The next day
The She-Elf woke up, still not used to the fact that there are no maids ready to wake her up with an already prepared bath, which is the only thing she can complain about here. Still, better to not have a bath and have the tranquility this place offers than to have a bath and all the headaches that came after she left her personal chambers. She got up from her bed and immediately started dressing in clothes appropriate for sailing. Although Fynsell can technically use a gown on the ship, it's not a practical choice since she has to be prepared if conflict arises.
No one can fight in a dress, much less her.
So, she fastened the brass buttons of her fitted jacket, its tailored lines accentuating the curves in her slender frame. Beneath the jacket, a high-collared blouse of crisp linen embraced her throat, a reminder of the refinement of her position, even way away from home. Her trousers, tailored to perfection, hugged her legs with a subtle grace, their sturdy fabric promising to be also reliable when fighting was inevitable. As she pulled on her knee-high boots, their polished leather gleaming in the dim light of the room, she felt a sense of groundedness settle over her. It's necessary, since the boots needed the highest amount of grip possible on the ship. With a final flourish, she draped a scarf around her neck, its vibrant blue hues a testament that she still is a Nyëthilhand, despite being not as liked as the rest of the family.
What was missing was a hat, but oh well, can't have everything. Besides, she is already incredibly beautiful on her own, even by Elf standards. She dressed for efficiency and still managed to be elegant and seductive. Maybe a less skin-tight pants next time. Maybe.
Fynsell left the room, packing up her stuff and going down the stairs to the local cafe inside the inn. Despite not being nearly as glamorous as the ones in Shadehill, she couldn't care less about it since both food and atmosphere are top notch. Or maybe she is just too used to being watched with second thoughts that this place, where she is just idolized, even just because of her species, made everything taste better. The fact she isn't experiencing the constant mental threat of shaming her family made her smile while waiting for a waiter to attend her.
She ordered the usual, meat, rice and veggies with a big cup of wine. She didn't care that they didn't have a glass to serve the wine, she only cared that her hunger was satisfied and her thirst quenched. After a few minutes, Jay’Ky Latoor appeared and joined the table, asking about the same thing, just swapping the wine for beer.
“You are quite happy ever since we left Edhelraen.”, Jay pointed out with a smug smile.
“Oh, you would too.”, Fynsell smiled as she took a bite of meat, “Honestly, no one can have good mental health while being the black sheep of the House. I honestly don't know how my father can deal with this.”
“Count Galadar is tougher than he shows.”, Jay drinked his beer, “And that's coming from a Magna.”
The Elf noticed that comment. Magnas recognize efficiency and resilience more than anything, thanks to their work culture. Effort was more recognized than actual merits, unless the merit itself required ungodly amounts of effort. She didn't know the specifics, but that's a great compliment coming from her Guard.
She smiled at Jay, “That he is.”
“Regardless, what are we going to do?”
“What do you mean?”
“About the crystal.”, He whispered dramatically, “I mean, isn't that like, fuel to magic as a whole?”
“You are lucky people here doesn't understand Elvish.”, She said with a frown, looking around the cafe, “But yes, that is correct. We can't do more than just regularly inspect the crystal in order to ensure it is still there.”
The Draconic Iridium is a crystal where magic comes from. Éter is a finite resource, and the only way to recharge is with a crystal, either by paying someone to allow you to recharge or having one yourself. Essentially, these crystals can dictate how strong a nation is, either politically or militarily. If it is a undocumented crystal, which is the best case scenario, all Shadehill needed to do is to document it as Recently Discovered and everything is alright for everyone, both short term and mid term.
If for some insane reason the crystal is a stolen one…
She can only hope it is a legit one.
“So, guard duty to a stone.”, Jay mocked.
“A stone that can start wars, genocide, tragedy, betrayals… Yes, just guard duty.”, Fynsell replied sarcastically.
“I'm just saying.”
“Say less, drink more. We have a long way ahead of us.”, Fynsell said as she drank more wine.
