Eris, you stupid, craven, woman. I could forgive your ignorance. I could even forgive your foolish nepotism. But you know full well the damage of your actions, you traitor. I know you sided with the Dynasty, but I could never think you would go to such lengths to please your lich overlords. You’ve made Aris a fishbowl for the entirety of Cazoran to spy on. Alaric is your son, damn it. How could you let them bind his soul, using him like a puppet. You best pray that he doesn’t turn whilst I still live.
– Elara Twice, Sealed Letter to Eris
Chapter 18 – Fishbowl Escapade
“Hahahaaaha. Ha. Haha.” Sushi Sam's laughter reverberated off the glass wall of his aqueous prison, a sound that danced with mockery in the brightly lit chamber. “Do you. Even know. Who I am?”
“No… Should I?” In the center of the aquarium exhibit, floated a human-sized captive goldfish, now tightly bound with some 6-die-roll-[Bag of Tricks] rope.
Sam stood face-to-face—or rather, face-to-floating-face—with the Kanga Aquarium night manager and keeper of the keys to Sam's current predicament. It was after-hours, of course, and the water filled world outside was dark and silent.
"Tell me, manager," Sam quipped, a serious twinkle lighting up his piercing blue eyes, "how do you sleep at night, knowing you've shackled these innocent creatures here? Do their silent pleas for freedom not weigh on your conscience? How could you do this barbaric disservice to all sentience, itself. You monster. Parading this poor cervidian in front of the masses. How cruel."
The goldfish, suspended in mid-air hovered at eye level with Sam, rolled his eyes, a gesture that seemed to ripple through the water bowl encasing the goldfish’s face and gills. The manager appeared more irritated by the inconvenience than frightened by Sam’s kidnapping or ashamed by his tirade.
“I’ve seen the most disgusting of creatures across Cazoran. True heathens! Kingpins of a generation! They would never. And I mean never resort to this sort of slavery. How cruel, how unjust!”
"If you would just let—,"
Sam slapped the fishbowl and sent the floating fish swirling around the coral-anchored rope below.
“I can’t even look at you.” Sam turned and continued his monologue, hiding the pain on his face from a surge of the solar kraken brand’s power. “This world, so corrupt. I cannot bear to leave it so. I will change it. I…,” he wiped a fake tear, “I’ll free you from your chains, too, manager.”
“Sam, bro. This isn’t goin’ to work. I’ve escaped this cage 821 times. Kanga’s a fuckin’ scary-ass guy. Just wait until you build up enough karma, bro.” Sam’s cervidian cellmate called out from the surprisingly comfy coral furniture, enjoying a Charlaine procedural about snailmermaid detectives on the manatech screen. The room, despite being a cage, was well manicured.
“Kanga’s on a business trip today, but when he gets back… ohh he’ll be angry. Besides, what I was trying to say… ahm… I'm here to release you from this stage-two confinement cell, not to debate ethics. Just let me go, mate, it’s my first day. I’ll arrange for your escort to the surface."
“You. Uh… what?” Sam’s grin faltered just before it could bloom into victory. "You’re here to… uh… release me?”
“Yeah, why else would I step into this cage?” He shivered and motioned a free fin toward the cervidian. Jaxon the cervidian.
“Oh… well. In that case. Let me get you down from there, ol’ chap. Have I told you, I know a friend who is an aquarium manager, nicest guy you’ll ever meet.” Sam started to undo the rope.
Suddenly, Jaxon emerged from his reef sectional. His antlers were cut short, but what remained looked like demonic horns. His body was muscular and covered with scars. How a stage-two had so many scars was unfathomable to Sam. Why they haven’t healed is a testament to the torture he’s endured.
With a swift motion, Jaxon extended his hand, fingers splayed, and crimson tendrils snaked out from his palms. They wound around Sam's limbs binding him as easily as Sam had bound the manager. Not again. I shouldn’t have wished for a shark tank.
