Call it ironic, but the ocean is really irritating me. I used to find mental refuge in it but recently this has just been a very big nuisance; the incessant rocking and bumping of the sea water, the increase of pirate attacks I’ve noticed… I seemed to get more annoyed with it after they took my Water away… or, you know, being shot at by cannons every couple hours because someone thinks you have some riches on you is only a wee bit annoying. But if that is somehow not the case, I wonder if wizards’ minds are influenced by what our ‘first mind’ is, as Pops calls it. Or is it the other way around? That seems to hold true when it comes to dad and Wind; changing from the most careless, laidback man you’ve ever seen to a raging drunk intoxicated by his own– craze? Pride? Probably both, honestly. Then again, he started using Gravity, too. He never explained how that happened exactly. He said it was a ‘mutation’ but when I told Goatbeard about that he said that it’s very unlikely someone just manifests a magic on the level of Gravity since that’s a—an, err, ‘Lost’... no, ‘Ancient’ magic? I can’t seem to remember. I don’t know what those are supposed to mean anyways. What was I saying? Emotions… feelings… minds… Minds! Yeah, so in conclusion it seems Pops is just built weird.

But here’s a combination that may disprove that theory - Pyrei with Light. Her cold verbalization and straight-to-the-point mannerism doesn’t really seem to fit the energetic, happy-go-lucky nature of Light at all. I get that she’s only like that when we’re around unknown people, but that ain't sayin’ she really gets uppity when she's with familiars. I don’t know if that’s how she really is or if it’s her sticking to that revelation about wanting to follow in Goatbeard’s steps for some reason. She’s fond of his stoicism and for the life of me I can’t understand why. Maybe it’s a tactic - the cynicism in public is smart. It’s a good way to ward off people from asking too many questions, thus keeping word of the Undergrowth to a minimum, don't want to make tracking them even more irritating and slow. Then maybe, that coldness may be fine. She does at least smile when away from the public sphere – at least that's something nice to see during these asscheek times. I hope she's managing to find some sort of mind-stimulating thing to do on that remote island. I can't imagine the boredom – even for her.

Quite often I question if I should even be around for this type of task. Before they took my Water magic away, I wasn’t even that good with it. It didn’t hit too hard, I couldn’t really use it for too long. I can’t recall when I actually used it seriously. I guess I did that hammer thing when I was fighting with Pops who knows how long ago, but that was really just to show off I could make a weapon with it. I wonder how it stayed together as a whole piece instead of just breaking up because, well, it was made of water. Or, well, in that case, Water… Water Magic. I suppose that there’s no point in lingering on it – the thing didn’t last very long since I wasn’t able to sustain its form with the drain it was taking on me. I shouldn’t look back on that in a sour light - at least I could actually use magic unlike now with this sludge they cursed me with. I can barely make a puddle of this dark sticky shit. I do spit at Goatbeard a lot, but I should be more appreciative. Him and Pyrei both, really. I’ve noticed that I’ve started using bigger words since meeting Pyrei. Like detractor, vapid, zestless or retrospect, austerity. Much of them seem to be used in negative connotations more often than not, but I don’t really end up having to use them ever. Thankfully not since I forget what they mean half the time.

Who was I talking about? Oh right, Goatbeard. While shitting on him is fun, I think I should cool it some. Emphasis on some. He’s been able to help me be able to at least summon something even without even being a spell flinger himself. What did they call it? Blackwater? Not a very creative name – not very accurate considering its viscous nature either. I’m sure the others had cooler names. I don’t remember them, but one I do vividly was from that buff guy, Yujo. His weird Earth was pretty gruesome, as was he. It, like, melted their skin or something crazy. Then he grabbed some of them by the skulls and crushed their heads on the ground in a very… It makes my skin crawl just by thinking about it. He was so cool - a literal monster. I see why they had that inhibitor chain thing around his neck when he was under their control… such a crazy device. I wonder what other shit the Penumbra has. That’s another reason why I should be more appreciative of Goatbeard. While I can’t use my spells like some sort of divine expert as Pyrei does, Yazzalo is pushing my physical barriers. I hope to reach the level of Yujo someday. Maybe I’m not meant to be a wizard and it kinda just slipped into my blood by mistake. Is my magic weaker because of the giant blood I got from Zaltanya? Err, mom–mother? Ma? Whatever, it’s not like I met her. From how Pops spoke about her, she was magicless yet seemed to be an army her lonesome. Does gian– ‘Vastus’ blood make my magic weaker? Does it make one physicallyphysically more capable… Am I also more prone to violence?

I don’t think I’m a violent person, but I still do think about what I did to that guy. I don’t feel bad about it, not one bit. That’s not the problem - that son of a bitch deserved every bit of agony that went his way for what he did to Justean - but the burst of unfettered rage itself makes me question myself quite often: Was it me or was it my blood? Am I a normal guy or am I actually a terrible deviant? Did I only do that because of the evil act he committed? Is this just me in denial of my true nature? Or is that something inherited from Pops’s crazy ways? A mix of that and vastus blood? Who knows… I’m just getting sick and tired of all this shit. Too much to worry about, too much to do. I do still want to show that I can protect my people around Auxuth without the Navy’s help but goddamn I feel like I haven’t gotten anywhere. What have I done in, what, a year’s time? Killed an authority figure, had to have another cover that up for me with a lie, get flung around by some crazy guy in a deer's head and only now am I getting real training, even if it is just me getting beat up. I guess that’s the one glimpse of light in this very long and dark tunnel. Should I visit Valin too? No, that would be stupid. Cyro was already put in a very tough spot to cover up – not that I particularly care about the G.N’s opinion of me. Then again, I can’t deny that I don’t sometimes think about whether that was enough to quell the Grand Navy’s suspicions. Regardless, it would be very stupid to show up at a random outpost. Who’s to say that Valin would happen to be at that specific one? Holy hell, my mind is racing right now… What was I thinking about earlier? Yazzalo’s teachings… The magic? Oh yeah, right.

