Making A Splash

Chapter 14

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Strom’s Landing, Fulgar - Solday the 11th, First-Quarter of Summer, The day after The Night of Four Stars

Amanda MacIntyre, known to everyone but her grandmother as “Mandy,” drifted aimlessly in the space between waking and sleeping like a soap bubble caught on the breeze. Unaware of her surroundings, numb to everything except her own thoughts, and even those moved like molasses.

God, I haven’t slept this good in months…

She thought she might like to remain in this blissful, detached state forever, but just as soon as that notion occurred to her, clarity forced itself back into her mind, and she begrudgingly started to awaken to herself and her surroundings.

“...gathered here to dedicate… …in the name of the goddess…”

She could hear muffled voices, coming in and out of focus like she was listening through a wall or from under the water. She could also hear, or maybe feel, heavy footsteps, like someone with boots walking on a hardwood floor.

Guess I’m not the first one awake… Tsh, and I thought I told those dumbasses to take their shoes off inside…

“...this fine vessel, which… …see the goddess's will be done…”

Aw, what the hell is that?

Mandy tried to focus on the voices she was hearing, and suddenly it was as if someone had grabbed the remote and cranked the volume all the way up, the voices coming to her as if they were right in her ear.

“...bring peace and hope to all who follow the goddess’s teachings, and strike fear and terror into those wicked hearts who would reject her love!”

Ow, fuck!

Mandy recoiled and felt the volume drop again, leaving her ears throbbing and her head spinning.

Oh, great. Some nerds must have gotten to the TV and put on some dumb fantasy drama.

She hadn’t just been able to make out the one voice, shouting a bunch of eye rolling nonsense about some goddess, but also many other incidental sounds: rolling waves crashing against something made of wood, the excited hushed conversations of a small crowd, the shifting of feet and the light clink of metal on metal.

Well, I guess that’s just the price you pay for throwing the best parties; uninvited nerds blasting lame shows in your ear while you're trying to sleep it off.

Speaking of the party, she tried to recall how exactly it had gone, what the rest of the night had been like past the snatches and fragments she could remember of the early hours, and found that there was nothing else there.

Huh…Well, it must have been a success then. Alright, time to get up and kick all these losers out of my house, then maybe see which of the guys wants to buy me breakfast…

Mandy made to move, to sit up and throw back the covers and climb out of bed, ready to face the day head on and grab it by the balls, like she did every day, only to realize she couldn’t actually move. No, scratch that, she couldn’t even feel her body to move it in the first place.

What the… Geez, what’d I sleep funny on my neck or something? I swear, if someone else took the master bedroom and I'm lying on a couch right now…

Her angry tirade died before it could really get started, as she noticed that not only was she not able to move, she couldn’t even see anything. She was certain she was wide awake, and yet she couldn’t open her eyes, or even feel them.

Okay, this is starting to get seriously freaky!

Pushing down the urge to give in to panic, Mandy tried to focus, tried to will everything she had into opening her eyes, and—

And just like that, Mandy could see again. Bright, dawn sunlight assaulted her vision, but when she tried to blink it away, she found she couldn’t. Not only that, but her field of view was absurdly wide, like she was looking through an impossibly powerful fish-eye lens. With this view, she could see that she was not, in fact, in the master bedroom at her parent’s spacious lakeside condo, but in fact standing (or was she sitting? Or floating? She couldn’t tell) on some kind of long dock at the edge of some coastal town she’d never seen before, with an expansive view of rolling countryside in the distance, and a range of mountains beyond that. At the same time, she also had a view of the most beautiful ocean vista she’d ever seen in her entire life, with many other old-timey boats with towering masts drifting in and out of the bay, and even glimpses of other islands way off in the distance. Idly, she found herself wondering how long it would take to reach some of them.

She could also see the crowd she’d heard. Most of them were facing her, and were wearing costumes like they ought to be operating a booth at the renn-faire that sold wizard beer, but there was also a second procession of people, every one standing with their backs to her, all in matching red outfits that Mandy could tell were military uniforms, but not of any style she recognized. They even had swords on their belts and spears in their hands!

Before she could even finish taking in all the bizarre sights, one of the figures with their back to her—an older man with thinning blond hair, wearing bright red and gold robes—raised his arms and began to cap off the speech that Mandy had been entirely ignoring up until now.

“And so, I bless this vessel, in the name of the mighty Fulminous Empire, Her Divine Majesty, and The Goddess of Love and War herself! May she sail in service of the goddess, forevermore!”

Then, while the crowd erupted into cheers and applause, the man turned and hurled a huge glass bottle directly at Mandy’s… face?

“What the fuck!”

Mandy let out a shout and threw her hands up, trying to duck out of the way of the bottle. It worked, sort of, in that she did see her arms appear in front of her, and she did duck down, but at the same time she felt like she still couldn’t move, and the bottle still sailed unerringly towards her, and she had to get out of the way, she had to move!

Some huge dark shape behind Mandy creaked and groaned, and she felt with iron-clad certainty that she had succeeded, she had moved, and at the same time she was still squatting there on the deck, cowering with her arms up in front of her. The sensations and feelings that were being fed into her brain didn’t make sense; it was like she was in two places at once. She felt heavy, and yet like she was floating on air, bobbing in place and tilting ever so slightly this way and that. She could feel cavernous space inside her, and water crashing into her, but also feel the wind playing across her skin and blowing through her hair, and she could feel wood and metal and rope and canvas and—

The bottle passed right over Mandy’s head, and she turned to follow it with her eyes, watching with mounting horror and confusion as it struck the side of a huge, old-fashioned wooden boat, shattering upon impact and coating the hull with its contents. She tried, and failed, to suppress a shudder as she realized she’d felt the impact as surely as she felt her own feet beneath her, and could even now feel the cold liquid dripping down from where it had made contact. She could even feel the little bubbles in the liquid, fizzing and popping.

Champagne… No, wait, it’s only champagne if it comes from… some place in France, right? And this definitely isn’t France, not with those accents… So where the hell am I?

Not only that, she could see herself now, see that she was standing down on the docks looking bewildered, wearing the same pink crop top, tight jeans and the brand-new red shoes she’d picked up for the party last night.

Mandy stared up at the massive hulking construction of wood and metal, and knew with the certainty of looking in a mirror and seeing your own face reflected back, she knew.

Mandy knew she was looking at herself.

“Whaaaaat… the fffffuck?”

Behind her, the crowd had gone silent, and Mandy spun around to see them all staring at her in shock. Except the uniformed men and women lined up in formation on either side of the robed man, the ones with the very real and very sharp looking spears. Now, most of those spears were pointed in her direction, and Mandy took several steps back, throwing her hands up.

“You there! Where did you come from?!” one of the soldiers shouted, and Mandy just gaped at him, her brain still playing catch up with her eyes.

“Looked like she came down from the ship,” another man said, glancing over Mandy’s shoulders at the boat. Even with her back turned to it, she could still feel it, bobbing up and down on the waves, tugging slightly against the ropes that held it to the pier.

“Goddess’ blood, we haven’t even taken her out of port and she’s already picked up a stowaway?” one woman said, earning a few chuckles from some of the other soldiers.

“Quiet, you lot!”

The soldiers' laughter came to a stop at once and they all straightened their backs and lifted their shoulders, glancing towards, what else, another man in a uniform similar to theirs; a dark red double-breasted coat on top of wide-legged red pants, tucked into black knee-high boots. Except this man’s uniform was visibly more well decorated than the rest; It had gold buttons, a longer tail on the coat, and it even came with a tall bicorne hat made of red leather, with an ostentatious red and black feather sticking out of it.

Geez, someone tell these people there are other colors besides red and black.

The man himself was also older than the other soldiers, though that wasn’t hard when most of them looked like they were barely twenty. This man at least appeared to be in his late twenties, with straight black hair pulled back into a thin ponytail. Like the rest, there was a sword hanging from his belt, and he had one hand resting on it as he approached, his dark eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“You there, what do you think you’re doing?” the dark-haired man asked. “Come away from that ship, now, and by my word, you will only be charged with unlawful entry to a private dock. Make us come get you, and you will receive the full punishment for trespassing on a ship of the Empress’ royal navy!”

Mandy, who had been watching all of this play out in stunned silence, wondered if maybe she was just still asleep, having the world’s weirdest dream.

“What is this dorky fantasy bullcrap…” Mandy muttered in a daze, and all of the soldiers furrowed their brows and exchanged confused glances, except for the older man, who simply drew his sword with one smooth motion of his arm. The blade was very thin and narrow, but looked no less sharp and ready to cut her to ribbons.

“This is your last warning, girl,” the man said calmly, taking another step towards her, causing Mandy to take another step back, and now she could feel the edge of the docks beneath her heel. There was nowhere left to go but over the edge, into the water, and the space between the pier and the ship itself.

“Hey, woah, hey!” Mandy waved her hands in front of her, her mind revving up into overdrive to try and figure out what was going on, and what she should do. Well, the answer to the latter was obvious, at least. Dream or not, she didn’t want to get fucking stabbed.

“I give up, okay?” Mandy said, holding her hands even higher, up over her head now. “Just, like, put the freakin’ sword down and I’ll go wherever the hell you want, alright?”

The man continued to glare at her, and Mandy thought for a second that he was about to escalate things even further, but thankfully he lowered the tip of his sword, returning it to the sheath at his waist and giving her an expectant look.

“Okay, okay, I’m coming over,” Mandy said, lowering her hands but keeping them held out in front of her. She thought, given the situation, that her heart would be beating out of her chest, and her breath would be coming in panicked bursts, but as she lifted her feet to walk back towards the dark haired man, she found that she wasn’t feeling any of those things. Sure, she was terrified, but her hands weren’t even shaking.

Because those aren’t my hands.

The thought came unbidden, and made her want to scream out a denial, but she didn’t want to risk startling any of the crazy people with weapons glaring daggers at her.

Finally, Mandy came within arms reach of the dark-haired man, and opened her mouth to speak.

“There, see? Everything’s cool, no need—”

“Got you!”

The man lunged forward faster than she could react, reaching out to grab Mandy by her wrist—

Only for his hand to pass harmlessly through it.

The man stared. Mandy stared. The soldiers and the man in the robes stared, and the few people in the front of the crowd who could see what was going on also stared, and the latter-most began muttering an explanation for the benefit of those that couldn’t see.

“Uh…” Mandy looked up at the man, who was now staring at his own gloved hand. He reached out, and again tried to grab onto Mandy’s wrist, and when that failed, he thrust his arm straight forward, causing it to pass straight through the center of Mandy’s chest.

“Hey, watch it, creep!” Mandy shouted, raising her hand and swinging it towards the man’s face. If she’d been thinking rationally, she would have spared herself the effort, since in all likelihood her hand would just pass through the man like his hand passed through her.

Imagine her surprise, then, when her palm collided with the man’s cheek with a meaty smack and he jerked backwards, bringing his own hand up to cover the spot he’d been struck. Again, everyone stared, and some of the crowd of onlookers even let out a few short lived laughs at the dark haired man’s expense.

To his credit, the man recovered quickly, and his hand flew to the sword at his hip again, beginning to draw it out while he growled, “You’ll pay for that, you bloody—”

“Stop!”

To Mandy’s relief, the man did, standing hunched forward with his sword halfway out of its sheath. The one who had shouted, the blond man in the red robes, had thrown his hands up and interposed himself between Mandy and the other man.

“Captain Vittorio, calm yourself, please,” the robed man urged, motioning with his outstretched hands for the other man, evidently Captain Vittorio, to calm down. He did so, marginally, sheathing his sword and standing up straight, keeping his glare trained on Mandy.

“What is going on here, Brother Eugene?” Captain Vittorio asked, perfunctorily straightening his coat, and the robed man turned sidelong, placing one hand on the captain’s shoulders and holding the other out towards Mandy.