----------------------------------------
If the future looked more like an enticing adventure for Fynsell, at least for the time being, for Connor, things didn't look so good.
The Wood Elf was bored.
Not just bored because he again needed to do paperwork, but also because having a leg that can't walk isn't exactly the most desirable thing. He can only imagine how it will be when the ship sails away to the sea, constantly wobbling from side to side while also giving him nausea, thanks to sea sickness. According to Grandpa Jack, marines were usually drafted by their first ship ride and if they didn't puke for the first few hours, they could join the naval forces without trouble. Of course, that doesn't mean Connor will be fine on the ship, but it's not like he can ask for a plane and fly all the way to Edhelraen. They wouldn't even know what a plane is.
While doing his paperwork, Connor was also asked to do reports for soldiers of Eldora, using these weird runed tablets made of iron or metal. Either or. The tablets have these runes that, for the lack of better description, work just like a single line phone, as in the tablets can only call the other tablet the rune was compatible at the time of creating it. Just a few soldiers had these tablets so it was a relatively easier job compared to telemarketing.
Connor shivered at the name.
“Yeah, no.”
He looked at the crates, cardboard boxes and cabinets that filled the office room he was set in. Thankfully, the Healer that constantly checked his leg had the empathy, or perhaps pity, to help the Elf with the unmeasurable amount of work to be done. Most of these were checklists, accountability books, storage reports, Identification Charts and other average documents a prefecture is supposed to handle. If Connor had applied for a civil service exam, he would probably be doing the exact same job he does here. His respect for civil servants has increased severely, as he himself wanted to bang his head against the wall out of sheer boredom.
On the other hand, Yuri and Zagul were doing service work with the local soldiers, whether it was weeding, paving some streets, collecting garbage, feeding merchants' horses... Lame and quick work to be done, as they would sail shortly after the beginning of the afternoon. Zagul was internally grateful for the lighter work, as it had only been a month since he fought against Connor and his wounds had not yet fully healed, despite Yuri asking a Healer to check on his recovery progress. The duo finally came to the Harbor after a few hours of work.
“Hey Henry, have you heard the gossip about us getting an Elf to sail with us to Edhelraen?”, Yuri said as he took the sweat off his forehead.
“Rumors?”, The Lacerta asked in minor curiosity.
“Yeah, word is she'll be keeping a tight watch on the ship to ensure the delivery goes smoothly and safely, or something like that.”, The Human scoffed amusingly, “Like Eldora will want to lose one client.”
“Whatever she does is not our business”, Zagul reminded, “I don't want to get myself in trouble with Richardson just because she felt insulted in any way, shape or form.”
“Yeah, I get what you're saying.”, Yuri nodded, “It's just kinda strange that one of those Elf folks decided to come all this way. I mean, last I heard, they never left the Vyzar Continent.”
“True, but then again, not our business.”, He reinforced his point, “Besides, if I can avoid her for the entire way there, I will pray to all Gods in thankfulness.”
“No exceptions?”
Henry thought with his hand on his chin, “Yeah, maybe some exceptions.”
“Anyway, we gotta hook Connor up with those new clothes, man. It's autumn already, and the weather's no joke, especially out on the open sea. The sun's scorching during the day, and you're freezing your butt off at night.”, Yuri changed the subject with a worried tone. A tone similar to a worried friend that another person will catch a cold.
“There are new clothes?”
Zagul looked at himself, who was using pants made of rags and a shirt that was probably stolen from a grave or crypt. He was barefoot most of the time unless a job required him to use some kind of shoe or boot. Besides that, naked feet on the burning pavement.
“Yeah, but for slaves. We ain't getting more than this.”, Yuri showed a box with clothes.
Loose-fitting shirts, what looked to be trousers or breeches, some sturdy boots to walk on the ship's deck, a jacket with the symbol of slaves and neckerchiefs, which Zagul was not going to use.
“Average sailor outfit.”, Zagul muttered, “And everyone else that isn't a slave will have more sophisticated and expensive clothes.”
