The Stormfalcon crawled to the island’s mossed but cemented dock with the settled waves, and its shattered mast and the ripped sail stayed behind with the passing storm. The squall and the turbulent waters thrashed it around but barely a dent remained of their rampage; the Warship’s build was for the war after all. Even without its protective barrier and any maintenance for ages, it still held its own against the threats.
Stefan dropped the anchor, Kidd and Lance stayed on orange alert, and Ewan disembarked to meet the Step-1 Asheva who welcomed them on the port—a stocky middle-aged man holding a wooden staff of his height, and streaks of ashen-gray running through his well-combed hair and beard.
“Thank you for allowing us to dock,” Ewan said and shook his hand with a firm grip, and the man returned the gesture. “I’m Ewan Ayres.”
“Nice to meet you, I’m Gustin Vern. My family owns Vestal, and I’m the current mayor of the island,” the man said with a smile, his overgrown beard and mustache covering his lips. “We haven’t had any visitors for some time now, you’re certainly a sight for sore eyes.”
Ewan laughed. “Your island was an oasis for us too. We were off on some tasks, but we ran into problems, our Rigen has emptied out now,” he said.
“You really have a classic there, Nightingale series, they don’t make it like that anymore,” Gustin said, glancing at the Stormfalcon. “We would be happy to provide you with supplies and fuel, but you might have to wait for some time for the latter. Our Rigen station is out of stock, and with the hub down and the situation with the sun, the resupply transport might be delayed.”
“May I know how long it will take?” Ewan asked.
“We received the status report yesterday only, it shouldn’t take them more than a month to get here,” Gustin said. “You’re more than welcome to stay here till then, our town has the best inns to serve you all. And if you want, I can expedite your purchase of any materials you need. You can also hire laborers to repair the ship, but you might have to get a translator. Most of the people in Vestal speak a mix of common tongue and Kaaleria.”
“I appreciate the offer. I’ll talk to my men and get back to you,” Ewan said. A month of delay for the Rigen was well within his limits. Because with the lack of information and its sources shut down, Vestal was his only option. Even if he wanted to hurry and reach Nana as soon as he could, mindless haste would only present him with the worst possible outcome.
And so, the four men talked and discussed, and Vestal became their address for the next month. But just to be on the safe side, they remained on the Stormfalcon instead of finding an inn.
…..
When the sun came out, the Kyrons hid in their homes, and Vestal quietened as if it were the zero hours. The uptime and downtime of average men flipped around, and the abrupt nights became their active part of the day.
Ewan obliged the change and visited the businesses on their terms with the guide that Gustin left to them, dismissing the inconvenience of random hours.
The town held the rustic look of the early development, where the blend of ancient and contemporary struck a balance. The streetlamps lit the lanes, but the alleys remained dingy, and the pairs of crimson eyes stared out of the dark. The paved road met the mud and the street stalls busied about on both. And the towering forge of the blacksmith belched fire out of its chimney with a clang of the hammer.
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Ewan, Stefan, and Lance followed the guide around the Vestal’s market, buying what they needed, the Stormfalcon’s supplies being their priority, while Kidd guarded the ship. And Ewan’s already wrinkled coins pouch shriveled even more—the disruption of the hub froze most of his assets, he couldn’t use what he owned, and what he physically carried showed signs of emptying out.
Gustin also offered to introduce some well named workers for the ship’s repairs and maintenance, but Ewan politely refused. With the Nightingale down, the security on its core was non-existent, he couldn’t let a stranger near it in its current state—even Lance had to stay away from the bridge. Thus, the burden of repairs fell on the three, mainly Stefan, whose hands dealt with metals and wood on a daily basis.
The supplies trickled in within hours, the carriages lined up before the Stormfalcon, and they got to work. When Ewan and Kidd assisted Stefan in repairing the insides, Lance hunkered down on the top deck, and when they rested, Kidd went into the town to do what he did best—to listen for the drunken whispers.
The dawn broke the long wintry night, and the four gathered in the lounge for food as the town slipped into silence, flickering lanterns lighting up the hall.
“Insides are almost done, we just need to replace the lights and the glasses now,” Stefan said, slurping his stew. “We should move on to the outer shell soon, and the thrusters also need some maintenance.”
“How big of a hole in my wallet are we talking?” Ewan asked.
“We can make do with what we have, there wouldn’t be any additional cost if we do everything ourselves,” Stefan said.
Ewan sighed. “I have just enough for the fuel now, we can't use that,” he said, and tapped his spoon. “Let’s cut down on expensive food, we’ll only eat what cost Creliths from now on or what we hunt ourselves.”
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Status: Healthy
Step-1 Severynth [Spirit-Nebula: Zeroth Surge]
Subtype: Step-0 Elementalist
Name: Ewan Ayres
Species: Human
Vitality: 7.0
Spirit: 25.3
Anima: [Fire – 25.3 | Ice – 25.3 | Blood – 25.3 | Mystic: 25.3]
Astylinds: 4 [Potential: 1]
Rolling Cat [Toast]: Step-1 Severynth [Spirit-Nebula: Zeroth Surge]
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Fire Monkey [Orange]: Step-1 [Level-10] [Grade-B]
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Imp [Frost]: Step-1 [Level-10] [Grade-B]
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Bloodthorn-Lotus [Iris]: Step-1 [Level-10] [Grade-D]
Equipment: Common Clothes; Yurn [Neck Gaiter]; Moonkeeper [Crystal-Ball]; Rainwarden [Staff]; Blackfeather [Overcoat].
Storage: Journal; Elementalist—The Path of Anima [Subtype-Book]; Spellbook; Bloodlust [Spell]; Transmute [Spell]; Unknown Book [Radon’s Legacy]; Anima-Crystals [Novas Coins]; Hub-Connector; Ingredients.
Novas: 26,145
Crelith: 1,014