolled up the paper carefully and put it into her jute sack. Pen, wax and sealed envelope finding a home in her large pockets. After yelling her goodbye and receiving one in response, Valentina made her way outside. Unfortunately the coins in her pocket made noises. She''d need to ask the others about storage for those coins. Why couldn''t they just use bank notes? So much easier to store!


    ***


    Maybe it was time to head back. The crowd in the streets had thinned significantly and down on the market square some merchants packed up their stands. A huge dong reached her, rang through her and made her jump in surprise. What the flying fuck? Another dong followed. The cathedral bells tolled. Five times total, but it lacked context. Not even back in Italy she could remember how often the bells tolled for certain events. Except that during Sunday mass consecration demanded the bells to toll throughout.


    Had the colours changed since she looked at the huge building back on the Mercurial? It was possible. The lamps in this place, just like everywhere else, ranged between blue, red and green. Her steps led her along the road, uphill. Curiosity wasn''t easily dismissed, she found and followed it. To her surprise the building was surrounded by a graveyard, yet the road split and lead up to one large side door each, through the cemetery. A low wall surrounded the resting place of the dead and lead around the church as far as she could see. One of the doors into the cathedral stood open, the other closed.


    Intimidated by its sheer size, she let her eyes wander across it, slowly. Her guess about the Gothic architecture proved to be right. Pillars rose into the darkness above them, reaching ever higher. Only the two spires towered above them, one at the front and one at the back. Windows reached from above the doors all the way up, the pillars supported by arches attached to the main wall, each protected respectively by a gargoyle. Unlike earthen gargoyles, these ones resembled creatures like bats, worms and some even had tentacles. The imagination was inspired by the dangers everyone faced in their lives. Admittedly it was a marvellous piece of architecture, worth of protection and admiration just for this fact alone.


    Humbled by the house of god, even though it may well be a different god that she knew from the Catholic church, her steps took her into the place of worship through the open side door. Luckily it was empty, yet still lit. Spotlights along the wall showed paintings of pleading people, of armies and combat, of a radiance and light emanating from a person wearing a crown. All across the nave, wooden benches stood, row after row. Down to her right the altar rose upward. Her eyes followed it, all the way up the spire. That''s when her brain connected it. This cathedral had no roof, just the typical Gothic arched ceiling, as a marble frame holding the nave together.


    The Uppersider quietly sneaked onto the central path, leading from the main entrance with its closed, enormous, intricate doors to the altar, glanced upward and turned in a circle to take in the marvels of this cathedral. "A new face. Welcome, child. Allow me to welcome you, in the name of the lord and almighty to the Western Syriac Cathedral in Damascus", a calm voice startled her and caused her astonishment to end. Behind her, as if he had casually strolled down from the altar, a young man clad in black, long robes stood. His hands were tugged into his sleeves, which met before his waist, as if his hands were folded in secret. Despite being shorter than Valentina, only his eyes looked up at her, the rest of his demeanour slightly bowed, the eternal servant. "Oh, you startled me", she admitted, "A beautiful cathedral you have here". "Thank you, child. It is rare that travellers come to this place with an open heart and mind. My name is Francis. I am the preacher, the caretaker and the missionary", he told her with a very calm, yet assertive tone in his voice. His eyes bore holes into her own. This man hadn''t blinked a single time since she had first laid eyes on him.


    "Just a visitor, passing through Damascus though. I''m not here to stay", the Uppersider pointed out, setting the circumstances so the man wouldn''t try to convert her to his belief. "Yes, purchasing supplies for a long, dangerous voyage. Quite curious though", the man''s eyes flashed white for a brief moment. Had it been her imagination? "What''s curious?", she wondered, suddenly feeling a chill creep under her skirt. "A criminal, a sick child, a traitor, a soldier and a woman touched by Glint himself, taking a voyage across the Black Depth. I wonder if you all will accomplish what you seek to. If the gods will allow it", his face changed from benevolent to neutral and his eyes flashed white a second time. With it the chill left and vanished completely. Valentina squinted at the man and then peered left and right. "Safe travels, my child. Heed the lord almighty", Francis bowed slightly and as quietly as he had arrived, the man vanished through a door next to the altar.


    Confused and irritated, the Uppersider walked outside. Fanatics? Really? Somehow she didn''t quite believe it. Swift steps lead her down the hill, across the almost empty market square and she emerged next to the port authority building. Without much trouble, she found the post box and dropped the sealed letter to the Eye of Clarity. Part of her wished that she had waited until visiting the cathedral before writing to the Inspector, yet maybe some secrets shouldn''t just be given up that easily. Movement on the Mercurial made her realise, the goods had been loaded and it would soon be ready to sail. She hurried over and boarded her floating home.

