《Songs of Ash and Shadow》


 Chapter one - The Call to Adventure

    ¡°...For when the Ashen Widow calls, you better listen, for her warnings, albeit cryptic, are genuine!¡± Kael ended his tale, fingers lingering on the strings of his lute as a hush fell over the tavern, broken only by the groan of the chair he stood upon. A small smile tugged at his lips,  though his heart clenched with the weight of the truth- his burden.


    As the last words left his lips, the lanterns flickered, their flames shivering as if in the grip of an unseen breeze. For a heartbeat, the ever-present scent of salt and ash hanging in the air seemed to disappear.


    The tavern stayed quiet, weathered sailors looking up from their card games to glare at the young bard. ¡°Shut up, Kael!¡± one of them yelled, tossing his mug across the room. ¡°No one wants to hear your make-believe stories.¡±


    Kael caught the mug, ignoring the mist of ale that sprayed out as he jumped down from the table and slid his lute onto his back. Grabbing the plates and utensils from the table, he seamlessly went back to work. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± he muttered to himself, glancing at a seemingly empty corner.


    A faint form revealed itself to only Kael, like smoke caught in moonlight, her figure dissolved into air. The dress of tattered gray clung to her, its fabric fluttering as though stirred by a breeze that touched no one else. Her face was pale and serene, yet her hollow eyes, black as the abyss, seemed to pierce Kael¡¯s very soul.


    As Kael continued his round, collecting dishes to clean, a few patrons leaving coins on their plates as payment for the tale, Marenna began to fade.


    The moment Kael arrived at the bar, Alice grabbed him by the arm and pulled him close, wiping his cheek with the rag she used for the counter and mugs. ¡°I thought it was a good tale, honey.¡±


    ¡°Mom!¡± he squirmed in her grasp, but didn¡¯t really struggle, letting her clean his cheek with the damp rag. ¡°You don''t have to clean me, I''m already seventeen!¡±


    ¡°And yet you''re still living with your mother,¡± she teased him, letting go of his arm. Grabbing the dirty dishes, she nodded towards the corner table with a shadowy figure, ¡°Someone''s been asking for you.¡±


    ¡°For me? What do they want?¡± he asked, grabbing a mug from under the counter and filling it with ale from the tap.


    The figure didn''t have a drink sitting on the table, so Kael figured he''d put in the effort to make a good first impression if they really wanted something from him. It cost nothing to be forthcoming!


    Alice put the dishes in the sink and started cleaning. ¡°Your tales, of course. He said that he had some questions about one of them that got more popular,¡± she explained, humming the tune of his most recent song to herself.


    ¡°Oh, it''s got to be an older one¡­¡± he mused aloud, setting aside the lute before moving towards the corner table.


    Kael''s usually friendly smile strained as he approached them, the sound of death filling his ears. This person sounded like imminent death, a breath away from being dead themselves- the reaper''s embrace. He was sick, or very hurt- but his shaggy, dirty appearance made Kael lean towards sickness.


    He slid into the booth opposite of the patron, setting the frothy mug down in front of them. ¡°Hello. You asked for me?¡±


    ¡°Aye,¡± the patron replied, but offered no further explanation.


    Kael stared at the man for a moment, mustering the almost comically shady figure sitting across from him. ¡°Well, here I am! How can I help you?¡±


    ¡°Captain invites you to the ship,¡± he said, taking a sip from the ale before setting it back down with a grimace. ¡°Show up at dusk with a new tale to tell at the docks. Cap''s already bored of your popular ones.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I''m not interested in joining the marines-¡± Kael started, only to get interrupted by the patron.


    ¡°Do I look like a fucking marine to you?¡± he growled, pushing the mug away as he stood up. ¡°Show up or you''ll regret it. Cap¡¯ isn''t patient.¡±


    Kael stood up as well, looking up at the burly man with the nicest smile he could muster on his face. ¡°I''ll try to be there, but I might be a bit late. I need to help my mother with closing today.¡±


    ¡°Here''s a little piece of advice, kid: Show up- on time- or your mother will need to get used to closing alone,¡± the patron replied, jabbing his finger into Kael''s chest. After a second, he added, ¡°And eat something proper, goddess''s tits! You''re not gonna last a week on the sea like this.¡±


    Before Kael could reply, the patron hobbled away, cursing under his breath. His wooden peg leg tapping rhythmically on the floorboards.


    Kael grabbed the mug and walked back to the bar. After a second of consideration, he dumped the ale into the waste bucket.


    ¡°I''ll need to leave early today, mom,¡± he said, grabbing a bowl of stew from the counter for another table. ¡°Some captain wants a new tale from me. He doesn''t sound very nice.¡±


    ¡°Oh, dear, are you sure you want to go?¡± Alice asked, grabbing a loaf of bread from the oven. ¡°Do you have a tale ready?¡±


    ¡°No, but I''ll take a walk before and see if I can spin a tale- or I''ll just tell one of the old ones people already forgot,¡± he said, grabbing two slices of bread. The patron that ordered the stew always liked extra bread.


    After bringing out the stew, he returned to the bar with more dirty dishes.


    Alice took the dishes and set them aside, shooing him away with a slight smirk ¡°Go, go, I can take care of the inn for a day- goddess knows I was taking care of it alone while you were-¡±


    ¡°Yes, yes, I''ve heard that story hundreds of times!¡± he quickly interrupted her, his cheeks starting to redden. He quickly grabbed his lute and turned towards the door. ¡°Thank you, I''ll bring you some oranges.¡±


    ¡°Take care, dear,¡± Alice said, turning back to the dirty dishes.


    He swung his lute over his back and stepped outside, only to immediately have to dodge a cart tumbling over the broken cobblestone road.


    The Saltrows spread around him in a maze of wooden huts and shanties, cobbled streets and wooden bridges connecting the stacked homes with another and bathing most of the slums in shadows. Dozens of the sailors swarmed around, searching for taverns and brothels to spend their time on land at.


