The captain's disappearance was like an invitation for chaos. Suddenly, voices erupted from all sides of the ship, all talking about the same thing—the Cormorant fleet.
Tolas, attempting to calm the crew, blew his whistle several times in a row, but he was completely ignored. The young man persisted, whistling until he turned red, but he only managed to quiet the first rows of sailors. Those at the back heard nothing but their own conversations.
Without a word, Spirit, who had discreetly approached his brother, placed a hand on Tolas's shoulder, nodding slowly from side to side. Before the young man could react, Spirit had advanced to the main mast, the same spot where the captain had stood moments ago.
"SAILORS!" he roared with a hoarse and incredibly powerful voice.
The entire crew abruptly stopped moving, paralyzed with terror. Even Raphaëlle stood completely still, as if the almost animalistic force Spirit had emanated for a moment had transformed her into prey facing a predator.
Tolas was the only one who resisted his brother's shout, but it was only because another, even stronger emotion was already gripping his heart. Biting the inside of his lips, the young bosun did his best to remain stoic as Spirit turned toward him. Spirit placed his hand back on Tolas's shoulder and nodded, silently asking if he understood. Tolas stared at his brother for a second too long before nodding as well and taking the place Spirit had left for him in front of the main mast.
He began to provide the details the captain had preferred to omit in order to return to his cabin. Raphaëlle, who had regained her composure, gently tugged at her neighbor's sleeve, signaling him to come closer. The sailor gave her a sidelong glance.
"What's up, little wolf?"
"Why did everyone panic all of a sudden? What’s the Cormorant fleet?"
The sailor's eyes widened, almost outraged, just before he remembered the circumstances surrounding the young deckhand's arrival on board. Suddenly trying to drape himself in an air of mystery, he explained:
"I guess we don't talk about it ashore, but you won't find a sailor who hasn't heard of the Cormorant fleet. It has been scouring the seas worldwide for years now, yet no one could accurately describe it. Some say it consists of hundreds of ships advancing inexorably toward an unknown destination, destroying everything in their path! Others claim it's a fleet of ghosts, dead at sea, seeking to swell their ranks..."
Raphaëlle listened to the sailor, both fascinated and somewhat incredulous, when she finally noticed the strange silence settling around them. She also felt that the other crew members surrounding them were slowly but surely moving away. The sailor continued, still in a confidential tone:
"...the only thing that is sure and certain is that they leave very few survivors behind. Just enough for them to spread the legend of the Cormorant fleet before they die in a scream of AGONYYYY!!!"
Tolas's hand forcefully landed on the sailor's head, who let out a huge cry of surprise. Raphaëlle kept an impassive face but bit her lower lip with all her might to avoid laughing. When she saw Tolas's expression though, her urge to laugh disappeared instantly.
"So, sailor, do you think what you have to say is more important than what I have to say?"
A drop of sweat trickled down the man's forehead, and he dared not move, like the rest of the crew who waited to see what would happen. Almost effortlessly, Tolas turned the trembling head of the poor man towards him, and he responded with a weak:
"N-no, sir..."
Tolas's grip visibly tightened, and the sailor let out a tiny cry of pain. Raphaëlle frowned and stared at her friend.
"Wait, Tolas, it's my fault. I asked him a question, so ease up a bit!"
The bosun turned his head toward the young woman, a completely different expression on his face. It was as if he were caught between two diametrically opposed emotions. Even though his gaze slowly began to soften as he looked at Raphaëlle, he didn't release his grip. No one said anything, not daring to even breathe, afraid of breaking the tension that had now settled.
A few seconds passed without a word, without a movement, as if time had stopped. After what felt like hours to her, Raphaëlle noticed that Tolas's hand had finally started to loosen up, and the sailor fell to his knees, hands on his head, afraid to make a sound. Feeling guilty for him, Raphaëlle couldn't help but make a remark.
"You really didn’t need to go that far!"
Tolas, with furrowed brows, turned his back to Raphaëlle, avoiding the fire behind her pupils.
"If you have any questions, you'll ask them after hearing my explanations... alright?"
Raphaëlle bit her tongue with difficulty. She already had plenty of questions for him, but she wanted to avoid making a scene in front of everyone. The kneeling sailor had managed to stand up and had taken his place beside her, looking both sheepish and a little angry. The young woman thought she would find a way to make it up to him and preferred to wait for Tolas to speak again, which he did by returning to his place in front of his men, who had finally resumed breathing.
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"As I was saying before, the expedition will have several missions: checking the condition of Vyx's Bay, the city of Ermythie, and the royal laboratory; seeing if there are any survivors; and most importantly, ensuring the laboratory's safe is intact. This last point is the most important; HQ has been very clear: if the safe has been opened, we need to notify them as soon as possible. And before you ask, no, you don't need to know what's in there."
A few disappointed sighs could be heard from the curious sailors, but Raphaëlle had a mischievous little smile. She should be able to extract that information from the bosun. After all, he would have to make up for his excessive behavior.
"I need three people to accompany me ashore. Our mission should take us all day and might extend into tomorrow. But don't forget that participants will be rewarded! So, who would be interested?"