 9: An Ocean of Boredom

    Stuck with a smaller cabin than on the Golden Lily, the deck of the cargo vessel, which were little more than the two gangways around the citadel, became a good place as any to hang out. Madison, Rain and Valentina each found their own rhythm and places to spend time between the distributed chores.


    Reel and Madison took turns on manning the bridge, Rain and Madison shared maintenance duties, whereas the latter focused more on the engine and the former dealt with electricity and plumbing. Janet had taken over the kitchen and managed to create a diverse range of dishes despite the lack of varied ingredients. To her dismay, Valentina''s mismatched skills got her the ungrateful duty to clean. Everything needed cleaning. It sparked a new appreciation for Merina and how well she had managed that duty on the Golden Lily. Dishes were handled by a rotation and Janet, who simply commented, "If anyone messes up my order, you''ll skip dinner!". That had the crew pay attention and learn her order meticulously and to the letter.


    New clothes allowed everyone to laundry their old, smelly ones. Somehow the new set was warmer, more comfortable and definitely more versatile than her previous ones, but it''d stand out in many ports. The Uppersider had made a decision to mainly wear the dull zealot dress, that was what Rain had named it amongst other less appreciative words after receiving it, on board.


    Flipping up the collar against the cold, Valentina sat on a makeshift stool she had built out of three panels of wood and a couple of sturdy, long nails. It sure beat sitting on the cold, metal gangway. Her spot was near the bow beneath the bridge. Darkness surrounded the ship as far as she could see. When Damascus vanished behind them, the amount of islands decreased in number rapidly. They hadn''t seen another source of light in two days. Both navigators took the Mercurial slightly further north than necessary. A corridor without islands was marked on the map, hopefully enough to let them slip by most other ships, especially of the military type. To further decrease their chance of detection, none of the bridge or deck lamps were lit.


    A human''s eyes got used to the darkness eventually, realising it wasn''t completely dark. Just mostly. There were enough gaps between the welding of the metal and the bridge might not be lit, but some instruments still had a dim back light. Boredom and the lonely hours forced her to face her reality. Slowly, surely, the Uppersider worked through her loss of Italy and her friends again. Through everything that had happened to her since falling through Glint''s Gate. It still brought her to the brink of crying, less so than two days ago. She sighed and pushed her hands further into the pockets in her jacket, keeping them warm. The chill barely registered now, already used to it. Since their departure from port, she''d mostly kept to herself, working through her issues. After listening to everyone else rant about the so-called fanatics during dinner, she''d even decided to skip mentioning her exploration of the Western Syriac Cathedral and her meeting with Francis. Somehow trust was hard to come by, and it was a lot easier with Whitebeard''s crew.


    ***


    After dinner and the dishes, Reel took another shift on the bridge and Rain assessed a small leak on the piping of the bilge pump. To Valentina''s surprise, Madison wandered outside with her, bringing her own chair with her. Somehow they hadn''t talked much and rarely ended up free at the same time. She had noticed, since their departure from Sainte Monique, the navigator was much more present during conversations while the engineer inside Madison only came out when discussions became heated or the topic turned toward a technical challenge. She appreciated the consistency, not having to deal with two people during meals.


    "Not tired yet?", she asked the bald woman next to her after they had found a comfortable position and the shuffling had stopped. Madison wore a woollen hat against the chilly night. The shrug was mostly a sound, "I sleep well enough lately". "That''s good, right?", the Uppersider whispered loud enough to be heard without alerting any potential dangers around them. "Yeah. No dreams when it''s this quiet", the response kept them in silence for a few minutes, then the navigator spoke up again in the trademark higher pitched voice, "So you really came through Glint''s Gate?". "Sure did", sounded defeated and contained part of the pain she''d been working through the days. "What''s it like? Where you come from, I mean?". Valentina heard the curious, calm voice and had to smile, "Different. For one there''s no eternal night. We have a sun, up there in the sky. It wanders across the firmament, bestowing the earth with light and warmth". "You miss it, huh?". Her face turned soft and so did her voice, "Of course I do. I miss my friends and family, my world, my job". She pulled her legs close and rested her chin on top of the knees. Above them was only darkness, no matter how much either of them stared into it. The sun didn''t magically appear. How unfortunate.


    "What about your family? Rain mentioned that you have folks down in the Duchy", she asked and turned her head. Madison''s profile hardly outlined from the background. She heard a sigh and a soft clonk when the navigator''s head bumped against the metal behind them. "Sometimes I miss ''em. They disowned me when they found out about my, uh, condition. Can''t blame ''em I guess. I don''t have ill wishes, with the war I just home they''re fine", Madison explained, air exhaled into a cloud of mist. "I regret that happened to you! Don''t lose hope, sometimes life throws you a curve ball", the Uppersider tried to cheer the woman up. Her hand reached over, to lightly squeeze the woman''s thigh, to show her compassion and support, but Madison was quite twitchy when it came to physical contact. After hovering the hand for a moment, she pulled it back. Stupid me, can''t even take a risk. A frown appeared on her forehead with the thought.