    No city guards were in sight.


    Looking up at the namesake of Blackspire harbour, the jagged tower of rocks looming over the entire town like a watchtower, he offered a silent prayer to the goddess before starting to walk towards it.


    It had been used as the execution ground for the mage guild for years, but they recently became fond of burning their victims alive instead, which left it to be overtaken by the gangs of Blackspire. Bodies had started to pile up around the base of it, leaving hundreds of ghosts to roam.


    He weaved through the crowds with practiced ease, dodging past pirates and thieves to climb up onto the roofs of the city. He had always enjoyed climbing across the Saltrows, looking over the bustling streets with a small smile.


    He had heard so many tales of old, as mundane as anything he could see now, but it always amused him how many parallels one could spot if they searched for it.


    Sitting down on the edge of the highest roof around, Kael dangled his legs above the streets. He needed a good story, a bold one that''d be good enough for whatever ominous captain demanded it.


    He would have ignored the request if the patron hadn''t threatened him, but he didn''t want to risk his mothers safety. They just wanted to hear a tale after all, he could do that.


    Alas, inspiration eluded him.


    He looked back up at the Blackspire.


    The Blackspire loomed like a jagged finger against the darkening sky, its shadow swallowing the slums in creeping twilight. From his perch, Kael watched as the day''s last light painted the towering rock with strokes of crimson and gold, transforming it into a menacing beacon of dread. Stories swirled in his mind, fragments of whispered myths and half-forgotten legends, but none seemed bold enough to appease a captain who commanded fear even from his own messenger.Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    Kael sighed, leaning back on his hands and staring at the stars that began to glimmer above. "Come on, Kael," he muttered to himself. "Think. What''s the kind of story that even a hardened sea captain wouldn''t forget?"


    His fingers absentmindedly plucked at the strings of his lute, a soft melody rising into the salty air. The tune carried faintly down to the bustling streets below, but Kael hardly noticed. His thoughts were fixated on the Blackspire and the unspoken horrors that surrounded it.


    Perhaps... a ghost story?


    It wasn¡¯t a far stretch. The Blackspire was already infamous for its hauntings, and Kael could weave truth and fiction into something compelling. But would it be enough? His gaze drifted to the docks, where lanterns swayed in the growing breeze, their reflections dancing like restless spirits on the water.


    The wind shifted suddenly, cold and sharp, carrying with it a faint whisper. Kael froze, his fingers halting mid-chord. It was a voice, faint and distant, but unmistakable.


    "Beware the Widow¡¯s grasp, child."


    Kael''s heart thudded in his chest. Slowly, he turned, scanning the rooftops behind him. Empty. Yet the voice lingered, a spectral echo in his mind. He felt a chill run down his spine as the scent of salt and ash enveloped him once more, stronger this time, as if the Ashen Widow herself stood behind him.


    "Great," he muttered, clutching his lute tightly. "Just what I needed. A sign from her."


    He rose to his feet, balancing precariously on the edge of the roof. His gut told him the story would come, but not from idle musings. If the Widow wanted to whisper warnings, perhaps she¡¯d do more if he dared to listen. Maybe she had another story for him.


    Kael took a deep breath, slinging his lute back over his shoulder, and began his descent from the rooftops. The jagged Blackspire seemed to call to him now, a silent challenge he couldn¡¯t ignore. If he was to craft a tale worth telling, he needed to face the truths hidden within the shadows of that cursed place.


    The streets thinned as he approached the base of the Blackspire, the scent of decay thickening with every step. By the time he reached the crumbling wooden fence that once cordoned off the execution grounds, Kael¡¯s pulse pounded in his ears.


    The ground here was soft, uneven, littered with forgotten bones and charred remnants of ancient fires. He hesitated, the air around him unnaturally still as he pulled out his lute.


    One step closer, he thought, and there''s no turning back.


    He took that step, starting to play a soft tune on his lute.


    The world shifted instantly. The oppressive silence was replaced by a cacophony of whispers and faint cries, the voices of the dead clawing at his mind. Shadows danced at the edges of his vision, shapeless and writhing, yet impossible to ignore. The scent of salt and ash grew overpowering as the sounds of the streets behind him disappeared completely.


    There she was, the Ashen Widow standing between piles of corpses. Her dead eyes wandering across the hills, rivers of charred blood pooling below her.


    She raised a hand, beckoning him closer.


    Kael¡¯s legs felt like lead, but he moved toward her, driven by an inexplicable pull. When he was just a few steps away, she spoke, her voice a haunting melody that filled the air.


    "You seek a story, bard," she said, her tone both gentle and stern. "But beware: the tales worth telling often demand a price.¡±


    ¡°I-¡±


    ¡°Oi!¡± Someone brashly interrupted him, causing the shadows in his vision to writhe. ¡°Whatcha doing, kid?¡±


    He whipped around, his hand drifting to the knife on his belt as he searched for the intruder.


    She was standing tall at the outermost hill of corpses, clad in a thick cloth shirt and black pants. Multiple belts graced her waist, holding pouches, belts, and even a revolver. Her short light brown spiky hair hidden partially beneath a tricorn.


    ¡°I''m just scavenging, but seems like someone''s already been here!¡± Kael replied, trying to ignore the way the shadows screamed at the interloper.


    She started walking towards him, pointing towards a corpse half buried in one of the hills. ¡°He''s got a pouch on him. Why don''t you search him? You''re just standing in the middle of the clearing, playing your lute.¡±


    ¡°Do not trust that woman,¡± the Ashen Widow whispered into Kael''s ear, causing a thin mist to settle over his ear as she faded away. ¡°The dead whisper her name in fear.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I didn''t see that,¡± Kael lied, but didn''t move. The shadows were gone now that the last of his music faded, but the uneasy feeling remained. ¡°What are you doing here?¡±


    She took another step forwards, now towering over him with a hand resting on the sword on her hip. ¡°Oh, I''ve been looking for someone,¡± she said, causing Kael to take a step back. Her grin only widened as she kept the distance between the two of them. ¡°A little bard that''s known here, tells ghost stories.¡±


    ¡°Doesn''t ring a bell,¡± he lied, a flush of red creeping onto his cheeks as he notices her broad shoulders and thick arms littered with scars.