“Can’t you see?” Brother Eugene asked, and Captain Vittorio narrowed his eyes even further, scrutinizing Mandy much more closely than he had before in a way that made her skin want to crawl. “Your men were correct, captain, this girl did come down from the ship, but she did not leap from the decks. I saw her materialize out of the hull of the ship itself, just as I threw the bottle to complete the ceremony.”

“What?” Mandy asked, furrowing her brow. Had she done that? How had she done that?

“I beg your pardon?” Captain Vittorio said incredulously, glancing from her to Brother Eugene, who was now beaming broadly, his eyes twinkling with something resembling pride. “What are you saying, Brother?”

“I’m saying, this young lady, this… being came fully into form as soon as the consecration of the ship was complete!” Brother Eugene raised his arms over his head again, motioning up towards the boat, and Mandy felt a shiver run down her spine, taking a step back again. Brother Eugene noticed her unease, and put on a smile that Mandy assumed was meant to be comforting. “I am deeply sorry for your rude awakening, my lady, you must be quite confused. Tell me… have you, perhaps, any memories of your life here in the mortal realm? Were you, perhaps, an accomplished naval commander or particularly skilled navigator?”

All of the spear-wielding soldiers exchanged glances at that, and the muttering from the crow kicked up several notches, and only Captain Vittorio seemed not to get swept up in the excitement.

“What? Do you seriously think she is an arsenal spirit? For what, the entire ship?” the captain asked dubiously, shaking his head and waving at the boat as well. “Brother, that is absurd. This ship is a fine one, yes, but not outstanding in any way, surely not so much as to be worthy of an arsenal spirit, and I doubt this girl”—Captain Vittorio thrust an angry finger in Mandy’s direction—“was ever a sailor of such unmatched skill that even the gods acknowledged her.”

“Hey, fuck you too, buddy.” Mandy huffed, crossing her arms and scowling right back at him.

Captain Vittorio scoffed, waving a hand in front of his face as though clearing a bad smell from the air. “And she has the manners of a dockhand.”

The robed man, who Mandy was now starting to suspect was some kind of priest, hummed thoughtfully as he continued to look her over, stroking his chin.

“No, you are right, she does not have the air of a seafarer, but rather… Mmh, what say you, spirit? Are you a reborn soul, sent here to lend your vast knowledge of naval matters to whomever commands this vessel?”

Now that she wasn’t having a sword shoved in her face, and didn’t seem to be in any serious danger since nobody seemed able to touch her, Mandy had a moment to collect her thoughts, and get her racing mind under control. She didn’t have the first clue what was going on here, but she knew she had to keep a cool head. Follow along, pay attention, figure out what her situation was and then try to improve it.

“No, I wasn’t,” Mandy said, truthfully. She thought about lying, going along with the idea she was some hundred year old ghost captain like Vittorio had said, but as good at improv as she was, that kind of knowledge sounded impossible to fake. And it seemed like that was the answer Brother Eugene expected, anyway.

“I thought not,” Brother Eugene said, nodding. He still wore that weird smile that was really starting to creep Mandy out. Not because it was fake, but because it seemed very, very real.

“No, I could tell immediately that there was something strange, something otherworldly about you, from your beautiful visage despite your plain garb, to your… wilful, indomitable bearing, you are no ordinary spirit,” he continued, clasping his hands together in front of him. “You should rejoice, Captain Vittorio. Your vessel has been given a most unprecedented blessing: It has been infused with a living aspect of the goddess herself.”

Saying this, the robed man dropped to one knee, holding his clasped hands in front of him and bowing his head deeply. The soldiers, many of whom had raised their spears rather than continue to point them ineffectually at Mandy, also let their weapons drop to their sides and assumed a similar kneeling position. Like a ripple spreading out from a stone dropped into a pool, as soon as word spread to the people in the crowd, they either dropped into a similar prostrate position, or went scurrying off, presumably to tell even more people.

“You… you can not be serious…” said Captain Vittorio, one of the few people still on his feet, glancing rapidly from Mandy to the kneeling priest. “You really think this… this… disrespectful child is—”

“Silence!” Mandy took a step forward as she bellowed, and took no small amount of satisfaction from the way Captain Vittorio stumbled backwards, his eyes wide as saucers. She’d been taking singing lessons since she was six, and projecting her voice was second nature to her. She wouldn’t be surprised if her shout had carried off into the foothills.

There were a few things Mandy didn’t know. She didn’t know how to take apart a car and put it back together. She didn’t know how to ice skate. She didn’t actually know where France was. But she did know how to spot a golden opportunity when it presented itself, and how to take it.

“I have tolerated your insolence quite enough for one day,” Mandy said in her most imperious voice, throwing the weight of seven years of drama classes and school plays and junior acting awards behind it as she spread her feet and crossed her arms, taking up an imposing stance.

Yes, if there was one thing Amanda “Mandy” MacIntyre knew, it was how to find the top of the pyramid, and how to put herself on it.

“It is as Brother Eugene has surmised,” Mandy said, lifting her chin and grinning smugly. “I am an aspect of your goddess, and you will respect me as such!”

■ ■ ■ ■

The Royal City of Lichtford, Capital of Fulgar - Solday the 11th, First-Quarter of Summer, The day after The Night of the Four Stars

“Fuuuuuck!”

Chad was having a bad morning.

“It’s over there! After it!”

Consequences of having a bad night, really.

“Would you assholes fuck off already!”

Then again, the day before that hadn’t been great either, but when compared to the day he was having now, Chad would’ve gladly taken a hundred more of those days over… this!

Chad barreled through a tight alleyway formed between two shabby stone buildings, shoving over crates and piles of trash as he went. Behind him, and to either side of him, he could hear the boots and shouts and whistles of his pursuers; armed and armored men in red uniforms, the same ones who’d been chasing him since he entered this city.

He’d woken up in a crater, in the middle of an actual farm, with a seriously pissed-off farmer brandishing a fireplace poker at him and shouting about demons. He’d ran, obviously, and had been working his way across the countryside towards the only source of light for miles around: an honest-to-god castle that seemed to have been built on the slope of one of the highest mountains around for miles, with a city spilling out from its base, continuing well into the shoreline.

At least it wasn’t completely circular.

“You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me,” Chad had remarked at the time, because the city was obviously, and very indisputably, a generic pseudo-medieval fantasy city.

He would find himself repeating that same phrase many times in the following hours, including when he actually stopped to examine himself and discovered he was no longer a human being, but instead a black-horned, blue-haired, purple-skinned, pointy-eared… demon, he supposed. He even had hooves, and a long, smooth, and prehensile tail.

“At least it doesn’t end in a point…” Chad had grumbled.

Perhaps most alarming of all was the thick metal shackle clamped around his right wrist, which had a short length of broken chain dangling from it, and no apparent seam showing where it could be opened, or even how it had been placed on him in the first place. He’d spent a good half-hour trying to bash the thing off with rocks before giving that up. At the very least, he could be thankful it didn’t feel uncomfortable. It was actually surprisingly easy to forget it was even there at all.

With few other appealing options, Chad had opted to make for the city. He definitely wasn’t going to go wandering off into the woods. He did not want to spend the next few weeks alone and fighting off wolves. Or slimes, or whatever low level mobs this world had.

Chad was hoping there’d be some generic city guards outside of a generic city gate for him to question, and he was already anticipating they’d be rude and, possibly, predisposed against him for being a “demon.” Along the way, he passed by more farmsteads, including one whose occupants had left one single piece of perfectly stealable clothing out on the line, much to Chad’s mixed relief and frustration.

“Fuckin’... kidding me…” Chad muttered as he tugged the red linen pants up his legs, struggling to cram his new hooves through the leg holes. As ridiculous as they were, (the hooves, not the pants) he was at least thankful he didn’t seem to be having any trouble walking on them, although they did make him feel like he was walking on high-heels. Not that he knew what that felt like, but he’d heard Mandy complain about it enough to guess.

Finally, he’d emerged from the woods, sweaty and irritated, but in sight of the huge city gate he’d expected to find, complete with portcullis and everything. It was built into the city’s outermost wall, that started at some point down near the coastline to Chad’s left, and continued on towards the sloping mountain peaks to his right. As he approached, Chad could also see the expected collection of ramshackle wooden structures, built out from and in some places leaning against the city walls, forming a pitiable little shanty village that he was sure this city only barely tolerated the presence of. As he walked straight down the center of the main road, he could see people lurking in doorways, leaning over rooftops, and in general watching him like a group of hawks as he stalked towards the gate. To his complete and utter lack of surprise, a lot of the people he saw out here seemed to have the features of various animals. He saw people with dog ears, and people with horns like those of a goat or ram or bull, and even a few winged people who walked on taloned feet.

“It’s always the animal people,” he sighed as he passed, hands shoved into the pockets of his stolen pants. “Wonder how long till I see some fuckin’ elves…”

His approach to the gate hadn’t gone unnoticed by its occupants either. He could see eight men standing in a loose formation in front of the actual gate itself, as well as three more stationed in a gatehouse nearby, and several men with crossbows leaning lazily out of narrow windows that ran along the length of the wall overhead.

“City’s closed fer the night, goat boy,” one of the guardsman told him once he stopped, just outside the ring of light cast by a firepit that the guards were maintaining. “Y’can go n’beg in the city once the sun’s up, if y’got the coin fer the toll.”

Chad rolled his eyes at that. He supposed he would look like a vagrant, wearing only stolen pants and no shirt. He glanced at the gateway again. The portcullis was raised, and only one of the massive banded wood doors was closed, the other one hanging wide open. If he had any money, he’d bet that it was left that way just because it was more convenient for these guards to not have to wait for the gate when changing shifts.

“I’m not a beggar, I just want to ask you guys some questions,” Chad said, crossing his arms over his chest. Not because he was cold or anything. Even though he could tell it was a cool night out, he felt fine. A little on the warm side, even.

“Why?” one of the guards sneered at him, pointing back the way he’d come with a knife he’d been using to carve slices off an apple. “So a couple’a your sneaky little accomplices can slip into the city while we’re distracted?”

By now, all eight of the guards had turned their attention on him, and those that were sitting had stood up. Chad glanced back over his shoulder, and saw that there were indeed several small clusters of people from the shanty village standing out in the open and watching their exchange from a respectable distance.

“Tsh, don’t lump me in with them,” Chad scoffed, facing forward again. “I just need some information, like where the fuck I am.”

“Bloody sod’s gone and drunk himself stupid,” another of the guards muttered, and the other seven laughed, and, looking back, Chad supposed that was the point where he made his first mistake.

“Hey!” he shouted, clenching his hands into fists and taking a step forward. “I tried askin’ you nicely, but if you want a free ass beatin’ first, that’s fine by me!”

Even in the moment, he was aware that he’d let his temper get the better of him, but in his defense, this was a very stressful situation. All at once, the guards stopped laughing, and several of them took one or two steps backwards. One of them, the largest by far with a thick beard of curly black hair and huge slab-like hands, stepped forward instead, either unaware or uncaring for whatever had startled the others.

“Are you threatenin’ officers of the law, goat boy?” he asked sardonically, chuckling darkly and cracking his knuckles as he approached. “That’s a serious offense, y’know?”

“Eh, c-corporal…” one of the guards behind the man spoke up, nervously, pointing a shaking finger at Chad. “I… don’t think that’s no goat, look at ‘im.”

The corporal glanced back at his fellow guards, then at Chad, his thick bushy eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

“What in the… what are you, some kinda… freaky elf-goat half-breed?” the man asked, disgust evident in his voice at the very idea. He closed in on Chad, intent on getting a better look at him, and Chad clenched his fists even tighter.

