"So, she rejected you, huh? Tough break."
The naval yard was a cacophony of organized chaos. Sailors barked orders and hauled crates filled with supplies, their muscles straining under the weight. Carpenters were engrossed in their work, the rhythmic pounding of hammers echoing through the air as they made last-minute repairs to the ship's hull. Mages, their robes adorned with arcane symbols, chanted incantations, their hands glowing as they enchanted various parts of the ship for added durability and speed.
"A little to the left! Careful with that barrel, it's filled with gunpowder!" I shouted to a group of workers struggling with a particularly heavy crate.
Satisfied that disaster has been averted, I turn my attention back to Elara.
"For the last time, she didn't reject me. She just … has a lot on her plate right now. You know, being the Mistress of Arcane and all."
She snorted, her boots swinging idly as she perched on a stack of crates, looking entirely too comfortable amidst the organized chaos of the naval shipyard. "Oh, right. The classic 'it's not you, it's me' line. Works every time."
"You're enjoying this way too much."
"Can you blame me? Why do you think she rejected you though? Wasn't she searching for those isles too?"
"The hell if I know."
"Maybe she caught on your pretentiousness nature quicker than other's do. They don't call her wise for nothing."
I ignored her, choosing instead to focus on the task at hand – namely, making sure the Sea Wyvern – the vessel the Admiral had generously "loaned" me for this little expedition - was ready to sail by dawn.
Two days since I'd visited The Raven's Wing. Two days of waiting, of hoping… of fantasizing … that Thalira would change her mind. When she'd said she needed to "think things over", I'd actually allowed myself to believe…
And then, the next morning, a message arrived. A polite refusal. Couched in vague terms about 'prior commitments' and 'destiny's capricious nature'. But apparently, our conversation had 'inspired her to pursue certain things she'd been putting off for a long time.' She wished me well on my journey.
Inspired her? What the hell did I say? Did I accidentally give a motivational speech while trying to seduce her? I was asking for help god damn's sake.
I mentally cursed myself, irritated by the whole situation.
Just then, Luke approached. "Aedan got a moment. Got an update on recruitment."
"Go on, what's the word?"
"We've got most of the crew sorted," Luke said, a relieved smile on his face. "Gunners, riggers, healers, parsons."
"That leaves… the navigator."
"Bingo."
"I could always give it a go," Elara offered, swinging her legs back and forth. "How hard can it be? Point the ship in the right direction… avoid the occasional storm…"
I snorted. "You? The one who gets lost trying to find your way out of a tavern. The open sea? Nah, I'd sooner trust a blindfolded monkey with a compass."
"Oi!"
I turned back to Luke. "Did you put in a request for transfers from the other fleets? Maybe someone in the Coastal Guard or the Expedition Division?"
"I did, but…" He hesitated. "Half the available navigators are shitting themselves at the mention of Elysara. The other half… well, they're either too busy charting trade routes to the Spice Isles or they're…not exactly the kind of people we want on board for this particular voyage."
"So? What's the solution, then? Out with it." I knew Luke well enough to know that he wouldn't come to me with a problem unless he already had an answer up his sleeve.
"There's…one man. Lee Wat."
"Lee Wat?" Elara giggled. "Sounds like a sound a drunken seagull makes."
I ignored her. "Is he any good? "
"One of the best I've ever seen. Brilliant with charts, understands currents like no one else… and he's mad enough to consider sailing with us. Probably."
"So what's the catch?"
"He's scheduled to be hanged next week."
Elara let out a low whistle. "Bloody hell. Why is he facing the gallows?"
"He's a former pirate," Luke added, "caught in a skirmish with the Coastal Guard a few months back."
She chuckled, "This just keeps getting better and better."
I sighed, rubbing my temples. "Luke, are you telling me that our best option for a navigator is a man who's about to dance at the end of a rope?"
"He's the only one who fits the bill. His skill is unmatched, and he's just the kind of crazy we need."
"Oh, this is just too perfect." Elara was practically bouncing with glee. "A condemned pirate to guide us… what could possibly go wrong?"
Luke shrugged. "In the time we have, I don't know anyone better suited for the role."
I pondered for a moment. It was a gamble, but then again, this entire expedition was a gamble. Desperate times…. "Alright, set it up. I want to meet him. If he's as good as you say, we'll find a way to get him out of his… current engagement."
