While the snowstorm had calmed considerably, the wind still cut through our clothes like frozen knives as it blew across the bay. We had learned our lesson, of course, and wore pelts and additional layers of clothes and leathers and had erected a little wall of spanned sailcloth to huddle up behind, but in the end, the cold won and took our heat.

We luckily only had to make a day-trip up the coast, rest for the night, and add a couple more hours the next day until we would reach the opening of the cave system the crews of the longboats had spotted on their recent trip.

What I had not expected was the amount of sea life I could see below the waves, freezing temperatures or not. The sea was brimming with life, big and small, and the endless dance of predator and prey continued below the surface without the snow and ice interfering too much. I was mostly worried because some of the shapes coming to investigate the boat seemed to be larger than a man, even if nothing as big as the whale or the strange octopus-vehicle of the Gyohin could be seen.

Ser Fisher was with us and I was glad to be able to see his silent and stoic silhouette at the prow, scanning the waves with his grey and humorless eyes. He was in his element, even if I was not, and he would bring us to where we needed to go.

Racing by the coast, seeing the landmarks disappear I had grown accustomed to, namely the Shattered Lands and the forest of the Mad King, was strange, as it had taken me so much time and effort to travel by them before. With the ships and the safety of the shallow waters near the coast, we were so much quicker than I had been on land. It took mere hours for me to spot the very mountain range I had begun my journey in, The Divide, and less than a day to reach the cliffs where those mountains towered over the churning sea in which the cave system was located.

It was beautiful. Nature just was. It was so majestic and tranquil at the same time, making it hard to remember the horrors lurking in the Divide‘s shadows and crevasses.

A train of thought that brought me to a horrifying idea. I knew of a monster, majestic, gigantic, and strong, that was affiliated with the element of fire. The mother of the Magmawyrms. The creature that so long ago had killed me in the depths of the Abyss, deep under the very mountains I was sailing past right now. An experience gifting me with [Stonehide] and a neverending fear of the depths. It could not have been an Elemental Guardian, could it?

It was impossible. I had fallen straight down, hundreds of miles from here, and had stumbled through the darkness of the labyrinth for days before I met her. Could it have been farther south than I had thought? Had I been turned around that much in my journey through the Abyss? The exit I had taken was itself far away from Ravenrock, so it was clear that I had made many a mile underground, most of it by the riverway of the builders of the Silent City. Who can say where I had been exactly in relation to the surface. Surely it was possible to have been in, or rather under, the Wyld. No one had said that the Guardians had to be close to their dying mother, the Dragon of Life I expected to be below the Shattered Lands.

I shuddered, and only half of it was because of the cold. I could not return into the endless tunnels below the Divide. I just could not. Not now, with a future and people relying on me right here. Not when I had found a safe haven and had a war to fight. It was unthinkable. And yet...no, fate was not knocking on my door. It was my fear and a stray thought birthing a coincidence...nothing more.

I shook my head, focussing on the present again. While a voyage per boat was inviting to let your mind wander, we were in the Wyld still and the creatures were dangerous around here. This time I traveled without the protection of a warship as big as the Albatross and I needed to be awake for everyone‘s safety.

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We spent the night in a small cove that all but protected us from the waves of the open sea, silently sitting around a small fire and trying to get some warmth into our bones. We heard noises in the night, strange and haunting, being echoed by the steep cliffs above and the mountains behind those.

Strange being in a place where the danger lurked below your feet in the water and above you in the darkness. Unease gripped us all, as we struggled to find some rest. Ser Fisher was there again, standing guard at the seashore, staring into the waves with a patience I would not have been able to show.

While the others crept closer to the fire and closed their eyes, he stood, a black patch in front of more black, and so I joined him for a moment, having little need for sleep myself. Ser Fisher had been a pillar of the community, ever since he had taken up teaching his art of throwing harpoons to others. He had been participating in the fights against the Gyohin, the training battles against the Nightmares, he had taken the oath of the free knights and finally, he had been, besides Ser Gideon, the one knight able to truly hurt the Weirderbeast. And as such had fought eye to eye with the unthinkable creature for days.

He had been a whaler, once, a man married to the dangers of the sea. No one knew more about him, not where he hailed from, not if he had family or history. And that was fine with me. He had made himself a part of the creation of Ravenport - as fine a second chance as any I had seen. And he had taken this chance and made himself a new man.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

„Ser Fisher.“ I spoke my greeting, coming to stand beside him. I activated [Eyes to Pierce the Darkness] and let my gaze wander over the water. There was a big rock shielding the cove from the open sea, so there was not much to see. As I glanced over to the man, I could see in the world of black and white my Skill created, that his eyes were burning in a bright light, as if they were as hot as the coals of a forge. I looked him over once more and picked out little details of him that had changed. I saw his webbed fingers, which held a harpoon in their relaxed grip, and some kind of coloration across his neck. Scales? It was the subtle influence of the Wyld all the knights started to show. He proudly did not wear Dragonamber anymore.