“Yeah. Better than nothing to be honest.”, Yuri replied evenly.
They started walking towards the office Connor was in. The Harbor was filled with merchants securing passage on the deadline day, fishermen celebrating their “biggest hunt”, average citizens buying fish and other people minding their own business.
“You think Connor is alright?”, Henry asked out of the blue.
“Why do you ask?”
“When I said those things to him after the fucker thanked to be a slave,”, Zagul remembered in anger, “he seemed to be… relating to what I said, at least to a minor degree.”
“Oh, yeah. That banter you had.”, Yuri remembered. He corrected his posture to not let the box fall to the ground, “Hey Zagul, let me level with you. Connor? Yeah, he's a bit of a puzzle, especially after Koloss. But honestly, comparing him then to now? He's doing great, way better, I think. You feeling anxious about something?”
“You could say that. I was the reason why he related to some of the things I said. And yet he… Never really confronted me about it.”, Henry said this with a confused sad face, “I feel like there is something missing.”
“Dude, why don't you just go talk to him?”, Yuri raised a brow, “We will be sailing in the same boat for at least a month or two. Give it a shot.”
“I'll think about it.”
They arrived at the building near the end of the Harbor. They entered the building and we're met with some stares but we're quickly ignored afterwards. After some questions and some searching, they arrived at the room, where Connor was currently occupied with a call from the Tablets, so the both of them just waited as the Wood Elf recognized their presence. The Healer was there too, but he was writing stuff on a piece of paper, so he paid no mind to them.
“What can I help you with?”, Connor asked in his trained telemarketing voice. All thanks to Hughes.
“Yeah, uhh, I am with this guy here. He doesn't seem to speak Petruvian that well. We need to identify him.”, The guard said from the other side of the line, already tired.
Henry and Yuri didn't know what was said, but apparently from the voice tone, it was a routine thing. Maybe not.
“I assume he doesn't have an identification card or something similar?”, He said as he started searching for the box with the files of ID.
“Hey, do you have an ID? I-d-e-n-t-i-f-i-c-t-i-o-n? Your name?, There was a pause of a few seconds, “He said his name is uuh, Sahytara, or something like that? His accent makes it really hard to understand.”
Connor was already looking at the file that had a big “S” written in it, looking for a name similar (hopefully the same name), “Found it. He is a foreigner of Eldora, but not Petruvia.”, He said as he looked further on the report.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
“Well, what do I do?”
“Ask which country he came from. It's rather unusual to see a foreigner when no immigration is allowed, thanks to the festival and all.”, Connor said as he leaned on his chair.
“Hey, you. Where do you come from? White Shell? Don't you have a home? H-o-m-e? Granits? He says he is from Granits. What do I do now?”
“Granits?”, Connor asked aloud, confused, surprised even, “Hold on a second.”
The Healer who was quietly scribbling in the papers raised his head at the mention of Granits, “Is it a citizen of Granits? What clothes is he wearing?”
Connor turned to the tablet, “Is this Sahytara guy in formal wear?”
“I mean, yeah, kinda.”, The guard said as he analyzed the person.
Connor did a thumbs up and the Healer quickly wrote a note saying “REUNION WITH RICHARDSON” in it, every letter capitalized.
“I assume this is the guy that Boss Richardson was supposed to meet.”, Connor said offhandedly.
“Richardson? Oh, this guy here recognized the name. Should I escort him to the Harbor?”
“Please do.”, Connor said with a sigh.
He wondered how the soldiers even became soldiers.
“Alright. That's all.”
The rune’s light on the tablet diminished until they turned off, a signal that told him the call was done.
“This job is SO. BORING.” Connor progressively raised his voice in exasperation.
“I know.”, The Healer related.
“You done?”, Henry asked, rather impatient.
“Yeah.”
“Good, because we need to go to the ship.”
“I'll say the guy from Granits is arriving”, The healer said, “You can go on to the ship. I'll set things up from here.”
