Patience isn’t always a virtue. You can lose out on a great deal by waiting for the perfect moment. Dive headfirst into life and see how many doors open up along the way. My first skill was sewing, and it led me to open up shop all those years later. Follow your curiosity.

-Excerpt from ‘Building Tidewalker: The Life and Lessons of Greev Quebb’ by Ceil Quebb

“Eighth of Dolmer’on, year six hundred and twenty four of the fourth surge, secondday. The Unrequited Love sailed past the edge of Derridas this morning, leaving the towering cliffs and sprawling forests behind her. We now sail for Highbream, making a course for the most westerly point in Derridas. Most of the crew hail from the city, and for them it will be a homecoming. We have plenty of goods to sell, though a chunk of the profits will go towards repairing the ship after the disaster yesterday. However, we weathered the storm and came out the other side stronger for it. And now the sun blazes out across a clear blue sky and calm seas. I hope the rest of the journey goes smoothly,” said Rose, before closing the pink book and looking toward the captain.

“Brilliant. Magical,” he said while applauding her with a beaming smile that stretched from ear to ear. “Just what I had hoped for when I entrusted this task to you. You’re exceeding my expectations, Rose.”

Her skills had been climbing steadily too, with all the work she was putting in. As she left the captain’s quarters to begin her daily cleaning duties, Rose had a look at her status to take stock of her progress and marvelled at how close she was to earning yet another trait.

Name: Rose Everblue

Race: Human

Occupation: -

Title: -

Available Titles: -

Skills: Cleaning 8, Reading 9, Fishing 12, Swimming 7, Writing 6, Butchery 6, Cooking 5, Herding 2, Focus 8, Drawing 11, Sailing 7

Traits: Sensitive Line, Deft Hand

More than one, in fact. There were three skills on the cusp of reaching level ten, and while they weren’t as close, sailing and writing were fast catching up.

She didn’t know if it was unusual to have more than one trait at her age. The captain seemed to think she was more talented than she had a right to be, but all it had taken was hard work.

Having wonderful parents helped of course—if she hadn’t been taught how to fish, butcher, read, cook, and write by them, plenty of these skills would be absent from her status.

Her goal would be to earn her third trait before they reached Highbream. It was very achievable and would go a long way to improving her dour mood.

Rose still cursed herself for her inaction that day. If not for Felix’s heroics, what would have happened to Jordan? Would another member of the crew have stepped up to save him, or would he have lost his grip after a desperate struggle and fallen to the icy depths below?

It was a small grace that he had survived. The moment had replayed over and over in her dreams last night, and broken up her sleep into uncomfortable, short bouts that did little to help her rest.

On the following day she threw herself into cleaning, scrubbing each plank with meticulous care until they sparkled in the sun. It became autonomous after a while, and Rose was able to tune out her thoughts. Plank by plank, she continued to scrub.

In the span of a single morning she breathed new life into the ship, not stopping until her cloth caught on a charred splinter.

A single drop of crimson blood fell from her hand onto the blackened wood, and it was only then that she noticed the skin on her hands peeling away, raw from hours of soaking in soapy water and rhythmic scrubbing.

It was only now that she saw the hovering whorls, and burst out laughing.

Skill up!

Cleaning 8 > 10

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You have earned a new trait!

Good as New: Things that you clean remain clean for longer, and even the hardiest dust and grime can’t resist your touch.

Her third trait. And she had earned it while trying to push everything away, from one of her least important skills. Rose wondered if good as new applied retroactively. The Unrequited Love would be spick and span for the remainder of the journey and perhaps longer if it did.

She wondered why focus hadn’t gained a level too, given that she had put her all into cleaning for almost four hours straight. Though she supposed that being zoned out and ignoring her thoughts was the exact opposite of focus.

A shadow fell over her. Felix’s face screwed up when he noticed her hands, and he grabbed her forearm. He pulled her towards the door of the cabin, and she didn’t miss the way he took extra care to avoid the parts of her skin which she’d rubbed raw.