This useless, slimy sludge thing I have. I don’t know how they managed to do that. Can people make magic? Is that a thing? Or am I naive to believe that whoever… they be, are humans? I mean, what else would they be? Most importantly is how did they force it onto the others and I? Well, except for Pyrei. It is weird how her Light seems to be arbitrary in whether it’s white or purple, though. That might be an effect of them trying to darken… shade… Penumbrafy? Err, trying to force Light into a darker variant. Or maybe it was always like that. They managed to do it with Yujo’s Earth and… huh. I don’t think the weird little man that was with him had an odd change. I was out cold for much of that, so maybe I missed something. I don’t believe in fairytales but I’m pretty sure Yujo has an elf following him around. I feel like I’m missing something, er– forgetting someone… There was Light - Pyrei, Earth - Yujo, Fire - the weird bald elf, Water - me… Lightning and Wind. Pops told me about those ‘seven bases’ before, but I don’t know what he meant by that. I’m pretty sure there are people throwing around more than that, I think. Anyways Lightning and Wind… I can’t put a face to Lightning at all but I do vaguely remember there at least being a body for the Wind Gate… what was it— who was it? Damn… Didn’t he just vanish after the whole ordeal? Was it a he? I think it was a girl, actually. Eh, whatever. I wonder why they didn’t have someone in the Lightning Gate. Now this one sounds much more familiar to me. Yeah, back at Goatbeard’s rocks! Pyrei said she spoke to someone and that guy encountered Klazza! There was something about him that I gained from the info Pyrei told us about him that shook me, what was it? I was pretty proud about putting that together and wanted to gloat over being that smart but Goatbeard started crying about a stench or whatever. Then I kind of just forgot. That seems to be the theme going on here.

This Lightning man, something I recognized about him… Yazzalo seemed to be taken back by Pyrei telling us that this guy crossed something. Some sea, come on think… The Black Sea? No – the Night Sea! That doesn’t sound right either, what did they say… Dark! The Dark Sea! Yeah, that thing. Never heard of it until then, but from how Goatbeard reacted to that claim of this guy crossing it, he seemed pretty surprised. Maybe I should go there sometime and see what’s up. But apparently that guy who crossed this ‘Dark Sea’ ran into Klazza and from what I can only guess resulted in Klazza losing that scuffle. That’s why Pyrei theorized we were being gathered to go after him as a group. Why not just find another Lightning wizard? Why would he want him specifically so mu– Storm! Yeah, that’s why! He’s the Storm! That’s what I put together before getting cut off! That guy had a crazy bounty! I wonder what he did? If he just met Pyrei and didn’t kill her, then I guess he isn’t some sort of tyrant. Or maybe killing some common folk wasn’t worth his time. She found him somewhere in Windview so he had a whole island to ravage or conquer if he wanted to, yet didn’t. Maybe he’s just fed up the Grand Navy too and did something just to specifically piss them off. If that’s the case he seems like a pretty cool man. Oddly enough, his poster didn’t have a picture of him. Why wouldn’t they do that? They had one for that one sunglass-donning dumbshit cheesing as if it was a celebratory portrait. Storm on the other hand was just a blue Lightning casting circle. And the bolt was very, very faint. Did they run out of ink when drawing it? Do they actually use ink for these things? I wonder if there’s Picture magic… I won’t dwell on how stupid of a question that was for too long.

My chest ached as the ship made a rough, sudden crash. I noticed the clouds above were moving much slower now, so I sat up and looked over the edge of this, honestly dilapidated, sailboat and before me I saw that sunny-shaded sand before me. A striking headache from the boat slamming onto the shore bounced around my head, but thankfully, I was just kicked back on the deck as the boat was drifting off, since it’s always a good idea to never pay attention to the steer when you’re sailing. I searched for the rundown infrastructure expecting it not to take long to realize if this actually is the precious little pearl of shit that is Auxuth. But I fell bewildered at stores and homes that weren’t half bad – a tall ask for Auxuth. And down a newly paved, seaside concrete walkway there was… a pier? Did I go to the wrong place? A pier at Auxuth? With traders actually unloading stuff at that? An idea came to me, one that would solve this confusion definitely. “If they are shipping stuff to and fro, there must be labels stating where the stuff is supposed to be shipped to,” I theorized as my legs began to carry me through the beach sediment with my feet able to breathe free. I really began to feel that Auxuthian chill as I stepped through the looser than usual sand. It felt so bizarre, like it wanted to swallow me… The unusual events turned me back to the ship much earlier than I wished to, but finding coddling security in my footwear was extremely appealing. So there I went, equipping these very large constructs called shoes before returning back to the shore on foot. I took a step and the sand rose just a bit around the perimeter of my left shoe. I brought my right foot forward and pressed it against the grainy floor only for the ravenous sand to engulf my ankle, triggering a confusingly angry yet concerned voice to wave over me, “Hey! What the hell are you doing?”

All I did was stare at the person for a moment. He was far away on the stone road near some of the buildings, so I don’t believe he was able to catch onto my annoyance. He began again, “Are you trying to get yourself killed? The sand on the shore is loose! It’s a moist season! You’re in quicksand, bud!”

He hurried to the cargo ship I was focused on earlier and soon a much smaller boat appeared from behind the much larger piece of floating wood, sailing to me. I can just pull myself back onto my boat… What’s he’s doing all this for? I wondered

“Hot damn you’re bigger up close! What’re you doing swimming in that muck?”

“Yeah it’s just an illusion, I’m actually pretty short,” I, unbeknownst to my conscience, rolled my eyes, “Why’d you row all the way over here? Could you not see the boat?”

“Well, obviously. I’m just making sure you aren’t pulling any tricks and trying to pirate our luggage but, uh, I’m not exactly sure if I could do anything against someone of your size… I mean, I’ll kill you if you try! Are— are you pirating?”

A smirk grew across my face. “Yeah, I’m going to tear off your jaw, kill your crewmen and then move onto the rest of the town. Then I’m taking all the shit on your frigate. You want a running head start?”

