10 hours after departing from the Isle of Man’s sea terminal in Douglas; less than two days before the events of the past three chapters.
The ferry was a medium sized one, and because the members of the Raiding Division only totalled fifteen in number, each person got a room to themselves.
It was all Sam could have asked for, after all, he’d been able to get a hang on his ability because of that. Although, it was way past twenty minutes now since that had happened, and his joy had been cut short because something had attacked the ferry.
Sam was seated to the back despite the array of exquisite couches decorating the lounge, and beside him sat Richie. His face was as plaintive as ever, but his eyes showed that he was not glad to be sitting down beside Sam. He was most likely doing it because Jim had told him to be by Sam’s side all the time. Well, at least their rooms were different.
The ferry shook again at that moment, but no one was surprised. It was like the fifth or sixth time now.
“Lion’s mane jellyfish?” a young man asked. He seemed to be in his early twenties, and it was obvious that this was his first raiding mission as well. Sam could deduce that from the way his arms were folded and his eyes constantly shifted between the raid leader standing before them and the windows which were now clouded by fog.
“He looks like he’ll die early,” Sam muttered subconsciously. Richie glanced at him and he shrugged in response.
“Yes,” the raid leader, Emine, answered.
Despite her great build, her voice was quite soft. She also gave off the impression of a jovial person, though simply based on her burly outlook others might not realize this. Sam had come to find out that he possessed a rather fascinating Passive Skill called Observer. Maybe it was because of it that he could notice such little things about others.
“How do you know that?” the anxious man questioned further, his tone a little spiked.
“Shut it!” Douglas growled irritatedly, but he was not the only one feeling that way. His mere presence caused Sam’s heart to rage with spite, talk less of his voice tainting the air. “No one’s got the time to explain it all to ya. Ya wanna find out how she knows, get off ya butt and head into the fog then.”
The anxious man pressed his teeth together and shot to his feet. “You don’t get to tell me to shut up!”
Douglas legs were crossed. “Oh, yes I do. Now ya gonna sit down like the whiny little child you are and keep those lips shut.” He caressed the base of his rifle which was placed across his lap as some form of threat. “No one’s gonna miss whiny-boy once he’s gone, I tell ya.”
Anxiety was just a prelude to rash decision making, so Sam was not surprised when a blast of hot red energy burst forth from the anxious man, turning the lounge into an oven as his palms became engulfed with angry flames.
From this act alone, it was obvious what this person’s Division was, but that did not make it any less unpleasant. Sam hated it. However, it was not his place to settle a fight between two idiots.
He stole a glance at Diva who was seated on a stool, leaning on the frame of the bar top with a glass of crudely made wine in hand. It was one of the things the Hunters Faction had developed itself to have, an alcohol factory, that was why that alcoholic never ran out of whiskey to ingest; Sam had figured that out after listening in on two men’s conversations just before they’d left the Isle of Man on the ferry.
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Diva noticed his stare and winked at him. Sam sighed in exasperation. He wondered what she’d do once she found out his age; she would probably push him aside the same way Hande had done; he would honestly appreciate that.
Pulling his gaze away from her and scrutinizing the rest of the members of the division, he noticed that no one made an attempt to calm the anxious man down. Even the instigator, Douglas, remained seated with a smug smile on his face.
It seemed everyone was waiting for that person to act. And she did.
A deep breath in and out, and all of a sudden the heat in the lounge abruptly vanished as a chilling air overshadowed it, signifying its dominance.
The anxious man’s ability was instantly turned off—willingly or unwillingly, it didn’t matter—as he plunged knee-first to the floor. His eyes widened and his breathing hastened as though the air in his lungs had been cut off.
Sam knew that if only this overwhelming force had not been singularly directed at the anxious man, it would be everyone in the lounge on their knees; but since that was the case, they were all let off with only cold sweats running down their spines—at least, he was.
This was the aura of the fifth strongest in the Hunters Faction.
Richie had briefed him on who to avoid angering in the faction. Douglas was one, but they were well past that stage now. And even though the man was strong, he was not half the level of Emine. It was possible to kill him if he played his cards right.
There was one thing that bothered Sam though. He already knew the first in the faction was the faction leader, the second was the alcoholic, the third was apparently the faction leader’s cousin who was currently away on a mission. Since Emine was the fifth, then who was the fourth?
“Enough!” Emine’s voice rang out. And then she reined in herself, allowing the anxious man to gasp for breath. “What do you think you’re doing Douglas?” The spiteful head of guards remained quiet. “And you, Phineas, are you out of your mind?”
“I’m-I’m sorry.” Phineas struggled to speak.
“Have your seat.” Emine put her hands on her waist with an exhale as she watched him heed slowly. “I’ve briefed you all on what exactly is going on, and that is in fact the gist of it. I, Diva, and Douglas will head out to kill the Lion’s mane jellyfish; the air should be as peaceful as this once we return. As for you, Phineas, I’ll explain how I knew it was a jellyfish once we’ve returned.”
Sam knew what the selection was based on. The only ones who could head out into the fog filled with Wraiths were those who had the Privileges of the Benefactors.
Something bothered him though. How would they see in all the darkness?
Diva exhaled, gulped the rest of her drink, and along with Douglas, walked up to Emine. They were handed them something then.
“Googles?”
“Infrared ones,” Richie was the one who replied. Sam got the gist. With that they would be able to see in the dark.
Sam watched as the three of them approached the door to the ferry’s dock before halting.
“A minute,” Emine said, but Sam realized that her words were only meant for those who were heading out into battle with her. “All we have is a minute. Let’s do this right.”
At that moment calm waves of energy, each different from the other, cloaked their bodies, and with its appearance manifested symbols behind them.
Diva was in an ethereal embrace of sparkling flowing water, her symbol the depiction of a mermaid as blue as the sea with long, flowing hair and a golden crown, holding a goblet. Douglas, on the other hand, was covered in a dark blue energy a lot more violent than Diva’s, and his symbol was that of a merman riding a shark while gripping its fin.
As for Emine, she was shrouded in a fiery but warm orange vibrancy that accentuated her role as a leader; and behind her was the image of a figure in a red robe wielding a wooden staff with a glowing orb at the top while seated confidently upon a majestic tiger.
These were their Privileges, and the sight of them was nothing short of beautiful.