"I will arrange it."
As he walked away, Elara leaned in, "You do realize we're scraping the bottom of the barrel here, right? A condemned pirate? What's next, recruiting a talking monkey?"
"Sometimes, the bottom of the barrel is where you find the most … interesting… characters. And trust me, for this journey…we're going to need all the interesting we can get."
"You and your damn interesting…" She muttered, shaking her head.
A sudden ruckus over by one of the dry docks snagged my attention. I glanced at Elara, who just shrugged, equally curious. I weaved my way through the crowd of sailors and workers to check it out. What I found was a tense standoff: a bunch of soldiers, faces red with annoyance, were in a heated argument with a woman
She was a vision, a stark contrast to the rough-and-tumble around her. Her brown hair cascaded in soft waves, framing a pale, oval face that was a portrait of composed indignation.
Her gown – deep emerald green, the fabric clinging to her curves like a second skin – was clearly made for a noblewoman, not for the rough-and-tumble world of a shipyard. A necklace of pearls gleamed at her throat, accentuating the smooth, pale skin.
"What seems to be the problem here?" I asked, my voice carrying over the shouts and the clang of hammers.
"Captain Aedan, sir," one of the soldiers saluted, snapping to attention. "This woman is causing a disturbance."
"I am not!"
"She refuses to leave, sir." Another officer chimed in. "Says she needs to speak to you personally."
"Me?" I said, completely baffled. I'd never seen her before in my life. "Is that so?"
She nodded, her green eyes meeting mine. "Y-Yes.."
"Very well," I waved my hand, dismissing the soldiers. "What is it that you want to discuss?"
"C-Can… we talk in private?"
I looked around at the organized chaos that was my ship's final preparations. "Very well."
* * *
We ended up at The Seafarer's Rest - a tavern just a stone's throw from the docks. It wasn't exactly known for its cuisine – the ale was suspect, the stew even more so – but it was relatively quiet this time of day, and the owner was a friend.
"Have a seat." I gestured towards an empty table in a dimly lit corner, away from the few patrons nursing their morning hangovers. The air smelled of stale beer and something that might have once been fish. Not exactly romantic, but it would have to do.
"Thank you." The woman settled gracefully into the chair, her gown rustling around her like a whisper. I took the seat opposite her, trying not to stare. Up close, she was even more stunning - her skin flawless, her lips full and slightly parted as if inviting a kiss. Those green eyes… they were mesmerizing.
"So…" I leaned back, folding my arms. "To whom am I speaking?"
"Evelyn," she said, a gentle smile lighting up her face.
"A pleasure, Lady Evelyn. "
"The pleasure is all mine, Captain." Her smile widened.
"Can I offer you something? Something to eat, perhaps?" I signaled to a passing serving girl – a sullen-looking wench who'd probably seen more naval officers than she cared to remember.
"No, thank you." Evelyn shook her head. "I'm not… hungry."
"A drink, then?"
She glanced around, her eyes taking in the worn wooden tables, the chipped mugs, and the harried waitstaff. "I think I'll pass."
"Smart choice," I said, gesturing to bring us two glasses of water. "So, Evelyn, what brings you to this part of town?"
"Well… you see… I'm a scholar."
"Okay…"
"I've always been… fascinated by the world, you see. History, ancient cultures, lost civilizations…" Her eyes lit up as she spoke. "And I've always wanted to… to travel, to see things firsthand. To experience… adventure."
"And?"
"Elysara…" She leaned forward, her voice dropping to a whisper. "I've read everything I could find about it – the legends, the rumors, the lost expeditions…"
I waited, wondering where this was going.
"So when I heard that the Empire was mounting another expedition…"
"Hold on," I cut her off, my mind reeling. "How did you hear about the… expedition?"
She blushed. "Well… m-my parents… they're … they're nobles, you see. And I overheard them talking…"
"And the Isles have caught your scholarly eye, I take it?"
Evelyn's eyes sparkled, and she launched into a passionate dissertation that would have made a university professor proud.
