《Vigil : Shot and Shade》


 Chapter 1 - Visions on an Oil Canvas

    Slowly, ever so slowly did a grand canvas bloom forth into view, the stark and untouched nature of it''s being laid bare before all. Laid before all was this infinite and boundless expanse that could bear any sort of composition including any number of places both far and near, both in reality and memory. As the image of such a canvas would resolve and grow clear, unseen hands would work to ebb and draw brush strokes across the untamed and stark white of the canvas¡¯s field. These indistinct and seemingly random lines would resolve themselves into countless fading images that they themselves danced across the scene in an unbidden torrent. Each of these bearing a murky and distant clarity to them as if recalled indistinctly and from a time long past.


    Each faded image would come fluttering across with rich flashes of color upon a canvas now dyed of the deepest blue. Shifting oily vistas and horizons would be given form from these unbroken and unceasing swathes of blue and orange hues, splotches of deep earthy tones would demark the oil painted sky from the terrestrial land beneath royal blue sky¡¯s glorious visage. Drawn forth from brushstrokes beneath this dazzling azure sky, these many countless motes of earthen hue would be dressed in redolent colors as if an artist had laid by hand each of the blossoming flowers and their unique colors both warm and cold.


    Rising up in vast and neatly laid lines would be garbed in shimmering golds, resplendent like treasure stand tidely in obedient rows. These painted fields of flaxen wheat and barley rest alongside grand vista¡¯s of emerald and green hues that demarcate lush tones of the untamed natural world that would rise and fall with many viridian gnolls that ebbed off into the infinite distance. Nestled squarely upon the edge of the bright natural hues of the untamed world beyond and before the expansive and warm colors of the tidy fields would reside the painted form of a quaint and humble cottage, it''s form an encompassing blend of the natural world and the clean and tidy lines of creative hands. Warm crimson hues of a chimney would nestle themselves alongside the faded brass of the thatch roof that resided upon the dull grey of the plastered walls. This quiet and unassuming abode would softly puff and bellow soft white clouds from it''s chimney as the distant sun would bow low, gracefully moving to depart the stage in this picture frame of some long ago halcyon day.


    Curiously amid the colors of nature would a shifting oily form make its way down one of the tidily painted gnolls that rolled among the thralls of nature. This small figure would bestride this canvas awash with color their form indistinct but of warm and inviting hue as they contrasted and made their way down among the rolling hills of green. This lone figure would be given pause as it trailed along pale outlines of an earthen path, pausing to give notice to the golden tone wheat fields ripe for harvest. The slight figure would cast it''s gaze across the scene, the hue of its body shifting to a warm and rosey red and dulcet amber as the slight figure looked upon the serene vista laid before it with fond and adoring nostalgia.


    As the shifting rosen tinged figure would gaze forth upon the scene, it would take notice of another of it''s kind moving forth from the quiet abode to join it upon the earthen rise upon which it stood, overlooking the lands below. Rising up from the fields below, would this new figure would be tinged with flowing and fluttering streaks of white and silver intermixed with flashes of gold and warm tender scarlet. This smaller form would finally work it''s way among the trails up to the place in which it''s kindred had stood on watch. The duo would excitedly raise their arms in some wordless greeting, their bodily forms moving and excitedly exchanging unheard news excitedly with one another in this silent painting. The duo would beam forth excitedly and begin the trek further down along the confines of paths that lead them both forth towards the lovely cottage¡¯s form. Where there had been but a single figure, now these two bestrode alongside one another, basking in the cool colors of the evening air these two indistinct forms wordlessly mimed and motioned conversation on their journey to the mote of color that presented their home.


    In this picturesque scene, the two tiny forms would quietly basked in the blissful warmth of the quiet and growing eve, the larger of the two would be caught up in some wordless conversation, their focus only broken when the smaller of the two would cast their gaze onward to the painted horizon. The slightest of the figures would indicate in silence to the distance, giving pause to the larger of the two as their gaze towards the distant horizon as something estranged would ebb upon the canvas of colors.


    Upon the vast distant horizon, would pale droplets appear, misplaced and errant upon this carefully orchestrated painting akin to a forgetful error of a novice artist spattering his completed work with aberrant colors. However, these pallid motes would fester within themselves growing and feeding eagerly upon the royal and rich blues and oranges of the sky. These anomalous motes would swell, leeching and desaturating colors about them until naught but a rolling tide of silver-white hue spread across the proverbial horizon. This churning tide crested and peaked as if painted by the manic hands of an artist whom had seemingly forgotten that clouds bore not these colors nor that their place was among the skies solely. This rolling fog-cloud of silver-white would ebb and curdle, heaving upon itself as it''s vast form would roll across the distant hills like a heavy and smothering shroud. The rolling tufts of silver-white would loom forth like a maw gobbling up the lovely azur of lily''s, the vibrant greens of the untamed grass, before finally pervading and subsuming the golden stalks at the edge of the picturesque field it''s movements unhalted and only increasing in speed and rapidity.


    This unceasing tide would crawl and heave itself forth across the beautiful landscape laid before the trembling duo that watched this from atop the earthen gnoll at the cottage fields edge, as this all consuming cloud crawl it''s way forth greedily towards the unaware homestead before it. The sudden pang of fear would resonate as the slight duo¡¯s colors and hue would quiver into fearful shades of darkened inky splotches. The figures would wordlessly give haste to their step, their body¡¯s a blur of color as they mime frantically, silently calling forth in alarm trying to beckon or rouse those that dwell within.


    Each step along the painted path of earthen hue would carry them closer and closer to the cottage, their colorful forms flashing in bright hues of panic and desperation as this idyllic dreamscape was engulfed within the seething tide of silver-white oil paints run-amuck upon the canvas. However their efforts were to no avail, the final image of the scene laid before them the duo was treated too was the lasting image of the small farmhouse being silently subsumed by this foggy-mist gobbled down it''s endless gullet. The duo reeled, their hues and colors fading from their bright selves into muddy and murky hues of dark azure. For nothing heralded this silent cataclysm, no answers nor respite to explain this wonton subsumption of this art, there was but the silent and inexorable fog-tide that ebbed steadily onward.


    The trembling duo would reel and skid forth to a halt as the rolling tides and clouds of silver-white would race forth, sprinting towards their cowering forms. The duo would cling, one to another as this onrushing tide of silver washed over them, the image upon this canvas would distort as the once redolent flowers in their vibrant beauty would be faded to a dull ashen grey, wilted and withered within the embrace of this oily cloud. The natural world around them would be leached, and supped upon and drawn dry as the fog-cloud of silver-white would eagerly cling to the two cowering forms. The pair thrashed as lattices and racing firey lines would dance and spread across the bodies of the duo trapped within the silence of the silver-storm cloud.


    The unbroken torrent of silver-white would slowly begin to fade unto murky black as it would bleed forth upon the corners of this dream, slowly replacing but the corners at first, before trickling down closer and closer to the center and the solitary pair of thrashing and agonized colors that remained upon the canvas.


    The two figures would cleave to one another amid the growing and looming abyss, the figures clasped to one another, as they drift further from one another. With morose silence, the space between the duo is filled, akin to the onrush of the untamed waters into unfilled space. The pair¡¯s discolored and warped frames would be pushed apart, the smaller of the duo being carried forth into the inky mire of the slowly fading silver-white tide. The sole remaining figure thrashing about in silent contortions of pain-stricken grief as the inky and murky questing lines of black would fully down silver-white canvas. The solitary figure was left adrift, in this abyssal sea of polluting black. The sole lingering effect on the drifting body would be the visible sense of falling upon an endless midnight expanse much akin to a star having fallen from the cosmic seas above.


    The sudden feeling of an unseen ground racing up from the nebulous and inky void would jar the dream to an abrupt and harsh end. Sharp pains danced across the body of a gaunt ragged frame of the youth, as he stirs, having fallen from his ragged cot onto the rough hewn timbers of the floor. Nikolai would groan, throwing his makeshift sheets that had bound around him like a snake, from his body as he takes short ragged breaths, in panic his left hand races forth and tosses free the covers from his form. As he blinked to clear his vision he¡¯d turn over his sweat slick hand and arm, his breathing slowly coming back under his control. Thusly much to his relief, he found his body in the same state he''d left it when he delved into the world of slumber upon the prior eve.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    He¡¯d craned his head about, taking in the slowly focusing view of the room around him in stride as he worked to collect himself. The room was cramped a single panel-less window covered with but a bolt-scrap of moth-eaten sackcloth would allow the early rays of the dawn¡¯s light to cast illumination upon the rooms interior. Upon the wall clung faded and cracked plaster covering the spartan room, dull exposed timbers bitten by brine and a life at sea composed the skeletal rafters that hung overhead, Within the room where but a pair of bare-bone bed stacked one atop the other with crude straw stuffed cots laid upon them. Much to his relief the other occupants of the room remained fast asleep in their bunks, their covered forms heaving slightly beneath sackcloth blankets.


    Nikolai would rise from the floor, moving to kneel beside his bed as he fished about with his right arm beneath the cots edge till his hand found purchase on the old battered case beneath his bed. With a swift motion he¡¯d withdraw the case and began to dress himself for the day. Several thick rolls of heavy gauze would first be applied upon his flesh, covering the areas of flesh not veiled by the thick trousers and rough plain tunic he wore. The pale white of the bandages would wind around his twisted flesh.


    The once pale skin, having been gnarled and twisted long ago. The roll would wind it''s way across the length of his legs and neck, the painful red flesh, swollen and blistered would be latticed with estranged vine-like growth bulbed beneath his flesh as he briskly bound these weeping wounds tightly. With due reverence, Nikolai would reach down once more into the case at his bed-side, pulling forth the well worn and slightly moth eaten wool tricorne. He¡¯d move to brush lingering dust from the saw-mills blades from it, as he placed the hat squarely atop the shaggy mop of faded blond hair. Feeling closer to complete with the addition of his prized hat. The lad would offer a swift kick back to the footlocker to send it back and beneath the bed. Within such faded soldiers of tin would clatter in protest as they sink amongst a sea of leaflets and summons all adorned with faded wax seals of the provincial governor of the island port, all whilst wooden ships would bob and heave upon the leaflet sea before the case finds its place back beneath his cot.


    His brow furrows sharply as he moves to the crooked pegs that hang from the wall along his bedside, glancing about as a dull haze of discomfort hangs in his numbed mind. He¡¯d had another of those dreams again like spectres they loomed over him. However, try as he might the more detail he¡¯d try to recall the more distant and unclear they would become as the ebbing thoughts of home would fade from him. The dull pain and the lack of recall gnawed at the boy, something that hung upon him like a shroud that taunted him with distant flashes of places and the pervading confusion as the line between reality and fantasy blurred. Inwardly he¡¯d sigh, denoting yet another day in which this recurring thought had given him restless sleep. He¡¯d idly lean forth and carve a single line on the edge of his bedpost using his nail, a long running list of tally marks only adding to his discomfort as another night was snatched.


    He¡¯d finally manage to get upright, his bandages and attire sorted, he¡¯d flex his right hand before him trying to give his mind something to focus upon, satisfied with the movements of the heavy leather gloves, he¡¯d then move to raise his left arm seeming to feel the clench of his fingers, Only to have nothing move before him. For no limb would find itself displayed forth awaiting its owner¡¯s bidding, no nimble dance of fingers to focus his mind. He¡¯d glance oft to his left side and give an involuntary wince as he spies the empty space in which an arm should occupy. The limb vacant spot, sends a faint quiver in his back and flutter in his gut as he could have sworn to have felt the phantom presence of his digits, the sight acting as a silent reminder that his morning routine was not yet complete.


    The young lad would rise forth and move over to his bedside, hand reaching up to the gnarled pegs upon the crude walls. Dangling from these wooden pegs would be a faded and worn leather harness, with a brisk action he¡¯d haul it down and loop it across his vacant left shoulder joint, the harness sliding neatly into the void and finding its place in the left shoulder socket. As the harness is moved, the faint light that crept through the window would strike dull burnished steel, and the dull hues of bronze that shimmered as Nikolai adjusts the harness.


    Hanging from the peg, the missing piece would reveal itself, a slightly oversized parody of a human arm born forth from steel and bronze would idly sway when the harness was removed, it''s hardened shell pinging as intricate runic inscriptions stirred slightly from the movements that had roused it from it''s quiet slumber, eagerly awaiting the master¡¯s call.