A flurry of hands shot up simultaneously, amidst the cheers of the crew who now only thought about the mysterious reward awaiting them for such a seemingly simple mission. Everyone hoped that the bosun would pick them, but after more than two minutes of raised hands and excited shouts, the men realized that Tolas was observing them without saying anything. Soon, the cheers faded, and the hands lowered, the crew understanding that Tolas seemed to have something to add. Raphaëlle was the only one who noticed a shadow of a satisfied smile on the young man's face, knowing he had everyone's attention at that moment. Finally, he added:
"I forgot to tell you that, as nobody knows exactly what happened on the island, we don't know if the Cormorant fleet is still there."
It was as if Tolas had summoned winter with his last statement. The crew seemed to shrink; each man tried to make himself as small as possible, hoping with all his heart that the bosun wouldn't choose them. Tolas rolled his eyes, having expected this kind of reaction.
When he lowered his eyes, his heart skipped a beat, but his expression darkened slightly. After all, he should have expected it. In the midst of this sea of turned heads, avoiding eyes, and trembling bodies, only one hand was raised, high toward the sky and as steady as the ship's masts. Raphaëlle stared at him intently, head held high, with such determination in her eyes that he felt his own will waver.
Other sailors had started to notice her raised hand, and they all felt a slight pang of shame overwhelm them. Tolas, knowing perfectly well that his friend wouldn't change her mind now that her hand was raised, thought it could also serve to motivate the rest of his troops. Suddenly smirking, he stepped forward, raising his voice.
"Hey, Raph', what does it feel like to have the biggest pair of balls on this ship?"
"Makes me think I should spare them some!" she retorted sharply.
Stung, the sailors looked at each other, ashamed of showing so much weakness in front of the only woman in the crew. Gradually, hands were raised again, and conversations resumed. Tolas, satisfied, sought Raphaëlle's gaze, but the young woman had already disappeared into the crowd. The cheers of the now motivated sailors brought the bosun back to reality, and he began to choose the future members of the expedition.
The journey to Nespérides' Island passed in the blink of an eye, and soon they were only an hour or so away from their destination. Raphaëlle, who had finally finished her chores, set out to find the bosun, asking around if anyone had seen him. After being told he was probably getting ready in the first dormitory, the young deckhand hurried there, ready to have a little chat with Tolas.
When she arrived, she found the bosun finishing putting a water bottle into a small, worn canvas bag, and he looked up at her. His face lit up before the memories of the meeting on the upper deck made him grimace slightly, and the atmosphere surrounding Raphaëlle reminded him of her explosive temperament. Without waiting, the young woman approached Tolas until her face was only a few centimeters from his. The bosun began to blush, but he quickly noticed that his friend showed no sign of embarrassment. It was rather anger that marked her features.
"What got into you earlier?" the young wolf almost attacked him, her eyes flashing.
Raphaëlle's tone put Tolas on edge, and he immediately stopped blushing.
"What got into me? I played my role!" he defended himself vehemently. "If members of my crew don't listen to me, it's up to me to—"
"Bullshit!" she cut him off. "Your whistle isn’t a prop!"
"Sure did look like one when I used it before! You saw what happened, I…I needed an example!"
Raphaëlle's face twisted into a grimace of incomprehension.
-An example? What about Spirit then? Isn't that exactly what he did, set an example for you?
As soon as the young woman mentioned his brother's name, Tolas's entire body tensed like a bow and he discreetly clenched his fists, doing his best to hide his visceral reaction. Raphaëlle, too focused on finishing her rant, didn't notice it.
"I don't get it. What’s going on with you? Since the captain appointed you as the future bosun, I can barely recognize you sometimes!
Tolas, with a stern expression, sought a way to change the subject. He had noticed it too. Baring his fangs at the slightest problem, ready to prove that no one would question his authority, especially not Spirit. The mere fact that Raphaëlle had reminded him of how his brother demonstrated once again his superior character was almost unbearable. But she could never know that.
"Raph'...," he began, meekly, "you can't... you can't understand. Really. I can't afford to appear weak in front of my men!"
"Weak?" exclaimed Raphaëlle, taken aback. "But you know very well that you're anything but weak! Everyone knows that!"
His reaction was completely different from what she was used to. She expected him to defend himself with more vehemence, perhaps even as much as he had shown on the deck. But she could feel that the raging fire that might have been there was now gone and what was left was but a flickering spark, which melted down her own animosity. She pressed her fist against Tolas's chest and gave him a tender look as he still avoided hers.
"...And I know it too. So, relax a little, okay? You’ve got nothing to prove to anyone."
The bosun finally found the courage to look his friend in the eyes and felt his heart start to race. He kept himself from trembling and placed his hand over Raphaëlle's, which was still pressed against his chest. They remained silent until the young woman eventually noticed Tolas's heartbeat, and she slightly started to frown, a bit confused. Tolas, taking a deep breath, gently tightened his grip on her hand.
"Raph'... I need to tell you someth—"
"Mister... Tolas?"
Raphaëlle and Tolas, both startled, turned their heads towards the dormitory's entrance. An old sailor was bent over on the threshold; one arm against a wall, the other on his chest, struggling to catch his breath. Tolas hastily let go of Raphaëlle's hand and, trying to regain some composure, grabbed his canvas bag and walked towards the old sailor.
"What's happening?"
"We need you... on the deck... sir..." the sailor gasped, almost on the verge of collapse.
Tolas turned to Raphaëlle, raising an inquisitive eyebrow. The bewildered deckhand nodded, and they hurriedly crossed the long corridor that led outside.