    ¡°Doesn''t it?¡± she asked, her lips stretching into a predatory grin.


    Kael swallowed hard, his fingers tightening around the hilt of his knife. Something about her presence was overwhelming- not just her physicality but the confidence she exuded, like she already knew he was cornered. The kind of person who enjoyed watching their prey squirm before making the kill.


    ¡°Look,¡± he began, trying to sound casual despite the tremor in his voice, ¡°if you¡¯re looking for a bard, there are plenty around the Saltrows. You¡¯re wasting your time with me.¡±


    Her laugh was sharp, like the crack of a whip. ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sure I¡¯ve got the right one. You fit the description: scrawny kid, big mouth, always carrying that lute around like it¡¯s your firstborn. You¡¯ve been busy spinning tales about ghosts and widows, haven¡¯t you?¡±


    Kael opened his mouth to deny it, but her gaze pinned him in place. He could feel the weight of her scrutiny, sharp as a blade but as dangerous as the revolver on her hip.


    ¡°Name¡¯s Captain Veyla,¡± she continued, roughly grabbing him by the jaw and turning his face to look at him properly, ¡°my second mate talked with you earlier, but it''s pretty obvious you''re the one I need.¡±


    ¡°N-need?¡± he asked, his cheeks now coloured fully by his blush.


    Her grin widened, but her grip on his jaw didn''t falter. ¡°You''re cute, but that''s not what I meant,¡± she explained, ¡°you get your ghost stories by talking with them, don''t you?¡±


    ¡°Why would you think that?¡± he asked as his feet left the ground, her breath not even straining as she lifted him.


    ¡°Cut the crap, your stories are too personal and detailed,¡± she replied, lifting him so they were at the same eye level. ¡°I had my suspicions, but then you told a story only I was supposed to know. I guess ¡®dead men tell no tales¡¯ is a lie when you''re around.¡±


    ¡°You have no proof,¡± he said, struggling to find the right words. He was getting backed into a corner, his only possible escape being the unprovable nature of her claim.


    She sighed, but set him back down. ¡°I''m not gonna deliver you to the mages. Relax,¡± she ordered, ¡°I need someone who can talk to the dead for a big job. You''ll get paid of course.¡±


    ¡°How much?¡±


    Captain Veyla smirked, crossing her arms as she leaned down to meet Kael''s gaze again. "Enough to make you forget this rickety tavern and your mommy''s chores forever," she said, her tone dripping with confidence. "Gold, jewels, favors- you name it, and if the job succeeds, it¡¯s yours. If you survive, of course."


    He froze up for a moment. If he got paid enough, maybe he could buy the tavern and help Alice hire others- maybe actually escape the Saltrows.


    Kael straightened his tunic, brushing off imaginary dust in an attempt to compose himself. "That¡¯s vague. What¡¯s the job? And what do you mean, ''if I survive''?"


    Her expression darkened, the playful edge to her grin fading. "Let¡¯s just say there¡¯s a certain treasure buried with a very talkative corpse. Problem is, that treasure¡¯s cursed, and the dead don¡¯t part with their secrets easily." She tilted her head, her sharp gaze narrowing. "You''re the key, birdie. You get the story, we get the treasure, and you walk away richer than you¡¯ve ever dreamed."


    Kael hesitated, the weight of her words pressing down on him. His instincts screamed at him to walk away, but he couldn¡¯t ignore the spark of curiosity- and the unspoken as well as spoken threat in her voice. He glanced over his shoulder at the Blackspire, its shadow looming as though it were listening to their every word.


    "And if I refuse?" he asked, his voice quieter now.


    Captain Veyla¡¯s grin returned, sharper and colder this time. She leaned in close, her voice dropping to a low, dangerous whisper. "Refusal isn¡¯t on the table, birdie. Not after my crew and I have already wasted time finding you. The Widow herself couldn''t save you if you backed out now."


    Kael¡¯s pulse quickened. The Widow¡¯s whispered warning echoed faintly in his mind, but he couldn¡¯t deny the pull of the opportunity- or the fear of what would happen if he refused. He sighed, gripping the strap of his lute tightly. "Fine. I¡¯ll do it. But I want half upfront."


    Veyla barked out a laugh, the sound carrying over the desolate execution grounds. "You¡¯ve got guts, I¡¯ll give you that. But no deal, birdie. Payment comes after the job¡¯s done. That¡¯s the way of the sea."


    Kael scowled but nodded reluctantly. "When do we leave?"


    Veyla clapped a heavy hand on his shoulder, nearly making him stumble. "Dawn tomorrow. Be at the docks, or I¡¯ll personally drag your skinny ass aboard." She straightened, her grin fading into a more serious expression. "And one more thing: tell no one about this. Not your mother, not your ghosts, no one. Understood?"


    "Understood," Kael muttered, swallowing hard.


    With that, Captain Veyla turned and strode away, her boots crunching over the charred remnants of the Blackspire¡¯s cursed grounds. Kael watched her go, his mind racing. Whatever he had just agreed to, it was too late to back out now.


    ¡°Why did she have to be so hot?!¡± he groaned into his hands.

 Chapter Two - Belly of the Whale

    Kael walked across the raggedy docks, a bag strapped on his back and lute in his hands.


    The wooden boards creaked below his feet as he looked around at the docked ships, trying to figure out which one belonged to captain Veyla¡¯s crew. Most of them didn''t look like treasure hunter ships, and he stayed far away from the ships flying the pirate flags.


    He didn¡¯t want to draw the ire of any pirates.