"Uh, Jaxon, I think you got the wrong person?" Sam gasped, feigning ignorance while the blood-ties drew taut, pressing him against Azelar's bubble helmet with a dull thud. Jaxon was stage-two and Sam knew he had no chance to break free from this Dao-Bound ability.
“You really have to believe me. I would never leave you hanging. This was all a ruse, you see.”
The blood tendrils thickened and solidified.
The cavernous room filled with an eerie silence, punctuated only by the subtle thrum of distant machinery. Ensnared alongside the manager, Sam contemplated their absurd entanglement. He couldn't help but marvel at the irony of it all. Here he was, tied up next to a goldfish who had come to set him free, at the mercy of his ‘bro,’ Jaxon.
"Quite the dramatic flair, Jaxon—just get me down from here and we can take a stroll outside." Sam chuckled, the sound hollow.
"Save your breath, bro," Jaxon sneered, the gray in his eyes mirroring the steel of his disposition. "You'll need it for when we really start having fun outside."
Sam's features remained composed, a mask of nonchalance concealing the cogs turning behind his facade. I can’t swim. Fuck. “Wait, Jaxon. Be reasonable. I can’t swim. Bro? Bro!”
Jaxon hoisted the pair over his broad shoulders, and with a practiced ease, motioned the manager’s eyes to the manatech retina scanner. A hidden door along the white wall opened up after a series of beeps.
The bright corridors of the aquarium echoed with the muffled protests of its unwilling passengers, as Jaxon navigated the labyrinthine passages using the manager’s eye when necessary.
A great sigh escaped from the manager.
"So, manager, what’s your name?" Sam quipped, dangling upside down with an undignified grunt, his tailored suit crumpling against the cervidian's back.
"I am Azelar Valdeboi, third of my name," the goldfish retorted, his voice muffled by the proximity to Jaxon's muscular shoulder.
"Well, Azelar, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Though, I’d rather have preferred it under different circumstances." Sam crooned, his tone dripping with mock sympathy.
“Mate, I feel for you. Apparently, the boss won’t kill this one, even after all the trouble.” Azelar pointed at Jaxon. “Not sure what he’ll do to a mortal, though.”
Sam’s smile froze. “Heh. Well… I might take issue to that. Jaxon! Jaxon? Let’s go back. I think it was pretty comfy back there. No need for freedom. Who needs freedom? We can watch Law and Coral. I heard McCoy went off the deep end. I know you have to know what happens.”
"Quiet!" Jaxon barked, his voice echoing through the sterile hallway. “McCoy’s dead to me.”
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.
A minute passed in silence as Jaxon moved through the white hallways between exhibits with precision.
“Why did you even come inside the cage, Azelar?”
“Uhh. It’s kinda a rite of passage. Get caught by the big scary cervid. Take some torture. He’s harmless – probably knows the entire layout of the aquarium by now. Has even made it off planet a few times. Kanga’ll get him—he doesn’t know how to fly a shuttle.”
Is this a trap? Why would he come inside when Kanga isn’t here? Sushi Sam's thoughts, adrift in the throes of discomfort and indignation, were cast aside when his brand flared to life, wracking pain through his body again.
"Hey, uh, Azelar," Sam began, voice low and sly, "you wouldn’t happen to know where this place keeps its... treasures, would you?" An edge of pain underlined his jest.
Azelar's gaze flickered with an avaricious gleam that belied his captive state. "I would never betray Lord Kanga. On my name, what do you take me for? I am a loyal goldie. No one would questi—"
"How about 30%?" Sam crooned, the promise of wealth dripping from his words like honey.
“Right this way, not far from here. I do think that it’s the way this big oaf is headed anyways. I didn’t tell him. No, not me. Adjacent to the shuttle bay. That's where they hoard the crystals. He knows that."
Jaxon's stride never faltered, but his ears pricked at the mention of the vault. "Guide us," he commanded, his voice echoing with a cold resolve that reverberated off the walls.
"Left right here. At the next junction, right," instructed Azelar.
Sam looked at the goldfish, a kindred spirit, with a newfound respect.