From the looks of it, the man’s heart was beginning to freeze and his skin was shrinking in his white tank top. His bald head began to shimmer from sweat born fear, heat or likely a hybrid of the two. “I’m just horse shitting you. Are you guys importing?”

“Oh thank the gods! I–yeah, you best know better, I’ll spare you a beating...” he pointed his thumb back to the frigate, “On that rundown sea drifter back there, we’ve just imported some goods from some seas away to this Auxuth place. Apparently this isn’t just a wilderness island as we previously thought. Now we’re taking back some lumber and petty items around to some of the local islands and hopefully a nearby navy outpost will be willing to trade with us. They usually pay handsomely if we can convince them!”

“Really? Huh, I didn’t think anyone would give a damn about here… well, that’s good for the people. Maybe they’re actually on their feet now. Perhaps even just a little bit less shit, too.”

The man raised a brow, oranged by the sun’s rays. “Hmm, hey have we actually met before? You seem familiar. I feel like I would’ve remembered someone of such freakish height quite vividly. Have you ever asked for a bottle of rum from me?”

“I don’t even know your name, sir.”

“Well— I don’t think we ever exchanged that,” he reached out his hand, “I’m Tyus, seafarer, trader, yadda yadda. You?”

A mirthless, “Zolton,” crawled from my lips. Tyus watched me for a moment before becoming visibly uneased. I didn’t figure out why until I realized how intently I was staring damn near into his soul. He retracted his arm and slowly moved back into his rowboat, assuring his eyes were always on me. He rowed rather swiftly considering how he needed paddles to move the floating piece of wood, but eventually he disappeared behind the frigate. “What a weirdo,” I muttered beneath my breath.

Instead of returning to the sailboat, I decided to return to the wet sand. I figured since my legs didn’t submerge much past the feet despite being so close to the ocean that further inland I were to move, the more firm the ground should become. I think the anchor should keep that old sailboat in place, the water isn’t all that rough right now. Odd considering the season…

Bolstered by a concoction of impatience and boldness, I stomped through the muck. As I previously thought, the shore lost its dampness as I approached the town. Dark gray sidewalks paved horizontally beside me. A line of buildings far different from what I recalled from my childhood, or really even just before I left a year or so ago, were… Well, they were actually there and not rundown garbage. Most were still in poor condition, but a good few were refurbished or freshly built entirely – enough to count on one hand. Lines of barrels, crates and shipmen both adding to and taking away from the island overran the shoreline, concrete walkway. It was a lot louder here than ever before, and while hustle and bustling environments usually drive me away, seeing it here of all places did crack a smile on my face.

Moving further into the guts of Auxuth, the joyful screaming of the ocean became less and less audible. Down here, it really began to remind me of home. Most things were just as garbage as I remember, the people seemed to be either sketchy, lifeless, addled by some drug… or even all the above. Home sweet home. I continued walking for a bit, fixated on the dirt road that was once stone pavement and forgetting the time in my mesmerization. Then shocking out of my daze was a tap on my left forearm. My attention ripped to it and I stared at an old woman. She was in a white shirt, grinning toothless. She looked into my eyes for a moment and then her wide smile fell into a frown. “Oh my apologies, deary. I thought you were someone else. I thought she finally came home... You do look familiar, though, hmm… Are you the one that keeps making all those loud bangs at night, hmm?”

“Loud bangs? No, I’m not. Who did you think I was?”

“Oh, just our great defender. We miss her. Many think she’s dead but I’m sure she’s out there somewhere. Perhaps defending the world now… I wish she would come home, at least just for a visit…”

Ah, okay… It’s weird how I feel bad for this old woman about this. I thought. “I hope she does too,” I replied.

“Hmmm, yes, yes. Are you sure that you aren’t the one making those loud pops and bangs? I’m fairly certain it is. Then again, you are a lot taller than before. Also a bit less aged in the face. Also a lot less screamy… Also much more polite. Where did your funny hat go? Oh, are you not the same person? You look a lot like him. Then again you are a lot taller than bef– oh, hello deary, how are you? You remind me of someone.”

Without another blink, I turned away from her and continued on my way. I saw some large trees in the distance, likely the redwood. I felt tingling in my chest with those towering plants in sight… why? This isn’t fear. Am I anxious? Over what? This is where I grew up. What’s the matter? Why would I be uneasy here? These reminiscent reverberation of these red leaves crunching beneath my feet, that cold empty air blowing against me, the large crater at the tree’s roots from my duel with Po— I was fixated onto the pit in the tree. It was small in comparison to the whole thing, and could accommodate a body much smaller than what I have now. I kneeled to its level and felt nostalgic warmth radiating in my chest. The grayness of my mind soon drowned in a vibrant pool and reemerged with some sort of life. I moved on from it down the dirt trail, almost passing the old dilapidated construct called a house. Strangely, no light creaked through any of the shelter’s many cracks. I pushed open the old door, fearing the hinges would soon give out with the witch-like whining it made as it slowly swung. I lowered my head instinctively until I remembered the much larger door frame.

Inside, it was dark and empty. There was a dead candle on the lone piece of furniture, a table, in the middle of the house. A black, dented pot sat next to it. I moved on to the second and final room, the one formerly “mine” and that oversized mattress was on the floor with an old tattered blanket on it – a fond time where everything was much more simple. Ignorance indeed brought me bliss. I then left the house and outside to where the air felt much better. I muttered beneath my breath, “Where’d that crazy man go? He might be off shooting— oh, I haven’t checked that basement… The basement that I was barely able to fit in when I was a kid.”

I traversed to the back of the place and found the double-doors blocking off the entrance to the intestines of this old development. Its locks were missing and only two holes were in place. I put a finger in the opening and pulled it up, lifting the right door. It was pitch black in thanks to the house shielding of the sun. “Pop? You in there? ” my voice echoed in the dark pit. No response.