The trio left the office and walked to the ship, with Connor using his cane all the way. The salty smell of the sea never felt pleasant for the Wood Elf, but he better get used to it since he will spend a long time at sea.
“By the way, what's the box for?”, He asked after a few seconds of Yuri carrying the thing.
“Oh, I forgot.”, He put the box on the ground, “These are the clothes they gave us to not burn or freeze at sea.”
“Don't expect much.”, Zagul warned.
Connor gave a glance inside the box, “This is the most average sailor clothes I've ever seen.”
“Yeah.” The two of them said.
“Better than nothing.” Hughes said, not that anyone aside from Connor could hear.
“What ship are we going in?”, The Wood Elf asked.
“I guess, we're not hopping on a schooner 'cause it's too tiny, or a Frigate 'cause it's way too big and would drag out the whole sailing thing. I reckon we're gonna roll with a tweaked brigantine to haul both the cargo and the weapons.”, Yuri explained as he grabbed the box and started walking towards the ship.
“I didn't know you knew all that about ships.”, Zagul inquired, rather surprised.
“Bro, when you fight all the fights I did, you learn stuff you wouldn't even think you needed.”, He said in a smug way.
“And why would we need ship knowledge?”, Connor said.
“Well,”, Yuri thought in a grimace, trying to find a way to answer the question, “So, like, ya know those bags hanging off the side of the ship?”
Connor looked at a small fishing ship, “Yeah, what about them?”
The bags were tied with ropes on the side of the ship. He never really questioned too much since every movie had these bags hanging around the ships in them.
“Those things are called ballasts. They're filled with sand or rocks, sometimes both, to keep the ship steady in rough seas. Super handy when the waves are going nuts. If the ship's swaying too much, you can bet some of those bags are gone.”, He explained, much like a professor would.
“The more you know.”, Zagul muttered.
“Dude, there's a ton more to know, like how the hull does its thing, what type of ship it is, who's on the crew, who's the captain and quartermaster, how to handle the sails, where the cargo's stashed, where the cannons are if we gotta fend off pirates…”, He catches his breath, “I could keep going. But the deal is, the more you know, the better you can handle surprises.”
Connor nodded. This might be just some cliche advice, but it's the truth. If you don't go out of your way in order to understand what is happening around you, you are going to meet the mat way quicker. Of course, it's hypocritical of him to admit it since he took his time to understand this, somewhat, but now that he does, he can't shake the feeling that, yeah, he doesn't know shit.
Better admit ignorance and learn than faking knowledge.
“I believe this is the brigantine.”, Zagul commented.
“It's huuuuuge.”, Connor gazed at the ship.
As Connor approaches the ship, the first thing he notices is the sheer size of the brigantine compared to the other boats around it. Its masts tower above the docks, reaching towards the sky like ancient trees. The hull is sleek and imposing, painted a deep shade of blue that glistens in the sunlight. From a distance, it looks like a majestic creature resting on the calm waters of the harbor, ready to set sail on a grand adventure. He can see the intricate details of the rigging and sails, which are neatly folded and secured against the mast. The deck is spacious, with various ropes, pulleys, and other nautical equipment scattered about. It's a sight to behold, unlike anything he's ever seen before.
“Huge?”, Yuri cuts Connor's thoughts, “This is a medium-sized ship.”
“This is a standard ship?!”, He asked in disbelief, “What the fuck?!?!”
“Connor, shut up and let's get changed already.”, Zagul frowned, “I kind of don't want o to use rags now that I have the opportunity to use actual clothes.”
The Elf didn't listen as he was still mesmerized by the ship.
----------------------------------------
Fynsell walked on the streets towards the Harbor alongside Jay, who wasn't using his typical armor. Ever since they left Edhelraen the Magna switched to a leather full armor, useful for fast paced combat. The only downside is that when the sun shines the brightest, he is basically a walking stove for how hot it becomes inside it. Thankfully the Magna are naturally more resistant to hot weather so Jay isn't bothered by it too much.