Jaxon's eyes glinted with a predatory gleam as they approached a fork in the corridor, where two guards clad in lusterless uniforms stood watch. They were two mermen playing cards, oblivious to the danger that lurked just beyond their field of vision, their laughter echoing hollowly off the walls.
The air around Jaxon began to ripple with unseen power, a miasma of malice emanating from his form. With a swift motion, he extended his hands, and tendrils of sanguine energy snaked forward, coiling around the guards like vipers ensnaring their prey.
A gurgle of surprise was all the noise the first guard could muster before the blood magic constricted, putting him to sleep. His companion turned, eyes wide with horror, but it was too late. A second tendril found its mark, and he collapsed beside his comrade.
Sam couldn't help but let out a low whistle, impressed despite himself. "You've got quite the touch, Jaxon. Remind me never to get on your bad side. I’m not on your bad side, am I?"
Jaxon grunted, his gaze scanning the area for more threats before entering the vault room.
The vault, itself, loomed before them, a monolithic door etched with runes that hummed with ancient energy. "This is it," Azelar whispered, his voice tinged with reverence and fear. "Behind this door lies Kanga's hoard. Good luck getting in. It’s enchanted with the fin—”
With a gesture from Jaxon, the door's runes flared to life, pulsing with a darkness that seemed to devour hope. Blood sprayed across the enchantments. Then, as suddenly as they had awakened, they dimmed, and the door swung open with a groan of protest, revealing the trove within. Jaxon was pale from the exertion.
What a unique and useful ability.
Inside, the air was thick with mana. Sam's gaze swept the room, taking in the glittering piles of crystals that beckoned. Jaxon put Sam and Azelar down, releasing Sam’s ropes. Sam in turn released Azelar.
Amid the splendor, one chest stood apart, shrouded in shadows that seemed to writhe and twist. It was a simple chest, but it was shrouded in a dangerous and thick mana. Sam couldn’t help but be drawn to it.
"Wait." Azelar's fin shot out, grasping Sam's back. "I wouldn’t touch that one. Kanga’s been fixated on opening that for centuries—at least that’s what the other goldies tell me."
"Sounds ominous," Sam quipped, though his heart hammered against his ribs. "But we're not here for cursed trinkets, are we? Just the crystals."
Jaxon's gaze lingered on the chest, a smirk playing across his lips. The shadows clung to the ornate carvings like cobwebs, yet they seemed to retreat from the touch of his calloused fingers.
"It’s been too long. Wait for me just a little longer," Jaxon whispered, his voice low and resonant in the charged silence.
Sam watched, his blue eyes narrowing slightly, as Jaxon laid claim to the chest. This is awfully suspicious.
As Jaxon reveled in his reclaimed prize, Sam's attention wavered. A pang of pain, sharp and insistent, thrummed against his chest—a cruel reminder of the brand seared into his flesh. Its throbbing was relentless. In search of relief, Sam's hands fumbled through the piles of mana crystals, their luminescence casting eerie glows upon his desperate features.
Sam selected a crystal pulsing with a deep indigo hue. He pressed it against the brand, and the crystal's glow intensified before disappearing.
With the disappearance of the crystal, the alarm bells of Kanga’s aquarium rang out. Spatial sensor. Shit. The other crystal in the room trembled, responding to an unseen summons. Like iron filings to a magnet, they zipped through the space, swirling in a vortex of arcane power before flying into Sam's chest.
Oh shit! Oh shit!
"By the seven oceans of Charlaine," Azelar gasped, witnessing the spectacle. Even Jaxon, ever the embodiment of control, stepped back, his usual sneer replaced by a look of surprise—or perhaps a hint of envy.
“No. Not all of them. We had a deal. You don’t even need this many!” The brand was ravenous, and paid Sam’s cries no heed, lifting him off the floor and consuming the entire stash of crystals.
Azelar's fins, nimble as the tentacles of an octopus, darted about his person with frantic urgency. Like a scavenger possessed, he snatched at the stray crystals that had resisted Sam's unwitting summons, secreting them into the labyrinthine folds of his voluminous body and even the recesses of his water bowl. His movements were frenzied.