Yes, his first mistake had been stepping into the light, where the guards could see his purple skin, his horns, hooves, and tail, and the one feature of his new body he hadn’t been able to see for himself yet: his eyes, which were a deep, light-devouring black, except for the pupils, which stood out as tiny flickering points of orange light.

Chad’s second mistake was losing control of his temper, and lashing out. But that was nothing new.

“Who’re you callin’ a freak?!” Chad roared, and with practiced smoothness, stepped forward and decked the man square in the face with a powerful hook. As expected of anyone who received such a sudden blow right to the softest part of their nose, the big man reeled back in pain. What was unexpected was that Chad’s fist had caught fire as he swung it, so that when it made contact with the larger man’s face, both his beard and his thick, bushy eyebrows went up in flames.

Then, as the man went down screaming, rolling on the ground and patting at his scorched facial hair, while his broken nose gushed blood, and all the other guards recoiled in shock and terror, Chad made his third mistake, and ran into the city instead of away from it.

“My fault, really,” Chad panted with his back to a wall, catching his breath while he had the chance. He’d lost the guards from the gate easily enough, but he’d underestimated just how many more guards would be inside the city itself. He’d spent the entire rest of the early morning weaving his way deeper and deeper into the city, ducking his pursuers at every opportunity, which became a lot easier when he discovered that that fire punch thing from before hadn’t been a fluke.

Chad held up his hand, concentrating for half a second on his palm, and watched with carefully maintained disinterest as a softball sized ball of fire appeared in it, ready to be hurled at anything and anyone that got in his way.

“You’d think they’d get the hint after the first hour,” Chad growled, shaking his hand and dispersing the fire. Even now, he could hear distant shouts, and the shrill trilling of the metal whistles all of the guards carried. He only knew it had been over an hour because he’d heard the sound of a belltower’s bell ringing out across the city twice now; once early on in the chase, and one more a few minutes ago.

By now, the sun was well past rising, and he figured more and more people would be hitting the streets, and hoped that might give him a better chance to slip away unnoticed.

Suddenly, one of the doors that lined the sides of this secluded alleyway creaked opened beside him, and Chad was grabbed roughly by the shoulders and yanked inside.

“You fuck—mph!”

Chad was silenced by a hand larger than his face, clamping down over his mouth and pressing his back against a wall. The hand’s owner, a hugely muscled older man with thick, bull-like horns jutting out of his temples, held his other hand up in front of his own face, one finger raised in the universal symbol for “Shhh.”

Outside, Chad could hear muffled shouting and boots thundering past the door, presumably the guards he would have had to start running from all over again if this… bull man hadn’t pulled him inside. As grateful as Chad was, the man’s hand stank, and he really wanted to reach up and pry it away from his mouth.

Finally, long after the alley outside had fallen silent again, the man removed his hand, and stood up to his full seven foot height. Even standing tall on his hooves, that was well over Chad’s head.

“Eh… thanks, man,” Chad muttered as gratefully as he could, rubbing his chin and glancing around at the room he’d been pulled into. It was dimly lit, the windows that would let in the growing sunlight outside blocked by the many other buildings just like this one that were all crammed together in such close proximity. There was no real separation from the entranceway he was standing in, and the small sitting room beyond, where he could make out more people, sitting on a sagging sofa and watching him curiously.

“You’re the one who’s been causin’ all the commotion out there, huh?” the man said with a snort, clearly unimpressed.

“What is it, Da?” a young girl with short, curled ram’s horns on the sides of her head, asked from the couch, standing to get a better look. She appeared to be about fifteen, but it was hard to tell because she was so scrawny. There was also a younger boy hiding behind the girl, and as Chad watched, a woman with a similar towering physique to the first man emerged from just inside a doorway to stand in front of the children.

“Don’t rightly know, Zofia,” the man said, looking Chad up and down. “Word up n’ down the streets is ‘demon,’ but I ain’t never seen a real demon up close before. That what you are, lad?”

“Dude, I don’t know, I just woke up,” Chad said sourly, and the man laughed.

“Suppose that’s fair.” The man nodded, scratching at his chin. “T’be honest, makes no difference t’me. They say demons like you run wild if you don’t got a warlock with a pact keepin’ you in line, rampagin’ and pillagin’ until you’re brought down.” Tilting his head to the side, he peer down at Chad again. “You don’t look like you got much rampage in ya. You plannin’ on destroyin’ me and my family, lad?”

Chad stared up at the seven foot tall bull-man with biceps bigger around than his head and hands like wrecking balls, then glanced back to the woman still hovering protectively in front of the children who was also built like a brick shithouse, and met the man’s eyes again.

“No.”

Chad liked to think that he was pretty strong, but he also knew a bad matchup when he saw it. He might have gotten away with sucker punching the big guard at the gate, but this bull guy looked like he could rip Chad’s arm right out of its socket if he tried anything funny.

“Figured as much,” the man said, his serious face breaking out into an amused smirk. “Can’t trust nothin’ you hear in the Empire, y’know? They also say us beastfolk are lesser begins, created by mistake, so I’m disinclined to believe everything they say. Y’seem to me to just be another downtrodden soul, caught at the Empire’s mercy.”

The man laughed, and Chad just stared up at him blankly. He’d been able to put it off for now, what with all the running for his life he’d had to do, but it was finally starting to sink in that he really did seem to have been dropped on his ass in some literal fantasy world.

“Uuuugh…” Chad groaned, reaching up to try and run a hand across his forehead, but found that his horns got in the way. “This is so… stupid…”

The man exchanged a glance with the woman, presumably his wife, then cleared his throat.

“I can tell you’re havin’ a tough time of it, lad. You’re welcome to hide out here until the guards lose your scent, but I’m afraid I can’t offer you much more than that,” the man said, offering a hand and friendly smile. “Th’name’s Zangari. That there’s my wife, Katenka, and over there, my daughter Zofia and my youngest son, Pyotr.”

“Uh, Chad,” Chad said, reaching out and shaking Zangari’s hand.

“Chad, eh?” Zangari repeated, chuckling while giving his hand a firm shake. “Odd name, but I suppose you are a demon.”

“I’m not a demon,” Chad said testily, holding up his hand and scowling at the purple color. “I guess I must look like one, but I’m a human. I just woke up looking like this.”

Zangari raised an eyebrow at that, stepping back into the house and motioning for Chad to follow.

“Truly?” he said, leading Chad into the sitting room, where the two children had been watching from. “I’d heard that demons were summoned, but I never heard about someone’ gettin’ made into a demon. Which royal mage did you offend to end up havin’ that done to you, then?”

Chad suppressed another groan. Of course there were wizards.

Wait. No, scratch that. Of course! There were wizards!

If this world had magic—and, honestly, how could it not? Had he not been throwing fireballs around an hour ago?—could that explain how he ended up here in the first place? If so, could it send him back home? He definitely didn’t want to spend the rest of his life in this shithole of a fantasy world with its… fantasy racism. It was so stupid; how do you have people working like peasants and living in squalor when magic exists?

When Chad didn’t answer the question, Zangari just shrugged and motioned to the lumpy, deflated-looking couch. “Well, just take a load off here, my friend. Katenka, bring some water.” Turning back to Chad, he asked, “You hungry, lad? Got some dried fruit and sausages we can spare.”

“Zan,” the woman, Katenka, finally spoke up, crossing her thick arms. Like Zangari, she had the horns of a bull, only hers were slightly shorter and curved inwards at the tips. “We can’t keep a rogue demon here. You shouldn’t even have brought it inside, who knows how many eyes saw you? I’m sure The Rat King already knows it's here.”

“Fuck’s sake…” Chad muttered, bringing a hand to his forehead.

“Kat,” Zangari said softly, walking over towards his wife. “It’ll be fine. An hour, nothing more, just until the commotion dies down.”

Chad tuned out the quiet argument that ensued between the pair, sighing and slumping backwards on the couch. Honestly, it wasn’t the most uncomfortable couch he’d ever sat on, but it was awkward trying to find a way to sit without his stupid tail getting in the way. He caught movement out of the corner of one eye, and saw the young boy, Pyotr, duck down behind the arm of the couch. Except he didn’t duck far enough, and the tips of his nubby little horns were poking up over the edge.

“I can see you,” Chad said, and the boy raised his head again, resting his chin on the arm of the couch.

“Are you here t’eat me sis’s souls?” Pyotr asked.

“What?”

“They say demons eat souls, n’they like kids' souls best ‘cause they’re more fresh,” Pyotr explained, and Chad took in a deep breath through his nose, laying his head down against the back of the couch again.

“I’m not a demon,” Chad said, closing his eyes. “And I’m not here to eat your souls.”

“Okay.” Pyotr fell silent for a second, but Chad didn’t actually hear him move on from the couch, and when he cracked an eye open, the boy was still there, leaning over the arm and staring even more intently.

“If I pay you five spears, would you eat the district manager’s soul?” Pyotr asked, his large brown eyes sparkling.

“What?” Chad asked, furrowing his brow slightly. “Spears?”

Pyotr nodded, fishing around inside the pocket of his grey, roughspun pants, pulling out a small, silver, dirt smeared coin and holding it out on his palm. Chad peered down at it and saw that, in addition to some tiny writing he was too tired to bother trying to make out, it also had an image of a spear engraved in it.

“I been savin’ the coppers I get from sweepin’ hair at the barber, and some of the folks what visit from the upper districts’ll throw coins to us kids, just to make us go away,” Pyotr explained, turning the coin over, showing a sideways profile of a woman with her chin raised high, with a rose in her hair and a lightning bolt circling the outer edge.

“I’ll give you all five of ‘em if you eat the district manager’s soul. He’s a…” Pyotr glanced surreptitiously at his parents, who had receded further into the side hallway to have the rest of their tense conversation. “He’s a warty prick.”

Chad failed to suppress a snort of laughter, which only seemed to encourage the young boy.

“He’s real nasty,” Pyotr said, nodding sagely. “He takes bribes from The Rat King, and if his guards catch you on the streets after dark they’ll toss you outside the walls with the beggars.”

“Geez, kid,” Chad said, waving his hand in a shooing motion. “Keep your money. Like I said, I don’t eat souls.” Pyotr frowned at that, returning the dirty coin to his pocket and sliding back off the edge of the couch, and Chad felt himself wince internally.

Ah… fuck…

“Tell you what, though,” Chad said, clearing his throat and averting his gaze from Pyotr’s suddenly wide, hopeful eyes. “If I ever meet this district manager, I’ll kick him right in his warty prick for you, eh?”

Pyotr beamed at that, letting out a peal of laughter that was cut short by the daughter, Zofia, finally noticing him perched on the edge of the couch and scooping him up to hold protectively.

“Pyotr, stop bothering the… our guest,” Zofia admonished, carrying the boy off towards another part of the house while he protested weakly.

Left to his own devices again, Chad took another deep breath, then let out a tired sigh.

“Alright,” he said aloud, slapping his hands onto his knees and pushing himself to his feet… er, his hooves.

Fuck. So stupid.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Walking until he could peer down the short hallway that Zangari and Katenka were conversing in, Chad called out.

“Hey, y’know what? I’m just gonna get going now.”

Turning to face him, Zangari looked abashed, stepping out into the sitting room and waving his hands.

“Ah, that’s not—”

“No, no,” Chad interrupted, holding up his hand. “No, I know how this works. You let me stay here ‘just until it’s safe,’ and then something horrible happens to you because of it.” Shaking his head, Chad turned towards the front door. “Either the guards find me, and take it out on you and your nice little family, and I get captured, or this… Rat King, who I can only assume is some greasy slimeball mob boss, finds me here and then fuckin’ tries to blackmail you, and I get captured anyway, or something even worse… s’not important. Point is, I’m outta here before any of that can happen.”