“Is he out shooting? Yeah, that’s probably it. He likes to take his guns out to the deeper parts of the forest and just unload some bullets when he’s bored… but I think I would hear all those bangs and pops if he were. I doubt he’s actually walking around Auxuth, he never leaves the comfort of his home to go be around people… but then again, maybe he wanted to find something to do when I left. The fights me and him used to have were fun, before that he only told me how it was just dry on this dead island. That’s why he joined the Navy, just to find something to do— well, that and getting closer to Zaltanya. I guess that’s not all he meant by finding something to d–”

Some scuffling caught my attention. It came from behind, around the basement hole. The door shook and jittered before cracking open ever so slightly. And then, breaching from the abyss, a pink snout pierced the air. Soon, the wholly-haired creature exposed its true rodent-nature. It scratched around the dirt before turning up to my eyes, freezing, and turning back to the subterranean shed in frantic scurry. My clenching fists relaxed themselves and my chest loosened. “What happened? This house was always pretty rundown but there were at least those rusty ringed handles on the doors. Pops would never leave his stuff unlocked, but this beyond just that – it’s broken open. Was it raided? I should investigate the town. See if anyone knows anything.”

Now with the house behind me, I returned to the lengthy walk back to the main town. It felt longer than when I was leaving it and moving over to the house despite me moving faster with unease. I crossed into the dirt roads between the rundown, seemingly raid-struck architecture and was met with a familiar toothless grin. “Oh! Hello, young man!” That old bat said to me, “How was your trip? You seemed mad when you left. Did you enjoy the tow–”

“Where’s Balton? Do you know what happened to his home?”

She stared at me with storming perplexity in her eyes. She was gawking stupidly before uttering, “...Oh! Oh it’s you again! Oh silly me, I thought you were the Blitz Bullet! Hehe, my apologies, dear! Don’t you know you look very similar to him? Just a lot taller. Are you his daddy? I love it when families come together. It’s very warmin–”

“Do you know where he is?” I barged.

The elder paused with her eyes staring blankly. “Oh, yes, of course – He’s on the Earth! Just like you and me! What a nice Earth. Do you ever wonder how many Earths there are? Or what if this is the only one? Either way, I’m not all that bothered about it none. I like it here.”

I collided my left open palm with the opposing closed fist for a thunderous clap. I nearly roared at the woman, but restrained myself, miraculously. “Look, ma’am. Where exactly on this Earth did he go? Did he tell you?”

Her eyes locked onto a cloud for a moment. “Oh, yes! He went with the… yellow? I think a yellow haired man in a very large white shirt. It was a big shirt, the biggest shirt I’ve ever seen. Or was it a white cape? Maybe it was a cloak, hmm. I like cloaks. His own had some gold pads on the shoulders. It was nice to see. Mmm, yes.”

“Yellow haired man, large white cloak… Ah, hell… Did this white cloak have anything on it?”

“Oh of course. It had yellow hair. Oh, hehaha! My bad, dear. I meant his face had yellow hair on it. Mmm yes, yellow hair on his face and head. Head, face and head and face, hehe. Hair on me head, hair on me face! Hehe! Oh, yes the cloak. Oh yes, the back of it had an odd design on it. It was very sharp, though! Just like my son when first joined the Navy. Except my son had a much more flimsy uniform. Oh, yeah! I think that yellow haired man was in the Grand Navy. I don’t like them, but I love my son. I wish he would visit some time…”

“Oh, I… Do you know where they may have gone?”

She wiped her eye of some salty liquid. “Oh, maybe. I think one of the outposts. Maybe the bigger Grand Navy places if that man’s fancy uniform has any say! But I don’t know where that would be. I believe there’s a map near the beach of the immediate sea. Those strange people put it there when they began to bring their boxes and barrels and such on their big ships. Kinda like the big white one that was here, then the yellow haired man walked along.”

“Err, alright. I appreciate the help, lady.”

“Oh, yes, oh yes! Glad to help, Bigger Blitz Bullet!”

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

I ignored her farewelling waves as I moved further from her. What the hell did this man do? Shit… What am I gonna do? I won’t even be able to see him if he’s in a cell, unless they allow visiting— hell no they won’t! What she just described sounded like Pops was hauled off by a high rank like an admiral or something. What the shit did he do to get that?! Where’s this damn board…

Around the west corner alongside the orange sunlightened stone pathway bordering the beach, the wooden board sat. I searched for the map, glossing over some of the less dangerous criminals listed. What brought a brief pause in me though was the lack of the golden asshole’s grin and that faint blue lightning bolt from back at Fayeign. They were no longer listed and instead were three new faces plus an old, one-eyed familiar – Manodon. Alas, I found a map. A few outposts scattered around the ocean, but the closest one was only a few miles out. Without a second thought, I barreled through the shore, forgetting the aerated sand. While my ankles sunk, I was not panicked by this. Simply, I pushed through at a slower place until I arrived at the sailboat and pulled myself aboard the chipping paint wood. I gripped the rope and reeled up the anchor, throwing it on the deck and dampening my shirt in the toss. Next, I exposed the sail to the winds and finally, the boat was able to float along. I can’t break him out. Not only because I am nowhere near the strength to do so, especially considering he’s probably in a high-security jail, but also because I can’t be in a bad light… Would he even want me to break him out of prison?

I’d soon be lost in a sea of apparent ink if I didn’t get this boat to move faster. Winter still was a long ways away, yet the night seemed to be ready to swallow this side of the world already. My bones vibrated with impatience as I forced myself to stay at the wheel – not that I had other options to begin with. “I should be approaching the first outpost by now… I think. Shit, I hope he’s at this one. Who am I kiddin’? He’s definitely in one of those gargantuan, world’s most dangerous prisons or something! An admiral? Really?! Why the hell am I even looking for this guy then? I can’t do shit about that!”

A wave crashed on the ship’s side, coating me with its oceanic fluid. The water chuckled as I wiped it away to unblur my vision. With some breakneck breaths, my nerves eventually matched the deadness of the night. The ghast of the moonlight shined the dark corners of my mind and drowned my panic. Why did I do that? I never do that. Frantic, unhinged… Holy hell that is not me. Think, Zolton… Stop being a dumbass. Don’t ever do that dumb shit again, bursting off like a hysterical bat. What do I do? Why did I act like I have to rush in there, destroy some bars, kill the guards and break him out? Why was that the only thing I thought of? I’ll go, I’ll ask for him and if he’s there, the worst they can do is just tell me to ‘Leave’... Right?