"Oh, yes! Ever since I was a little girl… I heard the stories, you see – whispers from sailors, tales sang by bards… They spoke of a place… beyond our world… a place where the stars touched the earth and the very air hummed with magic. A place where the gods walked among men… and where ancient secrets lay hidden, waiting to be discovered." Her voice carried a dreamy quality. "And I knew … I knew… that I had to see it for myself, to record it all for posterity… It became… a dream."
"Right…" I held up a hand, cutting her off before she could launch into a full-blown lecture. Enthusiasm was all well and good, but this was starting to feel… bit naive. "So… you want to … join the expedition? "
She nodded, her eyes wide and hopeful. "More than anything."
"Evelyn, you do realize what you're asking, don't you?" I said gently. "This isn't some pleasure cruise to the Summer Isles. We're sailing into the unknown… quite literally. I can't guarantee your safety."
"I'm…aware of the risks, Captain." Her voice was quieter now. "But I can handle myself. And think of the knowledge we could gain! The discoveries we could make! To be able to contribute to our understanding of the world…. This opportunity….. It's too important…too vital to pass up! I won't be a burden… I promise."
I'd had scholars and researchers on board before, of course. Most of them were harmless enough – a bit eccentric, maybe, but generally content to poke around in ancient ruins and scribble notes in their journals. But this mission…this was different. This is a suicide mission disguised as a treasure hunt.
And Evelyn… well, she looked like she'd faint at the sight of a barnacle, let alone a sea monster. This was no place for a bored noblewoman playing at adventure.
"Look, I appreciate your enthusiasm, Evelyn. And your skills… they are valuable." I chose my words carefully. "But this journey… it's not for the faint of heart. The Isles are a place of untold dangers, of… forces we don't understand. Risking your life… for research, it is not wise."
"I understand," she said earnestly. "But I assure you, I won't be a … dead weight. I can contribute. I'm… I'm stronger than I look. I'll pull my weight, I promise."
"It's not just about 'pulling your weight', Evelyn." I sighed, feeling a headache building. "It's about survival. The seas are treacherous, the unknown…well, it's called that for a reason."
"I've faced adversity before, Captain," she insisted. "Maybe not this kind… but I learn quickly. And I can handle myself better than you might think."
"Evelyn, handling ancient texts and dusty artifacts is one thing. This…this is…"
"Who's to say I can't learn?" She countered. "Besides, not every problem can be solved with a sword or a spell. Sometimes… knowledge is the most potent weapon."
I smiled, grudgingly impressed. She was persistent. I'd give her that.
"You make a compelling argument, Evelyn. I will give you that."I leaned back, studying her, trying to see past the eager enthusiasm, the naïve optimism that seemed to radiate from her like a beacon. "But the stakes … they're higher than you can imagine. One wrong move, one miscalculation … and it's not just your life on the line. It's the entire crew.
I looked out the window, towards the harbor, the masts of a hundred ships swaying gently in the breeze. "The sea… she's a cruel mistress. She doesn't care for titles or ambitions. All she cares about is… testing the mettle of those who dare to traverse her expanses. And the Isles? They're an enigma that has claimed better men and women than either of us. We'll be facing things… that no lore or history can prepare us for."
"But isn't that the essence of discovery?" she retorted. "To venture into the unknown… armed with whatever knowledge and … courage… we can muster?"
I sighed. She was starting to sound like one of those academy freshmen, all bright eyes and naive ideals. "Courage won't shield you from a kraken's tentacles or deflect whispers of a curse. I've seen seasoned warriors lose their lives to lesser threats."
"But—"
And so it went, back and forth, her passionate pleas clashing with my stubborn practicality. She argued, I countered.
"No, Evelyn. I appreciate your… passion. Truly. But this voyage…it's just too dangerous. I can't take that risk."
Her shoulders slumped, and the light in her eyes dimmed. She was disappointed. I got it. But the Sea Wyvern wasn't a playground for bored noble ladies seeking adventure. I had enough on my plate without having to worry about protecting some delicate flower from the harsh realities of the Azure Expanse.
"I … I'd hoped it wouldn't come to this." Her voice was barely a whisper. She paused, then gestured towards my wrist. "How did you get that?"
I glanced down at the cut – a souvenir from my little tango with Morwen and his cursed cutlass. The gash though healing well, was still an angry red line across my skin.
"Combat."
"May I… see your hand, Captain?" She held out her palm, her gaze intent.
"What?"