    It was still a few minutes away from dawn, but he was getting anxious. He didn''t want to be late but she hadn''t told him which ship to go to.


    He approached one of the few dockworkers mulling around. ¡°Sorry, do you know where Captain Veyla¡¯s ship is docked?¡±


    ¡°Don''t know a Captain Veyla. Must have given you a fake name,¡± the dockworker replied, grabbing a crate. ¡°Sorry, kid.¡±


    ¡°Maybe someone else signed up? Did you see a tall, muscular, brown haired woman dressed like a captain- and uh- she carries a lot of weapons?¡± Kael asked, walking in step with the dockworker. ¡°Or a big, filthy man that smells of stale ale and gunpowder?¡±


    The dockworker stopped for a moment, thinking about something before setting the crate down. ¡°Big guy? Looks like the seediest motherfucker around and has the manners of a rabid dog?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, him,¡± Kael agreed, leaning against one of the posts. ¡°I''ve been invited on a job by his captain.¡±


    The dockworker squinted at Kael, suspicion clouding his features. ¡°That¡¯d be Hargan, if I¡¯m thinking of the right scum. But you don¡¯t want to get tangled with her crew. Dangerous lot. Their ship¡¯s the Widow¡¯s Promise, moored at the end of the pier.¡±


    Kael¡¯s stomach sank as he followed the dockworker¡¯s pointed finger. The Widow¡¯s Promise stood out like a black stain among the other vessels. Its hull was painted a deep, weathered gray, almost blending into the predawn shadows. The ship bore an air of menace, its figurehead a skeletal woman clutching a tattered veil that streamed ominously in the breeze. A pirate flag fluttered in the wind at the top of the mast.


    ¡°Of course it¡¯s that one,¡± Kael muttered under his breath, tightening his grip on the lute strap. He took a steadying breath and nodded to the dockworker. ¡°Thanks.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t thank me, kid. Just hope you come back in one piece,¡± the man said, hoisting his crate and disappearing into the gloom.


    Kael made his way to the end of the pier, each step slower than the last. As he approached, he noticed a few crew members moving about on deck, their movements precise and quiet despite their rough appearances. The scent of brine and tar hung heavy in the air, mingling with an unshakable sense of foreboding.


    He hated the smell of tar.


    At the gangplank stood Hargan, his massive frame silhouetted against the faint light of dawn. He spotted Kael and barked a laugh, his grin revealing a row of yellowed teeth. ¡°Thought you¡¯d chicken out, bardling.¡±


    "Careful now, thinking too hard might strain something you can¡¯t afford to lose," he replied, his voice braver than he felt.


    Hargan stepped aside and gestured grandly toward the gangplank, smiling broadly. ¡°Welcome aboard the Widow¡¯s Promise. Cap¡¯s waiting for you in her cabin. Don¡¯t keep her waiting.¡±


    Kael hesitated for a moment before stepping onto the gangplank. The wood creaked ominously under his weight, but he pressed forward, focusing on the rhythmic crash of waves against the hull to steady his nerves. As he set foot on the deck, the crew barely spared him a glance, each focused on their tasks. He swallowed hard, the weight of their indifference somehow more unsettling than open hostility.


    ¡°Cabin¡¯s that way,¡± Hargan growled, jerking his thumb toward a heavy door at the stern. ¡°Good luck, birdie.¡±


    Kael squared his shoulders and made his way across the deck. The air felt colder here, sharper, as if the ship itself was alive and watching him. He reached the door and hesitated, his hand hovering over the handle. For a fleeting moment, he considered turning around, but the memory of Veyla¡¯s threat- and the hope of a better future- pushed him forward.


    He knocked twice, the sound echoing hollowly, before the door creaked open on its own.


    Inside, the captain¡¯s cabin was dimly lit by a single lantern swaying from the ceiling. Charts and maps covered the walls, the table, and even parts of the floor. The faint scent of tobacco mingled with the ever-present tang of salt. At the far end of the room sat a desk but the chair behind it was empty except for a bottle of rum.


    Veyla lounged in a hammock strung up in the corner of the room, her boots crossed at the ankles. Her tricorn rested on her head, hiding half of her face as the copper accents glinted in the morning sun. With the sleeves of her shirt rolled up enough to reveal more of her scars, her shirt hung loosely from her broad shoulders.


    Kael tugged at the collar of his tunic, suddenly uncomfortably warm despite the chilly breeze.


    "Morning, birdie," she drawled, her voice carrying an edge of mockery. She didn¡¯t bother to move from her hammock, one hand resting behind her head while the other casually gestured for him to come over. "You¡¯re early. Didn¡¯t think you¡¯d have the guts to show up.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t have much of a choice, did I?¡± he asked, closing the door behind himself.


    He looked across the room, searching for a way to cross the room. It was a lot easier for him than focusing on Veyla.


    Veyla chuckled softly, the sound warm and yet somehow intimidating. "Good to see you keep your word. Not bad for a landlubber.¡±


    She swung her legs out of the hammock in a single fluid motion, landing between two stacks of books and meeting him halfway across the room.


    Up close, her presence was even more overwhelming. Her height forced him to crane his neck slightly, and her sharp grin didn¡¯t help his racing thoughts. She looked him over, her eyes lingering on his lute before flicking back to his flushed face.


    "You nervous, birdie?" she asked, her tone teasing. She reached out, gently tilting his chin up with her knuckle when he tried to avert his gaze. "Or is it something else? You look like you¡¯ve seen a ghost.¡±


    Kael opened his mouth to respond but found himself momentarily speechless. He cleared his throat and forced out ¡°Hah, not right now. Let''s- Let''s focus on the job, alright?¡±


    Her laugh rang out, genuine and loud enough for a few of the crewmembers outside to hear. "Good answer," she said, stepping back and folding her arms. "Just don¡¯t lose that tongue of yours when we¡¯re facing real danger. We¡¯re paying you for stories, not stammers."