    Nikolai would nod, satisfied that the harness was in the most comfortable spot, he would heft the artificial limb from its resting place and move to slot it firmly into the ball-socket of the shoulder harness. The ghastly skeletal digits would leap as if pricked by needles whilst twitch as from within the iron casemate of the limb, a dull amber glow would radiate and thrum as a shimmering augite would stir to life. Gears click and whirr within the armored arms, as the vaguely skeletal shape would flex and twinge, ponderous in the cool air of the morning. The dull thrum of heat would wash forth from the limb as ebbing trails of the arcane would flow cross the ancient rune work upon intricately constructed digits and the minutia of it''s inner-workings that stirred the faux limb to life. Violently and jerkily the prosthetics digits would flex and winge, as Nikolai would feel as if someone doused his mind in a cold stream, as this replacement limb would reach forth and diligently work to harmonize with his own mind and muscle movements. After a few awkward moments, the digits would flex and respond with the same eagerness as his flesh and blood hand.


    Satisfied and finally through the tedium of his early morning routine, Nikolai maneuvers himself past the bunks and cots of his bunkmates in an effort not to wake them. He¡¯d pass by without incident and manage his way to the door, slipping out into the corridor beyond. The hall was still as far below in the commons area the dull commotion of the early risers from the foundling hospital. The few rooms that he moved past their tattered and ripped curtains that hung from the door frames, veiling the slowly stirring forms within that groggily turned over in their bunks as the dawn¡¯s early light would peer forth into their windows.


    Nikolai would move with a modicum of vigor, his eyes glancing warily between the thresholds as he pasted them. His stance and movements betrayed a furtive fear that was almost palpable, a wary eye that he kept upon the other foundlings that he shared this decrepit dormitory with. For within the hierarchy of the waifs within, there were few that were more despised than he. Be it from spiteful jealousy over the free-range he enjoyed at the hands of the overworked caretaker of the youths or perhaps it was the few dusty scuffles he¡¯d brokered with in the past over bunk-space and what few possessions he had.


    Nikolai had long learned to scrape and struggle for the dredges of what their realm had to offer with their meager supply. It was no small secret either as the veiled forms stirred in their rooms, that Nikolai stood apart from them. His human form all but aberrant in comparison to the rest of the youths, long had he spent his days musing over what it truly was that earned him condemnation within this realm. His gaze would filter down upon his tightly bandaged form, a pang of worry leaping up into his throat as he shamefully tugs at one of the loose ends of padding.


    Perhaps it was the affliction that crawled upon his form? The angry lattices and growths beneath his flesh, had drawn more than their fair share of wretches and hushed curses at the sight of his pained form. In some form or another, perhaps it was the warping of his flesh and the loss of his natural limb that set him aside as a pariah among the folds of the denizens of the realm. His mind mulling and churning over these guilty and shameful thoughts as he worked to reconcile the manner in which his fellow foundlings and the myriad of passerby¡¯s in the streets would react to him. As none would provide context nor clue as to what unspoken red letter from time gone by hung over him still. The looks of disdain and loathing he would earn upon the sight of his bandaged form moving through the streets of the city beyond the foundling homes walls, would cause him much chagrin. As it seemed to him that it would come from no other fact than the nature of his blood and the affliction he bore upon his frame no matter the manner in which he conducted himself. For man upon the realm in which Nikolai dwelled was seen as some harbinger of inscrutable danger, and the treatment of the few that dwelled here on this isle upon which Nikolai found himself ran the gambit from avoidance to callous cruelty.


    Inwardly he fretted over this reflexive disdain that the heritage of his blood earned him, it made little sense to him as he was left within the foundling hospital at an early age, too far back for him to recall his own parents which had deposited him therein nor for what grand and unforgivable sin he now bore at the expense of his own blood and heritage.


    His head throbbed, far too much thinking for such an early hour, the indistinct images dancing again in his head as he would hasten down the creaking and misaligned stairs ducking beneath a thick and heavy bundle of fishing net that had been haphazardly hung up over the route further down the stairs.


    Perhaps thoughts for another time, he¡¯d spent long hours pondering what it was that mankind had done to the myriad of beings and creatures within the land to earn them such loathing but all of such had been naught but fruitful. With a tired sigh, Nikolai would shove down the clouding thoughts into the haze of discomfort, as he¡¯d draw back the thin clinging curtain that cloaked the doorway into the dinning hall, more than keenly eager to eat his fill and be off to avoid the worst of the harrying that would arise on this day when the older of the waif¡¯s finally woke and roused themselves from their slumber.


    Despite all this, the young man would give a fleeting smile as he wheeled about into the dinning area, for today was going to be a special day for many a great and wondrous things that awaited him. Slowly as he passed the final threshold before him into the dinning hall, his gently whirring and clicking automata hand would rest upon the gnarled and time eaten form of a wooden ships wheel, his steel digits moving across the deep channels his hands had worn upon the old and faded wood. Someday, he¡¯d told himself, he¡¯d find himself a way to set a course upon the seas of azur and murky jade that stretched on into the endless horizons beyond and the curious unknown that lies beyond.

 Chapter 2 : The Gilded City on A Hill

    As Nikolai made his way forth into the dinning hall, he¡¯d cast a last wary gaze around the room, taking stock of those that had managed to beat him here and what was laid out before him. The room was fairly squat and uneven, the floor sloped ever so slightly betraying the curved backbone of some ancient sailing ship that had long outlived its usefulness upon the open seas. The overhead boards sat abut to one another in awkward and uneven patterns, mirroring the same design upon the floor below, a countless myriad of stains of spilled food and grease staining the boards beneath his feet.


    Running across the squat room in neat and semi-orderly lines would be long tables, spread out evenly and surrounded by crudely fashioned bench seating. These rough hewn benches bore the crude workmanship of a novice tradesmen, their origin more than likely as recovered and recycled timbers from a vessels hull, the dull and all pervading scent of sea water and brine filled the hall, churning and mixing with the sickly sweet scent of stewing apples and the grainy scent of ground oats roiled from a elongated window that encompassed the opposite wall from the halls entrance. From within the tell-tale clatter of pans and dish work would betray the location of the Matron of the foundling hospital, the nanny that tended to the host of lost children was a stern caretaker and overseer of her charges. Nikolai would be given pause for but a few heartbeats as he strains his ears, knowing full well the matron kept to a rigid routine, the softer and fainter clatter and ringing of dishes meant she was still fully engrossed in the preparing for the rousing bell due to toll in but a few hours time.


    Nikolai would give a wiry smile, so he had managed to get down early enough for him to go about his daily plan. His gaze would move now between the few figures that are far too busy trying to stomach the steaming gruel that the Matron had provided them. The closest to him, was a sibling pair. The two lithe framed figures were new arrivals and thusly would remain awkwardly hunched over their bowls, trying to fish out large mushy chunks of apples from the churning white sea of oats and milk that steamed before them. The pair were both brother and sister seated off to Nikolai¡¯s left. They were an unremarkable sight, the older sister had a few knicks and cuts upon her, betraying the rough and tumble upbringing the pair had. Nikolai noted their angular facial features, willowy frames and sleek and elongated ear tips, betrayed them as the half-blood of elfin ancestry. The duo opted to remain and keep to themselves, the elder sister casting her gaze upward to meet Nikolai, a tight lipped scowl as he passes on by. He¡¯d merely give a nervous casual wave, before locking his eyes forward once more making his way towards the bench nearest the window to the kitchen, and the towering cauldron of steaming oats and stewed apples.


    As he¡¯d pass the last row of bench seats, he¡¯d cast his gaze down and aside to the only other figure within the room, a slight figure sat slouched over their food, bowl pressed flush to their face. The figure in question was mostly human, or more closely called a demi-human. The figure¡¯s arms, instead of mirroring that of humanity, would come to an end with large feathered wings much akin to that of a large owl. Tall feathers sat interspersed with strains of dull brown hair. Their attire did not veil the blend of avian and human, that sat and gobbled down the stewed meal, taloned feet clicking and tapping a content rhythm. The harpy lad would pause his eating, long ears perking up, as he pulls his face from the bowl with a squelching noise. Leaving Nikolai to be greeted with an apprehensive stare from the young harpy as thick chunks of milky oats would drip in clumps from his human facial features, whom trilled worriedly and dragged their bowl closer to his chest with his wing¡¯s edge.


    Nikolai would merely slide a hands length away and pass the boy on-by, whom promptly resumed burrowing his head into his meal and resumed consuming such aggressively. With a slow draw of breath, he¡¯d make his way forth till he arrived before the vast cauldron that sat nestled before the wide expanse of crude benches and tables. As he would draw up next to the iron pot, the thick and sickly sweet scent of stewing apples would roil forth in volumnous waves. He¡¯d wince as the sharp bite of the heat would give him pause, before he works to ensnare the slowly sinking ladle that was bobbing among the roiling sea of oats before him. With a bowl in hand, he¡¯d draw up two heavy ladles full of oatmeal and move to slink his way aside from the windows gaze, whilst still maintaining his distance from the other foundlings in the room.


    Lucky, he mused as he cast a wary eye about the room remained just as empty as it was when he entered. For long had a trio of older fae-born boys from hospitals eastern wing seemingly had vowed to tormented him as he was the sole human within the foundling hospital. Their emenity, jabbing and physical mishandling of his person the catalyst of this clandestine effort to evade detection. Nikolai idly would draw up a spoonful of the churning gruel before him, moving to ladle it into his mouth, with surprisingly only a minor wince as the apples crunched a bit too eagerly within his mouth. He¡¯d work his jaw as he leaned back, mind racing at what state the streets would be in when he finally managed to evade the watchful gaze of the Matron. For he knew full well that the city would be bustling and lively, as today was the day that the great hosts of ships of the venerable Port of Saint Ferina would be making their return journeys from their vast trade routes or expeditions far over the untamed sea with vast holds full of trade goods and treasures from the wider world abound.


    Nikolai would swing his feet to and fro, freely on the bench as he wondered eagerly if several of his favorite Free-Companies had managed to return from their ventures and to what great riches they would bring. Whilst countless many vessels plodded the deep azure of the sea under the grand flags of the many great nation-states, none did so with the absolute authority and zeal as did the select few vessels bearing these ancient compacts, these ships and their stalwart crews authority was vested and maintained by some of the greatest powers within the nautical world of the day. These Free-Companies acted as the life-blood of the united world, sailing beyond the bounds of the marked map crossing boundary and border to exemplify the greatest attributes a sailor and ship can provide. Countless tales echo of noble ships and crew battling tyrants and cruel pirates that plagued the seas all around the world in their effort to maintain the peace that the world so long enjoyed.


    Those ships and their Companies, were ruled as a nation unto themselves, their Captain¡¯s their sole authority and representative whilst abroad and upon the shifting tides of the sea. To sail among the noble crews of one of these ships was of the highest and most daring order one could aspire, so thought and mused Nikolai as he day dreamed of a day so near that he may be able to stand upon the rigging of an ancient and potent Free-Company vessel, watching the Port of St. Ferina growing in a tiny dot of green in the distance. .The young lad sat idly in his daydream, the oatmeal he¡¯d fished forth, slumping off his spoon with a wet spatter back into the pool from which it was drawn. However this quite recollection was cracked when his ears perked up, the groan of the wooden boards of the ceiling above him. He¡¯d cast his gaze upward, then back to the food before him, shoveling it down as swiftly as he could. For he knew that such movement would only broadcast the slowly awakening trio that tormented him so, his choice of seating place himself square below the bed of one of the younger of their trio. He¡¯d hastily devour his meal, much to the surprise of the other three foundlings in the room with him. The harpy boy giving a quiet click of his jaw in what he could only have interpreted as awe.


    With his meal completed he¡¯d rise up and make his way as briskly as he could towards the door nearest the window, the last threshold that barred his way to the wider street beyond. He¡¯d move to briskly pass by at a rapid clip, his hand and empty bowl prepped in his grip to pass by. With a slight of hand, he¡¯d soundlessly place the bowl atop the counter¡¯s lip, and glide past it effortlessly, each step drawing a cold chill of dread at the center of his chest, waiting for the stern voice of the Matron to call out to him. However, no voice rings out to him, the sole noise he caught from the kitchen area, where the faint and soft sounds of small sibilant cries that had clearly drawn in the Matron¡¯s focus, her form hidden behind towering mountains of dishes and plates and heavy steam that roiled from several thrumming pots above crackling flames.