The darkness was being breached from afar. A speck of luminance in the distant blackwater drifted to me. I turned the steer to it and the boat moved towards it. By its own accord, my swinging left fist clenched itself as the light and I closed gaps. “Hey-ho! Who are you?” I was asked by a shout.

A hull similar to mine pulled aside. Lanterns brought amber-toned luminance to a young face. The sail of the nuisance rose, stopping the sailboat next to mine. From some dark corner of the ship, a second face came. She moved eagerly, but was taken aback by something as she came near despite being separated by both the borders of our boats and the space of the sea. The helmsman displaced himself from the wheel and trotted over with the same eagerness in his steps the girl had. He kept a striking demeanor on his face as he approached. He shouted, “Name yourself! Who are y– who are— Holy crap.”

Of course. Those caps and sleeveless shirts — no doubt some navy lackeys. And these people always staring so blankly… If I stare into his soul for an uncomfortably long amount of time we’ll see how he likes it.

The seawater beneath appeared murky and infinite. Its sloshing flows steadily into our ears and into our hearts. I could see the guy’s eyes move down to my clenched fist and his lips attempted to cower into his mouth. His mate shuffled slowly to the other end of the ship, making sure her eyes never left me. He slowly opened his mouth and words spilling from it formulated a question, “A–are you okay? Your hand is bleeding…”

“What’d you arrest Balton fo— my hand is bleeding?” my vision moved to the dripping right palm. There was no pain, no ache, no sore. I opened my hand to expose the palm fully and a small, black magic circle vanished. In the brief glance I noticed a droplet symbol at the center of it, similar to Water’s. “Is this it?” I muttered and lept onto their boat, careless to their lack of invitation.

“What the heck?! You can’t trespass on Grand Navy property! Get off!” the helmsman cried to my nonchalant ears.

I held my hand under their lantern held up by a wooden pole and examined the liquid. It was not droplets of red that spilled, but instead a liquid resembling void. Huh? I wondered, Why– how did it come back on its own? And I didn’t even notice. The first time on whichever arm I tried to use it on, it felt so heavy. Throwing fists with Yazzalo strengthened me a lot enough to where it was much lighter to cast, but there was still a noticeable weight when summoning a simple drop–

“Hey!” an irritating tone carved through my thoughts, “You–are–tress-passing! Get off the ship, you are not authorized to be on this vess–”

“Can you shut the hell up?! Do you need me ta’ make ya? Damn, I’m tryna think here! Quit ya bitchin’, it’s a glorified hunk o’ wood!”

He returned with scornful eyes, but rightfully remained silent. Where the hell was I… Weight– weight! Or lack thereof. With Yazzalo I was able to eventually bring my arms up when summoning Blackwater, but I didn’t even notice it this time. I almost forgot that you aren’t supposed to feel heaviness in the limb from which you throw spells…

I sighed and turned back to the nuisance with my mouth reluctantly spilling, “You guys are the G.N right? You didn’t kill some losers and put on their fit?”

Both of them expressed visual disgust with my question as if some classy powdered pansy. “Absolutely not – we are the real deal! And you, you are in real trouble! Unauthorized access on Grand Navy ships is prohibited! You are to pay a fine in galleons or serve ti–”

“That’s cool, will you be jailing me where Balton is?”

His fist tightened. “Do you think this is a joke?” He growled.

“Chill out, Caleb,” his partner interjected, “He seems willing to pay a fine…”

I smirked. “Of course, yeah I’ll be doing that. Are you going to answer my question now? Where’s Balton? Bullet Blitz? Heard of him?”

She lifted her cap and scratched her scalp beneath her thick, dark hair. “Not that I recall — wait, why do you want to know?”

“To visit?” I said mirthlessly, “Did the Navy decide no one imprisoned can see their people from the outside world ever again?”

We paused for a moment but the ocean drifting prevented a completely dead silence. We traded eyes for a moment before the girl broke the silence, “Are we allowed to just bring people to the jails for visitation?”

Caleb crossed his arms. He replied with clear pain but remained honest, “Yeah, it’s fine. Not like people don’t just show up to random Navy locations when they want to any damn ways… Especially with Onfroy over there since, you know, he ‘follows the rules his own way.’”

“Alright! So you’ll be taking me to where Balton is then?”

“I don’t know who that is.”

“Apparently he was taken by someone high ranking among your… ilk. I assume on a ship that’s pretty large then. Do you know where one of those may have sailed to?”

“He was taken on a large ship? By someone high-ranking, eh? Well, bud, sounds like this Balton guy is in some pretty deep ship— I mean shit. Can’t promise that you’ll see ‘em, but… Hey-ho, I’ll take you so you can pay your fine… allegedly.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll trail you on my boat. Is it far?”

“Sure. Why not?” he said, “Cassandra, can you ignite the lantern again? Unless you want to sail back?”

She chuckled, opening the glass panel on the lantern and igniting it with a match. “Yeah, no. You got that. Unless you’re bold enough to have me sailing at night, thus not concerned with getting back home alive.”

He rolled his eyes and turned back to the wheel. “Keep up, I’m not slowing myself for you,” he shouted.

Their sailboat didn’t move too fast. Matter of fact, it seemed to drift along the sea without a care in the world. I looked up their mast and saw it hadn't even been lowered to half. “Set your sail down!” I called out. The helmsman side eyed me and turned around. He then turned the ship and some rocks emerged from the darkness. Upon them, a large stony white building with metal bars at the highest points with sections of the same white stone dividing them. We had to sail for some time before finally coming around to the front of it where lights were at last placed. On the opposing end from us, a long bowsprit extended from behind the cloaking of the jail. We pulled around it, revealing the true size of the mighty ship and some docks with many boats paling in comparison. “This place is scarier than it looks,” Cassandra bellowed, “There aren’t many prisoners in there, but the ones that are kept here are pretty high up on the bounty board. Not those top terrors of the sea, but still pretty menacing.”