    Kael managed a shaky nod, gripping the strap of his lute as if it were a lifeline. "So, uh, what¡¯s the first step?¡±


    ¡°First step, birdie?¡± she asked, letting go of his chin. ¡°You follow orders. Do you know anything about the Wailing Isle?¡±


    Kael frowned, wracking his brain for any mention of the name. ¡°I¡¯ve heard bits and pieces- mostly rumors. Supposedly cursed, right? Sailors say you can hear the dead wailing in the fog.¡±


    Veyla¡¯s grin widened, sending a shiver down Kael¡¯s spine. ¡°That¡¯s the place. Beneath the wailing and the fog lies a treasure- a map leading to something ancient and powerful. Problem is, the map¡¯s guardian isn¡¯t keen on letting it go.¡±


    Kael raised an eyebrow. ¡°Guardian?¡±


    ¡°The corpse of a captain who died clutching it. Problem is, every time someone tries to take the map, they end up joining him in death.¡± Veyla¡¯s voice dropped, her gaze piercing. ¡°That¡¯s where you come in. You¡¯ll talk to the old bastard, get him to give us the map, and then we¡¯ll be on our way.¡±


    Kael shifted uncomfortably. ¡°And if he refuses?¡±


    ¡°Then you get creative,¡± Veyla said, her tone leaving no room for argument. ¡°You¡¯re the bard. Make him believe it¡¯s in his best interest. Sing him a lullaby if you have to, just get that map.¡±


    Kael stared at Veyla, her sharp grin making his stomach churn. ¡°You¡¯re serious?¡± he asked, his voice cracking slightly despite his attempt to sound composed.Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡°Dead serious, birdie,¡± she replied, the word dead carrying just enough emphasis to make him uneasy. ¡°That¡¯s what you signed up for, isn¡¯t it? Adventure, treasure, maybe a little danger?¡±


    Kael rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding her gaze. ¡°I signed up to tell stories, not¡­ sweet-talk undead captains into handing over cursed maps.¡±


    ¡°Stories,¡± Veyla repeated, her tone amused. ¡°Well, this is shaping up to be a good one, don¡¯t you think? You¡¯ll thank me later when you¡¯re famous for convincing a ghost to cooperate.¡±


    He opened his mouth to protest, but the sound of boots on the deck outside made him pause. The door creaked open, and Hargan stuck his head in.


    ¡°Cap, we¡¯re set to cast off,¡± he grunted, his eyes flicking to Kael with a mixture of skepticism and faint amusement. ¡°You still want the bard on board?¡±


    ¡°Oh, he¡¯s staying,¡± Veyla said, her grin widening. ¡°He¡¯s just been promoted to official negotiator. Start thinking of a good song to woo the dead, birdie.¡±


    Hargan snorted, shaking his head. ¡°Good luck with that,¡± he muttered, disappearing back onto the deck.


    Kael shifted his weight uncomfortably. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose there¡¯s a second option?¡±


    Veyla leaned back against the desk, crossing her arms. ¡°Sure there is. You could turn tail and run, but then you¡¯d miss out on the gold¡­ and your life.¡°


    He groaned, realizing there was no easy way out. ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll do it.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the spirit!¡± Veyla said, slapping him on the back with enough force to make him stumble forward. ¡°We¡¯ll reach the Wailing Isle in a few days. In the meantime, settle in, get to know the crew, and work on that charm of yours. You¡¯ll need it.¡±


    As Kael turned to leave, Veylas voice stopped him. ¡°Oh, and Kael?¡±


    He glanced back nervously.


    ¡°Welcome to the Widow¡¯s Promise,¡± she said, her grin sharpening again. ¡°Try not to die before the real fun starts.¡±


    Kael swallowed heavily, quickly leaving the captain''s quarters.


    Hargan, true to form, wasted no time in making Kael¡¯s life miserable and threw a mop at Kael, ignoring his flailing attempts to catch it.


    ¡°Every crew member earns their place,¡± he growled, ¡°That includes you, bard. Get scrubbing.¡±


    Kael grimaced but didn¡¯t argue. The swabbing left his arms aching and his knees bruised, but he quickly discovered the real challenge wasn¡¯t the work- it was dodging the crew¡¯s taunts.


    ¡°Didn¡¯t know bards could mop,¡± Lira quipped as she passed by him, her voice dripping with mockery.


    ¡°Think he¡¯s tryin¡¯ to charm the deck,¡± Someone else piped up, earning a round of laughter.


    Kael forced a smile, silently vowing to outlast their jibes. ¡°Joke all you want, I am the only one here with a reputation.¡±


    ¡°Never heard of the captain before?¡± Lira asked, leaning in with a conspiratorial grin on her face. ¡°She''s our secret weapon, a self-taught mage strong enough to take out ships on her own.¡±


    ¡°She''s a mage?¡± Kael asked loud enough for the others currently on deck to hear.


    Lira slapped his arm, bringing her arm back around to pull his head down to huddle up. ¡°Not so loud dumbass. Cap doesn''t appreciate us talking about it. She''s got a dark past.¡±


    ¡°Dark in what way?¡± He whispered back, clutching the mop close.


    Lira looked around, making sure that Veyla couldn''t hear or see them as she pulled him to the edge of the ship. ¡°She used to be a marine, one of the most ruthless ones out there. Her control over her magic allowed her to infiltrate pirate ships and kill every single crewmember before anyone even noticed her.¡±


    ¡°W-what can she do?¡± he asked, his mind racing with some of the most ludicrous tales of mages he had heard.


    Lira inhaled deeply, preparing herself mentally. ¡°She¡­ she can-¡±


    ¡°Lira, stop messing with the birdie,¡± Veyla warned, suddenly towering over the two of them.