    With a sharp uptake in his pace, he¡¯d slide his hand upon the rope handle of the door and push it aside, slipping outside into the dazzling and partly blinding light of the early morning day. The street laid before him was wide and intensely cluttered, as the evening and dusk working merchants and their goods made their way back from the dock district of the port-cities lower quarter. The vast throngs and tides of the crowd would push and jockey for position as they made their way to their places of work and away from such heading wearily back home. Nikolai would come to a halt down at the edge of the street, casting his gaze up and down it''s length, noting that the long pathway lead squarely down to the docks of which there would the vast host of ships be making their arrivals. He¡¯d take a few cautious steps, steel hand coming up to block out the suns rays as he moved to stand within the shade of some of the looming shop facades and dingy houses. The dull hues of cracked and faded plaster siding and clay fired roof tiles overhead would be marred by the blur of movement the crowd provided. Dozens of heavy carts trundled forth, drawing by towering equines that whinnied and stomped their hooves as their steel shoes causing a great commotion that added to the incessant din that filled the carriageway. Nikolai would spot one of the carts nearest to him, moving somewhat slower than the rest, the low-born elfin driver bringing the carriage to a slow and even pace as he tried to avoid the interweaving pedestrians that deemed to chance their luck, weaving and dodging carts to reach the other side of the carriageway.


    Seeing this as his chance to clear more ground with neer a moment of work, Nikolai would wait till the carriage passed him, moving to jog alongside it''s rear wheel and small ladder that were left uncovered and unmarred. After a few moments of gauging his distance and speed, he¡¯d reach out with his steel hand and snag hold of the climbing ladder rung and would haul himself up and push his body flat against the groaning ladder, to ensure that he was firmly within the drivers blind spot. He¡¯d cast his gaze around at the passing faces that dotted the carriage walk¡¯s sidewalks, only a few of them paying him any mind, and most fortunately, none of the port¡¯s guards were on patrol in this quarter at the hour. Inwardly he beamed, a small smile crossed his lips as he felt the carriage bounce and rock on the uneven cobble pavement beneath the trundling wheels as the cart and it''s hanger-on would make their way down the dilapidated and aging city district¡¯s streets.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    Ever on he passed by the cracked facades of the myriad of shops and homes that comprised the lower wards of St. Ferina, it was here that a vast majority of the new arrivals and those economically downtrodden would find themselves within. However, the streets remained cheery, a mirthful air billowing as merchants in their cart-stalls would call forth in loud voices, offering forth goods and services to those seeking, for inwardly they knew that with the return of the grand ships of the many free-companies that with them would flow a boon of sailors their coin pouches fat with their pay and starved of distractions after months on the open sea, along with the vast influx of raw resource and material that comes when some of the grand treasure galleons arrive from the distant sand drown isles of the western realm.


    Nikolai would feel the cart bump sharply as the crooked and uneven cobble road would give way to intricate brickwork and neatly laid and pristinely kept carriage ways of the lower ward¡¯s dockyard. He¡¯d lean his way past the edge of the cart, risking the cart¡¯s driver spotting him, to get a look over the wide harbor below. His heart would race excitedly as he spied dozens, no hundreds of vessels all bobbing and trundling neatly upon the placid and sky blue waters of Ferina¡¯s harbor. Towering forms of vast squat treasure vessels, their intricate and sigil emblazoned sails unfurled and billowing in the sea-ward breeze would create vast splashes of color, from the warm hues of orange and yellows that composed Ferinian flagged vessels, to the bright silver and gold of the sleek and massive deep water trading sloops of the distant western lands of Saim¡¯Kushan. Interspersed among the towering and hulking hulled vessels that comprised the deep-water trade ships, were fleet and nimble formed vessels, sleek hulled sloops that danced and wove between their larger and broader kin as they moved and where leevied into dock by dozen to hundred man teams, hauling the vessels about with vast cabled ropes.


    Nikolai would release his grip from the ladder rung, and hop down at a moderate jog from the cart¡¯s rear, the driver none the wiser. The lad would move eagerly to the heavy chain barrier that overlooked the harbor, eyes straining as his gaze moves from ship to ship. He¡¯d bite his lip as he took stock of the ships that had come into port. He¡¯d spy the sleek and elegantly built form of a Highborn elfin vessel, The Animus, the vessels stunning shape and woodworking the product of generations of the most highly talented ship-makers on the Highborn¡¯s home isle of Yil¡¯iaster. He¡¯d watch and spy a dozens of forms darted hither and yonder, reefing the sails and making the ship ready to weight itself at port. Nikolai, beams excitedly for he had heard the tales of Captain Tal¡¯Kovan and his singing blades as he¡¯d dueled the Twin Viper pirates of the Miretides¡­.


    He shook his head, Focus! Focus! He¡¯s got to be here! He said he was only making a short jaunt southward¡­. His gaze returns once more to the harbor below, taking in the sight of the sizeable warship that graced it''s way across the ports further edge, the hulking mass of a heavy brig that sat low and deep in the water. The dull grey of her sails, provided a field for the bright scarlet rose to be emblazoned upon it. Nikolai¡¯s eyes widen in awe, as the squat and battered brig was none other than the Brier Rose! A vessel famed for it''s strange crew compositions and ports of call, her captain supposedly an animated doll, truly it was a strange time and day!


    However as he continued his searching, he¡¯d spy it, sitting far off alongside a trio of heavy frigates from the Ferinian navy. The elongated and elegant form of The Capricious Caravaner. Nikolai would tighten his grip upon the iron chain that provided the sole rail between him and the hills decent down to the harbor, for long had he followed the exploits of the Wayward Chronicler, for she was the first and foremost of the Great Companies that had set forth from the port of Ferina on expeditions far deep into the untamed fog shrouded southern seas, and lived to tell of tales from within! He¡¯d watch as near a dozen sailors would clamber up her mainmast and begin to reef her sails back, the ragged and patchy sails would be ponderously drawn back. All the way up here, even the young lad could tell she had been through a proper scrap! Her hull was pockmarked and patched over with dozens of charred timbers betraying the crackle of combat. Her gunports were marred and coated with a thick layer of soot from her cannons discharge.


    Nikolai would eagerly release his grip on the rail and move to race down along the carriageway, heading at full tilt sprint towards the lower docks as he spies the myriad of dock crews have already begun to haul the royal sloop into dock. He¡¯d weave and dodge aside cart bearing merchants that were busily trying to work down the somewhat steep gradient of the hill, his form nimbly darting and weaving among the throngs of the crowds that had taken notice of the ship coming to this region of the harbor. The growing crowds would give cheers as they spy the fluttering batter of Ferina atop the Caravanner. Nikolai would manage to weave his way past the bulk of the growing tide of elfin forms, his elbows pushing out to nudge his way through a few times. He¡¯d soon arrive at the head of the crowd, bumping into the chain rope that provided the barrier that divided the shipyard from the loading area in which the carriages and cargo wagons would be eagerly waiting to unload the vessel. Nikolai would skid to a halt, his boots skidding and kicking off rocks from the rise that he stood upon. He¡¯d strain his vision, watching as the huddled masses of the weary sailors would move to disembark from the vessel, their gangplank lowered as the host of sell-swords, mercenaries and errant blades would make their way from the ship. Their mood whilst tired was boisterous, several of them waving to the crowds as they delved away from the ship, funneling towards the harborside taverns and eateries. Nikolai beamed happily, for he spied elfin and wyldborn forms walking side by side with the grizzled and hardened humans from the northern isles, merrily jesting and laughing as if they¡¯d known one another their entire lives. The young lad¡¯s grip tightened on the chain, as he feels his heart thunder in his chest, for so long had he dreamed of walking the gangway up to the deck of the ship and joining in hand with her crew. More than anything else, he wanted to become part of something greater¡­ what could the seas offer him was a question that seemed so open ended and endless that it would stir the imagination.


    However, before he could lose himself to his flights of fantasy, he¡¯d spy a cohort of figures emerging from the ship, the last to depart. At the sight of the last contingent, moving to depart, Nikolai would hold up his clicking and whirring hand, waving excitedly as he tries to draw attention to himself whilst shouting over the crowd.


    ¡°Cap¡¯n! Captain Bulgraff! O¡¯er here! How was your voyage! Did ya find anythin¡¯ exciting!¡±


    The taller of the cohort would be given pause, Captain Bulgraff would have his attention drawn from his cartographer as he catches the voice calling to him. The entirely human captain was in the later part of his life, a thick pale silver beard clinging to his face, as he¡¯d cast a grizzled look over the crowd. He¡¯d notice the younger lad waving to him, and pause his progress forward, and turn to dismiss his bridge crew, whom would merely offer chuckles and friendly ribbings as Bulgraf would walk steadily over towards the rail in which Nikolai was calling from. The younger lads heart was aflutter as he watched Bulgraf move over to him, and stand before him, glancing up at the boy with a tired but friendly smile.


    ¡°Mhmm, glad to see your still gettin¡¯ around boy... ¡®ow¡¯s the tin arm doing?¡± Bulgraff would gingerly motion to Nikolai¡¯s arm, and nodding ¡°... You been behavin¡¯ yer¡¯self like I told ya too?¡±


    Nikolai would eagerly nod his head, his excitement causing his words to fumble and tumble over themselves ¡°Y-Yessir! I-I did everythin¡¯ you told me to! I-I have been makin¡¯ sure to heed the Matron and her instruction¡­. W-well as best I can Sir!¡± Nikolai would be given pause, and glance over at his arm, and frown slightly, returning his gaze towards Bulgraff, ¡°... I-It has sir, b-but my supply of arcane augites has run out¡­ ¡°


    Bulgraff would work his jaw idly, pausing as he reached within his naval frock, from his inner pocket he¡¯d remove a small sackcloth pouch and thumb it over. He¡¯d cast a glance back up at Nikolai and give him a firm nod, tossing him the pouch ¡°...Aye lad, ¡®is should get you through the year, found a few of ¡®em while down in Van Graff¡­¡± He¡¯d cry a wry smile ¡°...Don¡¯t let those other slippery boys take em from ya this time¡­¡±


    Nikolai would catch the small pouch, and hold it in his clasp as if he bore the crown jewels of the King of Legarde himself¡­ He¡¯d cast a glance back up to Bulgraff and nod, somewhat speechless as he felt no less than half a dozen of the stones. ¡°I-I don.. I can¡¯t Captain Bulgraff! These are yours... ¡° He¡¯d pause and brighten as he spies a chance and leaps to take it ¡°... A-At least let me pay ya back Cap¡¯n! Oh, please sir! Let me join ya crew as ya cabin boy! Please Cap¡¯n it''s the least I can do!¡±


    Bulgraff¡¯s smile would slowly trim itself down to a tight lipped frown, he¡¯d raise a gloved hand upward and place it against his temple, the dressing still fresh on his cheek. He¡¯d glance to and fro, his dull steel eyes seeming to look for¡­ something before he speaks up ¡°Mhmm, ¡®ow old are ya again lad? You know I ain¡¯t really seekin¡¯ fer a cabin boy, last one didn¡¯t handle the Fog-Tides too well...¡±


    Nikolai would feel his chest tighten as he was inquired, he¡¯d shift worriedly and silently tightening his grip on the chain before him as he replies in a softer tone ¡°A-Aye, I am in my fourteenth season Cap¡¯n, b-but I can work ¡®ard just like any of the other members of ya crew! I won¡¯t even complain!¡±


    Bulgraff shifts, casting his gaze up at Nikolai, there was compassion in his eyes almost akin a warning not to follow in this line of inquiry, however his words struck the young boy like a shot from a cannonade ¡°Sorry lad, far too young still, ya still a young pup at the core of it¡­ Eh, gotta wait a few years yet, why not get yer¡¯self an apprenticeship tinkerin¡¯ with the thingamajigs ya arm is made of? ¡­.¡± He¡¯d shift and hook a finger to the brim of his tricone and tip it in the direction of Nikolai ¡°You go blaze ya own trail, and don¡¯t get caught up like we salty dogs, and stay safe now, ya hear lad?¡± He¡¯d cast Nikolai a wave before he¡¯d wheel about and give a lingering look at the young lad before moving back to rejoin his bridge crew, the throng pushing back to rejoin the stream of crewmen that had filed from the vessel.


    Nikolai would slump forward, resting his weight on the chain as he clutched the sackcloth pouch in his free hand. His gaze following following the sole human captain and his own idol as he moved off and merged into the distant blur of the common folk moving about upon the streets and interspersed among the crowd. He¡¯d work his jaw, feeling suddenly tired despite the early hours of the morning, before he¡¯d rise up shift his way through the crowd, heading off further down the carriage way, thumbing over bag in hand.


    ¡°That¡¯s how it always is, ain¡¯t it?....¡± He¡¯d pause, as he feels the claws of melancholy and disappointment well within him, it was so easy to succumb to such despair, easier than most would imagine. However, he¡¯d known full well that such an answer might have come, and Bullgraff¡¯s words bear truth to them, Blaze your own trail. Nikolai would give a chuckle as he as he glances up at the carriageway ahead, feeling a bit of pep kick back up into his step, as he makes his headway now for the distant ship breaker-yard on the outer limits of the Port¡¯s perimeter. ¡°... Not yet, but someday¡­¡±

 Chapter 3 - The Misfits Three

    The winding carriageway path would lead Nikolai along through the dense and sometimes errantly snaking roads of the dockside quarter of the Port, steaming headlong for the distant and outer walls of the city. The route would take him past several fully packed taverns and inns, bustling with the new arrivals from across the seas. The young lad would cast his gaze and linger for but a moment as he spied dozens if not hundreds of unique faces along his route, from the silver and golden robe bound sailors from the distant dunes of the western Kalphs, to the overly tidy and clean pressed naval frocks of the southern house of Van Graff, the gambit of sailors present would run wild.