Saying this, Chad turned and made for the door, his hand already on its way to the handle, when someone on the other side knocked hard enough to make it rattle in its frame.

“City guard! Open up!”

“God… damnit…”

■ ■ ■

“Absolutely not! I do not believe it! I refuse to believe it!”

Captain Vittorio was shouting, but Mandy was starting to assume that was just how he talked most of the time. He, as well as the priest, Brother Eugene, and the rest of the other uniformed men and women, who turned out to be Captain Vittorio’s crew, had all climbed up the gangplank into the boat following the priest’s “revelation.”

No, wait, they call it a ship, Mandy reminded herself. And, if that crazy old preacher is to be believed, that ship is me.

Mandy wanted to try denying it, just for a few more minutes, but it was kind of hard to ignore when she could literally feel every pair of boots as the soldiers and sailors began to walk across… her decks. Because apparently she had decks now. And masts. And sails, and just a ridiculous amount of cannons.

“Fourteen cannons,” Mandy whispered to herself. “Seven per side, not counting the little ones mounted on the front…” There was actually no ambiguity in the count. She could feel each and every cannon, down to the wheeled wooden frames, and the ropes that were currently keeping them secured in place.

“It is rather remarkable, isn’t it, Captain?” Brother Eugene said, his cheerful tone completely at odds with the captain’s seething anger. He had pulled up a chair at the huge, ornately carved desk that sat front and center in the captain’s cabin, and was resting comfortably while Captain Vittorio paced in front of it like an angry dog.

“Just think about it,” Brother Eugene continued as though he were completely oblivious to the other man’s ire. “Not only does a newly arrived divine aspect appear in our humble port, but she’s also manifested as the first ever recorded case of a spirit bonding with an entire vessel. Why it’s… unprecedented!”

“Yes, yes, it’s a bloody miracle, but why here? Why now? Why my ship and not a more important vessel, like the Black Rose?!” Captain Vittorio ranted, running a hand through his hair, his large hat having been tossed away in frustration several minutes ago. “I thought aspects of the goddess only manifested in actual flesh and blood members of the royal family. Why would one take the form of an arsenal spirit?”

“Mmh, yes, typically that is the case,” Brother Eugene said, leaning back in his chair and lifting his eyes to the ceiling. “Divine aspects are said to be born into the world when a god or goddess has a particular goal they wish to see enacted in the mortal realm, or to help guide their followers towards a better understanding of their wants and needs. Aspects of the Goddess of Love and War have appeared many, many times in the royal bloodline, and we owe much of our more sophisticated understanding of the goddess’s will to their existences. If one has appeared, here and now, it must be for a very important reason.”

Captain Vittorio was still visibly fuming, but it was clear he was finally running out of steam. He groaned, running his hand down his face now instead of through his hair. Turning to stare down Brother Eugene head on, he leaned in and placed both hands down on the table.

“Fine, yes, I can’t deny that,” Captain Vittorio said, sounding defeated. “Just tell me, Brother, are you absolutely certain that that girl… that the spirit is genuine?”

“Oh yes, Captain,” Brother Eugene said, beaming that smile that even now put Mandy on edge. “She may have been disoriented from her arrival and acted… oddly, but there is no mistaking it. It is said in the goddess’s scripture that her messengers would be so beautiful, their majesty would shine through even if they were stripped naked and thrown in a pit of mud.”

“Eugh, thanks for that mental image, dude,” Mandy muttered, rolling her eyes. “Definitely not doing that if they ask.”

Captain Vittorio sighed and hung his head, apparently finally giving up the ghost.

“Fine… I will… make preparations to alter our course. How soon can you have word sent to the capital?”

“It is already done,” Brother Eugene said, holding up his hands and grinning. “Two of the fastest couriers in town have been dispatched, one to the capital, one to Rear Admiral Bernhard.”

“About freakin’ time,” Mandy said to herself, loudly and irritably. She wasn’t in the captain's quarters with the other two, technically. That is to say, the version of her that looked like an actual human person, but was actually just some kind of magical mental projection, was currently sitting up in the crow’s nest, leaning on the railing and peering out at the ocean. Exactly where she’d been for the past fifteen minutes or so. That didn’t mean she couldn’t still hear every word that the pair were saying, as well as listen in on any other conversation that was going on between any of the other sailors, if she cared too.

“...seen the captain's face so red…”

“...’bout lost my nerve when ‘is hand went right through ‘er…”

“...really think she’s sent by the bleedin’ goddess?”

“Dunno. Figured a slice a’ the Goddess of Love n’ War would be a little more… impressive?”

“You weren’t standin’ close to ‘er when she let off that shout. Tell ya, surprised my ears ain’t bleedin.”

“Y'gotta admit, though. She does look an awful lot like one ‘a the royal descendants.”

“Psh, like your gutter-born ass has ever seen a royal in person!”

It was… exhausting. Not because she couldn’t keep track of everything that was going on, but because she could, if she expanded her focus to cover multiple rooms and corridors. It actually took more active effort on her part to ignore something that happened… inside her, (and wasn’t that going to get old quick) but like most aspects of her bizarre new existence, she was picking it up fast.

She also didn't feel any particular need to reveal that she could hear and see anything happening aboard the ship, of course. It'd help her gather more information about wherever the hell this place was and what was going on and, most importantly, help her better sell the image of being some kind of goddess's avatar or aspect or whatever.

“S'no skin off my back if they can't figure it out on her own,” Mandy said, shrugging and standing up straight, stretching her arms over her head. The move was mostly out of habit; her projection didn't really get sore, it seemed. Or hungry, or thirsty, which meant she’d probably never need to use the restroom again. Mandy never thought she'd have to wonder if she would miss those sensations, but here she was.

“Alright, I think I've given them long enough. Let's see…” Taking a deep breath, Mandy closed her eyes and just… stopped focusing on her “body.” All at once, her projection vanished, and for a short time she was just a boat again. She could feel herself bobbing on the tides, and count all nearly thirty pairs of boots from the soldiers milling around on her decks, plus the heavier footfalls of the deck hands who were even now loading her hull up with cargo and supplies. She could feel her sails, bound up tight and just waiting to be unfurled, and she could still hear, and see, Captain Vittorio’s somber frown as he accepted the inevitability of his situation.

If Mandy had a mouth at that moment, she would be smirking. With a thought, her projection partially emerged out of the center of the table between Captain Vittorio and Brother Eugene.

“—have to secure extra—ach!”

Captain Vittorio, who had still been leaning over the table with both palms pressed to the surface, let out a startled yelp and stumbled backwards, going for his sword again, before he realized it was just Mandy.

“My apologies, Captain,” Mandy said sweetly, with only her head and shoulders poking up out of the table. Captain Vittorio just narrowed his eyes at her and recovered his posture, straightening his coat again. Mandy turned to the priest, who was much less perturbed by her popping out of the table. Or, at least, he was doing a better job at hiding it.

“Have you two settled your little disagreement yet? I am eager to get under way as soon as possible,” Mandy said, rising higher out of the table until she was resting her elbows on its surface with her chin in her hands. Mandy had played her fair share of roles in her time, and though she usually preferred leading ladies, she hadn't turned down her chance to play the odd evil queen or jealous step sister. She knew how to act haughty and disinterested with everything around her, and while she still didn't know nearly enough about this “Goddess of Love and War,” she figured that was a solid foundation to build from.

Plus, she already had a plan to fix her lack of information.

“I believe so,” Brother Eugene said, folding his hands and smiling. “As I have informed Captain Vittorio, word of your miraculous appearance is already being sent ahead to the capital, and they will be expecting our arrival. With favorable wind and tides, we should reach the capital within a week or so. Captain Vittorio's deployment is being postponed, temporarily postponed, so that we may bring you to meet both the royal family, and the archbishop.”

“Oh, wonderful!” Mandy said cheerfully while groaning internally. This news had just raised the priority of filling in the gaps in her knowledge by several notches.

Behind her, Mandy could see Captain Vittorio’s frown deepen. Oh, she was already starting to love having almost literal eyes in the back of her head.

“Is something the matter, Captain?” Mandy asked, throwing a glance back over her shoulder, catching the man in the middle of trying to hide his expression. “You don't seem as excited by the news.”

Forcing a neutral expression into place, the captain shook his head, saying, “No, my lady. These recent developments have simply come as a great surprise to me.”

Hmm. Well that's no good. She understood it would be necessary for most of the crew to maintain a healthy amount of deference to her, but she wanted these two relaxed enough that they'd actually be able to talk to her, otherwise she might not be able to get any info out of them.

“Captain, please, there is no need for you to be so formal with me,” Mandy said, feeling a little thrill at the way Captain Vittorio’s head jerked back fractionally at that. “If there's something still bothering you, I'd like to know about it. I promise, you are not about to be smited for talking out of turn, so feel free to speak as candidly as you like.”

The lines of confusion in Captain Vittorio’s brows continued to deepen as she went on, and he flicked his eyes to the side, exchanging glances with Brother Eugene. The older man seemed just as bemused, and offered a miniscule shrug.

“As you say, my lady,” Captain Vittorio said, clearing his throat. “To be honest, I am… not pleased by the sudden turn of events, and what it likely heralds for my own career. This ship you have chosen to inhabit was slated for my command, but I fear that upon our arrival at the capital it will be… taken from me, and I will be left waiting for the next new ship to become available before I can finally… before my chance to lead the fight against the Empire’s enemies presents itself again.”

Ah, so it was that after all. Mandy had caught some of the other soldiers speculating about this very topic earlier.

“What'cha suppose happens to us when we reach the capital?”

“Dunno, figure they get one look at that spirit lady an’ decide the lot of us ain't ‘worthy’ enough to keep sailin’ ‘er, send us packin’ back to the landing.”

“Hear that. Probably hand her off to some royal brat who still has his milk teeth to play admiral with, too.”

Yeah, Mandy definitely didn't like the sound of that, and fortunately it seemed like Captain Vittorio didn't either. She cupped a hand to her chin to give the impression she was actually thinking it over, but she'd already figured this would be a sticking point for the captain. For some reason, he seemed to have a bit of a chip on his shoulder about coming from the little harbor town of Strom’s Landing, and was looking forward to this deployment as a chance to prove himself. Mandy didn't really get it, but she did know how to make use of it.

“Is that all?” she asked, cocking her head to the side with a smile. “You should have just said so, Captain. If you're afraid you'll be passed over for your chance because of me, then I can simply tell them I will have you as my captain, or I will have no captain at all.”

Mandy delighted in the looks of surprise she saw on the faces of Captain Vittorio, Brother Eugene, and the scrawny little sailor who had been cajoled by some of his compatriots to sneak over and listen in at the door. That last one, Mandy noticed curiously, seemed to have the pointed ears and fuzzy tail of some kind of dog.

Overcoming his surprise quickly, Captain Vittorio now looked at her with hopeful suspicion. He narrowed his eyes at her, and his flat mouth took an almost invisible downward turn.

“Why? Don’t get me wrong, I am more than grateful that you would consider doing something like that, but why would you do that for me? I can’t imagine I’ve made the best first impression of myself.”

“Why else?” Mandy said, holding a hand to her chest and smiling enigmatically. “You said so yourself: It is my fault you’re being inconvenienced, so I would feel terrible to see you ousted from your appointment and sent back to your hometown in disgrace, to have to wait goddess knows how long for another ship.” Putting on her most winning smile—literally, she had won more than one pageant before she was even a teenager with that smile—Mandy bowed her head towards Captain Vittorio.

“The goddess is merciful, is she not?”

That, thankfully, seemed to finally convince the captain that she was on his side, and Mandy’s smile grew wider as his shoulders relaxed and his hands unclenched at his sides. She didn't think she'd fully won him over just yet, but it was a nice foundation.