    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    "I don''t know what a curve ball is, but I think I know what you mean", Madison chuckled. Valentina decided against explaining the expression. It wouldn''t help the woman. A long pause followed. "We''ll reach North Cross tomorrow, better get some sleep soon", the schizophrenic said and pushed herself up. "North Cross? The port on the north end of Shallow Straight?", she asked, peeking up at the navigator. "Yeah, hope we''ll get some intel on sailing conditions south and some supplies". "Guess I''ll find some rest soon, too". "You should. Night Valentina", Madison said her good night with a smile, voice soft and kind. The darkness allowed everyone to rely less on their eyes. Her head perked up again, "Night".


    ***


    Contrary to their previous visit to a port, with everyone having their jobs, the contributions came in all round the table. Janet took notes of stock and required supplies. Valentina asked for vinegar and sodium bicarbonate. That caused some raised eyebrows. Vinegar they also had on the Golden Lily, but natron wasn''t widely known it seemed. "It''s an ingredient for baking, causing bread or cake to expand? When dissolved and mixed with water, it can remove smell from clothes and help with cleaning certain dirt from dishes or softer metal", she had explained and the group had spent some time discussing the issue. The common word to use was soda, but Valentina wasn''t sure it was the right compound. She''d have to try it to find out.


    Both Reel and Janet would go ashore again to buy supplies. Madison would stay aboard and Rain and Valentina were to gather intel. Mostly regarding the state of the Shallow Straight, but also the progress of the war and fleet positions. While it was unlikely that a simple inspection would get them caught, too many ships and captains were sailing for the Aegis and they were just a small group of escapees, yet an inspection would unveil certain irregularities. Most prominently the question as to what they were doing, sailing south without a contract with the Free Trading Company and without cargo or enough money to buy any. None wanted to be caught and so they decided to let caution prevail.


    "Quite something, this sodium bicarbonate that you seem to know", Rain almost choked on pronouncing sodium bicarbonate, but managed decently in the end. The Uppersider snickered and fell onto her cot. The muscular man had his arms crossed while leaning against the open bulkhead. He mumbled, "Sorry, Miss Smartpants, not everyone had this, what did you call it, University degree?". She smirked and shrugged, "We learn these things in school, Universities build on top of schools with what they teach". "Right, Smartpants it is", he grinned at her and showed her a row of yellow teeth. Tooth hygiene was severely lacking here, not everyone saw the benefits of a toothbrush. Luckily in this department, the Underside wasn''t too far off and provided similar amenities than those she had been used to back in Italy.


    "Any tips for finding the intel?", she wondered and slipped out of her jacket. Underneath she wore two shirts and a bra, enough to keep her warm outside. Immediately goosebumps appeared on her arms. The inside of the ship was definitely warmer than outside, but was still chilly. He grimaced, "If we''re lucky, the Sicilian Aegies has a presence. We''ll exploit that. Sailors like to drink Whiskbrew and wouldn''t mind having a go at a pretty girl like you. We could also try the temple...". The man''s eyes trailed to the left, probably a memory appeared in his mind. "You want to use me as bait? No thank you! I''d rather try my luck in the temple. Don''t they have a church, too? Damascus had one", came her counter, getting her opinion about being used across. The flat look Rain gave her was priceless. "The fanatics don''t get to build their churches everywhere they want! Lucky for us! They''re bad news! North Cross has two temples, if my memory doesn''t betray me, one to Hess and another one to Umira. We''d probably have more luck with Hess". "Why not Umira?". "The mother doesn''t like wars. Even gets angry". The Uppersider interrupted him, another frown appearing on her face. Too many frowns lately, shot through her mind, but she tried to push away the distraction. "What''s Umira''s deal? Marriage? You call her the mother", she didn''t get the gods yet, all of them seemed to have weird responsibilities. "Ah, right. Most people pray to Umira about their harvest. Farmers and the sort. The mother, uh, yeah. You''d get that if you saw her statue. Umira statues are quite something", he explained and blushed. "Quite something? Don''t be so mysterious, Rain! I don''t understand anything", she chuckled and leaned forward. "Right", he scratched the back of his head, uncomfortable with the question, "She''s a mother-to-be, naked and quite beautiful, too". Ah, that''s what it was. A naked, pregnant woman. She shook her head and sighed, "Alright, I guess now I see why asking a priest of Umira wouldn''t get us anywhere". "Yeah", he agreed. The blush slowly faded from his cheeks, but he excused himself quickly.