    But, he could not afford to terry, for he knew full well that by ensnaring Bulgraff into conversation, he¡¯d burned precious time. His pace increased to an idle jog as he came into the lower plaza of the dock ward, his steps carefully to avoid the packed stalls that crowd and drown the area in a deluge of shouts and hawking wares. The crumbling building facades of the plaza would be alight with flickering lanterns and dancing light as dozens of freshly arrived merchants, swapped and unloaded goods and product from dock-hands in a vast and chaotic handover. Nikolai would weave his way past, a large rotund merchant arguing with an unimpressed elfin sailor, his face a mix of undisguised agitation as they squabble over fresh product that seemed to have taken the trip across the sea quite poorly. The duo would be so caught up in their exchange they failed to notice Nikolai move between the idle cart and vault the merchants counter.


    The move gave him a clear shot to the edge of the towering gatehouse, ringing the western edge of the plaza loomed an impressive bulwark of intricately layered stones that towered high over the multi-story buildings that ringed the plaza in it''s heart. These monumental walls seemed quiet this eve, the vast gate stood wide open as no guards appeared to be standing by or inspecting those that came and went from the district. Inwardly, Nikolai noted the lack of guards with a frown, Must be off trying to handle the influx of outsiders, they tend to get a bit rowdy when the great trade ships arrive¡­.


    Without missing a step, he¡¯d depart from the chaotic nexus of the plaza bound and heading off along a crudely laid road of weathered stone that lead off into the encroaching tropical plant life that dominated the horizon now. The bright flashes of green and the faint /shimmer of colors among the dense foliage were a welcome relief to the drab and somewhat dull colors of Ferina¡¯s lower quarters. Along the road were densely layered tropical flora, who¡¯s wide leaves would cover over the dense mixture of sand and tightly packed earth that they grew and festered upon. The towering palm-like trees loomed overhead as he made his way down and away into the deeper trails, their dense canopy overhead cast long and cool shadows against the repressive tropical heat, of which Nikolai was thankful to be out of the boiling sun.


    Passing through a somewhat unkempt crossroads, he¡¯d reach up with his steel hand and soundly slap an old and groaning wooden sign. A wide grin on his face as he passes by the old road marker, the faded and cracked head-board indicating that should he take the route he¡¯d marched a hundred times, that he¡¯d find himself among the wide and expansive beaches of the isles western shore. The first sight of which was the foliage before him peeling back slowly with each step he took, almost akin a curtain, from which he would emerge upon the bright and dazzling sands of this stage. The view stretched for near a hundred yards, unbroken pristine sand that raced down into the frothing and softly breaking waves that rolled up the beach at low tide. He¡¯d raise a hand to block out the sheer volume of dazzling light that streamed down from the sun on-high, as he peered further down the beach, a smile crossing his face as he spied his destination.


    For long had large ship-breaking operations taken place upon this remote corner of the isle, vast wooden merchantmen who¡¯s time had come and gone, would lay sprawled across the beach front further along the beaches contour, vast abandoned wenches and intricate cranes would sit idly by, their vast wooden and steel structures defunct and idle after the closure of the breaker yard by the ruling council some years back.


    Nikolai would keep up his brisk pace as he moved towards the abandoned yard, knowing full well that he was late for a meeting of his fellow misfits. He¡¯d idly pass by dozens of old and rotting ships, ranging from broken keeled warships, who¡¯s glory had been spent and used in some great clash far before Nikolai was born, all the way to vast and fat trade ships who¡¯s careers or captains had finally turned over to a life aboard the isles. Whatever fate may have brought these silent hulks here, it was long since over, their broken and crooked masts rising up like broken trees whose canopies had been sheared away, their faded and pallid sails hanging like funeral shrouds across their great and vast forms.


    The young lad made his way onward, ducking beneath fallen mizzenmasts and the broken and crumbling hulls of these vast ships as he strove headlong towards the largest at its heart. For seated upon a vast stone retrofit dock, sat the heavily sagging form of a venerable frigate from the ancient Ferinian navy. The towering triple deck frigate would sag heavily, as the old timbers and supports that held up her venerable form, had long since given way, giving her a broken keel and a resting place atop a mound of debris at the bottom of the vast drydock in which she was stationed. The massive pit below her had been partially filled with broken timbers and old material that gave the old ship the appearance of a castle amid a vast stone mote, broken timbers it''s snapping beasts in it''s depth.


    The sole way across, was a well affixed and crudely constructed gangway that stretched from the drydock¡¯s edge all the way up to the upper deck of the vessel¡¯s port side. Nikolai would briskly make his way up the steep incline, clearing each step with effortless ease as he¡¯d walk these stairs a hundred times before in the past. Upon his arrival to the top deck, he¡¯d cast a cautious glance around, ensuring that he was indeed alone for now up here. He¡¯d remove his tricone and flourish the hat, gingerly greeting an unseen crew as he stepped down from the gangway to the ships deck, in his mind¡¯s eye he could see dozens of sailors giving silent cheer to their captain¡¯s arrival upon deck.


    He¡¯d eagerly move past these fictional individuals as he moves further up the ships quarterdeck, moving to stand alongside a sagging figure that hung draped over the ships broken wheel. Nikolai would come up alongside the limp figure and give them a solid nudge in the gut, placing his hat back on his head squarely


    ¡°Oi! First Mate! You know full well your duty! No sleeping on the job!¡±


    He¡¯d huff in a commanding tone, before leaning forth to haul the figure upright. The individual, in question, was none other than the old and tattered clothes from a farmhand that had been soundly stuffed with straw and given a sackcloth head, with an angry scowl marked upon it in charcoal. The clearly grumpy stuffed crewmen would resist his captain, trying to limply fall down till he was tight squarely and unceremoniously to the wheel, which would draw a satisfied grin from the young captain as he slaps his dummy navigator on the back


    ¡°There you are, a proper sailor now! Now stand too and keep watch¡­ we can¡¯t have you slacking off again!¡± He¡¯d give a salute before taking hold of his tunic¡¯s collar, moving back to inspecting the rest of the empty deck, as if he were an officer with his hand upon his cleanly pressed naval frock, eyeing the ship as she broke and sailed forth against the sea.


    However his merrymaking and antics soon would come to a slow halt when he caught wind of ever so faint musical tones upon the wind. Such would pique his curiosity, as he¡¯d move down the stairs from the quarter deck, back onto the main deck. He craned his head about, trying to glean the source of the music and where it might be coming from, the noise of the soft breeze billowing the ragged sails that hung from the creaking main-mast would softly provide a dull ambiance. But there it was, as faint as ever upon the winds, the dull ringing of soft chimes in a steady and paced manner not unlike that of a quaint and antiquated music box. Nikolai would adjust his hat, round the bottom of the stairs as he peers down into the lower hold.


    His brows would furrow as he wasn¡¯t sure he¡¯d ever heard a music box play before at least out here among the wrecks and debris of the old breakers yard. He moves down to the threshold of the ships stairway into the second level, the rays of light would outline him in the shadow covered and dark lower segment of the ship¡¯s hold.


    He¡¯d strain his ears, the nose was definitely coming from below in the hold far below him. With careful placement of his boots upon the groaning planks below him, Nikolai would carefully descend down the stairway, arriving at the second deck with but a few steps, his heart thundering worriedly as he peers round the broken edge of the walls that flanked the stairs. At first glance he could neer spy a thing, his vision poorly adjusted and fresh from the beaming radiance of the sun above.


    He strains his eyes, peering at murky shapes within the shadow of the hold, finally, he slightly releases the grip on the stair¡¯s rail, as he realizes he is looking at broken and time weathered barrels and crates that lay strewn haphazardly about in a messy pile across the deck flooring and the nearby. Several large and forlorn cannons would sit within their mounts, their rusted and pitted dull black surfaces slouched against their sealed gunports. Beyond them the old cargo hatch was left wide open, the dull light radiating down from the sky above, to cast a single shaft of light from on-high.


    Nikolai would carefully approach the edge of the cargo hatch in the center of the deck, glancing first downward, then back up to the sky above. Far below him, lay the third and lower hold, piles of broken material and scrap timber would lay piled so high that the lower hold¡¯s cargo entrance would be barred by the mind boggling amount of debris and junk laid scattered about. The movement of Nikolai¡¯s boot upon the edge of the cargo-hatch would cause a cascade of wispy sand to slide and shift free from the edge it was perched upon, faintly falling down with the faint and soft sound as it impacted below. He¡¯d work his jaw, glancing back behind him, at the nooks and overturned crates to ensure that he was truly alone, before moving over to play a boot on a ladder rung that ran down to the third deck¡¯s heart.


    The rungs would groan in protest as his boots come to rest against the aging timbers. Hand under hand, he¡¯d work to lower himself down ladder rung built into the cargo hatches thick timber supports that ran from her hull to the upper deck. When he strikes the half-way mark, Nikolai moves his head around, trying to take stock of the deck and it''s layout, as this portion of the hull was rarely visited by the lad as his preference lay in the upper deck work. The third deck was a chaotic mess of shattered wooden crates and broken open chests, the hull in several places had been breached and a deluge of sand had flowed in doubtlessly during one of the many storms that wrack the isle during the rainy season. Loose rigging and bundles of hanging line, would give the deck an almost cavernous like appearance, the natural state of the area long since gone as time had moved into reclaim it. However, as he swept his gaze across the open and shattered piles of debris and broken tools, the faintest of shimmers would catch his eye. Opposite him, on the starboard side of the ship, one of the gunports for a long vacant cannon position, would have been wretched aside, beams of light filtering in and upon a neatly laid out box.


    Sitting atop of these tidied crate, would be the faintly moving form of a wind up music box, the dull brass of its outer case layered with time eaten leather would rock and move slightly as the cylinder at its core would turn over slowly, a dulcet and somewhat haunting tune would echo forth into the room, seeming to drown out the soft ambiance the ocean provided in the distance. Nikolai would slowly lower himself down to the deck, whilst checking his footing cautiously as dozens of loose heavy bound rope would lay criss crossing the ground like heaving packs of pythons eager to coil about and ensnare him. Each step he¡¯d take was brisk and preplanned, as he moved carefully across the deck towards the small music box, with wary look about, he¡¯d lean down to inspect the small trundling object. Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    Internally the soft glow of a jade augite would betray the arcane nature of the device, faintly the soft sound of clicking and whirring tiny cogs and gears would grow a touch louder as he¡¯d reach out to try and ensnare the small box, who¡¯s tune whilst familiar would elude him.. That was up until the flicker of movement by his right foot caught his attention, amide the sweet dulcet ringing of the tiny music box as it played it''s melody, there was the sound of heavy wrought chain links falling upon one another. Nikolai would instantly freeze, keeping his body save for his head frozen, as his gaze slowly lowers to the source of the commotion, spying, interwoven among the heavy bands of rope and broken timber, rested a loop of chain forged from deep black iron.


    His eyes would widen as he realized that he¡¯d fallen square into a trap, but with precious few seconds, perhaps he could avert the catastrophe in the making. Slowly but surely, the chain shifted as he placed a touch more of his weight upon his right boot, his muscles coiling and going taut as he prepared to make his move. Only one shot at this¡­ He¡¯d slowly stand upright, his hands once poised to pick up the faintly clicking music box would move aside ever so slightly to allow him to gain a touch of balance. After a few heartbeats, he¡¯d notice the heavy chain, slowly wind tighter in it''s lose coil another link. It''s now or never!


    He grits his teeth, and with all his might lept upward, aiming to get a foothold upon the box that sat before him with the music box. The moment he sprung forward, the chain would instantly snap shut its coiled form in the empty space where Nikolai¡¯s boot had been formerly. The chain instead, ensnaring and cracking an old wooden stool leg that had been carelessly discarded and laid at the unfortunate angle to be susceptible to such. The heavy chain would wrap about it and with a sudden movement, the stool-leg and chain would be whipped back from the port-side gunport, flying across the open space at the deck center in a shower of sand and the blinding blur of movement. The wooden leg of the stool would sail forth and impact against the deck above them, before clattering upon the floor and resting inert as the chain is shook loose and reeled back into the deep shadow of the vessels port-side.


