"You know they say that the next ship is coming in the next fortnight."
"Fortnight? I thought the Cloud Bandits blockaded the route and are making so shipping is barely profitable."
"They are, it just the transmission came in when around the time a grade 1 storm surge came in, it even had the potential for grade 2."
"Insane... This empire is already on the fritz with the merchant wars and trade has gone down by 30% in the last hundred years."
"Yea... well we might as well close the stream port for tonight, remember to refill the lighthouse before locking up."
Two workers in coveralls stood up from the small card table.
"Hey, do you hear a ship?"
"Nonsense, it's pass hours. They would have to anchor in a harbour-"
CRASH
"Coughing... Are you fucking insane boy?!"
"Sorry! Freak.... I almost had it."
Two days earlier~
Ah.... open sky and we're almost to River's
Dawn City. A couple more moments and I'll go back to communications. I might as well do some ship studying, I've never had an interest in merchant sailing before much less knew anything about it till now.
Sitting atop the main mast's crow nest, a young lad no more than 15 or 16 years of age with long burgundy hair and a culture and eccentricity aura look wistfully at the sky time to time. In his hand held a very compact book with little words and schematics of the ship he was currently on a voyage on. Bored the lad slipped the book into a coat pocket.
The city that I lived in for the past 15 years still came to me as a surreal dream or nightmare. Consistent studying, albeit censored, and martial arts training in a private world of stagnant was my solace. Martial arts are the only way I could vent in that place while studying prove to me there was the world out there to be explored. I solely devoted my efforts and talent, the little I had, into training and seeking new knowledge, the rarer or random the better.
Hence I quickly became the 'Welkin, the young genius of the century', of course entirely senseless rumour was ignited by the bored homemakers that held more pride in their bloodline rather than life. There was an adage that men would say going out to brothels or gamble halls,'The Hen pecking the nest again" the nest being the man's business and the hen, well it pretty self-explanatory. Though of course, it's probably the woman who bring back bread to the house in this matriarchal society. One way or the other it somehow convinces the elders of the clan council to allow me on a diplomatic mission. Not out of goodwill, the elder most likely used this excuse of 'he's strong enough, let him go' in hope I meet my death.
The book was fairly new, considering that every ship log had to be updated periodically every launching. I couldn't help to be distracted by the vast sky and skim the contents. The sky was so different than the smog, or the 'industrial effect' as the nobility humorously called it. But ou here you'd think that the sky was just the city's sky, however, you would be mistaken. The air thins, blood madly rushes around your body, the sun isn't the focal point anymore and the gentlest winds seem to behave like crashing tsunamis. Without training a magic art you would definitely be swept up by the air currents.
Ship Model: Light Air Sloop
Able- Yes
ShipFunction: Merchant
Class: Ox
Max Sailors: 50 of 100
Fathoms: 50,000
Guns: 7
Armed
Envelopes: 8
Semi-Rigid
Looking down on deck the hired crew grinned foolishly as it's their first job in years. Eyes full of hope and desperate stares on the horizon to see the setting of their depression that has ravaged and essentially sold the empire into a plutarchy. Afraid of working too fast or too slowly the hands were jittery making a mistake or two. Raising the emotional stakes within their hearts. Ten have already died from the excitement of the first week. Falling into the cerulean blue not knowing which way was up or down. Crippling themselves in machinery below deck then preceding to fall under the Oil Sickness.
"I wonder, how many years will this depression last for. Ten more, twenty, thirty, another century? I don't live in this backwards empire... much less fix it with all the plutarchy has done to prevent it." Mumbling to myself a freak of nature twitches his ears and curls his lips from the main deck. The man was also known as captain, a true freak of nature. Not only are men not innately apt to the sky like women, they also aren't as meticulous. Freak completely disregarded this common sense and developed his own trading company a century and a half ago. Luck, OCD or the other strange habits like doing things of three or four's pertaining to odd and even things.
"Ah don't be so down young master, there's lots of new to be depressed and repressed by! Just worry about having a new experience and enjoying the warm currents that foster the sails forwards!"
Yea, I know. The Freak is right, I can't always make a pity-party for myself everytime I think of my expendable role. Let's just enjoy the voyage. The reason I'm here.
"Thanks, captain!"
"Oh and while you're up ther' look for some bandit airships!"
"...Bastard."
Hearing me the Freak or more commonly known as the captain, laughs and barks some orders at some overly excited sailors with poor results leading to a more cheery mood.