    Lira yelped, pushing Kael overboard as she turned around to look up at Veyla. ¡°Am not!¡±


    Kael tried to grab the railing but his fingers slipped off of the damp wood. A scream tore from his throat as the wooden planks of the ship rushed through his vision before the freezing water engulfed him. The shock of the cold hit him like a punch to the chest, stealing the air from his lungs.


    ¡°Drag him back up,¡± Veyla commanded, turning back around.


    He flailed, trying to right himself as the heavy bag on his back threatened to drag him under. The salty water burned his nose and throat as he struggled to keep his head above the surface.


    And then, like the water itself decided he was not worth the trouble, he floated to the surface, a soft splash coming from next to him as Hargan threw the lifeline down.


    ¡°Grab the rope,¡± Hargan ordered.


    Kael heard chanting from above but ignored it, flailing momentarily to grip the rope only for Hargan to immediately start pulling.


    The crew hauled him back up with surprising efficiency, though their laughter continued unabated. Kael coughed and sputtered as he was unceremoniously dumped back onto the deck, water pooling around him. His bag hung awkwardly off one shoulder, and his lute, miraculously, seemed unharmed but soaked.


    ¡°Why?¡± Kael asked Lira, groaning in annoyance, ¡°She heard you anyway.¡±


    ¡°Call it initiation,¡± Lira said with a grin, holding the mop he had lost on his way down. ¡°Every recruit gets embarrassed.¡±


    As Kael dragged himself to his feet, water still dripping from his clothes, he frowned and glanced back over the side of the ship. Something had been strange about his fall- and his rescue. The waves around the ship were unnaturally calm.


    ¡°Was it just me,¡± he asked, wringing out the edge of his tunic, ¡°or did the water suddenly¡­ stop?¡±


    Lira, who had been leaning casually against the mast, perked up with a sly grin. ¡°Good catch, Fish. Not everyone notices that.¡±


    Kael raised an eyebrow. ¡°Notice what?¡±


    Lira stood straighter, twirling the mop in her hands like a staff. ¡°That I saved your soggy hide, obviously. Those waves weren¡¯t going to be kind to a landlubber like you.¡±


    ¡°You?¡± Kael asked, incredulous. ¡°You stopped the water?¡±


    ¡°Didn¡¯t stop it,¡± Lira corrected, tossing the mop back to him. ¡°Just told it to hold still long enough for Hargan to fish you out. Don¡¯t get too excited, though- it¡¯s not like I could¡¯ve kept you afloat forever.¡±


    Kael''s mind reeled. A mage? He thought. There were plenty of stories of mages he had told before, but this was the first time he had met one. ¡°You''re a mage?¡±


    ¡°Since the day I was born,¡± Lira shrugged, walking over and leaning on the railing to peer out at the now rolling waves lapping at the shores. ¡°But don''t expect me to pull that trick every time you decide to take a swim. It''s rough, it''s messy, and frankly, it''s exhausting.¡±


    ¡°Rough is right,¡± Hargan muttered, walking past with a coil of rope. ¡°Last time she tried ¡®controlling¡¯ water, we ended up with half the galley flooded.¡±


    ¡°Hey!¡± Lira snapped, glaring at him. ¡°That was one time, and it wasn¡¯t my fault. The barrels were loose.¡±


    ¡°The barrels were loose because you broke the ties,¡± Hargan retorted without slowing down.


    Kael pinched the bridge of his nose. ¡°So let me get this straight: I almost drowned, but then you- barely- saved me, using water magic you¡¯re not even good at?¡±


    Lira smirked, crossing her arms. ¡°Pretty much.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re welcome, by the way,¡± she added.


    Kael groaned, dragging a hand down his face. ¡°Great. Just great. How is it that everyone on this ship seems to be some kind of terrifying force, and I¡¯m just the guy with a lute?¡±


    ¡°Everyone starts at the bottom, Fish- some end there as well,¡± Lira said.


    ¡°Fish?¡± Kael repeated, scowling. ¡°That¡¯s the best you could come up with?¡±


    ¡°It suits you,¡± Veyla called from the quarterdeck, her arms crossed as she watched the scene with amusement. ¡°You swim as well as a beached trout, and you look just as pathetic when you¡¯re wet.¡±


    Kael glared up at her, his pride taking another hit. ¡°I¡¯ll have you know I¡¯m an excellent swimmer- just not when I¡¯m carrying half my weight in gear.¡±


    ¡°Excuses won¡¯t keep you alive out here, Fish,¡± Veyla replied, smirking. ¡°Learn to adapt, or you¡¯ll be chum for the sharks.¡±


    ¡°Fine. What¡¯s on for tomorrow? More swabbing?¡±


    ¡°Nah,¡± Lira said with a mischievous grin. ¡°You¡¯re on galley duty tomorrow. Better hope you can cook, Fish.¡±


    ¡°Galley duty?¡± Kael groaned, his shoulders slumping. He had always hated cooking in the tavern. ¡°What happened to being the bard? The one who tells stories and sings songs?¡±


    At least this was something he could do.


    ¡°Being the bard doesn¡¯t exempt you from work,¡± Veyla said, descending the steps to stand in front of him. She leaned in close, her eyes gleaming with challenge. ¡°Earn your place on this ship, and maybe you¡¯ll get to play your lute instead of scrubbing decks. Until then, you¡¯re just another recruit.¡±


    Kael opened his mouth to argue but thought better of it. Instead, he straightened his shoulders and met her gaze. ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll earn my place. But don¡¯t come crying to me when I¡¯m the only one who knows how to keep a ghost entertained.¡±


    As the Widow¡¯s Promise pulled away from the docks, the creaking of the ropes and the rhythmic slap of the waves against the hull signaled the start of their voyage. Kael stood at the railing, clutching his lute with one hand while wringing out his soaked tunic with the other. The faint glow of dawn painted the horizon, casting an amber sheen across the restless sea. He watched the shoreline shrink into the distance, his stomach twisting with both anticipation and dread. Whatever lay ahead on the Wailing Isle, he had a sinking feeling that no song in his repertoire would prepare him for it.