    Valentina slipped out of her boots and fell back on her cot. So they had to find soldiers or priests. That made some sense, but wouldn''t merchants have a better idea about blockades and fleet presence? And their information would be far more recent. Maybe she should poke Janet and Reel about it, they would be dealing with merchants. In the end she decided against it. The type of traders they would encounter were locals, not the sailors they needed. Possibly Rain could go drink with the military and she could try her luck with the merchants and priests? Hess protected traders, chances were a visit to the temple would net her two birds with a single stone. A smile appeared on her dry lips. The last question remaining was whether she should prepare a letter to the Inspector. There was nothing to report now and whether they''d take the Shallow Straight south depended largely on the amount of supplies and the reports from the south. It didn''t strike her as strategically sound to write the letter now. Then she drifted off into a shallow sleep, dreaming about temples and churches, where people in long robes sold blessings for a hefty sum. The dreams soon faded and her sleep became less disturbed. The Mercurial would arrive soon, everyone that could rested in their cabin. Everyone except Madison, who commanded the ship and followed a tricky route without landmarks further southwest.

 10: Fish on a stick

    Everyone gathered on the lower gangplank. One by one they emerged from the bulkhead and waited for the distant lights to grow. Valentina, just as her crew companions, had changed out of the zealot dress into something less obvious. Apart from some damage on her jacket and pants, tears and rips accidentally caused by sharp edges in and around the engine room, the merchant sailor suit had been washed into pristine condition. As pristine as it could get.


    "Time, eh?", Rain muttered and copied the Uppersider, leaning against the metal citadel bow-side. "Yeah, finally. Can''t wait to get off this rust bucket!", she sighed. Madison''s deeper voice complained from behind them, "What do''ya mean rusty! Hardly any rust to be found on this fine boat!". Both Rain and her snorted nearly at the same time, causing them to grin at each other. They ignored the comment altogether after that. "I feel offended!", Madison puffed her cheeks. It was quite cute, her second male personality could never shake how pretty the woman was. Even when the engineer tried to be threatening, more often than not the facial expression was borderline cute. Valentina tried her best to stay serious. Agitating the engineer never lead anywhere, as Reel could testify to.


    A soft breeze went through her hair from starboard side. The Underside rarely had any wind at all. When she noticed a warmth sweeping through the group of escapees, Valentina pushed the jacket hood off and tied her hair into a bun behind her head. It felt nice. "The breeze of Shallow Straight", Rain grunted and he pursed his lips. Madison wore an expectant smile and Janet stretched, loud cracking thundered from her spine as her vertebrae snapped into place.


    ***


    The Mercurial sailed across the Shallow Straight and followed a series of reflective surface marker buoys. Every deck lamp was lit, but the boat also had large spotlights on top of the citadel, reaching quite a few meters in a half circle around the bow. Reel steered the vessel professionally, slowly towards the pier. She''d have to share the space with other ships. Further north anchored a few larger cargo haulers and two military ships. Cruisers maybe, or large frigates. Too large to enter port, they would require yawls to reach shore.


    North Cross'' port went around the shoreline, a long 90 degree curvature, every couple of meters a series of lamps outlined piers that reached far into the water. A more efficient usage of space for sure. Contrary to Damascus, the first building all had a military purpose. Towers sprouted between the trade buildings with multiple armaments attached to each. Harpoons, large calibre guns and something that looked like flak. Behind the first rows of buildings, similar to any town or city Valentina had visited so far, a slope expanded uphill. Multiple palaces loomed over the city and blocked sight from anything that might be behind the hill.


    Most buildings were constructed of stone. A dark, red stone that had not appeared anywhere before. The roofs were mostly flat and multiple washing lines clearly outlined the primary use for the roof. The Crossers, as these city dwellers liked to call themselves, favoured orange light and managed to increase its white point. Most colours reflected perfectly fine.


    After Sainte Monique, this city was by far the largest, most advanced and varied one she had visited so far. Unfortunately this also meant a very unpleasant smell. North Cross had a sewage system and somehow it seemed to be pushed into the port somewhere close to where they''d landfall.


    ***


    After leaving the ship, Janet and Reel registered with the port authority. Where those two took the money from, that was required to deal with all this official stuff, she had no idea. Instead of worrying about it, Rain and her left Madison inside the main bulkhead on her handmade chair which looked awfully similar to Valentina''s and swiftly left the unpleasant stink of the sewage behind. Both of them wore their jackets open. It was the first time since her arrival that she wasn''t cold. Something to remember this city by, she thought to herself.


