Kaleb, Morgan, Iridia and her talking shield ventured into the captain's quarters after they had discussed Flencer's incredulous revelations.

Iridia had taken it with some shock, the fact the person she thought had come to be trusted was a duplicitous liar had rocked her self sense of growth. She doubted her progress concerning the shackles of naivety.

“An Elf he says?” Captain Wurtheim chuckled and wiped his dirty face with a filthy rag while sinking into a rickety chair; it creaked in protest as he leaned back.

Morgan scratched his head, “Flencer is certainly no Elf.”

“Aye.” Wurtheim nodded slowly, “Right you are lad, the sea air does it you know.”

Kaleb took a seat upon an equally whiny chair, neither was made for the heft of Kaleb and the captain, like all things; they endured, it seemed. “What were those mechanical men?” He rubbed his scruffy beard in ponderance, his question pulling away from the Flencer situation strategically.

Wurtheim delayed his answer by way of lighting a cracked wooden pipe, he took a few puffs and let the smoke sail away through the cracks into the deck above. He cleared his throat. “Well, not much is known–”

“I seem to be getting that answer a lot, how long have they been about?”

“As long as I remember, not nearly as aggressive as of late mind you, probably that business back on Empire lands, eh?”

Kaleb looked at Iridia who had joined his flank, she leaned forward and pressed her hands on his desk. “You said you deal with Elves, what of them, do you speak with them?”

“Nope, I only drop people off and pick up the cargo they leave on the foggy coast.”

“You’ve never met an Elf?” Morgan interjected.

“Nay, lad, secretive types.”

Iridia stood straight and gave her compatriots a look of concern.

Wurtheim let out a raspy chuckle after another suckle of his pipe, “Ye know, that half man ain’t the first to be claiming he’s Elvish.”

“Go on.”

“Aye, had a few, I think it’s like, eh, you know, a status thing, say you’re an Elf and get certain benefits…from those who believe your tale.”

“How many have you handled?” Iridia leaned on the desk again.

“I’d say a good dozen over the years, never see ‘em once I drop ‘em off…heh, they probably end up in a ditch somewhere.”

Kaleb drummed his fingers on the desk, lips pouting in thought. “What of a war between Man, Orc and Elves?”

Wurtheim raised both eyebrows. “When did this war happen?”

“I believe around five thousand years ago.”

He let out one of those croaky chuckles, “Not a mention, from any man, Elf or Orc, sounds like a load of rubbish.”

The shield hummed wistfully, “War, there was a war, the forgotten war, I wrote many songs detailing the happenings.”

The party turned to the shield.

“What songs?” Iridia probed.

“I forgot.”

Kaleb tutted and shook his head.

“Well don’t you tut at me you big oaf, and don’t you touch me, don’t want to be lost at the bottom of the ocean like that oversized nail basher of yours.”

Kaleb sneered and considered the latter for the briefest of moments before tempering his rising fury. “A war between Man and Elf seems pretty hard to forget.”

“Not when it wants you to forget.”

“When what wants you to forget!” Kaleb had swivelled the chair around to face the shield that was propped against the wall.

Wurtheim had raised to peer curiously.

“The bloody Demon you simpleton, it makes everyone forget everything. Tell me, Oh great Paladin Kaleb, Climber of Poles, Loser of Hammers; how long has the empire stood?”

Everyone in the room paused, the insults were washed away from Kaleb's thoughts as the question posed a far greater riddle.

“You don’t know. Because no one knows. Tell me, all of you, what is the name of the lands the Imperium controls?”

The next question stunned each one of them. In all this time they had not seen a map, read a book or even heard word of the name of their lands. Only names of places that had been dotted sparsely about their internal compass.

“Well, there’s Angelspree…and the great city of spires…” Morgan tried his best, but could not think of the name.

Kaleb rubbed his face hurriedly. “How long has the Demon been fraying at our memories?”

“Thousands of years, slowly it has scratched away the blood of the people.” The shield wobbled. “I know the way to the Elves–”

“Was the land connected? Was there always a sea between our worlds?” Kaleb barked the questions at the bard.

The shield sat silently for a minute, only releasing a faint glow as it appeared to ponder. “No, once a man could walk betwixt the lands.”

“So Flencer was telling the truth?” Morgan looked at Kaleb.

“No, no he might have known that, doesn’t mean he is telling the truth,” Iridia said with a raised finger. She was dutiful in her scepticism by now and did not want to let a single word of a fable slip through the fragile bars of her psyche.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

“Where did you come from, Stringlius?” Kaleb said.

“Old new town, west of Cama–”

“No, how did you end up in Brimshire?”

“Ah, why I awoke there.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I was in service to some quester, his name was Maxim or something. Then, I was bagged up, I meditated and I awoke in the shop.”

“How long did you meditate for?”

“A day or two.”

Kaleb stroked his beard. “The shield was placed here for us to find.”

“By who?” Said Iridia.

“It’s a secret,” Morgan replied, “Everything has been done in the shadows, to hide from the Demon.”

“Whoever it was I both loathe and love them.”

Morgan looked at Kaleb. “Esme…”

Kaleb nodded. “I suspect it was her doing, she should be on this quest, not I.”

Wurtheim sucked his pipe, “Come now, lad…you’ve gotten this far, it all seems big stuff this, are we all going to die or something?”

Iridia smirked, “Probably.”

“Forgive me for saying, Kaleb…” Wurtheim smiled, “Your ignorance was probably a gift.”

The shield hooted, “Right you are, Captain, how could the demon have suspected a couple of bumbling Zaleians to be of any concern?”