“I… suppose she is,” Captain Vittorio said, with a contemplative look on his face. Wordlessly, he turned and began to stalk towards the door out of the cabin. The very same door that the young dog-eared soldier was still listening at intently.

Well, that won't do.

“Ah, are you leaving, Captain?” Mandy asked, projecting her voice just enough that she was sure the man would hear it through the door. His eyes widened, and he turned, quickly but carefully shuffling off down the hall towards where his fellows were waiting for him.

“I should… see to the dockhands,” Captain Vittorio said, in a much more subdued tone. “Make sure they're unloading everything properly.”

“Ah, very good,” Mandy said, putting on another smile. “Until next time then, Captain.”

Again, Captain Vittorio seemed not to know how to respond, so he simply didn't. Giving her a final bow, he continued towards the door, slipping out into the hall without another word. Mandy watched as he let his back fall against the door behind him and brought a hand to his face, running it up over his forehead and through his hair, fastidiously straightening it just like he did with his uniform.

Weird guy, Mandy thought, as she turned to face Brother Eugene. Now that she was done bothering the captain, she didn't need to keep standing in the table. Gripping the edge, she pulled herself up out of the wood surface like she was climbing out of a pool, and took a seat on top of the table, crossing one leg over the other.

“Brother Eugene,” Mandy began with a smile. “I'm glad I finally have a chance to speak with you.”

“Oh? I thank you, ah, my lady,” Brother Eugene replied, bowing his head briefly. “If I may be so bold, may I ask your name? Or perhaps, what title you wish to go by during your stay here in the mortal realm?”

“Of course, Brother Eugene,” Amanda said, raising her chin and placing a hand to her chest. “My name is ‘Scarlett’ but you and the rest of the crew may call me ‘Lady Scarlett.'”

It didn't take a genius to figure out that these guys, and probably the empire in general, had a real thing for the color red, considering how much of it made up the majority of their uniforms.

“Lady Scarlett then,” Brother Eugene said, beaming with pleasure. “What can this humble brother do for you?”

“I've been meaning to ask you a few questions, actually,” Mandy said, and though his eyebrows raised slightly, Brother Eugene nodded quickly.

“Anything, my lady.”

“You are a priest of the ch—er, temple, right?” Mandy asked, remembering when she'd overheard him saying something about dispatching a messenger to the “temple.” Another nod from Brother Eugene, and Mandy’s smile widened. “Do you happen to… carry any of the goddess's scripture on your person?”

Brother Eugene's own smile remained in place, but his brows furrowed slightly in confusion, and he asked, “Do you mean… books or scrolls of the goddess's teachings?”

“Yes, exactly that,” Mandy said, and felt a stab of disappointment when Brother Eugene did not immediately begin pulling scrolls of helpful exposition out of his robes, but instead just frowned and shook his head.

“No, my lady, I'm afraid I don't. Those are kept in the temple's library, under lock and key,” Brother Eugene explained while Mandy did her best to nod along casually while, inside, her frustrations mounted. “Something like that is far too significant and valuable for me to just carry around with me in this town, even with an armed escort.”

“Is that so?” Mandy asked with a tiny hint of feigned concern.

“I'm afraid so, but it wouldn’t be proper of me to speak of such matters in the presence of the goddess’ envoy.” Brother Eugene said, folding his hands inside the sleeves of his robe again.

Didn’t she just say they didn’t need to be so uptight with her? She didn’t think she’d have to explain it twice, but here she was.

“Brother Eugene, I told you, there’s absolutely no need to be so stiff,” Mandy said, raising an eyebrow and giving him a sly smirk. “You speak to the goddess every single day, do you not?” Brother Eugene hesitated for a moment before giving her a nervous nod, and her smile grew. “Well, there you go! Just speak to me as though I am an old friend.”

That seemed to satisfy the priest, for now, and he settled a little more comfortably into his seat.

“Well, you didn't hear this from me, but Strom’s Landing has fallen far from its former glory as one of Fulgar's most thriving seaports.” Closing his eyes and leaning back in his chair, the man shook his head and sighed. “It’s the beastkin, you see. If it were up to me, my lady, we’d have never let so many of those troublemakers in from the colonies. And they’ve even begun allowing them into the royal army as well! Disgraceful, if you ask me.”

Geez, this guy can really carry on a conversation by himself, huh? Not surprising, I guess, he is a priest.

Though, there was at least one piece of crucial information in his rambling: what the deal was with the animal people she’d been seeing, like the huge guys with bull horns who made up most of the dockhands currently loading cargo into her. She’d noticed them earlier, as well as other seemingly ordinary humans with the horns, ears, tails, and in some cases, wings, mixed into the crowd that had been watching the ceremony. Even now, looking out from her hull, she could see a crowd of children with dog ears and tails, just like the young soldier who’d been spying, kicking a ball back and forth in front of a shop a short distance from the docks.

Beastkin, eh? Are they all the same species, then? They kinda just look like people with extra bits stuck on, but what determines whether someone is born a bull guy or a dog boy or bird girl or what? And what’s this dude’s problem with them? Ah well, later.

Clearing her throat, Mandy sat up straighter, drawing Brother Eugene out of the explanation that had quickly devolved into a monologue.

“Well then, in that case, I have another request for you,” Mandy said, lifting her chin to peer down her nose at Brother Eugene from her perch on the edge of the table. “I would like you to… recite some of those teachings for me. Start with the basics, and then move on to some more complicated topics.”

“Oh,” Brother Eugene said, blinking in surprise. “But of course, Lady Scarlett, I would be happy to, although… may I ask… why?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Mandy asked with a coy little smile. It was one of her favorite questions to ask, usually because it either meant she got someone to admit she knew something that they didn’t, or they would try to play along like they did, and often end up blurting something out they thought she already knew. A win-win, honestly.

“I’m afraid not, my lady,” Brother Eugene said, shaking his head.

“I wish to know how well you have been interpreting the goddess’s words,” Mandy said, stressing the idea that it was possible they’d been getting it wrong up until now. “I want to see how well you’ve understood them and taken them to heart.”

“Ah!” Brother Eugene said, his eyes widening with realization and his hand going to his chin. “I see, I see. I can’t say I’m not… honored to be asked to deliver a sermon to a manifestation of the goddess’s very will, but I am simply not worthy. Would it not be best to wait until we reach the capital? I’m sure the archbishop there will be able to make anything I could say sound like the drunken ramblings of a vagrant.”

Ugh, come on! How hard can it be to get a preacher to preach!

Thankfully, with a body that wasn’t, strictly speaking, real, it was even easier to suppress her irritation and keep her face and tone completely neutral, as she said, “I’ve no doubt this… archbishop is more learned than you, but I suspect that I’ll be rather busy once we arrive in the capital. I would like to hear it from you first, so that I might have something to compare the archbishop’s words against.” Leaning forward and lowering her voice to a conspiratorial hush, Mandy smirked and said, “I fear that, due to my position, he may be compelled to tell me an… enhanced version of the truth. To tell me what he thinks I want to hear, rather than what I actually want to hear, understand?”

“Aaah.” Realization lit up Brother Eugene’s face and he nodded in understanding, then tilted his head slightly. “Ah, but do you not fear the same from me?”

“Why, Brother Eugene, of course not,” Mandy sat up straight again, resting her hands on her knee and putting on her most imperious smile, a smile that said “Go ahead, cross me, if you dare!”

“Because you’re going to be completely honest with me, aren’t you?”

Some of the color drained from Brother Eugene’s cheeks, and Mandy thought she even started to see sweat forming on his brow, and wondered if maybe she overdid it.

Mmh… nah…

“Oh course I will, my lady,” Brother Eugene said, bowing his head much deeper than he had been before. “I will tell you the entire bloody history of the empire, if it please you.”

“Start with the scripture, and then we’ll see,” Mandy said, settling back on the table and propping herself up on her hands. Brother Eugene nodded, and then, finally, began to deliver a brief but extremely vital breakdown of everything Mandy could hope to know about the Goddess of Love and War.

■ ■ ■ ■

“City guard! Open up!”

“Zan, what do we do?”

“I… I don’t know…”

“Ma? Da?”

Chad stepped back from the door with another sigh, while around him the nice little family that had sheltered him for all of, what, three minutes broke out into panicked whispers.

“This is such bullshit…” Chad muttered, earning him strange looks from the pair of bull-horned adults. Shaking his head, he motioned for Zangari to come closer, and when the man did, he turned his back to him and motioned at his neck.

“Here, grab me,” he said, and when he felt the man’s huge hands land lightly on his shoulders, he rolled his eyes. “Not like that, man, like you just caught the dangerous demon that’s been running around setting things on fire all morning!”

“This is your last warning! Either you come out, or we’re comin’ in!”

At Chad’s insistent tugging, Zangari eventually got him into a halfway convincing looking choke hold, and together they approached the door.

“This don’t feel right, lad, I can’t just give you—”

“Man, shut up, we’ve known each other for like two minutes,” Chad cut him off with a grumble. As “heartwarming” and “inspiring” as it may be that this man didn’t want to turn him in, it really was the only way Chad could think of to keep him and his family from getting in trouble.

And besides, it wasn’t like he was actually giving himself up.

Reaching out, Chad gripped the handle of the door, and pulled it inward, and Zangari thankfully didn’t need to be instructed to shove forward, bringing himself and his “captive” out into the alleyway instead of letting the small crowd of six guards into his home. With a shout of alarm, the group split in half, each one towards a different entrance to the alley, trapping Chad and Zangari between them.

“S’alright, boys!” Zangari bellowed, using his impressive strength to lift Chad briefly off the ground. “I got ‘im! I got the little bugger!”

Least he knows how to act. That makes one of us.

Chad, for his part, snarled and kicked his hooved feet in front of him, grabbing the larger man’s wrist and ineffectually tugging at it. He even tried to lash his tail, for added effect, and found it surprisingly easy.

“Release me, uh, mortal!” Chad hissed, hoping he didn’t sound as much like an idiot as he felt. As many times as he’d agreed to read lines opposite Mandy so she could prepare for a part, he’d never gotten any better at it. He tried to refuse, but when your girlfriend asked you for “a tiny favor” and promised to “make it worth your while,” how could you turn her down?

Well, ex-girlfriend now, Chad recalled bitterly.

“Well I’ll be damned!” the guard who was at the head of the group in front of him laughed, snapping Chad back to the present. “Knew there was a reason we keep you big ugly bastards around! Keep him held there while we get the cuffs on ‘im!”

Chad felt Zangari tense behind him, but the man held firm as the first guard approached, pulling a huge, heavy-looking pair of metal shackles from his belt. Chad growled dangerously, but otherwise continued to pretend like he’d been totally subdued, even though both his arms and his legs (and his tail!) were completely free. Seriously, were these guards designed to be incompetent?

When the guard was less than two steps away, Chad gave the signal. The signal he’d come up with in the two seconds before he and Zangari opened the door.

“When I tap you with my tail two times, loosen your grip.”

Chad poked Zangari in the stomach twice with the blunt tip of his tail, and the man’s arms came loose. Then, he enacted the part of the plan he hadn’t told Zangari about.

Chad grabbed the arm that had previously been clamped around his neck, and bit it as hard as he could.

He had discovered during his self-inspection that all of his teeth now had a slight point to them, with his canines being the most prominent, and had been wondering ever since if they were actually capable of piercing flesh. He felt no special satisfaction when he felt blood enter his mouth, but he figured it would at least better throw the suspicion off of Zangari and his family.

Ducking out from between the bull man’s arms while he roared in pain, Chad dug his hooves into the ground and shoulder tackled the wide-eyed guard, driving him back into his companion, and then driving those two into the man behind them. Shoving them into a confused, screaming heap, Chad leapt over them and took off down another alleyway.