    But that didn¡¯t have to be bad.


    Maybe he¡¯d finally have a song written about himself.

 Chapter Three - The Road of Trials

    By the time the fog-shrouded outline of the Wailing Isle appeared on the horizon, Kael felt no more prepared than when he¡¯d first set foot on the ship. The haunting wails that gave the island its name echoed across the water, sending chills down his spine.


    Veyla stood at the prow, her eyes fixed on the island. She glanced over her shoulder at Kael, who clutched his lute like a lifeline.


    ¡°Time to earn your keep, birdie,¡± she said, her grin full of wicked anticipation. ¡°Let¡¯s go have a chat with the dead.¡±


    ¡°Captain, Marine¡¯s ahead,¡± Hargan said, half a loaf of bread leftover from lunch in his hand. ¡°Two ships. Whatcha wanna do?¡±


    ¡°We need to make landfall to get to the wreck,¡± Veyla mused, tapping her chin with a finger. ¡°Hargan, hoist the trade flag and keep the cannons tucked away for now. We¡¯re humble merchants today.¡±


    ¡°Aye, Cap¡¯n,¡± Hargan rumbled, stuffing the rest of the bread into his mouth and barking orders to the crew, ignorant of the chunks of bread flying onto deck.


    Kael¡¯s stomach churned, though he couldn¡¯t tell if it was from the rolling waves and the song of the island humming in his ears or the prospect of facing the marines. He had no pleasant experiences with marines to speak of and that was when he was still a simple bard, not working with pirates.


    There was so much death here, he didn¡¯t even need to play his lute to feel the spirits in this place. ¡°Do you think they¡¯ll buy it?¡± he asked, his voice quieter than he intended.


    He cleared his throat, but before he could speak up again, Veyla turned to him with a brow arched. ¡°Depends on how convincing we look. You ever play a humble merchant before, birdie?¡±


    ¡°Uh, no. There aren¡¯t a lot of tales about humble merchants¡­ but I can play the lute,¡± Kael offered weakly. He might be able to convince the marines that he was a bard travelling with them.


    It wouldn¡¯t be too conspicuous if a bunch of merchants arranged for a bard to accompany them for entertainment.


    Veyla¡¯s laughter was loud enough to make a few crew members glance their way. ¡°Good. If they board us, you¡¯re the entertainment. Keep their attention on you, not on what we¡¯re hiding below deck. Our hiding spots aren¡¯t perfect but might just pass with a bit of distraction.¡±


    Kael didn¡¯t have time to ask what exactly they were hiding below deck before the whirlwind of activity that the crew had turned into swept him up, forcing him to lend hands wherever needed. Lira grabbed him by the shoulder and dragged him along to help her with the sails.


    The ship slowed as the marine vessels closed in, their sleek, well-maintained hulls cutting through the water like knives. They matched speed with the Widow¡¯s Promise, one ship on either side as one pulled up close enough for the crews on deck to speak.


    The captain, a tall man with a face weathered by years at sea, his pristine uniform a glaring contrast to the worn clothes of Veyla¡¯s crew, stepped forward.


    ¡°Ahoy there!¡± the Marine captain called out. ¡°Identify yourselves and state your purpose!¡±


    Veyla stepped forward, radiating confidence despite the tension crackling in the air. ¡°Captain Marina Vey, at your service!¡± she called back, her tone cheerful and disarming as she stepped up to the side with the captain. ¡°We¡¯re humble traders on our way to deliver goods to the outer isles.¡±


    Kael nearly choked. Marina Vey? That was the best alias she could come up with?


    If she used to be a marine captain, wouldn¡¯t he recognise her?


    The Marine captain didn¡¯t seem convinced. His sharp eyes swept over the ship, lingering on the mismatched crew and weathered hull. ¡°You don¡¯t look like traders,¡± he said, his tone skeptical. ¡°What¡¯s your cargo?¡±


    Veyla didn¡¯t miss a beat. ¡°Spices and textiles,¡± she said smoothly. ¡°Rare imports for discerning buyers. Nothing illegal, I assure you.¡±


    The Marine captain frowned, then gestured to his men, who quickly brought out a long plank with hooks attached at either end. ¡°We¡¯ll need to board and inspect your cargo.¡±


    Kael felt his heart drop. He shot a panicked look at Veyla, who didn¡¯t even flinch. ¡°Of course,¡± she said, stepping aside to let the marines aboard. ¡°We have nothing to hide.¡±


    As the marines climbed aboard, Veyla walked past Kael and kicked his leg. ¡°I hope you don¡¯t mind our bard playing something. He¡¯s been itching to use that lute since we departed, but playing for the same crowd every day gets depressing- or so he says.¡±


    Kael swallowed heavily, but unslung his lute and put on the best charming smile he could. He had done this dozens of times, played when he didn¡¯t want to. He could do this.


    ¡°No, don¡¯t mind at all,¡± the captain said, stepping aboard as the last man of his crew.


    Kael¡¯s hands felt clammy against the neck of his lute, but he forced his fingers to steady as he struck the first chord.


    The sound rang out across the deck, soft at first as he found his rhythm, then swelling into a lilting tune. It was a sea shanty, one he¡¯d learned from an old sailor in a tavern years ago, its rhythm mimicking the heartbeat of labor on a ship. He started singing along as he got through the first chorus, leaving ample time for others to join in for the response.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    The marines paused in their inspection for but a moment, their heads turning toward him as the melody grew richer, weaving through the salty air like a spell. Some of them hummed along.


    Veyla leaned casually against the railing, talking with the captain, her expression relaxed but her sharp eyes tracking every move the marines made.


    Kael¡¯s fingers danced over the strings, the music coming easier now as he found the flow and got the rest of the crews to join in. The song shifted, morphing into something more haunting, a melody that carried the weight of the seas¡¯ secrets. It was unintentional, but the song slowly morphed from a sea shanty to keep the rhythm of their work to something more akin to his usual works- a hauntingly beautiful melody.