    Nikolai would land, uneasily wobbling as the crate below him groaned in protest, as he worked to right himself and face the unseen attacker that had attempted to haul him away into the shadowy mountain of crates that rose and covered like a veil the opposite side of the room. With a quick glance about him, he spied it! His blade, his steel hand would dart out, ensnaring the broken end of a wooden table-leg, brandishing his ¡°blade¡± with gusto as a satisfied smirk would plaster itself to his face, his voice once more bold and daring in tone and volume.


    ¡°Hah! Thought you could catch me off guard now, eh? Clever trick with the music box, but I ain¡¯t no fool! I know full well that this was another clever ruse by you and your pirate ilk! You can¡¯t catch Cap¡¯n Yuugo that easily!¡±


    He¡¯d branish the broken and blunted smooth table-leg towards the looming dark opposite him, his eyes catching movement as one of the shadows seems to detach itself from the opposite wall, shifting as the heavy dragging sound of the crude iron chains groan and creak upon one another. Faintly the shifting form would move itself upon a box so that it was on the same level as Nikolai, the relatively indistinct form would place it''s hands confidently where it''s hips were as a pair of faintly glowing motes of color would stare intently back at him. The amber eyes of the shadowy figure would shimmer slightly, faintly as if lit from within as the figure raises their hands upward, heavy shackles and chains rattling as they dangle from thick manacles upon their wrist. A boisterous feminine laugh boomed from the figure, an obvious attempt being made to lower their tone and pitch to sound far more intimidating.


    ¡°Ho Ho?~ Is that so Captain Yuugo? It seems that your luck has finally run out, as the music box was merely my decoy¡­. For it was my servant whom was to cut you down by his hands!¡±


    The shadowy figure, gestures in an overly dramatic fashion oft to Nikolai¡¯s left, to which he¡¯d cast his gaze sharply in the indicated direction, his face a mask of shocked surprise. Off behind a collection of broken galley tables, would spring a lankly cloaked form, clad from head to toe in deep black robes and tidily kept dress frock of the similar ebony hue. The only thing that stood out was the stark grey mask the figure wore, elongated and shaped in the style of a corvidae bird. The bird-masked robed figure would spring forth from their hiding spot, gloved hands wrapped in the heem of their cloak as they raise their hands skyward aiming to make their sweeping cloak mime that of a raven¡¯s wings. A muffled yell would echo forth from the masked figure as it races forward, hands upward with their cloak billowing dramatically behind them.


    Nikolai would adjust his grip on his faux ¡°blade¡± holding it at the ready, shocked entirely that he¡¯d been so lax and caught off guard, in his own domain nonetheless! He¡¯d watched with wide eyes as the sweeping raven masked clad individual would dart towards him, as his mind raced for a away to escape this clever vice his devious foes had caught him between!


    However, somewhat unexpectedly, the raven masked figure would be rapidly high-stepping over piles of debris on his way towards Nikolai most notably a broken and cracked chair from the old officers quarters. In their haste they seemed to have failed to have noticed one errant length of rope that sat upright in a neat and tidy loop just perfectly at his boot height. The raven masked figure would step down upon the loop, raising their foot up as they move to take another step, only to find their momentum arrested suddenly. The confident muffled warcry the figure would be making on their charge is stunted as they stagger and wheel about, trying to get their feet back beneath them. For several long seconds, the cloaked figure would stagger, teetering on the verge of falling as they fight and kick to disentangle themselves from the heavy snare of rigging rope. Almost as if in slow motion, the cloaked figure would wheel about almost pirouette in place before their fall begins.


    The cloaked figure eventually falls forward, colliding with one of the support beams to the deck above. The impact pushing the air from the figures lungs as a grasping wheeze is all that is heard as they lay there stunned for a few heartbeats. Such did not last as they resumed crumbling against it like soaked parchment, arriving in an embarrassing heap as they cry out in a pang of pain, a muffled and pained whimper would escape the masked figure before the muffled voice of a young lad would call out from behind the mask.


    ¡°Ow! Owh! No! No more! O-Ow! I am out!¡­. Huuuu¡­¡± The masked figure would slowly push himself upright, leaning down as he placed a hand upon his chest, wheezing as he rocks back and forth, a heavy stutter punctuating his words ¡°W-Who l-l-left the broken chair there! I t-thought we agreed that I can¡¯t jump that w-w-with my hurt k-knee!¡±


    The shadowy figure would instantly break character, moving free from the looming length of shade that encompassed them, their eyes worriedly watching the lankly form of their co-conspirator as head over to stand alongside the downed boy, whom rolled about in pain. Clearly with the fun having been brought to an unexpected halt, Nikolai would toss aside his ¡°blade¡± and clamber down from the box, moving to check on his friend who¡¯s fits had yet to subside.


    Preceded by the dull amber glow of her eyes all while standing a head taller than Nikolai, the lankly form of the wyldborn-oni Fuyumi, would loom from the shadows and over her peers. Atop her head lay a lengthy crop of dull ebony locks, hanging far down her back and almost covering her face with her bangs. She¡¯d tilt her head to inspect the masked lad, o¡¯er head did a pair of tall horns that reached skyward in an elegant curve, adorned with bright and colorful ribbons following her head movements. Heavy chains were tightly wrapped about her forearms and clasped to rusting manacles at her wrist the chains resting in two dense bundles, far oversized for the taut and willowy arms she had as those iron lengths hid and veiled nasty sutured nicks and cuts. In concern she¡¯d stoop down, her stitch-work and crudely fashioned dress and shaw would hang from her muscular frame like a heavy mismatched length of sheets as she knelt down beside the masked boy. A nervous tapping of keen, unnaturally long claw-like nails scratch upon her cheek, worriedly tracing dull black inked clan markings that stood opposed to the pale scarlet hue of her flesh. ¡°Oh¡­. Oops, I forgot to move it last night, s-sorry Bennie, your not hurt bad, right? Just spooked ya was all, yeah?¡±


    The masked boy, Benedict would shift and finally perch himself upright on his knees, wheezing as he rubbed his chest, masked face being shaken to and fro to indicate his displeasure. He¡¯d get himself seated, with a huff and glance between both Nikolai and Fuyumi, muffled displeasure upon his stuttering tone ¡°Y-yes I am alright, just a bit of a t-t-trip is all¡­¡± He casted a masked glance towards Fuyumi, his blank expression almost palpable despite the mask ¡°.. Though I would advise not to leave things lying about, as it leads to dubious and calamitous things as this event illustrates¡­¡±


    He¡¯d rise slowly, brushing the dust and sand from his pristine ebony robes and attire. Benedict Innsmoor was the sickly half-elfin son of a wealthy and renowned alchemist from the upper quarter of St. Ferina, and whilst he looked sorely out of place with the duo before him wherever the trio went, he was eternally and staunchly fond of his two friends as they pulled him from the blaze of social missteps on far too many times one would be willing to count.


    Nikolai would crack a wry grin and leans over to give Benedict a sound slap of the hand between Benedict¡¯s shoulders,


    ¡°Awww, come on Bennie! Cheer up, we are sorry for that¡­ How about next time, you and me can switch? Yeah? How does that sound, you can be the uhhhh¡­.¡±


    He pauses and snaps his steel fingers a few times trying to recall his friends fictional title, as Benedict would turn his masked face stare blankly at Nikolai, a muffled flat retort his reply.


    ¡°It was the Wondrous Wizard of Wymer!...¡± He shakes his head, the faint ruffle of scented herbs and salves radiate from his masks leather stitching near it beak, he¡¯d sigh ¡°... But yes, I would like to do that very much, I¡¯ve played the Dark Raven for the last few times¡­ I would so d-d-dearly like to be the good guy for a change¡± He¡¯d tap his forefingers together nervously as he glances between the duo. Fuyumi would reach over and place a heavy hand on his head and give a wide grin, ruffling his hood.


    ¡°Dun¡¯t worry bout it Benie, it''s only fair! I wanna be a shrine maiden this time! We can team up against the vile pirate lord and bring his reign of terror to an end!¡±


    Nikolai would cast a glance between the duo, a sly look on his face as he assumes a dramatic stance, legs astride and the back of his hand before his face, a mocking laugh issuing from him


    ¡°Buwaha! Such fools! To think you could stand ¡®fore the might of the Dread Captain Yuugo! Master of the Forbidden Seas!¡±


    Fuyumi would feign shock, as she takes a step back, her leather boots causing the deck to groan, she¡¯d cast a playful look towards Benedict, whom was standing unmoving. Benedict would merely raised a gloved hand and indicate to Nikolai¡¯s chest, with a slightly worried tone,


    ¡°N-Nikolai, instead, first off how about I freshen up your bandages?.... We might need to sit down for a moment¡­¡±


    Nikolai would give him a puzzled look, glancing over at Fuyumi, who¡¯s playful look would have vanished in an instant the moment she followed Benedict¡¯s gaze. She¡¯d place her hands over her mouth in worry and nod, voice soft and cautious


    ¡°Aye, Nikolai, uhh lets just sit down for a bit, and let Benie do his work¡­ Y-Your bleeding again.¡±


    Nikolai would pause, feeling a faint warmth speckle his chest, as he¡¯d glance down, trying to figure out what they both were indicating to. And surely enough, the stark white dressings that crossed and wrapped about his chest, where stained with faint droplets of dull crimson. He¡¯d place his hand over his chest, and give a displeased sigh. Outwardly disappointed that this was what interrupted their fun.


    ¡°Y-Yeah I guess, Bennie, you said that you were working on some stuff fer me and Fuyumi?...¡±


    Benedict would nod rapidly, moving back a few paces as he moves off into the nearest of the corners of the ship, a vast and bloated pile of satchels and heavy back-carried cases befitting of a roving apothecary would be stacked neatly aside¡­


    ¡°Indeed, my friend, I brought everything my tutors had suggested and father speculated might provide a boon to either of you and your unique conditions. I feel like today is the day we will make a break though!¡±

 Chapter 4: The Pieces upon the Board

    A biting pain raced across Nikolai¡¯s back, expanding outward from the twisted bulb of distended and warped flesh that crawled across his back like a vine upon a building facade. His entire body would ripple from the shock of the stinging sensation that now found it''s home upon his back between his shoulder blades. He thrashes a bit, trying to twist away from the tiny wad of cotton that was being dabbed upon his flesh, tiny motes of dark maroon color being carefully placed upon his malformities. He sharply yelps and pulls back and away, shuddering at the burning sensation as he places a hand upon his face whilst biting down harshly on his steel knuckle, muffled voice expressing boundless agitation.


    ¡°Bennie! I asked if ya had a fix for me, not to burn me to a crisp! Augh! Can ya give me a moment of peace?¡±


    Benedict stood silently behind him, moving in small concentric circles with a pair of incision forceps clasping a small soaking ball of cotton. He glances over Nikolai¡¯s shoulder and shakes his head, as he moves to dab the small wad of cotton in the glass container he has in his off-hand, nestled far behind him was the presence of nearly a half dozen bags of various sizes, each one filled to the brim with various medical goods ranging from the mundane to the fairly extravigate in terms of material and time used to fashion them.


    ¡°Now Now, stop being so dramatic, this isn¡¯t burning you. Nay, I¡¯d say it''s quite the opposite, Father claims that he uses this and mend-root to compose the most wonderful of healing draughts. It burns because the salve is trying to draw¡­¡± He¡¯d pause and tilt his masked face curiously ¡°...Well whatever it is that is afflicting you, perhaps it is working?¡±


    As the small masked lad would continue his ministrations, Fuyumi would sit down beside them, sprawled out on a cracked box, as she watches with intense and unveiled interest as they go about their daily routine. She throws a glance towards Benedict and gives a fanged smile,


    ¡°Ooo! Look at that! It makes his skin look sorta funny, he is jumpin¡¯ round like a hot bean on a stove!¡±


    She gives a snicker and teases at Nikolai, whom merely gives a displeased grunt for his retort. Benedict does however cast a masked glance over to her as well, she shrinks back slightly as she knows what is coming next. Fuyumi would worriedly move to cover her forearms once more with the heavy chains, the flash of sutures and sore red welts about them betraying the fact that she herself was far from free of aliment.


    ¡°Oh by all means, continue to jest at Master Nikolai¡¯s expense, you know full well that your the next item on the docket. I know the cuts on your back and forearms weren¡¯t treated properly. I can see by how red your flesh has gotten that your not taking care of yourself¡­ Have you been changing the bandages out regularly and in addition I know you haven¡¯t been using the salve I gave to you a few nights back as I found the vial broken in the waste bin near the eastern gate.¡±


    Fuyumi would glance away, awkwardly twirling a lock of hair around her keen nails, trying worriedly not to give Benedict the satisfaction of being right, she¡¯d stammer and try to find the right words to evade the inevitable as she fidgets about on her box. Outwardly she appeared fine and healthy, a bit taller and stronger than most of her age, but the trio always marked such up to the notion that she was a bit different. As it wasn¡¯t uncommon for Fuyumi¡¯s wounds to weep estranged tar like substances from time to time, which Benedict always dreaded having to mend and clean, though the cause of such remained an enigma to the trio as no apothecary within the city¡¯s wards seemed willing to inspect her.