The duo attracted a lot of gazes towards them, since for the standard of beauty they are over the charts, but that's everything that truly happened. Not a single person, not even the medium and higher strata of Eldora dared to cross paths with the True Elf, a fact that didn't go unnoticed. Fynsell grinned at this, the simple intoxicating feeling of being feared, of finally being on top of others with no one to ridicule her. It sure made her day all the more endearing.
Suddenly she heard a few steps closer than usual. Well, “usual” around Eldora. It was an Agere, a race not usually seen around… anywhere. The Agere is of tan skin, almost like a chocolate tone, his body is filled with lines tattooed in his body, or from the exposed skin at least, thanks to the uniform he is using. His hair, a shade of gray that she can't really pinpoint, but at least the eyes were of a golden hue, maybe a dark yellow.
The Agere adorned a military uniform of Granits, featuring a blend of black and blue colors to reflect the national flag in his shoulder. The uniform includes a black jacket with blue accents, adorned with gold or silver insignia representing rank and affiliation. The trousers are black, with blue stripes along the sides, with black boots to accompany. Overall, the design conveys a sense of authority and discipline, fitting for the military government the Country is passing right now.
He was being escorted to the same direction as them by an Eldora soldier who, from the looks of it, didn't really recognize the diplomatic MENACE that is the man right next to him. Not her problem anyway, since she doesn't have anything to do with it. It was actually amusing seeing the Agere be very patient towards the soldier but still allow some frustrating sighs to escape.
“This is the Harbor, mister Sahytara. Whoever you are.”, The soldier pointed towards the brigantine, the same ship Fynsell is supposed to be going in.
Fynsell noticed how they put the sails of House Nyëthilhand on it, but kept the flag of Eldora. If this is the case then there will be other smaller ships to accompany them on their sail towards Vyzar, unless the Captain is stupid and is putting a big target saying “Hey! We have money!” to everyone else. However, Richardson, from the information she knows, never under-delivered, so this might be his thing.
“(I just want to see Richardson, you stupid guard. I don't wanna see the ship.)”, The Agere, or rather, Sahytara, groaned annoyed.
Fynsell understood immediately the language. He was speaking Tucnish, a specific language that a few countries in the High Strata speak. She only found it weird that this Sahytara sir solely spoke in Tucnish.
“(You wish to speak with Richardson?)”, She asked, surprising the Agere.
“(Yes I do. You know Tucnish? I haven't heard of someone outside of Motherland speaking it.)”, He said with respect.
His body language shouted discipline and experience. Maybe this man is older than he looks. Granted that every non human race looks younger than they are, but still.
“What? You two speak the same language?”, Jay asked. The guard could only watch as the foreign language continued, but was glad that he wasn't the only one thinking this exact same thing.
“I learned it 16 years ago, so we don't use it that much.”, Fynsell explained while looking at her guard, “We used to speak Tucnish to hide our conversations in public, but all nobles and merchants speak it, so it's not that useful anymore.”, She shrugged in a mocking manner.
“A code that everyone knows can be called a code?”
The True Elf ignored the question and refocused on Sahytara, “(He is probably in the Captain’s Office. I am also to meet him there, so we can go together, if you wish.)”
She didn't offer out of kindness, it was just because she was intrigued with the Agere and the reason why he's there.
“(I'd appreciate it.)”
They entered the ship and immediately the crew inside moved out the way of the Granits Official and True Elf. Fynsell needed to hide her smile with a cough, suppressing her true emotions. The Deck was filled with either slaves or crewmates doing the finishing touches before truly sailing away while some other people in different, yet overall the same attire, did the logistics, checking the cargo and food. The Captain's Office is just below the helm of the ship, so it was quite fast to reach it.
“[Jay, can I ask you something?]”, The woman said after they stepped on the deck.
“[Sure, my Lady.]”
“[Why is everyone else's skin a darker shade than mine, even though our races are fundamentally the same?]”
Jay could only thank her for asking it in Elvish. Then again, no one would really do anything to her, but better be safe than sorry.