    He barely noticed it before it happened.


    The Marines hesitated on the deck, their skeptical gazes softening as the eerie music filled the space between them. Veyla, ever sharp, caught the subtle shift in their demeanor and leaned back against the railing, her grin sharpening. ¡°Our bard¡¯s a rare talent,¡± she said smoothly. ¡°Plays like he¡¯s drawing magic from the waves themselves.¡±


    Kael didn¡¯t pay attention to her words, his focus instead entirely on the music, which seemed to take a life of its own.


    As the notes rang out, the wailing from the isles seemed to resonate, matching his eerie tune in a cacophony of wails to harmonise in a way that made the hairs on his neck stand on end. The fog around the ship played along, thickening noticeably and swirling like flames lapping at the hulls of the ships, seeking to burn them down and add them to the countless wreckages hidden below.


    This melody needed no voices. Kael simply played the lute as the crew members fell silent, unsure how to respond to the change in tone.


    ¡°Uh¡­ Captain?¡± one marine whispered, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword tightly.


    Veyla¡¯s grin didn¡¯t falter, though her eyes narrowed slightly. ¡°Relax,¡± she said, ¡°It¡¯s just the Wailing Isles acting up. Lots of fog around here, nothing to worry about.¡±


    Kael wasn¡¯t so sure. The air felt heavier, pressing down on him with an almost tangible weight he was all too familiar with. It was the same pressure he had felt whenever he went to the Blackspire.


    Figures materialized in the fog, pale and translucent, their features blurred and shifting like reflections in the water. They were the victims of old trade routes that lost their way in the fog and crashed into the rocks.


    They drifted closer, their forms becoming clearer as they emerged fully from the mist.


    Kael¡¯s breath caught in his throat as he realized they were watching him alone. The others aboard couldn¡¯t see them, but he knew them to be real, to be able to inflict genuine pain if he were to falter in his song and disappoint.


    The scar across his shoulder throbbed in pain like a reminder of the dead. He might see the restless dead and talk with them, but that also meant they could hurt him if he didn¡¯t treat them with the proper respect.


    ¡°Kael,¡± a voice whispered, soft and mournful. It still ripped him away from his thoughts, forcing him to acknowledge them.


    His fingers faltered on the strings, the melody breaking for a moment before he forced himself to continue. He glanced around, but no one else seemed to have noticed.


    The marines were already going below deck to continue their search hastily, wishing to exit the mist as soon as possible, their courage failing as the fog thickened.


    The ghosts, however, remained.


    One of them floated closer, its face taking on the appearance of a man with hollow, sunken eyes and a skeletal grin. ¡°You play for the dead, bard,¡± he said, his voice echoing in his mind like a needle piercing his skull, ¡°What will you offer us in return?¡±


    Kael swallowed hard, his voice shaking as he stammered quietly. He tried to keep his voice quiet enough for no one to hear. ¡°I- I didn¡¯t mean to summon you, please. I was just-¡±


    ¡°Playing,¡± another ghost interrupted with a giggle, its figure that of a gaunt woman in tattered sailor¡¯s garb. ¡°Your song reached us, called us forth. Now, what will you do?¡±


    The world around him seemed to fade as a particularly thick cloud of fog rolled over the ships, the crew and remaining marines vanishing into shadows as the ghosts encircled him, their spectral bodies as clear as ever. Their forms loomed closer, eyes filled with both curiosity and malice.


    ¡°Your crew sought the Wailing Isle,¡± the woman said. ¡°Do you know its cost?¡±


    Kael¡¯s heart pounded, but he straightened his shoulders, gripping his lute tighter. ¡°I know it¡¯s cursed,¡± he said, his voice steadier than he felt. ¡°But we¡¯re here for answers, for something one of you guards.¡±


    The ghosts exchanged glances, their movements slow and jerky, like they were puppets controlled by some invisible string. Their skeletal smiles widened in unison as they echoed in unison, ¡°The map¡­¡±


    ¡°Only the brave may claim it,¡± the man said, his hollow eyes boring into Kael¡¯s, ¡°those willing to embrace the truth of death.¡±


    Kael¡¯s fingers moved instinctively, striking up a new tune to change this encounter. He found that the restless dead always reacted to the song he was playing more than to his words. He played a song of remembrance, one he had written after his best friend had died out at sea to celebrate the lives of those who dared and had their lives cut short.


    The ghosts grew still, their forms swaying gently as the melody washed over them.


    ¡°You play with courage,¡± the woman said, her tone almost approving, ¡°but courage alone is not enough. Will you face the island, bard? Even when your crew stands in your way? Will you face us?¡±


    The music faltered as Kael hesitated. Their gaze was like a weight on his back, pressing down on him like the depth of the sea. He was the only one who could do this, the only one who could talk with them.


    Finally, he nodded. ¡°I will.¡±


    The woman smiled, her skeletal grin both chilling and strangely approving. ¡°Then we will see if your song can reach the heart of the Isle,¡± she said.


    As quickly as they had appeared, the ghosts faded, their forms dissolving into the fog. The wailing from the island quieted, leaving an eerie stillness in its wake.


    Kael blinked, the world snapping back into focus. The Marines were gone, their ship retreating into the distance. Veyla was still leaning against the railing, watching him with a sharp, curious expression.


    ¡°Not bad, birdie,¡± she said, her voice cutting through the silence. ¡°Didn¡¯t think you had it in you. Talked to the dead?¡±


    Kael turned to her, his grip on the lute tightening as he nodded. ¡°I think I know where we need to go,¡± he said, his voice trembling. ¡°The heart of the Isle, the captain is there.¡±


    ¡°Well done,¡± Veyla said, clapping him on the shoulder as the ship started moving again, right towards the Wailing Isle. ¡°I hope you¡¯re ready for an encore.¡±