In the end, he kind of wished he’d gotten to accept those sausages Zangari had offered him. He was starting to feel hungry.

A feeling that grew rapidly over the course of the next half hour, as Chad continued to try and dissuade his pursuers by conjuring balls of fire and chucking them haphazardly in the guards’ general directions. It was only when he noticed that every new fireball seemed to make his empty stomach clench that he thought something might be wrong, a suspicion that was confirmed a few minutes later when he collapsed mid run, feeling like someone had stabbed a knife into his stomach.

“What… the f-fuck!” Chad heaved and groaned on the ground, arms wrapped around his stomach. He wasn’t hungry anymore, he was ravenous, and his body was cold and every one of his muscles ached. His vision swam as he rolled onto his side, watching with mind numbing dread as the blurry forms of countless city guards closed in around him. He could see them gesturing and shouting, but his ears were ringing too much to hear.

Finally, mercifully, Chad blacked out.

And woke up some time later in a literal, actual, fucking dungeon.

But not a fucking dungeon, if you know what I mean… Chad’s weary, overstressed brain spat out, and he groaned inwardly.

Chad could immediately tell that was where he was without even sitting up—not that he was in any particular hurry to do so—by the sight of rough stone walls and thick iron bars, and the feeling of cold stone on his back. At the very least, he wasn’t freezing cold, and didn't seem to be starving to death anymore. He actually felt an odd warmth washing over him, centering on a point above his—

Lifting his head, Chad found a red-skinned, four-fingered hand pressed to his bare chest, and let out a startled yelp, trying to scramble backwards.

“Sit still!”

The hand’s owner snapped at him and pressed him back down with ease. That was cause for some concern; Chad felt as weak as a kitten, and doubted he’d have made much progress even without the hand holding him down.

Lifting his eyes, he found that the hand belonged to a woman, and perhaps more importantly, another demon. At least, he assumed that’s what her red skin and pink hair meant. He also jerked back slightly when he saw that she had a third eye situated in the middle of her forehead, between her horns. Her legs didn’t end in hooves like his, but instead feet with only four thick toes. She didn’t have a tail, but she did have small bat-like wings jutting out of her shoulder blades that flapped idly as she leaned over him again.

Chad also noticed, belatedly, the thick metal shackle on her wrist, identical to his, as well as its twin on her other wrist, and the matching pair around her ankles. Capping them off, a heavy metal collar hung from her neck, visible above the short-hemmed, short-sleeved robe she wore; her only actual article of clothing.

Damn… maybe it is that kind of dungeon afterall…

“Don’t give me that look,” the woman said at Chad’s sour scowl, probably assuming it was aimed at her and not his own brain. “I’m just trying to make sure you don’t burn yourself out again. It was a near thing, from what I hear. Used up nearly every last drop of mana you had. Would’ve worked, if the guards hadn’t got the demonbinders on you.” Turning her head, the woman’s eyes went slightly distant, and she muttered, “Though, I guess if I had the chance to try and banish myself like that, I’d probably take it.”

Chad stared up at the woman from his prone position, his eyes narrowing and his brow furrowing further the longer she went on. Letting his head hit the stone floor of the dungeon, he glared contemptuously up at the ceiling and let out a protracted sigh of frustration

“Can’t fuckin’ believe this…” Chad groused, and the woman’s face softened, giving him a sympathetic frown.

“I’m sorry,” she said, and Chad felt like there was a weight to those words that he just simply didn’t understand. An awkward silence followed for a few moments, and the woman removed her hand from his chest. “There, that should be enough mana for you to move on your own again.”

Sure enough, Chad felt like some of the strength had returned to his muscles as he sat up. He still felt like hammered shit, and he was still hungry. As if reading his mind, the demon woman turned and lifted a large bowl of… meat hunks? And placed it into his lap. The meat wasn’t so much “cooked” as “charred,” but it still smelled utterly delicious, and Chad could actually feel his mouth watering.

“This is for me?” he asked warily, eyeing the woman. She arched an eyebrow and nodded.

“Yeah? Better eat up quick, the archbishop will want to talk to you soon, and you’re going to need all the energy you can get for… what comes after,” the woman said, looking off to the side. Chad wanted to ask for more details, but he also wanted to just cram as much of this mystery meat in his mouth as possible. Hunger won out, and he picked up one of the chunks, tossing it into his mouth to be shredded by his teeth. The meat was stringy, and really seemed like it had just been held over a fire until it turned black, as there were no hints of any seasonings to be found aside from the natural grease released as he chewed. And yet, it still had a certain… smokiness to it that didn’t seem like it could be natural, or unintentional.

“Damn, this is pretty good,” Chad remarked as he swallowed his first mouthful and reached for another chunk. “What is it?”

“Roasted dusk rats,” the woman answered, and Chad froze completely, mouth hung open, the chunk of meat still pinched between his fingers.

Chad thought about jabbing one of his clawed fingers down his throat until he hacked up the bits he’d already eaten. He thought about upending the bowl, and maybe shouting at the woman, demanding she explain why she didn’t tell him it was rat meat before he started eating it.

In the end, he popped the chunk of meat into his mouth, and started working it between his teeth. He was just… too tired, and sore, and hungry for any of that shit.

“Don’t suppose you can tell me why I’m eating fuckin’ rat meat?” Chad asked, not really expecting an answer outside of “It’s a dungeon, what do you expect? A t-bone steak?”

“Dusk rats,” the woman reiterated, giving Chad a look and nodding at the bowl. “And you’re eating them because you need to restore your mana, and because dusk rats are the cheapest cuts of meat the archbishop is willing to buy for us that still technically count as monster flesh.”

Chad’s chewing slowed a bit at that, and he glanced down at the bowl once more.

“You’re tellin’ me this came from monster rats?” he asked, unable to suppress a little quiver of genuine curiosity.

“Yeah? They’re not actual monsters, they’re just pests, like slimes, but they do have way more mana in them than a normal animal,” the woman explained, then cocked her head to one side. “Sorry, you seem confused, is this your first time being summoned?”

“Lady,” Chad said, grabbing another chunk of magic rat monster meat and tossing it into his mouth. “I got no fuckin’ idea what you’re talking about. I wasn’t summoned anywhere, I just woke up in a crater in a field a few hours ago, and before that I was on a boat, slammin’ beers with my bros and thinkin’ about all the college girls I’d be hookin’ up with next year.”

The woman’s eyebrows scrunched up in confusion, and Chad chuckled to himself, shaking his head and reaching for another chunk of meat. Now that he’d gotten used to the taste, they were even easier to scarf down, and with each one he felt more of his energy returning.

“First of all, I’m not a lady,” the woman said, shaking her head. “I’m Ruby, and that… I have no idea what most of that meant. If you’ve never been summoned before, but you don’t have any of the usual memories, are you… a new demon?”

Ruby’s eyes widened slightly, and she clapped a hand over her mouth. Chad raised an eyebrow, and opened his mouth to speak, but she placed her other hand over it to silence him, shaking her head. Chad watched, still chewing, as she seemed to compose herself, and finally spoke again.

“There’s… something off about you, something strange, but whatever it is, you shouldn’t say any more. Right now, what you’ve said is gibberish, and I can get away with ignoring it, but the archbishop ordered me to tell him if you revealed anything interesting, so don’t tell me anything else about what you do or don't remember.”

Her tone was serious, but Chad could only raise an eyebrow. He could already tell this archbishop guy was bad news just from the way Ruby talked about him, but couldn’t she just… ignore an order like that? Just tell him she didn’t hear anything?

Chad glanced again at the heavy collar around her neck.

Right, he definitely wasn’t sticking around to find out.

“Alright,” Chad said, dragging his finger along the bottom of the bowl to collect some of the grease that had pooled there, licking it off before setting the bowl aside and standing up. Wiping his hands on his pants, he turned towards the door to his cell. “Won’t have to hear anything else from me, because I’m outta’ here.”

“W-wait!” Ruby called, scrambling to her feet behind him. “I can’t let you leave!”

“Lady, I know you’re probably in some really fucked up situation, but I won’t hesitate to—”

Just as Chad started to reach out for the iron bars, intent on lighting his hands on fire and seeing if he could melt through them, a shimmering barrier of blue-ish light flickered into existence, shielding that entire wall of the cell.

Turning back around, Chad found Ruby standing with her arm outstretched, a pained look on her face. Squinting, Chad could see that part of the collar she wore had started glowing. It was an engraving of some kind, and as he got closer, he was able to make out the words.

I vow to obey any and every order I am given by my pact holder, to the absolute limits of my ability.

“What the fuck…?” Chad muttered as the glowing words faded, and Ruby lowered her hand. Behind him, the barrier flickered out, and Ruby let out a sigh.

“Like I said… I can’t let you leave,” Ruby said, meeting Chad’s eyes with her own sad, tired gaze. “I physically can’t allow you to try to leave, nor can I let you take the keys to the cell that I have on me without fighting you to the death to try and stop you. I’ve been ordered.” She reached up and cupped the bottom edge of the collar.

At that point, a dozen snippy remarks jumped to the front of his brain. He could have launched into a rant about how “magic-powered slavery was total bullshit” or say something like “of course the church is actually doing a bunch of evil stuff,” but everything he wanted to say suddenly seemed not so clever or funny anymore.

“Sorry,” Chad muttered lamely, crossing his arms and looking off towards the far side of the cell. “That… sounds like it sucks.”

That didn’t feel like enough, but Chad was dealing with his own pile of shit at the moment, so it was probably the best she was going to get. He wasn’t the most sympathetic guy at the best of times, he knew, and this was way more difficult than trying to figure out what to say when a guy on his football team told him some family member was in the hospital.

Ruby remained silent, and Chad wondered if he should try saying more, when his avoidant gaze fell upon something in the adjoining cell that caused his hair to stand on end.

It was another person, sitting with their back to the stone wall, their knees pulled up to their chest and their head buried in their arms. At first, he thought it was a corpse, because their flesh was bone white, but as he walked closer to the wall that separated his cell from theirs, he saw that they also had long, pure white hair as well, that hung in curtains down their back and pooled on the dungeon floor around them. Chad also saw, with a jolt of alarm, that there were piles of actual bones, picked clean and littering the floor of their cell, though thankfully they all appeared to be animal bones.

“Hey!” Chad called out, and the girl raised her head, peering at Chad with bright red eyes and a mask-like face. She looked for only a second, before dropping her face back into her arms.

“Hey!” he tried calling again, but she didn’t move, and he turned back around, finding Ruby looking at him curiously. “Is she another demon or something?”

“Her? No, she’s… another one of the archbishop’s experiments, I think. Before my time,” Ruby said, leaning around Chad to look impassively at the girl. “She doesn’t speak, and the only time I ever see her move is to eat. Whatever project she was for, I think it failed.”

“Fuck…” Chad said, feeling his hands clench into fists. She didn’t even have a bed in there. At least his cell had a rickety-looking cot. He stared at the pale girl until he couldn’t stand it any longer, and spun around, slamming his back into the bars and dropping into a squat.

He needed a distraction; something else to think about, something else to focus on, before he did something stupid.

“Alright,” Chad said, motioning to Ruby. “Sit down. Talk about something, talk about… where we are. Talk about what a demon is, and what the deal with those cuffs are. Don’t tell it to me, because I already know all that shit, but just talk about it, like you’re alone and talking to yourself.”

“I don’t—”

“Just do it!” Chad snapped, slamming his fist into the cell bars behind him, trying not to think about whether Ruby’s orders meant she would have to stop him if he tried to burn his way through them to get to the pale girl.

Taken aback, Ruby turned away from him and sat down, facing the door to the cell. She took a moment to collect her thoughts, then cleared her throat, and began speaking to the empty air, like she was delivering a speech.