    ¡°W-What? No, Benie, your vision musta got worse, I ain¡¯t no redder than I always am¡­¡± She¡¯d lean over and hold up her forearms, the chains sliding down them with a faint clatter, as she pats the pale scarlet flesh ¡°... See! Always red, ain¡¯t nothin changed!¡±


    Benedict would merely withdraw the harsh smelling chemical salve from Nikolai¡¯s back, the twitching unnatural tendrils beneath his flesh would shudder and twinge visibly, to which his friend would quickly pull away from the masked apothecary, adjusting the new and fresh bandages his companion had provided him. The masked lad would merely move over to Fuyumi, glancing up at her face as he cocks his head to the side a chiding tone tingeing his voice.


    ¡°You know full well, I can¡¯t in good conscious, let you go back to the monastery without any kind of treatment, you know as well as I do that if I don¡¯t tend to your affliction here, that no one with proper training will¡­ Besides I have a sinking feeling that you didn¡¯t go to your prioress and seek out permission to come here to play with us today, did you?¡±


    Fuyumi would pause, her mouth going mum as she glances up and away, chewing on the tip of her nail worriedly as she tries not to make eye contact with the chidding masked boy. Her face was one of guilty admissions as she shrugs her shoulders, locks of hair bobbing with the motion.


    ¡°I mean¡­..course I did Benie, The sister superior said I could come play, I ain¡¯t in trouble or nuffin¡­. Besides they ain¡¯t got time to check on my anyway since one of them fancy ships from Maiden¡¯s Respite came into harbor today. They are trying to get news and what not from them other folks aboard.¡±


    The masked boy would cast a glance towards Nikolai, who he himself would be mirroring the look of blank disbelief Benedict hide beneath his mask, as Nikolai would motion towards Fuyumi with a concerned look on his face, speaking up once more.


    ¡°Aye, Fuyumi, it ain¡¯t good for ya to be sneakin¡¯ out¡­ I mean we don¡¯t want ya to get a whippin on accounta me and Bennie here¡­¡±


    To which Benedict would nod his head emphatically, before he¡¯d move to stand at her side, instinctively lifting her arm upward and level with him, as he moves aside several of the heavy chains, starting to feel around for a brace of stitches. Fuyumi would merely wince at the contact as Benie found his mark, his hands working to snag a new ball of cotton as he prepared a new ointment for use.


    ¡°Oh? Pffft, like ya one to talk Nikolai, we all know ya sneak out of the foundling home each mornin¡­¡± She gives a sharp hiss, and snaps her jaw shut as Benedict begins to apply the searing ointment to her flesh, the scarlet skin turning a hue darker. ¡°... And Benie ain¡¯t no better, he asks his papa fer permission, but said he lies ¡®bout where he is going! Don¡¯t be chidin¡¯ me fer this¡­¡±


    Benedict would give pause, as he moves to check over his stitching, inspecting a dark and inky ichor that seemed to have ebbed from the weeping marr. He¡¯d merely move to ready a clean handkerchief and idly wipe away such, moving to clean her stitching as he returns his focus once more to her.


    ¡°Now your just being disingenuous, I¡¯ll have you know that papa knows full well where I am, and who I am with.. Just not all the time or when he is in a poor mood¡­.¡± He¡¯d bob his masked head, and idly swap out tiny vials of material with a nimble free hand ¡°... And neither of us are watched or looked over quite the way you are. Have they at least given you the chance to leave the lower levels of the abbey during the daylight hours? Or perhaps to attend a benediction?¡±


    Fuyumi sighs, her face wincing in time with the dabbing of the cotton ball laden with a sweet smelling scent. She merely gives a quiet shrug and would bob her head side to side.


    ¡°I mean¡­. They sorta do, I ain''t allowed into the sanctum still, but they said I was makin¡¯ good progress on my prayer readin¡¯. Sister Marii said that I might be able to tend to the undercroft in a few years¡­¡± She sighs tiredly and shakes her head ¡°... Sorta stinks, being cooped up in my little room in the lower levels¡­ ¡®ats why I like sneakin¡¯ out here with you guys! Oh and Benie always brings me a sweet bun from his mama¡¯s kitchen!¡±


    Benedict gives a sharp hiss to try and shush the girl, but it was too late, as he glances over to meet Nikolai¡¯s gaze. His opposite having crossed his arms, with a smirk on his face, a teasing tone in voice ¡°Oh?~ Does he now? Well Benie, that just ain¡¯t fair! I wanna a sweet roll next time ya mama bakes em, Matron Sa¡¯Vass ain¡¯t good with sweets I tell ya what¡­¡±


    The masked boy would shake his head and move to continue his treatment of the lankly oni giving her a slight pinch with his forceps as some measure of payback for letting his little secret slip, however his tone even and measured in it''s response.


    ¡°Now, Now Nikolai you know full well if I am to sneak far more than my fair share of sweet rolls from mama¡¯s kitchen, papa will give whipping to remind me that I can¡¯t eat too much sugar or else it''s going to rot my teeth. Namely because he will suspect that I am eating all the sweet rolls myself¡­¡±


    Nikolai would lean back against the broken timber of a support beam, crossing his natural and artificial arm with a chuckle ¡°Aight, fine then, but I want first pick on the next roll, fair? If Fuyumi gets one, I want one the next time! Seems fair to me.¡±


    Fuyumi would give a faux scowl at Nikolai and stick her unnaturally long tongue out in protest, blowing a raspberry at him before she snaps her mouth shut, another searing sting dancing across her back as Benedict moves to treat her a nasty welt on her back, a few angry red lines betraying the fact she wasn¡¯t the most obedient child.


    ¡°Oh bahh! Your just a sore loser, if ya managed to get here earlier like we do, I¡¯d be willing to share it with ya! Well¡­. Maybe.¡± She bobs her head side to side ¡°Ehhh¡­ sometimes.. On the oft day or rare occasion¡±


    Nikolai would wave his hand idly, dismissing the thought as he sat upright once more, glancing between Benie and Fuyumi with a snap of his finger, a wide grin on his face. If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    ¡°Naw nevermind the roll, I was teasin¡¯, but, did ya hear that tonight is a gonna be fairly warm? You know what that means, if we ¡®ead over to the reflection gardens outside the southern gate, out near the lake, we can find some of those dawn-thistles out in bloom! If we manage to bag some of em, we could give them to your papa Benie¡­..those fetch a pretty coin, with that we could add it to our ship-buy fund!¡±


    The duo of Fuyumi and Benedict would exchange a glance worriedly between one another, with Benedict giving a scratch at the back of his neck awkwardly,


    ¡°W-While we could do that, do remember that Wallace and his friends like to romp around that part of the isle, and uhhh¡­ last time they threw rocks at us when we tried to harvest their day-thistle¡­¡±


    Nikolai would give another wave of the hand ¡°Bah! Fret not! It''s too early in the month for that spoiled brat to be out and about, besides his family was on holiday in Keavos.. I say it''s the perfect time to slip in and see what we can collect! We might be able to buy a dinghy with that coin.¡±


    Fuyumi would shake her head, ribbons fluttering about to add emphasis to her words, as she would give an uneasy look to the excited lad.


    ¡°I dunno Nikolai, you are always talkin¡¯ bout savin¡¯ up all the coin we find and buying a boat. But boats are for the rich folk in the merchant quarter, how would we ever get up enough coin to even buy one? Better question would be what to do with a boat even if we ¡®ad one!¡±


    Benedict would pause his wrapping of the oni¡¯s arm with several fresh dressings, casting his gaze over towards Nikolai, with a pang of regret in his voice.


    ¡°Aye, I am not certain that papa would approve of me, rushing off and galavanting about the sea, he has told me that he wants me to inherit his trade, and truthfully I do want to help people¡­ I don¡¯t know what good I would be out at sea, cut off from all the supplies one would need to mend a fever or bind a wound.¡±


    Nikolai would glance between the duo, bearing a defeated look, idly fiddling with his steel hand as he slowly swings his legs, the wind had been sapped from him as inwardly he mulled over the day how nothing seemed to have went to plan, his gaze would move from Benedict then to Fuyumi as he spoke in a quiet tone,


    ¡°Yeah, I suppose. But what ¡®bout ya sense of adventure? I mean haven¡¯t y¡¯all ever just gotten tired of living in the port like we do? Your my friends, and I love y¡¯all to death but¡­¡± He¡¯d indicate outwards beyond the wall in Ferina¡¯s direction ¡°... It ain¡¯t really for us, is it? I mean if¡¯n we loved livin¡¯ in the city so much, wouldn¡¯t we be in the city? I just find it strange, like it doesn¡¯t make much sense in the whole big picture. Besides that who really knows what the world has out there? Maybe we could end up finding things and makin¡¯ a mark on history.¡±


    Nikolai¡¯s tone was panged, his two compatriots could easily tell, as they both exchange a look between one another, Fuyumi reaching over to softly nudge Benedict giving him a knowing look. The little masked doctor would grow quiet for a moment, introspectively choosing his next words carefully before he spoke in a somewhat uneasy tone.


    ¡°You had another one of those dreams again, didn¡¯t you?¡±


    Nikolai would glance away, almost ashamed as Benedict spoke, he¡¯d steeple his fingers nervously, fiddling with his thumb as he merely nods, wordlessly. His eyes unfocused as he wracks his mind trying to recall the faded images from the dream before. Benedict would clear his throat, finalizing his tending to Fuyumi, whom¡¯s stitches and bruises had been wrapped and bound with fresh bandages, before moving beside Nikolai, an awkward gloved hand being placed on his shoulder.


    ¡°Ah, look Nikolai, I have been trying everything to help you, but¡­¡± He¡¯d pause as he tilts his masked head, gears turning in his mind as he tries to find the right words ¡°... Maladies of the mind, are sometimes the hardest to treat, as they linger and no amount of medicinal salves and unguents can cure that within the head. I don¡¯t want you to think that we dislike your plan but, you know as well as I do that we can¡¯t just leave Ferina. Heavens we aren¡¯t even old enough to to acquire trades yet truthfully¡­ and in all honesty, given both your physical condition, along with Fuyumi¡¯s unclear maladies and I¡­ well makes it hard to even ponder what we could do out on the sea.¡±


    Benedict would give a gentle squeeze to Nikolai¡¯s arm, trying to reassure him that they were at his back, ¡°You know that we are at your back, and truthfully if I am to admit in his confession, sometimes I too have dreams of leaving this port. Papa¡¯s boots and legacy are a tall order to fill, and truthfully I fear that I am not one who can do such¡­¡± He shakes his head, a sniffle from his right, catching his attention, as he spies Fuyumi, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand, Benedict pauses and winces ¡°O-Oh, n-no, don¡¯t be upset¡­ Oh heavens this line of topic is quite heavy for what was to be a fun evening¡­.¡±


    Fuyumi herself would be trying to fight back a few errant sniffles, nodding to Nikolai, as she adjusts her seat, the box beneath her groaning in it''s strain ¡°Y-Yeah don¡¯t be sad Nikolai, I mean¡­ At least you got ya matron to look after ya. Sa¡¯Vass does really seem nice, I wish I could be in the home with ya, maybe folks wouldn''t be so mean to ya. I just wish the members of the priory would let me go into the city every now and then, so I wouldn¡¯t have to sneak out to see my friends.¡±


    Benedict would make his way over, sliding a box to stand atop so that he could lightly pat the top of Fuyumi¡¯s head, trying to assuage her own guilt. Nikolai would pause, glancing up with a worriedly look as he realized he¡¯d soured the mood, he clears his throat and shifts to the edge of the crate he was atop, waving his hands idly with an awkward laugh.


    ¡°N-Naw don¡¯t get so bent outta shape Fuyumi! It''s not your fault, I am just down in the dumps today and unfortunately it just sorta got to me. Benie is probably right after all, it wouldn¡¯t be too wise fer us to go galavanting into the sea hopin¡¯ fer the best¡­¡± He pauses, raising a steel finger as he nods sagely ¡°... Mhmm Captain Bulgraff always said, ¡®Always have two sets of plans, two for when the seas are rough, and two when the seas are calm!¡±


    Inwardly Nikolai would take stock of the situation, truthfully he wished to give flight to this port, and escape the tedium and hostile treatment he¡¯d come to expect from the rest of the ports inhabitants, perhaps there was some wisdom in shouldering the difficult task of melding into a society openly hostile to him. But on the other hand, as he cast his gaze to Benedict and Fuyumi the former worked to try and soothe her upset state, he inwardly knew that perhaps at some level there was no place among the common folk for them, the outcast and pariah. He looks over at his friends and longs to give them lives long denied to them. As he knew full well that Benedict¡¯s father was was eternally ensnared in the political inner workings of the upper quarter and the wealthy nobles there, unaware of his sickly son¡¯s true desires, despite the fact that Benie had always spoke of helping those less fortunate as opposed to treating nobles and the members of the upper quarter.