“[Well, they work under the sun from sunrise to sunset. The melamine levels of their skin are higher than yours, My Lady, since you don't work under sunlight.]”, He explained patiently and carefully.
If Fynsell had a comment to share, she kept it to herself.
Upon entering the Office, they arrived while a conversation was going on.
“—of course. I was in need of a quartermaster to be honest. But why you, Mr. Richardson?”, A man, probably the Captain, asked the Foreman.
“I am to perform two deeds, one I am not allowed to discuss per Lord Gazeff’s request. The other, however, it's because I am going to do some business in Vyzar, to put it simply.”, Richardson said with a smile, one that Fynsell recognized.
The merchant smile.
He truly is a Foreman.
Things after that ran out smoothly. Fynsell just waited for the chat with the Captain and the Granits Official to finish before she could address the topic of the Draconic Iridium with Richardson. After she secured the location and confirmed its existence, she can safely enjoy the rest of her freedom-ish vacation—
“This is a standard ship?! What the fuck?!?!”
This scream perked her attention from the suddenness of it. When she looked through the officer's window, Fynsell simply gasped in shock, refusing to believe what she saw.
“Do my eyes deceive me?”
Jay also looked at the window, but found it weird that his lady overreacted to… something.
“[My Lady? Are you feeling well?]”, The Magna asked, worried at the surprised face made, which was rather unusual to see.
“[I am…]”, She managed to recompose, “[But I've never thought I'd see a Wood Elf.]”
Before Jay’Ky could ask what a wood elf is, the Granits Official and the ship's captain left the office, leaving the three of them there.
“I believe you have something you'd like to discuss, right?”, Richardson asked with a small smile, yet still visible.
“Yes, of course.”
----------------------------------------
Connor immediately felt the sickness of the sea and he didn't even leave the Harbor. In fact, the ship wasn't even leaving, since he just stepped on the deck. However his leg was feeling the waves hitting the hull, making the ship, even if slightly, wobble a bit. He was about to go down the stairs in this precarious situation, but something didn't feel right.
Then the shivers came with the goosebumps.
Then fear.
He looked at the origins of this feeling of dread and death. The feeling of fear overwhelmed him, like a weight pressing down on his chest, a blade piercing his skull, his lungs suddenly making it hard to breathe. Connor's heart races, pounding in his ears, and every instinct tells him to flee or hide. Even Hughes felt incredibly silent all of a sudden. It's as if time slows down, trapped in a moment of pure dread, unable to move or think clearly. His body trembles, muscles tense, as if preparing for an imminent threat. The mind races with worst-case scenarios, and even the smallest noises or movements can send shivers down his spine. It's a primal response, an instinctual reaction to perceived danger, and in that moment, rational thought can feel distant and unreachable.
And all of that was caused by the mere presence of a man in military uniform.
Connor looked at the tan skinned man, unable to move on his own. The man was rather amused by the gaze of the Wood Elf, questioning mentally if there was something wrong with him. Whatever it was, it was not his business since he already did what he came here to do. The Elf could very well feel whatever he is feeling, nothing would matter, especially with the slave runes in his neck. He spoke something in his language, not that Connor paid attention or could understand what he spoke.
Then, he left the ship.
“What. The-Fuck. Was that.”, Connor thought.
“Something we shouldn't involve ourselves with, Lad.”
Connor agreed. For now he is just going to change clothes, taking careful steps, one at a time to save his leg from the pain. The sweat of his forehead touched his lips, leaving a salty and dirty taste in it, probably the sweat of the unrelenting fear he felt before. This dread, it doesn't even compare to what he felt ever before, a feeling of pure loss and defeat. Is this like a sixth sense type of shit?
As he entered a room that had some wood bunk beds, he was about to change to actual clothes when he saw someone very familiar sitting in one of them.
Connor spoke, barely making out who it was, “Donovan?”
The Father turned to face who called him, his face full of bruises that Connor was absolutely sure it wasn't him who caused them.
“Hello, Connor.”, Donovan said, his voice rough like a cough.