Regardless of the couple deaths, the morale of the Green Linnet soared almost to joyous tears from the promised payment at the end of the voyage. At night, singing and dancing rang into the darkness. Women and men drank to sides of the ship, giving their... alcohol deposit, to the black clouds beneath.
Caught up in the skyfaring I make new memories for the next couple days. Having my first sailor's meal which consisted of a mysterious light-weight meat that could fill a stomach from small amounts. My family super advisor "strongly" advised me not to eat it without even acknowledging my existence and walking passed me, "Young master think of your image, that slop is no better than dog chow" out of duty and preceded to his cabin to finalise the top secret document that was to be delivered.
My first compass lesson that came with a free compass from the captain himself. The word free has nigh disappeared from the depression which had made me evaluate the captain a little higher.
My first introduce knowledge of the outside world. An entirely new branch of vocabulary, from what they called it... ah, sailor talk. I learnt over hundreds of new words and sayings that most had some sort of vulgarity in it.
My first kiss... taken by that drunk freak. If he was alright in my books before, now he is just a freak. I vomit so much I wouldn't be surprised if a mountain settlement thousands of fathoms down thought the spirits were cursing them.
The most influential and remarkable memory however without a doubt would have been the day of the duels that took place.
On that morning of the small tournament, the crew got a little too excited. 'Idle hands beget the devil's means' the Freak said.
Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
"Al' rightly you little shits. You forced my hand, a tournament starts at high noon!"
"Aye!!!!" The crew almost acted like dogs being promised a treat I was naturally confused.
"What tournament? What are the rules? How do you prevent people from falling overbroad-
"Shut up boy. You'll know soon. And if yer' have the guts you can get in too."
The Freak laughed and later ordered the somewhat undermanned airship into a new manoeuvre from the unpredictable winds. The winds could be gentle as a feather or as sharp as a blade, unpredictable and dangerous, in short thrilling. This didn't halt progress but certainly made the engines worth their frightening cost.
A couple hours at noon's end after fighting the sky's breath the men fell to the ground while the women were barely keeping their demeanour as tough as the sky tales told by their fathers. Proving yet again another reason why women naturally took a matriarchal position in society, the men were designed for the ground, unlike the women. Nevertheless, the de facto deterred no one.
Ragged of breath the Freak declared "Father Wind, you've been hateful today, taking up bird clearing duty. Why don't you find a person to test your might and leave the birds alone for another day? Ah, as promise let proceed to the tournament. Everyone knows the rules but little Welkin, so I'll explain for his sake and yours."
The crowd groaned and the majority closed their eyes to regain some strength from the day's work while the other started some private chats over betting. Predicting who would win and who would fall to their doom.
"Rule number one, no intentional, direct or indirect killing. punishable by forced labour
Rule number two, no breaking or battling against or with the safety cord.
Rule number three, no bullying, teaching a life lesson is, of course, a must sometimes.
Rule number four, a Floating coal must be on close hand or body at all times
Rule number five, challenges are affirmed via the captain, otherwise known as this one." Smiling at the distraught sailors, who knew the captain liked a good show whether long or terribly short.
The man just loves the violence of it all.
“Hahaha, Ruben you’ve been feeling a proud of yer's selve because of a little breakthrough in your Art? I think I’d see it before I believe it.”
A greyed and black haired man on the edge of his golden years laughed on a crate in good humour.
“Alright, just don’t break your hip gramps.” soft and steady words sounded from an early twenties man step forth into the makeshift ring of crates.
If this was in any other place than an airship this behaviour would be rude to the extreme. City denizens demand a certain type of respect that is deeply engrained into their doctrines, religion, creed, you name it. ‘Beat me up for weakness, but don’t insult me for my weakness’. Brutish in nature it appealed to the brutish nature of the country. In a way it brought an entire humility to a population, ceasing unnecessary conflict from petty remarks or opinions.
Contrasting in the sky, what morals could exist other than the once you brought up. It creates a mirror for a person to realise their true nature. Which is essential for survival. Traits, particularly physical or speech, could tell a story for a seasoned jack. For an amateur like Welkin, all he could think was ‘such impudence’. Neither respected each other or even made a attempts to. Albeit in good fun, couldn’t this lead to tragedy?
“I bet my money on~... the young fellow, Ruben was it? Underdogs are always a treat when they win.”
“Nah, the two obviously have conflicting natures. The boy is passive while gramps is aggressive. I’d bet money on the old man, passive arts are typically stronger in old age.”