"Just… trust me. You'll understand in a moment. Please."
I hesitated, but something in her eyes – a mixture of pleading and determination – made me comply. I held out my hand.
She took my hand in hers, her touch surprisingly firm. Then she closed her eyes, her brow furrowing in concentration.
For few moments, nothing happened. The tavern around us continued in its usual hum of activity, waiters weaving through tables, patrons lost in their own worlds.
Her passion and stubbornness were admirable, but I can tell that she was out of her element. She seemed like someone who had been brought up in a gilded castle, far removed from the harsh realities and sparse luxuries of life at sea.
My focus narrowed to her face, close up, she was even more … captivating. A stray strand of her carefully braided hair had escaped its confines, curling softly against her cheek. She brushed it back absently, but it immediately fell forward again, as if determined to frame the delicate curve of her cheek. I liked that.
I found myself oddly charmed. There was an innocent charm about her that I couldn't quite place.
She began to chant under her breath, the words a soft murmur I couldn't quite make out. The world around me seemed to fade, leaving only the sensation of her hands on my wrist and the rhythmic cadence of her voice.
Nothing happened. I was about to pull my hand away, to tell her to save her breath, when a strange sensation washed over me. A wave of heat, concentrated on my wrist where her fingers were pressed against my skin. It wasn't painful, not exactly… it was… well, imagine a thousand tiny sparks, all converging on a single point.
The world around me… it blurred, the sounds of the shipyard fading- the hammers, the shouts, the screaming gulls – faded away, replaced by a ringing silence.
For a moment, I felt like I was falling… or maybe flying. It was… exhilarating and terrifying all at once.
Evelyn's eyes snapped open, those green depths now clear and focused. She released my hand. The room snapped back into focus, the background noise rushing back in like a tide reclaiming its shore.
"There," she whispered, a triumphant smile on her lips. "All better."
I checked my wrist, expecting to see the cut, but there was… nothing. It was as if it had never been there at all. I blinked, confused.
Arcane healing was … well, it wasn't exactly subtle. It usually fastened the body's natural healing processes – knitting bones, closing wounds, regenerating tissue. They turn the body's natural healing mechanisms into an efficient assembly line, each part working in overdrive to restore the body to its original state.
The magic serves as a conduit, channeling the body's innate ability to heal itself but doing so in a fraction of the time it would normally take. It's a fascinating interplay between the natural and the supernatural, a dance of biology and mysticism that has been studied and refined over centuries.
It was like… a shipwright repairing a hull. One might replace rotten timbers, patch holes, caulk seams. But the evidence of the damage…it remained. A scar. A reminder, but it's functional again.
But this… this felt different.
I rubbed the spot where the gash had been, just to make sure I wasn't imagining things. Smooth. Unblemished. Like new.
Injuries are scars of existence, indelible marks that we carry with us. They can be healed, yes, but never entirely erased. They serve as reminders of our vulnerabilities, our battles, our histories. Yet, as I rubbed the spot where a cut had been just moments ago, I found nothing—no scar, no trace, not even the faintest line. It was as if the injury had never happened, as if that moment in time had been plucked out of existence.
What had she done?
Evelyn's face beamed with the kind of pride you'd see in a child who had just drawn their first picture, waiting for a round of applause.
"Is this your blessing?"
She nodded vigorously. "Yes! See?" She turned her hand over, revealing the back of it. Etched there, just below her knuckles, was a symbol – a series of intricate lines and curves that seemed to shimmer faintly in the dim light of the tavern.
"I was bestowed it when I was eight years old," Evelyn said proudly. "But my family… they don't let me use it often."
No shit. A Blessing like that… it was powerful, dangerous. They attract attention, the kind that leads to exploitation and abuse. The world is full of those who would see such a gift not as a blessing, but as a resource to be mined, a weapon to be wielded.
I'd seen it happen. Hell, I'd seen the results of such… manipulation… firsthand. It rarely ended well.
The fact that Evelyn's family had managed to keep this a secret for so long… they must have been pulling strings, calling in favors, erasing records.
"Captain?"
I snapped out of my thoughts. "Evelyn…have you … done this… on anyone else?"
"No," she said quickly. "My family is… very strict about … sharing my Blessing. It's… only for emergency. Important ones."