Rose offered some feeble resistance and waved her free arm towards the bucket. “We shouldn’t leave it there, it’s a tripping hazard.”

The withering glare she received from the young man made her wilt and she stopped pulling against his lead. She wasn’t sure what she had expected their destination to be, but of all the places in the bowels of the ship, the kitchen was the last to cross her mind.

It became clear why they were there however, when Felix showed her hands to Leroy, who beelined for one of his cupboards and pulled out a little green box.

“You’ve been pushing her too hard, Felix. There’s no reason for her hands to be this raw.”

“Don’t blame me, she did this to herself. If I hadn’t realised her behaviour this morning was far too peculiar then she would’ve kept scrubbing the deck until nightfall,” he protested.

Right after, he turned to Rose with a sheepish expression and put a hand on her shoulder. “That was harsh, sorry. I’m right though, aren’t I? If something’s wrong you can tell us. We’re your crew now, that means we support each other.”

Her cheeks warmed a little. “Ow!” she yelped. Leroy was a little rough of hand, despite taking measured care to not irritate her wounds further while he bandaged him. It wasn’t his fault. The calluses on his palms were thick and grainy from years in the kitchen.

“Sorry, lass. Bear with me, I’m almost done. I don’t think you’ll be of much use around here for the rest of the journey.”

“I don’t want to be dead weight. There must be something I can do.”

“Look, I know what you’re going through. Been there myself, plenty of times. None of us want you to hurt yourself. Nothing we say is going to change your mind though, I know that. If I was you, I’d speak with Jordan. You might feel better afterwards. Or you won’t, but it will at least give you something to do that isn’t self torture.”

Felix looked as though he wanted to say something, but his eyes widened at Leroy’s remark and he cut himself short. The chef finished bandaging her hands.

Rose realised in hindsight that she was an idiot. Without the use of her hands, she wouldn’t be able to draw or write. That meant the task the captain had entrusted to her, to log the ship’s journey, would need to be put on hiatus. A thought occurred to her and she giggled out loud, startling the two men.

“Has she gone crazy?” asked Felix, sharing a worried look with Leroy.

“I hope not. Would be a shame for the smartest member of the crew to lose her marbles.”

“What? Smartest? Outrageous.”

“Smarter than you at least, you oaf.”

“I’m not crazy. It’s just hilarious. I’ve lost the ability to get my drawing and writing to level 10, at least until my hands are healed. Those were the two skills I thought would be my best shot at getting my third trait. Or sailing, though I won’t be doing much of that either.”

“Don’t beat yourself up, Rose. It’s still impressive as hell to have two traits already,” said Felix, pulling her into a hug.

“No, you don’t understand. I earnt my third trait. In cleaning.”

“That is pretty funny,” said Leroy, belly fat rippling as he started to chuckle.

A deep, resonant bellow echoed through the ship, interrupting the trio mid conversation. The men shot to their feet, Felix rushing straight to the deck while Leroy made his way behind the kitchen counter. The large man grabbed his largest kitchen knife, a razor sharp blade almost thirty centimetres long and then followed after Felix.

“What’s happening?”

“Trouble. Stay here. Don’t come out, whatever happens.”

If Rose was a sensible girl, perhaps she would have stayed in the kitchen. If she stayed in the kitchen however, she wouldn’t be able to see what was going on.

Curiosity killed the cat, but she was as slippery as an eel.

It was a struggle to make her way back to the main deck with her hands bandaged, but she got there in the end. Loud shouts and the sound of ropes whipping through the air came from beyond the door.

When she pushed it open, a flurry of activity greeted her. Every member of the crew was rushing about and yelling to each other.

Rose looked over the railings, and saw another ship in the distance. It had white sails, and was on a direct course for the Unrequited Love. That wasn’t what caught her attention, however.

Flying at the top of the other ship’s masts were two small black flags, bearing a mark that every man, woman and child the world over would recognise in a heartbeat.

“Pirates to port, all hands on deck. War footing,” yelled Derrick.