By the time they had turned to me, my ship had already been anchored some place about the water and I was already up to the imposing wooden doors. I pushed against the heavy things, nearly collapsing when they finally opened. Despite what the girl said, I was still fairly surprised with how quiet the place was – even if this was just the lobby area. There was a desk straight across from me with an annoyingly ecstatic appearing individual behind it. Three guards, two of which wielded a sword and the other lacking offensive arms, stared at me. “Hello there! Do you want to enlist in the Grand Navy?” the commissioner called.

“Yeah you can shove that paper into the darkest depths of your ass…”

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you from so far away.”

“I asked if Balton Katastrof was imprisoned here? I’m looking for him.”

The commissioner reached under a table and brought up a book. He set it before and flipped through the pages mumbling, “Catastrof… I don’t see anyone with a surname beginning with a ‘C.’ That means this individual isn’t here, not that you’d be likely to see someone imprisoned here since it’s only the dangerous ones. Unauthorized personnel are prohibited from having contact with them.”

“It’s with a ‘K’,” I sighed tiresomely.

“Oh… Hold on,” he flipped through the book again. “Nope, a ‘Katastrof’ is not listed here. That sounds familiar though. Sorry, you must’ve gone to the wrong jail then. On the bright side, that may mean he’s in a imprison for lesser evildoers so maybe you’ll be actually able to visit him.”

“What?” while my heart was less stressed at this news, frustration and desperation began to consume me. “Was he not hauled in here by a captain or admiral or whoever it is that wears a big white jacket? I was told that someone like that arrested him and then I was guided here? Are you sure?”

“Hmm? Let me go check on something if you don’t mind holding on down here for a moment,” he said as he ascended a white marble ramp. The guards cladded in some Navy armor traded glances with me periodically. I began to have some regrets, wondering if Cyro’s cover up was unable to hold solid for this long and that they may realize me, but I made sure not to show it. Then, to my dismay, they began to bring themselves near. They stopped by, circling me with their swords groundward facing. All six of their eyes froze onto me. Mine shifted between the three of them. Then arose the cold question from one of the men, “What black markets have you been hitting up to get that tall?”

My feign sternness faded into annoyance. “What?” A rhetorical reply slipped itself.

“Your height, obviously. Don’t keep the secrets to yourself! Come on, don’t be selfish! What is it: Potions? Magic? We could all use that!”

“Hey, you down there,” a voice from above called down, “No not you three, you all can get back to your positions. The big one is who I’m talking to.”

He must be the guy that arrested him. Definitely fits the description – big white overcoat, golden shoulder tassels, yello— err, blond hair and beard. That big ass boat outside must be his too. According the desk warmer, Pops isn’t here though, but he obviously informed his boss about what I’m doing. I could just turn around but then I’d look even more suspicious, and I’m definitely not going to evade someone of his level. It’s best I just go along with this for now…

With a lackadaisical whiff of his hand, he beckoned me up the ramp to follow and so I went. A lot of echoing in this quiet, empty place. Peace could not settle with me, though, for my thoughts were being devoured by overwhelming worry and regret. The reverberating steps ahead of me soon stopped bouncing aloft, but I did not realize until I reached the even surface. Some muffled verbiage behind a wooden door ran across my ears. My beckoner pushed open the wooden door and uttered aloud, “I think this is yours.”

As the door opened he revealed a decently sized lounging area. A window to the moonlit sea sat right across from the door. A table with some glass bottles set upon its chipped top. Two couches, one on the right and the other on the left, were set beside it. On the right couch, I could see a pair of legs covered by some khaki cargo pants and brown boots at the feet, but the rest of the body was blocked off by the door from my position. But a warm grin soon stretched on my face when I heard a jarring sentence coming from the side of the legs, “That best be an old one. I done told’ya I ain’t wan’ no new gen rum! It's gotta ayge’ some years. Non’uh’dat youthful shit… You seem ta’ be failin’ ta understan’ the patience it takes for alcohol to reach its rich peak, Jawn!

“Oh shut the hell up you drunk bum,” the well-fitted man chuckled, “I didn’t grab another bottle… yet. Someone’s here for you.”

He sighed dreadfully and rose from the couch. “Not dis shit again… I already toldjo’ peepuhl’ I ain’t rejoinin’ yall’s wars– Boyo?”

He rubbed his tired eyes and lifted the pinched front hat from his eyes. “Is dat ma’ first seed my eyes are catching or have I not sobered up yet?!”

“Still hitting bottles like you’re in your youth, old man?” I joked with the biggest smile I’ve had in what felt like years.

“Holy shit, Zolton! My boy ain’t dead!” he bellowed with tears nearly bursting from his eyes. Despite having almost three feet on him, the old bastard managed to bear hug and lift me off the ground. “Motherfucker! Where have you been?! Come on in here! Watch your head!”

“Damn, your drawl and way of speech just went away real quick!”

“Zolton, son, I’ve been down here in these seas away from my old home for over two decades, you think I can’t turn it on and off when I want to? It depends on who I feel like annoying that day!” he guffawed. He moved over to the couch with a reminding limp and reached behind it. Unexpectedly, he tossed a large bottle at me and luckily I caught it, saving myself from a mess and shame.

“What have you been up to, son?! Tell me alluh’bout it!” he leaned eagerly.

I broke from my starstruck state in a daze. “Oh, shit, well uh — a lot more than I — than I ever could’ve imagined… Shit, where do I even start… I guess what I can say is I’ve been through a lot without accomplishing much of anything. I lost my magi– uh, proper control of my magic, but I’m working with a trainer who has a cool fighting style.”

You almost spilled that – you don’t want to spread word of the Undergrowth right now. Keep that away from conversation.

“Is that right? Which one is it?”