    Inside the city, stone made everything feel more expensive, more sturdy and definitely posh. The Crossers could be Neapolitans. The further they left the port behind, the more hipsters they found. The Uppersider chuckled at that. "What''s so funny?", Rain wondered, panting heavier than her as they walked uphill. "This place is full of hipsters", she answered and glanced at a woman strolling past them. Her companion scowled at her, "You and your weird words". "I am saying that this is a trend city, full of people who want to be seen and show off their lifestyle", she explained, eyes darting left and right to remember buildings and landmarks. All they had done so far was to follow the main road. It went straight uphill and probably ended at those palaces. The wiry redhead snorted, "War makes southern cities less attractive, I guess". Something she wholeheartedly agreed with.


    Part of her wanted to check out clothes. And food. As they passed by a store selling dresses, and this time it was incredibly obvious with North Cross featuring shop windows, a grumble inside her stomach made her reconsider entering. "Where''s the street food?", Valentina beamed at Rain. His eyebrows shot up, then he put his index to his chin and glanced up, "Uuuuh, next large road right and we''ll reach Clockspire Road. I think. Memory''s a bit hazy".


    Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    Their patience was rewarded, though a blind man could have found, and smelled, the street market. Against the house wall opposite, two signs were chiselled into the stone. Clockspire Rd. and Principal St. Stomach rumbling even more, they turned right.


    Since North Cross was a trading hub first and foremost, it imported raw materials and refined them. Most food was imported as well. No matter where traders were headed, almost all made landfall here. The street was buzzing like an Asian market. Rain treated her to fish filet on a stick. He grinned and told her that she didn''t want to know what the fish looked like. It made her grimace, but tried the grilled meat reluctantly. Flavour spread through her mouth. First salty, then spicy with a hint of mint. The fish itself was either tasteless or she couldn''t figure out which part of that was fish. For good measure, she went back and haggled 3 fifties for two more sticks. Expensive was something else, but she probably underestimated how the economy worked here. Regret filled her. Reel or Janet could''ve explained all of this, probably.


    "What''s wrong? Don''t like it anymore?", he smiled over as they leaned against a house and quietly ate their food. "I regret not asking Janet or Reel to explain the economy to me", she sighed. People on Principal Street seemed a notch more wealthy, colourful and posh. Probably the upper class didn''t want to eat street food or buy goods themselves on the market. With enough money, cooks and servants could be bought. "Why do you want to know about the economy?", the tone in his voice said everything, a lack of understanding. "My previous job could be described as mass manipulation through economical means", the explanation trailed off as someone with a zealot dress walked past them. The thick jacket was missing, but the colours were unmistakable. Unfortunately before she could point that person out to her companion, they were gone.


    Rain mused, "I see, and if you knew about it you could figure out when you''re being cheated?". He caught on, but knowing the economy was so much more. In a third world country that had never been exposed to modern earth capitalism, it could be a crystal ball, it could be successful business, it could also be power and leverage. Knowledge was power, especially if one could sell it or use it to their advantage. So many powerful people in earth history had done the same, and so many women behind powerful men were guilty of it, too. Without any stable income, apart from the low chance of becoming a successful spy, she would need to step up her game. North Cross was the perfect place to do that.


    "Where''s the pub that you''ll hang out?", Valentina switched the topic. The man ran a hand through his red hair, "The Two Feathers, it''s roughly that direction, can''t miss it". Her head tilted slightly and a frown appeared, "Two Feathers doesn''t quite sound like a sailor establishment". "It is, it''s just not exactly a tavern", he blushed slightly, an awkward sight on him. The Uppersider caught on, a memory of Game of Thrones flashed through her mind, "Don''t forget your task". A grin escaped her, which turned into a thoughtful expression. Didn''t he want me to tag along? "Naw, I won''t. Should''a tagged along, folks working there are both pretty and offer good services", he shrugged at her and pushed himself from the wall. "I''m fine, I don''t need to get laid yet", she snickered while he raised an eyebrow at her. "Not the only services they offer. From baths to massages, or just company. Suit yerself, maybe next time, aight?", he dug his hands into the pockets and walked off. Seconds later he was gone.


    ***


    Nibbling on her last fish filet, Valentina followed Principal Street up to the palaces, where she hoped to find the temples. A small estate, surrounded by a wall and two guards at the gate, gave a southern French vibe. She glanced through the open gate into the property. "Walk along, Miss!", one guard ushered her along while his guard friend only gave her a gloomy glance.


    Instead of flowers, many grew mushrooms of different sizes, colour and form. Some climbed up the house walls, the ivy of the Underside. Others were large enough to provide a canopy to huddle underneath should it ever have a downpour. Frankly, the mushroom caps were probably a better protection against rain than a tree could ever be.