“My lord.“He was silent and a man of few words, he spoke even less than Grim, although Grim had opened up around me lately.

“Do you see anything?“ I asked to fill the void.

He shook his head, shaved clean and marked with tattooed blue lines, forming an intricate pattern of an unfamiliar design. “Nothing dangerous.“ He said. “But the sea is restless.“

I raised an eyebrow at him, then, suddenly unsure if he could see me in the dark or not, spoke up: “What do you mean?“

“The fish. Something is down there stirring them up.“

A lump traveled down my gullet as I swallowed hard. I still had a queasy feeling when it came to the depths and the unknown of the deep sea. “Even here?“ I meant the small puddle of water we had parked the boat in. He shook his head, saving his breath and not speaking the words.

I had to be cursed to always find myself surrounded by men and women who leaned towards being the silent type. So, as the time stretched towards the edge of the awkward, I nodded once more and returned to the fire. Far away from the water.

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The air was cold still, but very calm the next day as we packed our things below the benches and took on the oars again. On a longboat, everyone had to do their part and we found the rhythm by blindly following the shouted orders of Captain Higgins. Yesterday, we had only rowed to leave the pier and to enter the small cove. Today we would have to work more, to make up for the lack of wind. The oar in the hands of Simue was bigger than herself, but she pulled it with the same strength as the rest of the battle- and weather-hardened men on board. Had she leveled up and received a strength-related Skill on her last expedition into the Fallen Empire? Or had she always been that strong?

Without thinking too much about it, I used [Discern Subject] on her. She was a [Vengeful Assassin] level 29. I tried to remember, what I had known about her class, but I was quite sure that she must’ve had a class evolution combining her old classes to the new one because the vengeful part surely was new. Which somewhat explained the strange air around her, the hard edge of her eyes, that I had not known before.

Suddenly, she turned, looking at me with a quick glance, before returning to the rhythm of the oars. Had she just...felt me discerning her? Was that one of her [Vengeful Assassin] tricks? That made me feel...something. As if I had violated her privacy somehow and had gotten caught in the act.

If there was something any sensible ruler should avoid is getting on the wrong side of a [Vengeful Assassin]. I did not need a lesson from my ancestors to know that much.

An hour in, we caught a breeze and raised the sail to let the wind do the work for us. Letting the oar drop felt good. Not because my muscles burned or the sweat froze on my skin but because the oars had chafed my hands raw, unfamiliar as the motion was for me. I stretched my legs, climbing over the others to join Captain Higgins at the tiller.

“How is the oar treating you, mylord?“ He grinned. “Thanks for the promotion to captain, by the way. I would hate to take a part in the exercise.“

“You know it‘s awful. Shut up.“ I sat down beside him, my back to the high curving wall of the boat, searching for my waterskin. “How long will the wind hold?“

He shrugged but looked up, studying the clouds. “The wind is falling down from the mountains. It is very unruly around here. But we will soon have the cliff in our back and that will help.“

„Thank the...dead gods and the damned.“ I murmured, suddenly convinced that we as a culture had to invent new prayers and swearwords, now that the gods had so failed us and died.

“What do you think about those caves we are looking for?“ I asked him.

“I have thought about it quite a bit. Somewhere in the Wyld is a point where the...influence is not too bad. Hells, the Wyldlings come from the Wyld. I wonder if these caves are deep enough in to be protected from the Wyldlings themselves.“

“They are no seafarers. Don’t worry. The caves are a great hideout even without the Wyld. The Wyld will deter the humans and everybody but the Wyldlings. That means those who know how to boat. And the Wyldlings do not.“

“Ah, that makes sense. I was not really...let‘s say alert... when we planned this.“

“What is wrong?“

“Nothing, just so much to do. Being the captain of the ship that brought all the material in the world, is all. I was suddenly the most popular man in the Wreckage, no offense Sir Twice-Born Hero, but everybody and their mother wanted me to decide something, do something, or make something happen.“

“So bad?“

“I am just glad I am gone, now. The waves are much more my thing. Out here, things are simpler.“

“Don’t you want to be the captain of your own ship?“

“Of course, I want that. I am just wetting my toe in the waters. First time swimming, and all. I will do what needs to be done.“

“That is why you are my favorite, Higgins.“ I grinned at him.

We were still chatting and laughing, when hours later the caves, hidden around a bend in the cliffs, swallowed our ship whole and drowned us with its murky darkness. It smelled fishy, once the wind had no more chance to take the smell away. The hall of every sound we made was eery and strange, and we all fell into wary silence.

That was when we found the ship, hidden deep under the mountain. Ships I could stomach.

But the burning lanterns all around us made me nervous.