“He calls it Renegade, it is a nasty style. He claims that I’m not ready to learn it but I’ve been picking up on some things here and there against his better wishes I presume. Oh, and speaking of him, Pops, you said you manifested Gravity right?”

He nodded. “What’bout it?”

I turned to the important looking guy. “Mr… Captain… Jawn?”

“Admiral, but yeah just call me Jawn, please,” the admiral implored.

“Is that normal? My,” I sighed, “Teacher told me one simply manifesting a magic such as Gravity shouldn’t be possible. What’s with that?”

“I’m not sure exactly. I have Healing magic after finding it some decades ago. Before that I didn’t have any magical abilities until later where I apparently unlocked Shadow and down the line on Lightning. Balton on the other hand just pulled Gravity out of his ass in the middle of a war and called it a day. Basically, kid, your dad is built weird. Oh yeah about that – how does it work? Can you still use your Wind magic Balton?”

“I’d be disappointed if I couldn’t,” he said, blasting a breeze from a white casting circle into his old friend’s face.

Jawn grabbed another bottle. “You are lucky it’s happy hour right now. Hey Zolton, got more stories to tell? I never heard of this ‘Renegade’ style before. Sounds like you have a lot of intriguing things to say.”

I set the unopened bottle on the table and leaned against the smooth white wall. “Hmm, well I was kidnapped by some crazy guy with a deer’s skull on his head. He dragged me underground with some weird Shadow magic. He had, honestly quite scary, control over it. He formed dark tentacles from it and just used them with frightening mastery… Shit, now I remember how bizarre even his summoning circle was. I haven’t met anyone with Shadow magic, but I don’t think there’s supposed to be an amalgamation of triangles in it, right?”

“Nah I ain’t ever seen no shit like that,” Balton spoke and threw back his head to get the final drop out of the bottle, “But shadow tentacles sound all too familiar to me. That big crazy ass bastard in his whirlpools and shit… What da’hell you been through this past… year?”

I continued, “Again, a lot but accomplishing little. Obviously, I did manage to escape with a group. The rest of us disbanded but, right now it’s just me and someone else working as crewmates, just us two remaining of the six… Why only six— Oh! Oh hey, Mr. Jawn, what’s up with the bounty boards being changed? I see that the ‘Storm’ and Bl-ass-adahl got taken off. Did you guys handle them?”

“Funny story about that. Blassadahl, he’s dead. Fried him myself. This ‘Storm’ or whatever — we decided to take him or her off the board for a few reasons. One is because we believe it’s a threat that is too dangerous to have any common person go after. The next is because it has been a long time since Storm has done anything so we aren’t sure if it still exists as a person or just a freakish act of nature. It might just be magic polluting the sky and making some violent storms every now and then. But if it is an actual sentient thing, it doesn’t actively attack or deal harm, at least not very often obviously, but when it does it’s too dangerous. To be honest, the reason why it was put on the board to begin with, and it pains me to admit this, was kind of due to anecdotal evidence. A patrolling fleet of three or four frigates had this weird azure lightning polluting it. Every person on each ship was paralyzed by it for a week, even after carefully taking them off the ships.

We had to provide food and water to them over that time but unfortunately, a couple still succumbed to the stress and trauma of that bizarre lightning. Hell, we had to make sure to not touch them ourselves because the lightning was still bouncing around their bodies like a static barrier for some time. No doubt it was some sort of magic. We just don't know if it was from a person, an entity, or what. We’ve documented some events that seem to have been caused by it, such as sections of a burnt forest in Windview and a… scarred carcass. Let me tell ya, the word ‘scarred’ is severely underplaying what happened to that body. Also, I’m sure you’ve noticed the sky flashing the same deep azure color every now and then. The decision ultimately was to just have this thing be something we keep the search on for so the general public doesn’t risk themselves looking for him or her, or also possibly an it. Besides, it’s not as if criminals were searching for The Storm to turn into the Navy. Unless they’re pompous fools. No one with a bounty would show up to any property of the Navy.”

I reached over for the bottle on the table and popped off the lid. Without consideration, I took a swing at it and felt the strength of the drink fighting my throat. It was like drinking sand but in a liquid form, all while still managing to feel exactly like its typical solid state. And the taste was unbearable, like a mix of acid and watered down piss. Of course, the two older men were cackling at my reaction to this terrible drink. “You won’t notice it after your fifth bottle!” Old Man Katastrof laughed.

“Speaking of not noticing things,” reached to the side of the couch again, “You forgot to take this with you.”

He handed me a black chest. It was dark, almost voidlike. “You remember what this is, right? You best! I’ll smack you upside the head otherwise!”

“Uhh… yeah. You said this is the chest only we can open, right? How does that work?”

Jawn snickered. “Yeah, Balton, please do explain.”

“Kid, if some bastard tries to take ya shit and you break they neck, do you think they’ll open it?!”

The door creaked open and a guard stepped in. This one had some large hammer on his back and was cladded in some thicker blue armor than the ones at the entrance of this tower. He saluted, “Admiral Onfroy! We’re hearing reports of a thick mist coming in,” he informed.

“Tell the three at the bottom floor they’re allowed inside until it’s over, they don’t have to stay in that. Unfortunately, we can’t have the jailbirds above unattended so you and the others will have to maintain position – no less than six of you. There are eight of y’all right? So two of you can switch out every other hour or so for a break. I’ll come up later. You’re dismissed.”

“I already told him to just call me Jawn,” Onfroy sighed.

My curiosity got the best of me. I asked, “I heard there are some dangerous criminals here. What they do?”

“This tower is bigger than it needs to be, honestly. Most of the real dangerous threats aren’t kept here, but that doesn’t mean we don’t have some scum of society, such as Hirio Ikari. Indiscriminate murderer, arms smuggler and dealer, bomber. Proud of it too, hence why we know his name. Then there’s the Bronze Assassin. He won’t tell us his actual name and there’s not a rap sheet on him – his record may have been clean before his arrest, but he definitely was not. Unlike Hirio, he has one ‘job’: a hitman. Pay him, give a name, general whereabouts and he’ll have your target’s head back the same day… but yeah we also have the common thief or some other fool. Actually, come let's go take a walk up there.”