    As for Fuyumi, Nikolai surmised that she was the most unfortunate one within the port, and truly felt pangs of sympathy for the lass, as she had arrived but a few years back by accident as a stowaway aboard one of the Free-Company vessels that sailed to the enigmatic western isles within the Jade Sea, due to some unspoken reason she was not allowed to be placed in the same foundling home as Nikolai but instead was sequestered away within the upper wards clandestine priory of the Concordant Church. His desire to help his friends roiled like a boundless well, but the frustration of how best to go about such gnaws upon him. To break up the melechnoly that settled over them, he¡¯d rise up and walk to their side, and place a hand on either of their shoulders, a smile on his face as he tried to pep them up.


    ¡°Bah! Let¡¯s not get bogged down in this, I still say we should take advantage of the fact that Wallace and his family are away on holiday regardless, that gives us the perfect chance to sneak into the reflection gardens tonight and collect some of the dawn-thistle that Benie¡¯s papa wants. After that we can take the gold and buy some nice new decorations fer our ship here or even some fancy clothes from the merchants that arrived today! How does that sound?¡±


    The duo of Fuyumi and Benedict would exchange a look, the air around them lightening as Fuyumi flashes a pointy smile and ensnares both Benedict and Nikolai beneath and arm and squeezes them together in a crushing hug, the two of them groaning as they feel themselves headlocked by her crushing grip. Fuyumi beams cheerfully,


    ¡°Yeah! Now that''s a plan! We can use the coin to buy nice new attire! ¡®At means we can sneak into the fancy dinner parties that Wallace and his family have in them upper quarter festivals! I say lets do it!¡±


    Benedict, rapidly taps and tugs at the arm that was wrapped around his neck, gasping for a few moments as he tries to speak up,


    ¡°Y-Yeah I think it would b-b-be good for a change to i-improve our secret base h-here¡­ F-Fuyumi your choking me¡­.¡±


    Nikolai would manage to get himself free, using his artificial arm as a lever to leverage himself free from his excited friends crushing grip, he¡¯d take a few steps back and clear his throat, a clap of his hands having decided on the course.


    ¡°Aight then it is settled! Tonight we leave our secret base early, we head for the reflection gardens and try and find some of the dawn-thistle. If we snag some, we can have Benie take it to his papa and sell it to him. We then take that gold and use it to buy fancy frocks and hats and sneak into those dinner parties were we can then eat all the sweet cakes and rolls we want¡­¡± He rubs his hands together ¡°Good plan! Now then¡­ where were we?¡±


    He¡¯d shift, take a step back as he¡¯d leap back atop the box upon which he¡¯d been seated, dramatically snatching up the smoothed stool leg ¡°blade¡± he had wielded prior, with a melodramatic laugh he would scoff.


    ¡°Now then, who dares face off against the feared Dread Captain Yuugo! Master of the Forbidden Seas! Word has caught my ear that some foolish Wondrous Wizard and his shrine maiden compatriot have been sent to stop my reign of terror... ¡° He puffs out his chest giving a haughty faux laugh as he mimes throwing back a cape from his side ¡°... Fools! Your far too late for such!¡±


    Benedict and Fuyumi would excitedly exchange looks with one another, Fuyumi¡¯s face alight, as she moves to rise up, taking a stance up as she removes a pair of crudely drawn and designed strips of parchment, with crude sealing sigils upon them in her hand,


    ¡°Hah! Yer outta luck there Dread Captain! The Wonderous Wizard ¡®ere and his faithful companion, the Shrine Maiden of the Concordant, are ¡®ere to make sure your reign of terror is at an end! So better say your prayers to the divines as we are gonna make ya meet yer maker!¡±


    Benedict would also assume his combat stance, striking a dramatic pose as he flourishes his cloak, hand upon his mask as he speaks up in a firm tone, slipping back into character flawlessly.


    ¡°That is correct Dread Pirate, as my dear friend as stated, your reign of terror is at an end, lay down your arms and surrender, tis your only course to save yourself from my most potent and dangerous spells!¡±


    Benedict would follow such up, with miming the sound of thunder crackling as he awaits his foes response. Nikolai would watch them both, feeling a bit better, yet ever still did the ebbing aura of their recent conversation hang about him, the haunting lingering images of the pastel canvas still muddy and murky within the mind. He¡¯d shove such down as he gives another boisterous laugh, brandishing his ¡°blade¡± once more as he leaps towards them, giving voice to their challenge.


    ¡°Hah! Then ye shall find nothing more than your doom here heroes! Come have at thee!¡±

 Chapter 5: The Luminary from The Stars

    The quiet eve played forth, with the trio clambering up and down the width and breadth of the broken frigate, as the sky resolved and turned above them. Their mirthful and jovial voices calling out faux challenges to one another as the day fell away. Far late into the eve, the sun had dipped low on the western horizon, the celestial sky alight with dancing and flickering lights overhead of countless stars, resplendent in their glory as they cast tiny pinpricks of light across the inky black canvas of the midnight sky. So too as did the sun revolve about to slumber, did the Twins arise in their place and take their dominion over the sky above.


    Bright and radiant did the first of the twins shine within the sky, a bright and flawless pale white stone that dominated the horizon, the moon of Aria would glimmer and shine within the sky, it''s radiance rivaled only by that of the sun of which it now took it''s stewardship from over the celestial sea above. The shimmering light from Aria cast itself across the lands below, giving the countless tired merchants and tavern dwellers their chance to manage their route through the tiered city of Ferina with the relief in having sight given unto them by the generosity of their lunar body on high.


    However, Aria did not dance alone upon the midnight sky, dwelling within her deep shadow resided her kin, the pockmarked and jagged obsidian face of Pharos would move in time with it''s kin, not unlike that of a shadow. The looming shade would move in lockstep with it''s kin, the facade of Pheros eternally drowned by the luminous radiance of it''s twin. However, strangely enough, the moon itself appeared somewhat larger, as if the more shy and cloistered of the pair was feeling bold enough to bestride the stage, it''s form faintly shimmering with a dull obsidian radiance, as it turned in time and moved along it''s prepared course alongside Aria.


    Far below the celestial sea, the trio would have waited till the dark of night had fallen, their venture set and clear as they in tow make their trip from the depths of the broken frigate laid up in the old breakers yard. Their paths would take them winding through the dense vegetation of the coastal forest, all whilst keeping out of sight of the towering outer walls of Ferina as they snaked their way towards the southern part of the isle.


    The reflection gardens of Ferina were an old and hallowed place for the people of the city, crafted in the ancient past of the city''s history, they were formed to commemorate some grand event of ages past. The plaques and vine covered statues, worn by time and eaten by rain, would in hushed voice speak of some grand catastrophe that had swept the lands long before any of them was born. Grand stone murals of great waves, sweeping forth from the sea, to faded figures of bygone eras battling against the waves to weather the unending storm. All of these old memories would sadly bear little weight to the young trio as they sneak their way into the sectioned off area of the isle, having long ago found a rusted breach in the wrought iron fence that stood along the gardens perimeter. The trio would manage their way into the fenced off region, sneaking among the dense undergrowth and beneath towering canopies of vast and mighty trees that seemed to reach towards the heaven and bloat out the sun of Aria above.


    The trio would creep forth, till they arrived before the central portion of the gardens, a vast lake rippling with soft waves that gently reflect the light of the moons above. The lake''s edge came to rest alongside a considerable plaza of stone, several crumbling and faded stonework pieces of art, keeping a cracked and time worn vigil over the area in their silent resolve. Towering above the statues resided a sizeable pilith of cracked marble, green vines clinging to the base, upon its top, rested a vast bronze work structure, skeletal wires of brass and faded gold would loom over the statues, vast faded mirrors of pearl resting on vast tracks, the object itself resembling a complex and aging orrery. Spheres of silver white, and midnight blade would remain inert above the silent plaza and lake as faded arcane augites of countless hues would remain dull and colorless upon the surface of these ancient arcane device, the strings of silver/gold that clung to them gently swaying in the soft breeze from the north-east as they night gently moved on.


    A steel hand would part the branches of the thick bush that lay between them and the plaza, as Nikolai cast his gaze out into the area, taking note of the quiet state of the area, before turning back to his companions, voice low and hushed.


    "Alright, it looks clear, I ain''t seeing the guards on patrol tonight, we might have lucked out and they got caught up trying to handle all the new folks that arrived in port..." He''d pause and move to unwrap a sackcloth bag that Benedict had given him, he motions to the masked boy whom was busy working to haul out an oversized tome, "...Bennie you sure you know what other things ya papa wants? I mean if we can clear out the area of say the sallow-cap mushrooms as well we could sell those to the small eatery down by the dockside."


    Benedict would glance up at Nikolai, nodding in turn as he moves to pat the cover of the heavy tome, his voice low and eternally muffled "Mhmm, that would be a fortuitous boon to say the least, but we need to be careful, as if we pick dusk-cap mushrooms, we might get in trouble for making people sick...." He''d cast his own masked gaze towards Fuyumi quietly, only to find her watching the lake with a somewhat preoccupied look upon her face, he''d lean over and nudge her slightly, "Uhh Fuyumi, did you get that? We aren''t trying to harvest any of the dusk-caps, as they won''t do us any good..." He''d pause and tilt his head "...You alright? You look like you''ve seen a ghost."


    Fuyumi would pause and keep her gaze lingering on the far side of lake among a thick patch of trees and brush, her narrowed eyes faintly radiating a dull amber hue, that reflecting the light of Aria on-high. She''d hold that look for a few moments longer, before she turns to look at Benedict and Nikolai, her face a touch paler than it had been when they left, but could not be attributed to the pale light that shone down from above?


    "H-Huh? Oh, right! No dusk-caps, sorry Bennie, I thought I saw somethin'' moving out there... It was sorta strange as I ain''t really seen any torch light. Musta just been my nerves gettin to me..."


    Nikolai would be given pause, parting the branches and leaves once more, he''d gaze out into the plaza, keen eyes watching the various shadows which whilst sparse and few, loomed deep and dark. The dense undergrowth would cast yawning shadows that stretched out and loomed deep, truly anything could have hide themselves away within these long ebony shrouds. But as Nikolai strained his hearing, he caught no tell-tale signs nor sounds of movement among the brush, just the dull and soft songs of tropical insects crooning their songs upon the warm quiet eve. His eyes giving one last look over the far side of the lake to find nothing of note, before turning back satisfied with his observations.


    "Don''t worry ''bout it Fuyumi, probably was just the light playin'' tricks on ya, lucky for us Aria is shining brightly tonight, gives us a chance to see what we are doing..." He nods quietly, reaching into his bag to pull out a well-worn straight knife, he''d indicate out to a few clumps of faintly glowing jade light that shimmered upon the bank, the bio-luminescent dawn-thistle radiant it''s soft colors in the moonlight. "...Let''s grab as many as we can and get outta ''ere before the Watch Captain makes his rounds in this area, let''s get a move on!"


    The trio would nod their affirmation and then scatter, Benedict racing off into the underbrush, with a heavy tome and sack in one hand, and the keen and ornate blade in his other as he moves off to harvest the more difficult to identify flora that grew in the region, his cloaked form vanishing into the underbrush with the dull clatter and clank of his tomes and medicinal gear softly betraying his position the dull grey of his corvidae mask betraying him slightly, until he reaches further into the depths of the garden, vanishing from sight.


    Fuyumi would move off towards a large clutch of broken stone statues at the edge of the plaza, several thick clutches of the dawn-thistle having grown up between the stone tiles cracks. She''d idly stoop down and sweep those keen nails of hers across the stems of the shimmering plants, having no need for a blade herself. Though, as they continued her harvest, her gaze would continually be drawn back towards the distant shore, her brow furrowed as she focuses on something unseen. After a few moments, she would pick up her satchel, and move back slowly, her movements retracing Benedict''s path into the underbrush as she went to find her masked compatriot.


    Nikolai however, would fail to notice his companions depart, remaining kneeled down alongside the lakes edge, blade in hand as he carefully cut away the dawn-thistle''s stem, moving to collect the flowers in dense bundles before placing them in the sackcloth bag. Tirelessly he would work, moving to wipe the sweat from his brow as he slides forth, walking on his knees through the dense mud of the riverbank, inwardly he frets, Sa''Vass is going to kill me for getting so dirty. He''d shake his head, focusing on the task at hand, blade dancing nimbly in the dark as he harvested the plants before him.