“We are… I am currently in the capital city of Lichtford, on the island of Fulgar, home to the royal family of the Fulminous Empire…”

■ ■ ■

“I think that will be all for now, Brother Eugene,” Mandy said, raising a hand and putting a stop to the priest’s impromptu sermon. She’d been sitting perfectly still and listening for so long she felt like she’d nearly forgotten how to move.

“Mmh? Are you certain, my Lady? I was just—”

“Oh yes, quite certain,” Mandy hastily cut the man off, rising to her feet. “I would like some time to… digest all that I have heard, and I believe we will be setting off soon as well. You go ahead and meet up with Captain Vittorio, I will join you both on deck soon enough.” Mandy ushered the older man first out of his seat, then towards the door out of the captain's quarters, all the while assuring him that they would speak again soon. All but slamming the door behind him, Mandy slumped against its surface and slid to the ground.

“Geeeeeeez…” Mandy groaned into her hands. “I asked the guy for a rundown on scripture, not a laundry list of everything he hates about his shitty little town.”

The conversation had started off fine; Mandy had learned that The Goddess of Love and War was, first off, the actual full name of the goddess, and she didn’t have a “name” name, like the other “minor” gods. She learned about her somewhat confusing dual nature as a goddess of war and conflict and bloody battles, and also of love and romance and marriage and, most surprisingly to Mandy, sex. She obviously couldn’t ask too many questions during Brother Eugene’s monologue, but she had been able to prod him into explaining that, no, the Goddess of Love and War didn’t have any particular stance on whether guys hooked up with other guys, or girls with other girls.

“Weird…” Mandy muttered to herself, then immediately held both hands up. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that! Just didn’t think I’d ever hear of a god being so… chill.”

Who was she even talking to? She shook her head. Talking to herself was a bad habit, even if she knew for a fact there wasn’t anybody within earshot. Not even the soldier with the dog ears. That thought brought her back around to what else she’d learned. According to what Brother Eugene had said, humans were the Goddess of Love and War’s personal favorite out of the many, many races across the world of Oceanus, above the elves and orcs and dwarves and trolls and goblins. And especially above the beastkin, who were apparently the result of some kind of magical cataclysm thousands of years in the past, which they were responsible for, which explained his particular attitude towards them, one she assumed was shared by everyone in the Empire to some degree.

Mandy thought it was a little… weird that a goddess who didn’t seem to care about who fucked who would care about race or species, but she supposed it was also weird she was in charge of both love and war anyway, so…

“Ugh, what else…” Mandy muttered, scratching at the sides of her head with both hands.

Oh, right, the way the Empire knew so much about exactly what the Goddess of Love and War wanted: The Empress, and the aspects. The Empire’s royal family had always touted that they were direct blood descendants of the goddess herself, a fact which was proven over six hundred years ago when the current Empress “ascended” in a way no member of the family had before or since, and went on to mold the Empire into the unstoppable juggernaut it was today. Since then, every handful of years, new members of the royal family would be declared to be living aspects of the goddess, like what the priest had mistaken for, and between them and the Empress, the Empire had developed their own bespoke understanding of how the goddess wanted the world to operate, which the rest of the world refused to accept. Mandy wanted to ask so much more, but she could tell that whole topic was a potential minefield for her, so she’d just acted completely unphased about the fact that in about a week she’d have to meet a family of aristocratic demigods that regularly gave birth to divine incarnations, and somehow successfully pass herself off as one of them.

At least she could comfort herself with the fact that she’d have seven days or so to fully prepare.

And lastly, there were the pirates. The topic Brother Eugene had been stuck on for almost fifteen minutes before she’d cut him off and kicked him out. Apparently, they weren’t just like ordinary Earth pirates, but rather an entire army of bloodthirsty, backstabbing, cowardly sea bandits who’d been a continuous thorn in the Empire’s side for centuries, and they were everywhere. They’d attack Empire ships out of the blue and slaughter their crews, or capture supply ships heading towards other colonies and steal the supplies for themselves.

“At least that’s normal and easy to understand,” Mandy said, pushing herself to her feet. “Still, I wish I’d gotten a bit more about what all they actually believe in. Maybe I’ll try again later, and just hope I can keep him on track better...”

And now she needed to get ready to meet up with Captain Vittorio and Brother Eugene, and stand before the rest of the crew. Mandy had had pre-show jitters plenty of times before, but nothing like this. And yet, the show must go on!

Ugh.

Rolling her eyes at her own use of such a clichéd phrase, Mandy turned and scanned the captain's cabin. Usually, doing her pre-show makeup or going through her other routines was one of the ways she calmed herself down, but that didn't seem possible in her current condition.

“Wish I at least had a mirror,” Mandy said, sighing and placing a hand on her forehead. Then, she remembered she didn't need one.

“Oh, duh,” she said, turning to face one of the cabin walls and starting to concentrate. It was difficult, and a little disorienting, to try and narrow her shipwide sight to a single point of view while still seeing out of her projection at the same time, a bit like trying to walk while crossing your eyes. Eventually, she gave up on trying to equally split her attention between the two points, letting most of herself slip back into the boat while maintaining a thin thread of awareness to her body, and what she saw shocked her.

The young woman staring back at her looked like she'd already gone through an extensive makeup routine. Her face looked brushed smooth and completely free of blemishes, and her steely blue-gray eyes didn’t reflect an ounce of the exhaustion and stress and fear she felt. Her hair, blond with a bit of a natural curl to it, bounced slightly as she moved her head side to side, like it had been freshly washed and styled. She reached up, running her fingers through her hair, and watched as every lock fell back into perfect arrangement, framing her face and highlighting her natural beauty.

What's natural about this?

She dragged a thumb across her lips, and the red color that had appeared on them didn't so much as smudge. She rubbed at the corners of her eyes, and her eyeliner didn't budge a single inch. Her brow furrowed. Something she'd been doing a lot, which her mother had warned her away from, telling her it'd give her forehead creases, but looking at her skin now, she couldn't imagine it ever looking anything but perfect. Except that little spot on her cheek…

Alarmed, she turned her head sharply to the right, reaching up to feel around her left ear. She'd had a miniscule mole there since birth, just ever so slightly too far off her cheek to count as a traditional beauty mark, so she'd always covered it and drawn another on just below her eye.

Her fingers passed over flawless skin under her ear, and the mark on her cheek seemed to stand out all the more prominently.

Now that she was aware of it, she searched her face for any more of the other tiny, miniscule imperfections she'd become intimately aware of over the course of a life spent looking at her own reflection, and found none of them.

As she was still reeling from her discovery, her eyes fell on her clothes, a simple pink crop tee and jeans, which now looked comically plain compared to her almost otherworldly appearance, and she frowned.

Should've worn more red.

The thought came from… somewhere, and she watched with numb, muted surprise as the hue of her shirt shifted before her very eyes, the pink darkening to a more vibrant, cherry red.

The young woman’s eyes locked onto the innocuous section of wall through which she was observing herself, and felt a tidal wave of questions crash into her mind.

Had she done this to herself? How? Could she undo it? How well did she really know her own face, actually? How long would she remember what she was supposed to look like before she started making mistakes? Would she turn to look at herself one day and see a complete stranger? Fuck that, how long was she even supposed to be here? If this was a dream, shouldn't she wake up soon? Could she even go home?

On and on the questions came, until Mandy pulled herself even further out of her body, into the ship. She watched, detached, as tears welled up in her own eyes, as her body sank to the floor on her knees, one hand over her mouth and one hand knotted in her perfectly styled hair, letting out choked sobs that even now she struggled to suppress. There was only a thin thread of her awareness still connected to the projection, but through it all those emotions streamed like a raging river. She wanted to go home. She didn’t want to be here, she didn't want to be a fucking boat, and she didn’t want to have to pretend to be some goddess’ avatar to a bunch of scary weirdos in order to save her life. She wished she weren’t alone, that some of her friends were here with her. She even wished Morgan were here—although Mandy was probably the last person she’d ever want to see—because she’d probably know what to do.

She wished—

There was a soft pair of knocks at the door.

“Lady Scarlett?”

Mandy’s body jerked, then flickered and disappeared, like a lightbulb going out. Her awareness expanded to cover the entirety of the ship again, and she saw the scrawny dog-eared soldier standing outside the captain’s quarters. A quick check of the upper decks and she saw Brother Eugene and Captain Vittorio standing at the helm, talking quietly, while the rest of the crew were last minute wrap-up on the process of making her ready to sail, checking and rechecking knots all up and down the deck.

Right, they were all ready to go, and waiting on her.

With her projection dismissed and her mind back in the ship, Mandy didn’t suddenly stop feeling the overwhelming hurricane of emotions that raged inside her, but now she lacked the faculties for them to manifest through. She tried to take a deep breath, to calm herself, and several of the sailors looked up curiously as the hull of the ship gave an almost imperceptible groan. Several of the long lines of rope that crisscrossed the air between the deck and her masts rocked and swayed, like they were caught in a sudden gust, and down in the captain's quarters, one of the wooden chairs tipped over and hit the floor.

Before the dog-man could raise his fist to knock again, the door swung open on its own, and Mandy stepped out, smirking at the surprise evident on the young sailor’s face. Her eyes were no longer red and puffy, and her makeup was once again pristine. Her hair now looked fresh out of the salon, done up in a huge fluffy mass of dramatic curls that bounced like tightly coiled springs as she walked, held out of her eyes by a red band. Her t-shirt and jeans were gone, replaced by a deceptively simple red dress with black trim, narrow shoulders, a high waist, and an ankle-length skirt that was cut and stitched to form natural-looking ruffles that resembled the petals of a rose. Over the dress, she wore a cropped red leather jacket with large gold fastenings, and sleeves that ended just above her elbows. Lastly, she’d upgraded her shoes to a pair of knee-high boots that matched her dress.

Mandy grinned with satisfaction as the dog-eared man’s jaw actually dropped, but, to his credit, he recovered quickly, snapping to attention and raising his arm to give her the Empire’s version of a salute, holding his fist to the center of his chest, over his heart.

“L-Lady Scarlett,” the young man stammered. “They’re ready for you on deck!”

“Ah, my apologies,” Mandy said as she emerged fully into the small sitting room that separated the captain’s quarters from the main deck, the door closing itself behind her. “I just finished getting myself ready. Lead the way… ah, I don’t believe I caught your name?”

“Chase! Private Chase!” he announced with obvious over-eagerness. Mandy thought she even saw his tail start to twitch.

“Chase? Is that your first name, or your last name?” Mandy asked curiously, and Chase’s enthusiasm flagged noticeably, one of his ears listing to the side.

“It’s, uh, just Chase, my lady,” Chase said, shaking his head. “Haven’t got a family name, on account of I haven’t got a family, really.”

Around them, the hull of the ship creaked, like an old house settling in the night. Mandy maintained her pleasant, mildly-surprised smile.

“I see,” she said, reaching out to lightly tap the arm he still had raised in salute, urging him to finally lower it. “Well, Chase, would you please lead the way?”

Swallowing audibly, Chase nodded and turned, marching stiffly towards the set of double doors that opened out onto the main deck. Mandy squared her shoulders, raised her head high, and followed him out, satisfied by the sound of her new boots upon the floorboards. She let Chase open the doors, then smiled at him as he stood aside to let her out first.

Nice to know someone on this ship knows how to treat a lady.

Emerging out into the early morning sunlight, Mandy shielded her eyes (unnecessarily) while the assembled rows of sailors in red saluted her. Oh yes, this she could get used to.

Mandy turned and ascended up one of two slightly curled staircases that led up to the helm, where Captain Vittorio and Brother Eugene waited, along with a few more of the rank and file soldiers.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, gentlemen,” Mandy said brightly, savoring the appraising looks she got from the pair.