He held the door open for us and I exited, but Pops gave him a stink eye. “I’on need you holdin’ that open for me.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot you’re a drama queen when it comes to these insignificant things. Alright, come on,” Jawn stepped off, ascending the stairs with us trailing him. From what I remembered seeing on the outside, this prison felt much larger on the interior. Numerous doors were on each floor as we went up, but judging from the large metal gate I was able to see further up at top, I came to the probable conclusion of that being the cell area. Pops was adjusting his brown leather vest. “Aye, old man,” I called, “do you know about the Dark Sea?”

He looked at me with an awkward stare. “Uhh, yeah? Ya’ don’t think I went through it to get here?”

“Yeah I figured as much. How was it?”

“Shitty. Not jus’ any kinda’ shitty, though. Gut bug shitty. The kind that makes your ass turn into a mud geyser. Lost three of the four other people I was with. You was a jaw away from not existing!” he bellowed.

“Alright, don’t put your hand through the bars, they bite,” Mister Onfroy joked. A guard turned a protruding bar in a circular motion until the gate rose, allowing us. On both sides lining the long wall were black metal bars. Every ten feet or so a concrete wall divided the cells. “We keep the most dangerous ones up here close to this entrance so a precise eye can be kept on them,” Jawn informed us, “So of course, those charged with lesser crimes are put in the rest.”

He knocked on a bar of the left cell, creating a cold ringing. There was a body on a mattress set on a hovering platform held up by two ropes nailed into the wall. A window with the tightly spaced bars sat just above him where the moon peeked in. The resting man glanced our way with his spiteful angular eyes before rolling back over to face the wall. “That’s the Bronze Assassin, as you could’ve guessed by his introversion. Then again, I’d be pretty pissed too if I had to sit in a room alone for twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.”

He turned to the opposing cell and flicked his finger on it. The man held a letter above him as he rested on the, loosely named, bed. A burn scarred the right half of his face, tightening the space of the eye some. “This one on the other hand, Hiri–”

“Hirio Ikari, that’s me. I don’t need bastards to utter my name from their dirty mouths,” the jailbird spat.

Jawn sneered, “Yeah, that’s Mr. Ikari. Don’t mind him, he’s just been throwing a tantrum since we first dragged him here. I think he’s starting to like his little dog cage, though. It’s the perfect place for a bitch, you know?”

“Pray I never get released, Onfroy.”

Jawn smirked. “Yeah, yeah. We think these two came from the same region. Bronze over there never opened his mouth, but Ikari likes barking. Two of the Keihatsu, but of opposing clans. One thing Ikari managed to keep his mouth shut about was the names of those clans, but he did inform us of him and Bronze being from opposing areas – and how much they despise each other… allegedly. Bronze doesn’t seem all that concerned with him, neither does the reverse.”

“Where they go if they needa’ take a leak?” my father questioned.

Tumbling into the hall came one of the guards I first encountered. He was coated with some bizarre shining dust? The surreal matter coated him fully from the legs up and around the head. His armor had hundreds of cuts and holes in it filled with this sparkling yellow dust with blood leaking from them. His jaw dropped to speak, but only a dry guttural hissing could be made until a spilling of blood poured from his mouth. “What the hell— what the hell is this?” my voice trembled. The admiral kicked a bolt of Lightning from beneath his feet, descending the ramp an instant. Pops mimicked him with his Wind. “Bring your nerves under control, man up…” I muttered, descending to the lowest floor with them.

I caught up to both of them standing outside. There was an overwhelming storm of yellow dust swarming all around, flooding our nostrils and pelting our skin. A brazen, powerful cackling could be heard over the nightmarish torrent. “Get back inside, now, now!” Jawn shouted in a commanding tone.

In the frantic retreat, I tripped over something, falling back into the tower. As the doors closed, I realized what it was: a corpse buried in this golden mess. My old man remained outside and waited for us to enter the building before shaking the tower with a large gust. “Y’all, git out here!” his boldness roared to us.

The swarm was gone, repelled away in the Wind. He pointed up at the moon and we all gawked at it, staring at the supernatural thing. An object blackened by the contrasting light of the moon was a… colossal fish? “Jawn,” he said, “what the fuck is this?”

“I fucked up - that’s what is it is. My fuck up, but also a fuck up in of itself at the end of the day,” he dourly uttered.

As this massive hand of the sky descended, the laughing grew louder. And as it grew louder, it sounded increasingly familiar. Onfroy raised his hand and a gargantuan ring of Lightning summoning manifested in the air. A lightning bolt nearly equal to the mass of the prison curved and turned in the air, rushing towards the hand. Then, a second magic circle appeared above us, not one of Lightning, but instead Gold. A voice clapped like thunder, “Hey, Jawny boy,” it raged in a sky shaking roar, “Fuck you!”

A golden fist dropped from the ring, slowly spinning in the wind. It bore down on the tower, forcing the particles of the air to cry as they were torn apart in its descent. The fist collided with the upper east section of the tower, throwing chunks of metal and stone debris aloft, but it froze airborne. Around it, a sharp violet aura. “Who’s this fucker?” Balton interrogated his old friend with his arm extended to the golden fist.

“You don’t know? We can discuss that later, he’s still on the— fish…” he sighed, “this guy… Just push it back, I’ll help repel it!”

“Don’t even bother! Fuck you and your tower, I’m not missing dinner for this shit,” the voice from the fish spat vulgarly. “When they ask how all your prisoners escaped, let them know it’s a bad idea to boil my piss. Especially when they send your disgraceful ass to trifle with me.”

Despite being the opposing forces of Gravity and the admiral’s Shadow, a small dot in comparison to the titan-like fish trailed off it, crashing into the ocean water some ways away. “The prisoners? What is he talking abo—” Onfroy’s eyes cracked with red in stress as his heart palpated. He swung sight to the destroyed top of the tower where the golden hand rested with its middle finger extended high and shining.