    However, he''d halt his movements as he realizes that the world about him had fallen dreadfully silent. He''d lift his head and glance around, only to find that he was the only one out in the open, his friends having vanished it seemed, he''s exhale and glance back towards the titanic orrery, the wind had stilled leaving the large structure still and unmoving in the night. He''d crook his brow as he glanced about, noticing for the first time that even the insects had grown quiet for some estranged reason. A faint feeling of worry knotted his stomach, as he would get to his feet, glancing around as a light from the moon overhead dimmed ever so slightly, a brace of clouds ebbing from the east slowly moving to marr and dull the light the moon radiated so vitally but moments earlier.


    He''d take a few sucking steps in the mud towards the plaza, tightening his grip on the small knife and sackcloth bag in his hand, as he called out in a low tone.


    "Oi! Fuyumi! Benedict, where did ya go? This ain''t a funny game guys..." He waits silently, glancing about as he realizes just how alone he was out here on the cold lakeside, he takes another sucking step "...Guys? Can we stop, let''s just get what we have and go-"


    His words would be cut off, his steel limb would faintly twitch, his mind feeling a dull warmth from the limb that he''d not experienced before. The once dull arcane augites that shimmered and powered the magitech of the limb would flare slightly, radiating their hues more brightly as they flickered, almost as if pulsing before falling still and silent. Nikolai would wince as his artificial arm would fall limb, his hand still clutching the knife with a staunch and ungiving grip. He''d shudder, and take a few heavy steps, his mind trying to will the arcane automata back to the waking world, only to have it lay there, unresponsive.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    He''d wince, at the sudden surprise of the decoupling, staggering about as his mind his inundated with the arcane backwash, he''d glance around as he worked to focus his vision. However as he''d cast his gaze back towards the lakes edge, he''d notice something far and away from the usual ho hum he so readily craved now.


    The surface of the lake shimmered and grew placid, the faint undulations of the water ceasing entirely as the waters grew still as glass. Upon the surface of the lake, the reflection of Aria and her shaded twin Pheros would reflect with startling clarity, the luminosity of Aria growing somewhat more intense, though such was impossible as Nikolai observed that the sky overhead was nearly entirely overcast, the dull light of Aria in the sky muted and dulled by clouds. The shadows around Nikolai would deepen, looming wide and long as the shimmering reflection of the moon on the lake surface grew in intensity. The boy would raise his free hand to shield his eyes, faintly making out within the blazing heart of the moon, an outline emerging and steadily increasing in size.


    The lad was sent scrambling back, as he fought to get himself free of the muddy mire of the lake''s bank, moving up through the sucking mud as he heaved with all his might, managing to get a boot crashing down upon solid land. With a strained growl, he''d haul himself up and lunge forth, throwing himself into the underbrush as he scrambles about upon his stomach, peering out through a break in the dense holly bush he found himself hidden within. The mirror perfect surface of the lake would radiate the form of Aria and this figure that seemed to ebb solely from the heart of the moons form. Slowly the shape of what appeared to be a small vessel, lithe in design and flowing with clean and stark lines not unlike that of Highborn elfin design. A sleek silver sail would flutter on some unseen wind as the silhouette of this vessel would rise from the center of the lake, as if emerging from the reflective face of a mirror.


    The elegant ship akin to a small and sleek dhow, would drift free from below the water surface. It''s forming rising up from the water, and parting with unnatural grace with neer a drop of water upon it''s silver-white form from the unbroken lake surface upon it as it''s sail billows upon an unseen nor felt wind. The small dhow would emerge and drift above the world below it, bobbing on some unseen current of the arcane nearly ten feet from the ground below it. Nikolai would peer intently at the ship, a pair of lithe sweeping wings would flow below the vessel, indicating clearly it was not designed for sailing upon the sea like any traditional vessel of the day.


    The silent vessel would radiate a faint soft silver glow, almost as if it eternally radiated the ambient light from the moon above. This small shimmering vessel would glide smoothly from the surface of the lake and ebb slowly upon the shore, coming to rest at the edge of the plaza, bobbing slowly in place as it rocks gingerly on waves and ebbing tides of the aether.


    Nikolai would stare in dumbstruck awe at the vessel as it arrived upon the material world, having drifted from the lake! His brow narrowed sharply as he tried to wrack his brain to see if what he was seeing was entirely real or the prank of an errant mage gone wrong. However the longer he watched, the more he realized this floating vessel was indeed right there in the plaza where he and his friends had been occupying but moments before.


    The luminous ark would drift silently, as it''s sails would reef themselves without interaction from anyone aboard. As the vessel bobbed, a solitary figure would move within the confines of the craft, shifting about as they rummage about on the ship. After a few long moments a slight figure would slide themselves upon the edge of the vessel, dropping down as hushed as a whisper, long shimmering silver strain loops of cloth fluttering as they land upon the plaza, the details of their form muddled by a shimmering silver light that seems to spring from the center of their being.


    Nikolai would peer out at the figure, pushing himself up slowly as he watches their movements, trying to make sense of what he was seeing and what exactly was unfolding before him. That was until he felt the frigid cold akin to ice water dousing his mind. The once quiet limb would violently seize and shudder as it''s arcane matrices would stir back to life. The click of the myriad of gears and the faint thrum of the crystals within would startle Nikolai, causing him to give a pained gasp, as he reached over to slap his hand down upon the seizing limb, as it worked to syncopate with his mind once more. The dull clatter of his struggle with his own reawakening limb would stifled, but none too soon, the shimmering figure pausing as it moved towards the vast orrery, it''s attention refocused as it watched the hedge-line that Nikolai was concealed within. Vaguely, a dull humanoid shape would flash within this wreathing corona of dull silver light, their form indistinct but not too far from that of Nikolai''s own height.


    After a few long moments the shimmering form would move over, it''s footsteps long and purposefully as it makes it''s way over to the cracked marble base of the vast construct of gold, silver and bronze. This light garbed figure would gesture wordlessly to the vast construct, which had long sat inert and slumbering, though it seemed for no longer would it sleep. The vast orbs and mirrors would wind themselves, the heavy groan of unmoved and time-locked arcane matrices and gears stirring as they start to wind and move at the silent bidding of this newly arrived figure.


    The veiled lad stares in dumbstruck awe, as what he''d once assumed as an inert monument, stir to life, the vast mirrors and orbs of rare arcane augites would flare to life, their colors dancing in splashing hues as they began to move and wheel about in prearranged arcs and paths, leaving bright and shimmering contrails to mark their path. The entire mechanism would wheel about, churning in vast flurries of movement, that despite their size and ill maintained nature, would move with unerring silence, the only note of their awakening, being that of the lights they cast over the small plaza and radiated out into the dense overgrown garden beyond. The vast and dulled mirrors would lower themselves on articulated spindly bronze limbs down before the shimmering form, whom merely indicates to them in gesture, their weathered faces, flashing bursts of color and slowly resolving into faded images, blurring past at breakneck speeds.


    The mirrors angled themselves towards the figure, half circling around them, as they displayed vast vistas far and distant, from smoke choked and wreathed lands, covered in rusting steel to vast incomprehensible views of the celestial seas above, churning and roiling as vast swatches of color would expand and roil in the abyss of the stars above. This figure would merely stand unmoved as it brushes it''s hand aside, the mirrors altering their focus as it seemed the mirrors would reflect the very spot they were standing upon, as if seen from above the plaza itself, this mechanism some sort of divining tool or instrument long forgotten.


    Another gesture from the figure would pull the images away, the view racing skyward, and rocketing far above Ferina, the might port a tiny mote of green upon an ocean canvas of blue. The image racing southward, past several dozens vessels unaware of this scrying as it races headlong towards the edge of the southern seas. The view resolving itself above a small barren isle, bereft of active habitation, with broken and ruined structures clustering it''s surface. The scene would alter it''s perspective, the isle sat among a small island chain, solely upon the edge of a vast and unimaginably large storm wall.


    Upon the distant horizon of his unnamed isle, would the southernmost reach of it''s horizon be blocked by an unceasing storm wall, churning and roiling as it stirs the seas, arcs of lightning dancing and crashing into the seas, as a churning fog ebbs as surface level. This swirling supercell, seems to reach into the distance along the southern horizon, racing far into the skies above and seeming like an impossible bulwark of heaving clouds and fog.


    Nikolai''s eyes would widen, for he''d heard of this place, yet never had his eyes dreamed of beholding it. He''d risk rising up slightly, poking his head slowly above the edge of the bush as he watches the figure, silently observe and review the vision laid before them. An unbidden shiver would dance up Nikolai''s back, as the dancing fog that clung to the seas surface in the images bore a sickly silver-white sheen, the dancing images within his head of his dreams race to the forefront of his mind. He swallowed dryly, moving to adjust his position so as to allow him a closer view of the mirrors and their projected arcane images upon their burnished surfaces. The Fog-Tides, inwardly he shivers at the mention of such fabled and feared regions of the sea, he''d recall back upon conversations with Captain Bulgraff whom would grow stoic and pale faced when such a region was mentioned, this abhorred region of sea well known for taking ships into it''s wispy embrace, only for them to neer be seen again.


    The curious lad had to know more, those roiling clouds of Fog, they seemed unnaturally familiar in their nature and make, the long and dreary time spent fruitlessly seeking out information would drive the boy into action. He''d move and quietly rise up from the bush in which he had shelter. He''d slowly keep his grip upon the lightly shaking artificial limb which seemed to go wild at this untamed and ancient magic that was weaved before them, as he maneuvers himself silently towards the shelter of one of the elegant fins of the silver ship. He''d keep himself low as he takes long strides to clear the plaza, racing towards the silver ship that bobbed and ebbed at it''s unseen anchorage. He''d cast a worried glance towards the figure, whom seemed far too preoccupied with the vast images that now resolved and rotated back to their current location, westward from St. Ferina towards a chain of isles south of the ancient nautical empire of Le''Garde.


    Nikolai would duck down beside the sweeping fine of the vessel, careful not to touch the silver-white timbers that composed it''s construction, as he feared what might result if he did. He''d slide himself forward, moving to the edge of this new hiding place as he watched the figure, and their work, trying to mull over a way to approach this figure without startling them. Truthfully, it was him that he had to convince to approach this entity, his knees buckled and quaked at the sight of it''s shimmering form, it was aethereal, so unnatural and out of place within the natural world it made him sick to his stomach. His hands shook in dull fear, trembling before this unnatural entity, for all he knew it could wheel about in place and extinguish him from the material plane with but a thought. His gnawing pit of fear at this core, knew that if this entity could reawaken ancient arcane devices that even the most talented scholars of Ferina could not rouse, than would it even be wise to disturb their work?


    As he thought over and actively debated if he should or shouldn''t approach the entity, the vessel next to him, would dip suddenly as if the unseen current of the arcane winds it rode upon, would shutter. The vessel would dip low enough for Nikolai''s shoulder to contact with the silver surface of the crafts hull, he''d feel a gentle warmth press down upon his arm as he comes into contact with the dhow. He''d feel a sudden cold chill douse his mind, unerringly familiar to that of his own arm. The vessel seemed to terrifyingly enough of it''s own accord, reach forth and caress the mind of Nikolai. However, unlike his faux arcane driven limb, he''d feel something other-wordly brush against the confines of his mind, an ethereal caress with something ancient and venerable but entirely of it''s own being. This shock would cause Nikolai to cry out in fear, as he wheels back and away from the vessels hull, falling down with a clatter upon the plaza''s stones with a din that for the briefest moment would drown the soft hum of the orrery in full motion.


    Nikolai would impact upon the ground, with a wince of pain, as he grips his side, having landed on one of the tomes that Benedict had given him. He''d shudder, feeling the cold arcane brush fade from his mind, a dull warmth replacing such as he stares fearfully at the drifting ship. Such was until he felt a dull warmth spread across his right side, a faint silver light now illuminating him, as he''d shudder, refusing to look towards its source, as he covers his face, the intensity of it''s glow focused squarely upon him and him alone. The shimmering figure would draw closer to Nikolai as he lays upon the earth, trying to scramble back, only to find his body refuses his command.


    This shimmering form would stoop down before Nikolai, the bright silver light about them, peeling back and resolving into a lithe and humanoid form still indistinct and unfocused, reach out towards him. A dulcet female tone ebbing with the figure was it seemingly attempts to offer her hand out to him,


    "Peace be upon you! Fear not child of Man, for it is most fortuitous that I have found one of your kind on this most dreadful of nights..."