Kalaman entered Nahar’s room, making sure to close the door behind him. The captain was sitting behind his desk, ushering Kalaman to take a seat. He walked in front of the table and stood, not bothering to use the chair.

Nahar sighed. “You really haven’t changed, have you, Kalaman?”

“You seemed to have changed a lot,” Kalaman replied. “I never pegged you as a business type."

"Eh, the time goes by.” Nahar shrugged. “Y’know, after we parted ways, I ended up working as a privateer with the Farlan military for a while. Crazy how that works, huh? Two criminals. One became a government dog, the other a legendary hero.”

“And what’s this government dog doing, asking a hero to escort him? Don’t think I didn’t notice the stench of blood.”

“My, your sense of smell is as spectacular as always.” Nahar smiled. “Well, to answer your question, I was a government dog.”

Kalaman scoffed. “What, the high-and-mighty lifestyle get too stuffy for you?”

The captain sighed as he placed his hands on the table. “As you might’ve already heard, Farlan’s about to wage war with the north. Gonna drag a whole bunch of its allied nations into it, too. It’s gonna be a really big war, Kalaman.”

“And? Sounds like a perfect opportunity for scoundrels like you.”

“Maybe. But I don’t want any part of it.” Nahar took out a vial from his pockets and placed it on the table. It was a dark purple liquid, with a red streak floating inside it. “This familiar to you?”

“...I thought you hated potions like that.”

Despite appearances, Nahar was quite soft. When they were still criminals, they’d loot and plunder many innocent people, but murder was where Nahar drew the line. Killing innocents never sat right with him.

“Guess what? I have a whole stash of these hidden under the ship. Thousands of them. All very potent, too. I stole it from the military. Turns out, they plan on forcing prisoner mages to drink them, then have them sneak into the enemy cities. When they die, they’d envelop the entire settlement with the toxic gas. They already took one down with this tactic before. Hundreds of thousands died.”

“So you stole it from them. Why?”

“I’m deserting! And I’m taking their potions with me!” Nahar laughed. “Honestly, Farlan can go to shit. But, as you’d expect, they obviously want their potions back, along with my severed head. They almost got me once, too. Lost most of my crew in the process, so I switched ships.”

“Did you kill the original owners? Doesn’t sound like you.”

“No, I bribed ‘em. Well, some of ‘em. The others weren’t willing to go down without a fight, and things happened. Anyways, Farlan’s after me, and I figured I’d need someone of your caliber to keep us alive till we reach Tisah.”

Kalaman glared at him, trying to see if he had any ulterior motives. He trusted him more than most people, considering they did work together for a while, but he wasn’t naïve enough to just blindly accept everything he was saying.

“...Where’s the payment?” Kalaman asked.

Nahar pulled something from under the table and placed it on top. It was a huge bag, filled with gold and jewels. “As promised. Enough money to keep you afloat your entire life. Of course, this is only half the total pay. You’ll get the other half when we arrive safely.”

“I’m still surprised you’d shell out this much money for a simple job like this. You could’ve hired another adventurer for a lot less.”

“It isn’t about the money, Kalaman. I’m not deserting because of the money. If this is the amount I need to have you on board, then so be it. You wouldn’t accept this job for any less, right? Considering how much you hate me.”

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“Hm. You’re right. I would accept less pay to kill you.”

Nahar laughed. “That’s how I know I can trust you. Anyways, it’s going to be a long voyage, so I hope you stay comfortable.”

Kalaman and Nahar didn’t get along anymore due to an incident in the past (though it was debatable if they ever got along at all). However, with pay like this, Kalaman saw no reason to decline the job.

He could always kill Nahar after.

Kalaman left the room and breathed out a long sigh. There was no way he would tell the rest of his party about the truth of this deal. For better or for worse, they might not react well when they realize they’re helping wanted criminals smuggling illegal potions. Kalaman could use without any hassle for a while. They were much more tolerable when they weren’t complaining about something or other.