    Lined along the main path to the estate grew glowing mushrooms. They emanated a blue hue. Just enough to replace any dim lamp. Next came a small castle. On eye level unimpressive, but it reached twice as high as the neighbours. Crenellations decorated the top. Multiple paintings depicted a fight against a sand worm from Herbert''s Dune and its defeat. The story started near the bottom and ended near the crenellations. On the final painting stood a lonely soldier with spear and shield against a heavily wounded worm. Death spread all around them. Gruesome was one word to describe it. Considering the artwork left her in awe however. Chiselled into the wall and afterwards painted with a myriad of colours, some weapons and especially the monstrous enemy grew more menacing and lifelike as its head rose out of the wall.


    Her intuition proved right. Hess'' temple was a pompous building next to the palace in the centre. The mayor''s palace, city hall, something of the sort. It bore no sign. Umira''s temple wasn''t located on the hilltop, so she scanned the city from her elevated position and found it near Clockspire Road, which circled around the hill. From city hall, a smaller road lead back down to Clockspire Road left and right. It truly was the city centre. Hilltops were easily defended, at least until long distance weaponry was invented. She didn''t know what was underneath the palace, there could be a huge bunker complex. Nor did she know whether shelling a temple would be considered a no-go in war. Since the gods existed, temple damage could cause a divine incident. Totally possible. Valentina chuckled and strode up the wide stairs, flanked by tall stony pillars.

 11: A Bards Life

    Very few people gathered outside, the rare courier or soldier swiftly walking by the temple and palace just to vanish when they had walked downhill far enough. The inside of Hess'' temple however was busy. Not only didn''t it look anywhere close to being a temple, the designs were quite mundane, too. In the centre of the large square hall stood a huge statue of an Amazon in leather armour. Its details were intricate and rich. Her sword was sheathed on the belt, one hand gripping a scroll and the other holding a thick, open book. The god''s eyes were hidden in shadows under the flow of long hair, as most of the lights came from chandeliers above.


    Valentina smiled up at the statue, returning the kind expression carved into the stone. If this was an accurate depiction of Hess, then the muscular woman was kind and beautiful. "Greetings, traveller. How may I be of service?". The deep, male voice ripped her back into reality, all admiration for the statue gone in this very instant. "Ah, uh, yes. Hello", the Uppersider mumbled, hand scratching her neck, embarrassment tinting her cheeks in a light red.


    While her mission still mainly required her to gather information, a direct question might be offensive and outright cause her to be kicked out. Instead her eyes scanned across the room. Since the Hess statue stood on a circular pedestal, around its base was a round counter. Multiple people, the closest description she could come up in her mind with was a monk, hurried back and forth. Behind the counter and the monks an enormous amount of scrolls were neatly stacked into shelves, on top of which a number hung in black on white paper.


    Along the left wall from her position, a crowd had gathered and was listening to someone, she couldn''t quite see the person. The crowd blocked her sight from everything further back. On the right side a line of merchants and rich people, judging from their detailed and colourful clothes, had formed. Some held jewellery, others books and papers, and one person carried a chair. Hess had three fields of responsibility. Justice, Righteous War and Trade. Valentina assumed this was the line for receiving a blessing or advice. It gave her an idea.


    The man in front of her, dressed in a red toga-like garb similar to everyone else in this temple, patiently smiled at her. How could people be like this? She imagined herself making a scene in his place. She rolled her eyes at herself, which caused the monk''s eyebrows to rise. "Maybe you can help me. I''m part of a trading crew, I''m a long way from home. With the war and all, I hope to get some advice to avoid the war as best as possible?", she pursed her lips and smiled at the man. His hands folded in front of him and he thought for a moment, "I''m sorry, traveller. We are not what you seek".


    The Uppersider''s shoulders slumped and she sighed deeply. "Lift your chin, traveller. While we are not what you seek, it does not mean I cannot offer some advice. We have received word that the Sicilian Aegis is negotiating with Mayor Oughtard about converting part of the northern and western port into a military outpost. Many warships sail the Shallow Straights lately, some head north, others head east back to Sainte Monique", his voice tuned down in volume, "I should not say, but not everyone in North Cross is thrilled about getting pulled into the war, especially as a defensive position against the west. Make of this what you will, take into account that very soon the military will conduct checks and searches".


    The monk smiled at her and tilted his head slightly. Valentina processed the new information and thanked him kindly. Since a rich couple just walked inside, the kind monk directed his attention over to them, walking with quick, small steps across the polished floor tiles. Before she turned around, her gaze met the statue''s, that seemed to smile at her. Had she been smiling before, too? Uncertain, gifting the god another glance, just to be even more confused since the statue didn''t smile anymore, she walked outside.