Which, apparently, included providing healing a stranger she'd just met in a tavern. Gods, the girl was clueless. This was beyond reckless. This was… suicidal.
"Listen to me, Evelyn," I said, my voice firm. "Never…never… do that again. Not without knowing exactly who you're healing, what their intentions are."
"Y-yes. Of course. That was… hasty. But I had to… I had to show you that I could be… useful."
"Hasty and…reckless," I agreed. "It was dangerous. You can't just go around doing this."
"I know… I just… I didn't know what else to do," she whispered, her gaze fixed on the table. "You…you weren't listening to me."
"That's still not a good enough reason."
It was like watching a candle flame gutter out. She looked…small. Vulnerable. A part of me, the part that had spent years clawing my way out of the gutters of Docks, wanted to tell her to go back, to her books and her noble family. This life, this journey… it would chew her up and spit her out.
But then… that damn Blessing. The way she'd erased my injury… like it had never happened. It was… useful. And if Elysara was half as dangerous as claimed…
The thought of having such a resource on a trip like this was almost too good to pass up. But then there was Evelyn—naive, sheltered, and greener than a spring leaf. She was a wild card, a question mark that could throw a wrench into the whole damn thing. The expedition was already a mess of unknowns.
My mind oscillated between these opposing considerations, every argument met with a counterargument, every point smacked back with a counterpoint.
"Evelyn…" I sighed. "Why are you so determined to go on this trip so badly?"
She paused, taking a deep breath as if gathering the courage to continue. "I've always been passionate about history, about the stories that shape our world. But I've never had the chance to truly explore that passion. I've been confined to books and scrolls, to the whispers of scholars who visit our estate. When I heard about this expedition, I felt like… like it was my one chance to actually live the stories I've only read about."
Her voice wavered, and she looked down again. "My family… they've always… sheltered me. Protected me. Which I understand… it's … it's for my own good." She gave a bitter laugh. "But it also meant … I've never really had a chance to… live. To follow my passions. To see the world." Her voice cracked. "When I was younger, I healed a wounded bird in the garden. My mother found out. She was so furious, she locked me in my room for a week. She made me swear never to use my power again unless it was absolutely necessary. They … they wouldn't even let me study at the Academy. Said it was … too dangerous for a woman. That my Blessing… it was too … valuable to risk."
She looked up, her green eyes filled with a longing that surprised me. "I've lived my whole life in the shadows of what I could be. This expedition, dangerous as it may be, feels like a sliver of light piercing through that darkness."
Here was a woman who had been given an extraordinary gift, yet was shackled by the very circumstances that should have set her free.
I was quiet for a long moment, considering. I thought about what she'd said about knowledge being a weapon. What I'd told Elara… about needing all the "interesting" I could get for this journey.
Maybe…
"If you're to come on board," I began, and I saw her eyes light up like the first stars of the evening sky.
"Really, Captain? You … you'll let me come?"
"On one condition," I said, holding up a finger. "You'll be under my direct care. You'll obey every order, follow every protocol, and adhere to the chain of command. Is that understood?"
Her face lit up, a smile breaking across her face like the dawn. "Yes! I will! I promise!"
I leaned back in my chair, studying her. "You'll be entering a world far removed from the sheltered life you've known. The sea is unforgiving, and so are the men and women who call it home. You'll need to be strong, vigilant, and, above all, discreet about your abilities."
"Yes!" she said, practically shouting. "THANK YOU!!!!"
A few patrons turned to stare, their eyebrows raised.
"Sorry," she whispered, her cheeks flushing again. "I'm… just … thank you, Captain. Thank you so much. You won't regret this. I promise. I'll work hard, and I'll … I'll be careful, and…"
As she rambled on, I leaned back, watching her, a strange sense of apprehension… settling in my gut.
Playing it safe had never been my style, but I'd like to think I wasn't reckless. Elara might disagree, of course, but then…she always did enjoy a good lecture.
My gut – that damned, always-right bastard – told me this… this could work. Evelyn, for all her naivete and sheltered upbringing, had a spark. A fire in her eyes that reminded me of… well, of myself, maybe. And that Blessing of hers … damn, it was powerful. Unpredictable. Dangerous.
Well, I'd just made a gamble.
Whether it ended in triumph or disaster… only time – and the cruel whims of the sea – would tell.