†

Not wanting to go back to his room, Kalaman decided to head for the upper deck. The breeze was cool and pleasant. The sound of the waves was nice, too. At least, it should’ve been. He didn’t even know if he missed the times when he used to find such things relaxing anymore.

He remembered the first time he saw the sea. Kalaman was born and raised in southern Veil, where the desert surrounded him. He remembered feeling such awe at seeing the vast expanse of the ocean; how blue it all was.

Kalaman walked and stood at the edge of the railing. Somehow, it wasn’t as blue anymore.

He noticed a figure at the edge of his vision. Atop the poop deck, Nentonia was on the ground, holding the railings for dear life. “What on earth is she doing?” he thought.

Approaching her, he heard the sounds of her groaning and breathing. A vaguely familiar scene. Was it seasickness?

“You gonna die?” he asked.

“...Oh, hello, leader.”

“I told you not to call me that.”

“Sorry, I forgot,” she said, clearly lying. “Then, can I call you Kal, like Rem does?”

“...No,” he replied. Somehow, he didn’t feel very good about himself in that moment. “And when did you get close enough to the halfling that you’re using nicknames now?”

Nentonia laughed. “You could at least use their names. You clearly remember them, don’t you?”

Kalaman didn’t reply. It was bothersome to answer that, considering she wouldn’t change his mind anytime soon. A bit of pride snuck in there, too. “If you weren’t good with ships, you should have said so.”

“Did you know I easily get seasick?”

“What?” Kalaman looked at her with genuine confusion. “No. Why would I?”

“Well, considering this is my first time on a ship, we’re on the same boat. Haha.” She tried to make a joke, but it seemed that her stomach was much too upset for her to enjoy it.

“Aren’t you a cleric? Just heal your stomachache away.”

“...For an experienced hero, you sure are ignorant of how clerics work. I heal wounds, not seasickness.”

“Hm. I’m not a cleric, so of course I wouldn’t know.”

“Heh. You want me to teach you, then?” She looked at him with playful eyes. It would’ve looked a bit cute if her expression wasn’t strained and green.

Kalaman sighed. “Go back to your room and sleep. It’ll wear off before long.”

“It’ll come back the moment I wake up, though.”

“You’ll get used to it.”

The two of them were silent for a bit, listening to the waves crashing against the ship’s hull. The occasional seagull would pass by, their cries adding a bit of variety to the sounds.

“Hey, tell me a story,” Nentonia suddenly asked.

“What?”

“You’re a hero, right? They usually write stories about heroes in books. I’ve never read a story about you, though.”

“There are none.”

“Does that mean I get to hear a hero’s story that’s never been written before?”

“No. Stop asking.”

“Aw. I thought you’d be fun, but you’re not.”

“Sorry to disappoint.”

“No you’re not.”

Another brief pause.

“You sure you don’t have any stories to tell? Like, from your adventures?” she asked.

“No.”

“Not buying it. How about this, then! Why do they call you the Dragonslayer?”

Images flashed in Kalaman’s head. A dark cave. Three bodies, lying motionless on the ground. A boy that went in that cave and never came back out.

“...Beats me.”

“There has to be something, right?”

“You’re starting to get on my nerves. Stop asking.”

Kalaman’s voice became forceful. Whenever he lowered his voice, people usually jumped, or otherwise backed away. It was a useful tactic to get annoying people to leave him alone.

But Nentonia simply acted the same.

“Boring. Killjoy. You could have at least humored me so that this stomachache would be a bit more bearable.”

“Then go to sleep already.”

“But that’s boring, too. At the very least, poking at you and playing around seems a bit more fun. You don’t mind, right?”

“If I do, would you stop?”

“What do you think?” she smiled at him. She did look like she was genuinely having fun.

Kalaman clicked his tongue.

“’Then don’t ask’, right?” she said, mimicking his voice.

“Shut it.”

The two of them stayed there for a while, staring at the slowly receding land, talking about nothing of value. He forgot how long it’s been since he had a conversation this long with someone.

The ocean was pretty blue today.