Wurtheim set his pipe down, “What the shield said, eh…hah! You’re invisible, hm? What an advantage.”

Kaleb rolled his eyes, “Not anymore, we are known to the Demon, and now we have a Dwarf who has lost his mind.”

“What if he’s telling the truth?” Wurtheim lowered his head and raised his eyebrows.

“That he’s a bloody Elf?”

“Aye, none of us ‘ave seen one, he knew about the land being joined, and the war, all confirmed by that talking disc.”

“I’m a bard, thank you.”

“I ain’t heard no songs from ye.”

“Thank the divine,” said Kaleb.

Wurtheim sat down slowly and patted his round tummy. “Well, we have one more stop before we reach the Foglands, good ol’ Quarter Way Wills.”

“Why?”

“Supplies.”

“Why’s it called that?” Morgan added.

“I don’t bloody know!” Wurtheim shook his head, “We should be there in a day, we’ll get supplies and I’ll have you at the Foglands in a few weeks, our journey is coming to an end.”

“You must wait for us to return, remember.”

“You’ll have two months to do what you need to do, Paladin, then our ship will leave the shores.”

“You’ll be returning to your doom.”

“I’ve heard that many times.”

***

Kaleb tossed in his head, trying to remember things, anything, simple stuff about the city, lands and the history of Zale. He could only remember what he had been told and it was all so simple. Zeth had made mention back at the outskirts of Brimshire, a knowledge-sapping Demon.

Iridia and Morgan shared a cabin now, they held hands in the quarters, Iridia was saddened.

“My love…” Morgan had never called her this name outside of their own company before. “Is everything well?”

“No.”

“What can I do?”

Iridia looked up at Morgan's face. “Kaleb was right. I am a child, I am naive. I cannot be like that anymore.”

“No, no you’re sti—”

“I am, Morgan, this is what we are doing, it’s naive too.”

“How do you mean?” Morgan leaned back but kept his hands on Irdias.

She looked up at him and slid her hands free of his. “We cannot make this dance anymore, I cannot let another slip through into my mind.”

“Iridia, I love you.”

“I love you too, Morgan. Our quest and my duty go above this, I cannot risk you and fall pray to my selfish desires.”

The wind rattled the glass on the boat and the waves continued to rock the cabin gently. Iridia lay down on her side and faced away from Morgan. “You need to leave my cabin, you may not return.” She closed her eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry I gave you this hope.”

Morgan opened his mouth to speak but could only murmur a sound. His chin clenched and he stood, gathering his things and leaving to join Kaleb's cabin.

Kaleb was trying to get to sleep and quickly tossed as his cabin door creaked open. “Who’s that?”

“Me,” Morgan said.

“Oh, what do you want? I am trying to sleep.”

“I’m bunking with you.”

“Hm, you and Iridia fallen out?” Kaleb rolled back over and muttered “Bloody kids and their puppy love.”

He sighed and set out his thing beside his bed, “Not quite, she has realised the folly of our love.”

“Good.”

“I have lost my true love.”

Kaleb scrunched his eyes shut, trying to close out Morgan's whinging. “I lost my hammer, sadness is best observed in silence.”

“How did you handle losing your love, Kaleb?”

Kaleb’s face was illuminated with a hot redness, “I cut her head off.”

“The Emperor told you to do this, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Did you ever meet him?”

“No.”

“Do you think he exists?”

Kaleb was about to rebuke Morgan for his incessant nagging but was taken by a moment of clarity. “I don’t know.”

“You never answered my question, how did you handle losing your love?”

Kaleb grunted and turned over to face the pathetic Morgan as he clambered into his cot. “I minded my own business and didn’t levy my woes on the people around me.”

“Perhaps you did.”

“How so?” Kaleb said with gritted teeth.

Morgan was no longer the simple servant boy he once was, his heroics and effort had made him an equal in the party, almost, as though he was not free of Kaleb’s ire. “Well, the way you treated people.”

“I treated people exactly how they deserved.”

“You were a tad harsh, in your time.”

“Corruption deserves no mercy.” Kaleb tried to cling to that line, though the label of corruption was always applied rather liberally amongst the many wrongdoers of the citizenry, even though he generally dealt with Paladins and higher-up types.

“You once had a man arrested for walking his cat by a leash as if one would with a dog.”

“It was for a week.”

“What was his crime though?”

“Offending my sensibilities.”

“Well–”

“I can see why Iridia cast you out, boy, you’re a plague on the ears!”

The cabin fell silent, Morgan lay down quietly and rolled away to face the lonely wall of the boarded room. “Do you think our quest will be successful?”

“I do hope so.” Kaleb’s voice had softened, a whisper of an apology as good as Morgan might get for his outburst.

“What shall we do with Flencer?”

“I have not decided, perhaps we leave him at the port, if he is Demonic then his presence may be a liability.”

“What if his presence is helpful? He mentioned you could sacrifice him to allow passage into the Elven city?”

Kaleb rolled away to face his wall and pulled the blankets about him tighter, his desperation for sleep growing. The pain of his recent foray was still a tingle, not usual, the connection between himself and the Divine Heart was slipping. The fear that danced on his mind and his darkened mindset may be the cause, or worse, the Demon was strangling the great Temple from below.

“Well?”

“Go to sleep Morgan, I have much to think on, find a cure for your love sickness at the rim of a bottle or perhaps a fine lady at the Quarter Way Wills.”

“A fine lady?”

“A whore.”

The cabin went silent once more and they both closed their eyes to attempt sleep.