    ***


    Her walk downhill was conducted in silence, both hands stuffed into her pockets and she glanced absentmindedly forward, expertly avoiding any passerby crossing her path. So the military had plans to covert North Cross into a checkpoint. While it wasn''t located near the front lines, anyone sailing around the Shallow Straight could flank the Empire. While this had no immediate effect, it definitely had implications. North Cross wouldn''t be the only town the Aegis would convert and that meant they would have to circumnavigate the Shallow Straight and the Foggy Vortex.


    Would they even have the funds to do that? It also made her realise that a route outside of the Empire would leave her without any potential support from the Eye of Clarity. Not that they had provided much support, it was more about her recruitment and potential spy job. Should she just leave it be and ignore it? Get rid of the Duality Coin? Her path lead her over to the area where she remembered Umira''s temple. Clockspire Road was as busy as ever. Many shops were closed now, other buildings had opened restaurants that had been hidden behind shutters earlier. Delicious food made her stomach rumble again. This time it would get ignored. Too much food would make her fat, she didn''t want to get fat.


    Somehow the smell couldn''t be ignored. Valentina leaned against a corner wall holding a sandwich that she had acquired for two fifties from a vendor, a tiny, massively overweight woman with a strong accent and mumbling that had made her nod throughout the whole order process. The first bite revealed the sandwich to taste a bit like pizza, the second bite had her mouth on fire. Tears shot into her eyes and she was panting against the spices attacking mouth, throat and nose at the same time. "What the flying fuck!", she whispered and sniffed. Every time she blinked, tears ran down her cheeks.


    "Ol'' Dany got ya, didn''t she?", a kind ghost in brownish green clothes handed her something. Another sniff and the back of her hands wiped tears from her eyes. Without the ocean across her sight, Valentina squinted at a woman around her age with neatly plucked eyebrows, big hazel eyes and thin, red lips. The face itself was too edgy, but that didn''t matter as long bangs framed it. Most of the hair was hidden under a brown shawl. Somehow she made the zealot dress look quite elegant and sexy. So the Solomonians lived up to the reputation, love thy neighbour as thyself. Beautiful. The one belief despised by the majority of the crew, and here she was receiving help from a stranger, a Solomonian.


    "Thanks", Valentina croaked and took the water skin from the woman. Water with a sweet syrup, as it turned out. It helped. Not as much as she had hoped. "I''m Valentina. Thanks again", the Uppersider introduced herself, throat finally recovered and handed the water skin back. The brunette bowed her head slightly and smiled, "I''m Mina. Nice to make your acquaintance. Are you a traveller?". "You could say that! I''m from far away", Valentina chuckled. Mina''s eyes lit up and sparkled at her. Had she never seen someone from far away? And what to do with the sandwich? "Uh, you seem to know this Dany, do you know what I can do with this sandwich now?", she held up the bread and offered it kindly. Luckily this interruption distracted Mina from her interest in the Uppersider, "Uh, you can take out the brown mushrooms. They are the spicy ingredient. Is that why you don''t know Redcaps? Because you''re from far away?". "Where I come from we do not have Redcaps", she explained and pulled a couple of brown mushroom caps out of the sandwich, dropping them to the ground unceremoniously. "Oh, that must be quite far away", the woman put her finger to her chin and thought about it.


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Without the Redcaps, the sandwich had a bearable spice level and turned out to be quite tasty. "I know it''s none of my business, but could you tell me a few stories? Exciting stories from far away islands? Most travellers don''t want to share...", she trailed off and the Uppersider frowned slightly. There were tasks to complete and being seen with a Solomonian might become a problem later. "I know what you must be thinking", her voice turned to pleading, "I can cook a decent meal and while I prepare food, I get to hear something interesting! Please, Valentina! My mother wouldn''t mind having a guest, I''m sure!". "You still live with your mom? Aren''t you like¡­ uh¡­ old enough to have your own place?". "What do you mean? Every child lives with their parents until we are married to a suitable partner!", she exclaims, puffing her cheeks in a very childish and cute way. "And you haven''t found a suitable partner, I presume", the traveller concluded. "I''m too picky, my mother always says. Everybody they suggested¡­", the voice died on Mina, as if it had been a bad thing. Valentina however saw between the lines. It all looked similar to an arranged marriage deal where both parties were required to consent. And Mina here didn''t want to consent. Quite the old story, the parents would become anxious, more so when their kid grew way too old to get married and the kid, well, the kid is caught in a system that might or might not fit.