“ALL THE CRYSTALS!? Noo-oo-hohoho.” Azelar sobbed, his golden tears failing to mix with the water in the bowl. “Why! It’s my first day! Mate, at least save me a couple hundred.” His sobs were broken by Jaxon’s slap.
“Pull yourself together, bro. Show us the exit.”
Azelar straightened, rubbing the tender spot where Jaxon's strike had landed. His gaze, momentarily clear from the fog of greed, met Jaxon's steely glare.
Sam groaned as he fell onto the ground. “Sorry about that. Karma’s a bitch.” He looked around the vault for any other treasures, but it was spotless.
"Follow me," Azelar muttered angrily, his voice a sullen growl that belied the resignation etched upon his features. With a swift pivot, he led the way through the maze of corridors, his expression churning with dark thoughts. The alarms blared in the background, but Sam noticed no new guards or security measures. Maybe it’s just a spatial tracking system.
The shuttle bay yawned before them like the gaping maw of some ancient leviathan, a vast cavern of shadows, punctuated by the intermittent flicker of failing lights. Most of the shuttles here were trash models, Sam could tell. A few compact galaxy-cruiser VX-90s. A Hyundai Soopercooler. Engine’s probably bad. And an imitation DMC DeLorean, fit with gull-wing doors and all. Who needs a land vehicle at the bottom of the ocean?
But, amidst this bleak tableau of neglected shuttles, there stood a solitary beacon of hope—a Centurion, model 828 Starbird Expanse. Its sleek lines and polished adamant gleamed faintly in the dim illumination, like a jewel nestled within a trash heap. It was an older model, but even a millenia-old Centurion could outrun a solar kraken.
"Would you look at that," Sam murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. There was a gleam in his eyes. It was a snazzy piece of machinery, its presence wholly incongruous amidst the poorly upkept parking lot. Sams's gaze lingered on the shuttle with a mix of awe and greed.
“Er… we probably shouldn’t use that one. That’s the madam’s.”
It was Sam who moved first. He approached the vessel with reverence. Reaching the shuttle, Sam's hand hovered over the doors, his fingers trembling with anticipation before he pressed the release. The hatch obeyed with a hiss, folding away to reveal the cosmo-gator leather interior—a sanctuary of blinking consoles and cushioned seats that beckoned to him.
Sam clambered into the pilot's seat, his movements fluid despite the tremors that danced along his limbs. He settled into the embrace of the chair, the familiar contours a silent greeting from an old friend. He didn’t even need to see the passenger hold to know it was a luxury star-yacht fit for a stage-three. Karma’s a beautiful bitch.
His fingers flitted across the control panel, a maestro poised to conduct an orchestra. Switches were flicked with deft certainty, each one sparking to life under his touch, their luminescence casting eerie shadows across his sharp features. The holodisplay came alive, showing navigation, aquarium gate clearance functions, and a wealth of webnovels. Some afternoon reading, I suppose.
"Ohh, honey, I’ll take you away from the bad man. You deserve better than this parking lot," he said, though the words felt unnecessary, a ritual performed out of respect rather than need. The shuttle responded, a symphony of beeps and whirrs filling the cabin as the craft came alive, thrumming with latent mana. The shuttle's engines hummed, a low growl, as Sam guided the controls with an assuredness born of experience. The model 828 stood poised to claim the stars.
"Bro, can you even fly this thing? Maybe we should take the autopilot Hyundai," Jaxon had just caught up, entering the cockpit with Azelar once again over his shoulders.
"Do you know who I am? I’m fucking Sam. Youngest pirate lord of the Cazoran straight. Captain of the Robbin’ Goods Fleet, and I’ll be the king of the pirates!" Sam replied, his voice as steady as the pulsating thrum of the engines. "I’ve commandeered vessels of legend, outwitted corsairs and constellaries alike. You see, Jaxon. I can most definitely fly this beautiful thing."
“Good." Jaxon couldn't help but settle into a smile. "Set course for Aris.”