“Not at all,” Brother Eugene fawned, somewhat predictably, bowing his head to her. “And might I say, your new attire cuts a very… striking figure, wouldn't you agree, Captain?”

“It's certainly an upgrade from that odd garb you appeared in,” Captain Vittorio said, his tone neutral. Mandy felt like that was definitely progress, and gave the captain a smile.

“Thank you, Captain, Brother Eugene,” Mandy said, turning towards the lower deck, crossing her arms behind her back. “Well, I'm ready to go whenever you are.”

“Ah, I should entreat the goddess for a blessing,” Brother Eugene offered, stepping forward and raising a hand. “As is customary at the start of a journey.”

“With all due respect, Brother Eugene,” Mandy said, turning and giving the man a smirk. “I don't think this boat can get any more blessed.”

While the priest looked on in bewilderment, Captain Vittorio let out a sudden bark of laughter, stepping towards the railing that overlooked the deck.

“On that, we agree, Lady Scarlett,” Captain Vittorio said over his shoulder, chuckling once more before hardening his face into a stone mask of professionalism and facing the patiently waiting sailors. “All hands! Attention!”

The twin rows of soldiers all turned in unison towards the helm, thumping their fists against their chests in another salute. Only with the help of her omnidirectional vision of anything aboard was Mandy able to see the smile that played across Captain Vittorio’s face at the sight.

“Cast off the mooring lines, and set those sails. Tide mages, take your positions, I want us out of the bay and on our way up the coast within the hour!”

With a collective chorus of “Aye-aye, sir!” the assembled soldiers exploded into action, and Mandy looked on in genuine awe as a dozen tasks were carried out in a perfectly choreographed sequence. The ropes that kept her secured in place were loosened and tossed back onto the dock, and a quartet of soldiers whose uniforms were differentiated from the others by the addition of some blue trim around the sleeves and collar took up positions at the furthest four corners of the ship, two in the front and two up in the helm with Mandy and the others.

A chorus of call and returns were exchanged between the captain, an officer down on the deck, and the rest of the crew, but Mandy’s ears only perked up when Captain Vittorio turned to his left, addressing one of the “tidal mages.”

“Begin casting. Guide us out slowly until we get clear of the lighthouse.”

“Aye, sir,” the other man said, holding one of his hands into the air and lifting a metal whistle to his mouth. He blew two sharp tweets and the other three mages raised their hands, and the first man shouted, “Mages, ready! And… cast!”

Another blast of the whistle and, in unison, all four of them called out the words “Tide Control!” and thrust their hands out over the railing.

Before Mandy could think about asking what was happening, she felt the water move beneath her, shifting and pulling, lifting her slightly and sending her gliding out of her space between the docks. It was… dizzying, and distinctly odd, to feel her body, her real body, being moved and manipulated entirely on someone else’s power, or in this case several someones. In an inversion of her earlier situation, Mandy had to pool all but the bare minimum of her attention into her projection in order to not get lost in the whirlwind of activity going on aboard her. That only made her more aware of how her heartbeat was quickening, becoming faster and faster as they neared the exit of the bay.

“Are you alright, Lady Scarlett?” Brother Eugene asked.

“Ah… uh, yes, captain, I’m…” Mandy trailed off. The lead mage had placed the whistle in his mouth again, and before she found her words again, he blew three long notes.

On cue, the first of her sails were unfurled, and Mandy felt her breath hitch as they immediately caught the wind blowing in from the south. The canvas billowed, and to Mandy it felt like taking the biggest, deepest breath of her life. The ship lurched, and she could feel herself picking up speed. Again, her projection winked out, and suddenly all Mandy could feel was the sensation of her body slicing through the water, and her momentum building as more of her sails were let out to catch more of the wind, driving her forward faster and faster.

In that moment, Mandy forgot to feel anything but pure and undiluted elation, as if she had simply outrun all her anxieties and fears. She could still feel them, of course, trailing behind in her wake, and knew they would eventually catch up with her again, but for now…

For now, nothing could catch her.

When Mandy finally rematerialized up in the helm, the sun had moved a significant distance across the sky, and now hung almost directly overhead, the coastal town they’d set sail from nowhere in sight.

“Hoo…” Mandy took in a deep breath through her nose and let it out slowly, standing on the deck with her hands on her hips, just taking a moment to reacquaint herself with being a person, with arms and legs and a face, instead of just a boat going really really fast. She’d heard about “runner's high”—a sense of euphoria that comes after intense exercise—before, mostly from Chad or Morgan, and imagined what she was feeling now was something similar, but multiplied by, like, a hundred.

“Welcome back, my lady,” Captain Vittorio remarked from his position behind the wheel, and Mandy turned to him, unable to hide an exuberant smile.

“I never left, captain,” Mandy said, taking in another deep breath and letting out a satisfied sigh. “I just wanted to be able to fully appreciate the voyage for a bit. It is… quite spectacular.”

“I can only imagine,” Captain Vittorio said with a wry chuckle. “For a sailor, there is no feeling quite like the wind in one’s hair and the spray on one’s face. I’ve always appreciated the sensation of speed, and the sense of freedom that comes from having the horizon stretching out before me, but to actually be the vessel must be something else entirely.”

“Yes! Freedom! That’s exactly what it feels like!” Mandy said, clenching her hands into fists in front of her and actually laughing. She thought she knew what freedom felt like before, like the birthday when she’d gotten her first car (and after she finally passed her driving test) but cruising around her small slice of suburbia with the top down couldn’t hold a candle to what she’d spent the last few hours experiencing. When she first heard that their trip to the capital would take a whole week, Mandy had been dreading being utterly bored the entire way. Silly, she knew, when she’d woken up in a bizarre, unfamiliar world out of some fantasy book as some kind of sapient boat, but she’d worried nonetheless. Now, she was almost wishing the trip were a little longer, just so she could enjoy this carefree feeling for as long as possible before having to stop and dock and meet a bunch of royal brats who would probably see through her deception immediately.

Shoving those thoughts off to the far corners of her mind, Mandy cleared her throat and stepped up to the railing, gazing at the distant landmass and the coastline that they were currently following.

“So, how far have we made it, would you say?” Mandy asked while taking in the view. She hadn't exactly been blind while she was relishing the sense of speed, but her vision had been… narrowed, caring only for what was directly ahead of her. Now, she intended to fully appreciate the view.

“We've been keeping a steady pace since we left Strom’s Landing, about three hours ago,” Captain Vittorio said, glancing down at what Mandy would have called a pocket watch, if it weren’t the size of a CD player. She reeled slightly at just how much time she’d lost, although she didn't let it show on her face. “Considering the… your top speed, we should be two dozen miles out by now, give or take.”

“And how far is it to the capital?” Mandy asked, looking back over her shoulder.

“It varies, depending on Fulgar's movement,” Captain Vittorio said. “At full length, Strom’s Landing is about a thousand nautical miles from the capital, but fortunately for us, she's just begun to turn southward again, which means we'll actually be heading towards each other. Might shave even more time than I thought off my estimates.”

Mandy nodded along, not letting her confusion show. She could understand, individually, every word that the captain had said, but some of those statements didn't make sense. Fulgar was the island, she knew that, but it had… turned? And it was heading towards them? Was the island actually mobile in some way or was this the captain trying to trick her? That probably warranted looking into later.

Turning back to the coastline, Mandy let her elbows rest on the railing. The scenery really was magnificent; she could see a small town, or perhaps a large village, built up along the shoreline and sprawling out into the lush countryside behind it. She could make out farmlands, and forests beyond, and an undulating crest of mountains that seemed to stretch on forever in both directions, as far as Mandy could see.

At the sound of boots on the stairs, Mandy turned, although she already knew who was coming. It was one of the four soldiers with blue-trimmed uniforms, one of the “mages.”

“Captain,” the soldier said by way of greeting, stepping off the landing and giving a salute. When she spotted Mandy there, she turned and inclined her head towards her as well. “Lady Scarlett. Lieutenant Cooper, reporting.”

“At ease, Lieutenant,” Captain Vittorio said, and the woman’s stance relaxed fractionally. “Report.”

“Aye sir. Reporting mana reserves of myself and the other casters fully replenished, ahead of schedule,” the woman explained, her delivery steady and efficient. “Dietrich suspects it may be a result of some”—her eyes flicked briefly over to Mandy, then back again—“unique properties the ship has gained as a result of the blessing.”

“Interesting, but not surprising,” Captain Vittorio said, also giving Mandy a much less subtle glance. “I assume there’s no danger to yourselves or the rest of us aboard?”

“We’ll need a bit more time to study the phenomenon more thoroughly, but early tests point to that being the case, yes,” Cooper said. “It’s not like a wound or a mana storm; the ship isn’t pelting us with highly concentrated ambient mana, so there’s no danger of mana sickness. Rather, some mechanism of being in contact with the ship itself seems to accelerate natural mana regeneration.”

“Mmh, I see. Keep me updated as you learn more,” Captain Vittorio said, a thoughtful look in his eye. “Dismissed.”

Cooper nodded and turned on her heels, but Mandy spoke up before she could start back down the stairs.

“So you’re a ‘mage,’ huh?” she asked, and Cooper froze in her tracks. Turning back around, she glanced nervously at Captain Vittorio, before turning to Mandy and nodding her head.

“That’s correct, my lady,” Cooper said, once again standing stiff and straight, like her spine had been replaced by a metal pole. “But I assure you, my allegiance has always and will always be to the Empire.”

Hmm. There was definitely some context behind that assurance that Mandy wasn’t getting, but she thought she might be able to draw it.

“Is that so?” Mandy asked, leaning ever so slightly harder on the last word while tilting her head a few degrees to the side, and giving the woman a tiny little smile.

It worked even better than she could’ve imagined, as Cooper actually took a step back, catching herself and snapping back to attention, slamming her fist against her chest in salute.

“Y-yes, my lady! I swear it! I learned everything I know from my instructors and official Empire-sanctioned sources! I would sooner die than cast heretical magics!”

“Easy, easy,” Mandy said, raising her hands and patting the air like she was putting out a fire. “I wasn’t questioning your loyalty, I was merely curious. I’ve never actually met a mage, you understand?”

That seemed to calm Lieutenant Cooper somewhat, and though she didn’t stop looking like a deer in headlights, she did nod and step forward again, returning to her equivalent of “relaxed.”

“My apologies, Lady Scarlett. Myself and the other mages would be happy to answer any questions you have,” Cooper said stiffly, and Mandy gave her a much less loaded smile.

“I will definitely take you up on that sometime,” Mandy said, crossing her arms behind her back again. It really was such a powerful way to stand, she couldn’t get enough of it. “But I understand you’ve got work to get back to now, so I won’t keep you any longer. On your way, then.”

“T-thank you, my lady,” Cooper said with obvious relief. She bowed her head, saluted, and turned back to the stairs, taking them with a little more haste than Mandy suspected she usually would. She watched her go for a moment, until Captain Vittorio let out a low chuckle, and she turned to look at him.

“You’ll have to forgive the crew if they remain jumpy around you for the duration of the trip,” Captain Vittorio said, glancing at his not-pocket-watch and making some minor adjustment to the wheel. “For most of them, having you around must feel like having a member of the royal family turn up for dinner unannounced. Myself included, I must admit. I know you instructed me to not treat you so formally, but it is difficult not to be… in awe of your presence, my lady.”

“You flatter me, Captain,” Mandy said, raising a hand to her mouth and letting out a demure giggle. “It is not my intention to frighten your crew. Quite the opposite, in fact. If possible, I would like to spend some time during the trip getting to know them better, so that they may come to see me as a… comforting presence, rather than an unsettling one.”

Mandy still didn’t know what awaited her in the capital, but she would feel better about facing it with a whole crew of people already won over to her side at her back.

(Continued in Part 2)