    Valentina threw a glance over her shoulder across the square toward Umira''s temple. In front of its entrance sat a fountain with a woman at its centre. A naked, pregnant woman with enormous breasts, emptying a decanter into the pool beneath her. All around her feet grew mushrooms and some ivy. The Mother, it seemed, didn''t mind exposing all her features to the world. The temple beyond was tiny and had a flat roof. Its entrance, walls and roof was strewn with mushrooms. Some stipes long, others thick, caps in all sizes, some with gills, others with sponges. The god of agriculture and harvest couldn''t be mistaken for anything else. As she let her eyes sweep across the square, very few people could be seen. A lonely gardener in a dark green garb tended to the mushrooms. Rain had been right. Umira wouldn''t be helpful when it came to information.


    "I''m spoiling your plans, aren''t I?", the sad voice of Mina reached her. The temple had been a distraction, a rude one at that, yet the Solomonian took it personal and sought the cause with herself. "Alright, I can stay for a meal", she sighed and her lips curled into a smile. "Really? I''m so happy", Mina shifted her weight up her toes and then back down. "Lead on, I don''t exactly know where you live", the Uppersider smiled again and followed the overly excited woman uphill, into a narrow alley.


    Part of her wondered how bad of an idea this was, but somehow she couldn''t imagine the woman had any ill will toward her, or her crew. Three alleys later, they had arrived. The house belonged to a series of houses, some had a small path between the walls leading behind the buildings, others didn''t. Mina turned the key, pushed the door open and they left the dark alley behind. "Mother, I am home! And I brought a guest for dinner!", Mina all but sang happily into the building, the voice loud enough to be carried up the stairwell to the upper floors. Steps creaked the floor boards and then the panels on the stairs. An old woman in a similar zealot dress appeared as Mina dragged the Uppersider into a well-lit kitchen. "Sit, sit!", she pushed Valentina onto a chair in the corner. The old woman stepped inside, a scowl immediately changing the mood of the room. "And here I thought you finally found a man!", the scowl vanished and her attention turned to the guest, "I''m Lania, Mina''s mother. Welcome to our humble home. I''m guessing Mina''s extended an invitation. Please be at home, and ask if you need anything".


    "Thank you. And you''re right, Mina invited me to dinner, asking for stories to tell", Valentina smirked slightly when the realisation hit her that she was being paid to be a bard. "I wish my daughter had as much interest in finding a partner as she does for stories of adventure", Lania sighed, throwing a glance at her daughter who was already busy preparing ingredients. The Uppersider couldn''t suppress a smile. "As you can see, I''m getting old. My spouse passed away a long time ago. And I can''t fathom why she wouldn''t want a partner in her life", the old woman shook her head and sat down opposite of their guest at a sturdy, wooden table, "I''m sorry, I should not burden someone with these worries. Might you tell me who you are?".


    All parents seem to have similar worries, regardless of culture and faith. Valentina could empathise. Her own mother sometimes had brought up the topic. Yet in Italy, at her age, a partner for life would still be years away. Maybe not years, but definitely two or three after finding a suitable candidate. "I''m Valentina. Guess you can tell, I''m not a Crosser. I''ll be leaving soon again, after my ship has been resupplied and our captain has figured out the best route for a successful voyage", she explained and added in some details that were not exactly true.


    Mina turned to them and sparkled with interest, "You come from far west, right?". Valentina thought that in a way it was true, so she nodded, "From beyond Strife Island, actually". That sparked the interest of both Mina and her mother. "You''ve been to Strife Island? People say that Glint watches over it. There is supposed to be a tall temple there. And the faithful can reach the Heavens from there!". Lania snorted at that, "Oh child, do you really believe all this nonsense?". Before the daughter could push back, the guest spoke up, "It''s not that wrong. Not entirely true either. Strife Island is but a lifeless rock, on top of which many people with many different skills have erected a tower. Don''t get me wrong, it''s impressive, but it also looks dilapidated. Directly above Strife Island is Glint''s Gate. A white, shining hole in the ceiling of the Underside. The tower tries to reach it, but I think it''s hardly one third of how tall it needs to be".


    During her tale, Lania started to help with dinner. Both were listening intently, asking questions about the Golden Lily, about Sirens, Virgin''s End and King Rochard and she ended her story telling with those that she had heard herself about AB-21 and its dangerous robots. Whether the food tasted good or amazing didn''t matter much, Valentina was just glad for the company. Somehow these two Solomonians had given her something no one else had in the Underside. A place to feel comfortable and at home. They talked until it got so late, that Lania offered the guest bed, but the Uppersider declined respectfully. She promised to visit again, if she ever was back in North Cross, and they offered her a place to stay any time she needed it. What kind souls, she smiled to herself as she tried to find her way back onto Clockspire Road. North Cross had fallen quiet. Uncomfortably quiet.