“Hmm… I’m guessing the gramps will win in~ ah, within ten moves.”
Confident in one their own ability the two partisans bet a small portion on themselves. To prevent any suspecting cheating.
As the crew frivolous in speech eventually had the majority betting on the old man, no one quite noticed the subtly placed wink between the old man and Ruben. Except for Welkin, who just so happen to capture the exchange did not understand the complex workings outside of his shielded noble house. There was no way Welkin who was raised innocently could not fathom this shamefulness.
‘Huh? Are they taunting each other? If so… why is it so unnoticed by the crew, are they that absorb into bragging about their forethought on the fight?’ Innocent to a fault Welkin believed he was witnessing bad sportsmanship and no one cared.
A certain freak swaggered from gin to Welkin bemused. “Boy, tell me, how did you discover the ploy made by those second rate cons?”
“Ploy? Aren’t they taunting each other since they have no dignity?” Somewhat upset Welkin furrowed his brows.
Eyes widen and teetering on his heel, the Freak gave a brass-like laugh that boomed the ear. Maybe due to his chubby physique, the sound travelled throughout the entire night like a drum.
“You’re far too innocent for this harsh world. It’s a good thing that you’re engaged to warrior noble and not another stupid merchant.”
Furious and defeated by the truth Welkin Zi Truze could only accept the reality that he, an expendable of the family, hit the jackpot regarding the family he was to marry into. But it did not mean his acceptance of it all had come to acquiescence within himself.
“Shut up, I don’t even care much about it all. It’s my duty so I’ll fulfil it.” Mumbling under my words, the Freak shakes his head.
“Lad, live for yourself. Blueblood is no different from red blood. Everybody runs out some day.”
Before I could speak a loud thud came from the deck. Turning to the duel, two men struck each other’s punch, creating small red sparks and a falling green mist from the collision.
“You little brat only been two years and it seems you’ve made a breakthrough in your art.”
The younger of the two grinned and retreated at a fast pace. Following him, the old man seemed disappointed and a sad sort of gratification.
“You have grown up, you used to always fall for my Collective Fist art every time.”
Weak, almost flickering green and red areas envelops the two.
A sharp and fuzzy, plant-like, inducing odour erupted from the Ruben. Pulling out a deep green kitchen knife from the accumulated aura while a burnt rock or the smell of a flint being struck smell waft from the now congealed red energy on the old man’s fists.
Pressing forward with a smile, Ruben crouch holding the palm-sized knife sidewise as if it would parry the massive force that was the old man's fists.
Crack! A low hum emitting from a red gloves rupture. The old man clearly astonished look back forth at Ruben and his left fist.
"Boy... You've really come far... I think you're still gonna lose with that small knife of yours."
Visibly angered, Ruben stayed true to his passive personality and maintain a stance where the knife slanted diagonally as if the be on the defence yet could strike at any time.
Regaining his breath and left red glove the old man crossed Ruben for the third round, and the fourth, fifth, sixth all up to the ninth round. For most nobles, this fight would appear like children fighting, however, for regular civilians and Welkin who never witness a duel, this was two proud gladiators clashing against one anther. Creating small and long scratches on the deck along with gusts of compressed air from the collisions were proof on a great fight.
Painting and losing speed the two came to the regular speed of the average person. Still exchanging blows Ruben yelled.
"Viper Strike!"
The green aura burst with its final remaining energy shooting the green knife upwards like a snake as the old man went slicing gramps shirt in two.
Obvious who won the fight was not the old man whom blankly blinked as if remembering old times. Shaking his head to himself look towards Ruben and gave a short but dignified nod.
“You owe me a new shirt.”
The crew, somewhat despondent fell silent. Then remembered this was the first fight they've seen in the year. Regardless of who won, like the Freak, the more violent the better. Like fireworks, they boomed with swearing and laughter.
Then appeared, like the melted snow of the mountains, small streams lines of tears from their eyes, losing even a single copper coin was painful for the average citizen. Pooling together the total amount of thirty copper coins split upon three people two crew mates who like an underdog, and the Freak, the designer of it all, winning the majority, profited up to twenty coins.
The crew although excited still studied the three winners, the two underdog-loving idiots most likely threw the bet in for fun without regard due to the astound ish faces they wore when receiving their amount. Looking at the Captain, most had no time to think about who they were suspecting of cheating they instantly refute the accusation with the impressive reputation the Captain had for equity even in the face of unfair expenditures. Especially in the almost free housing, he provided for the poor. Sighing and counting the loses, they remembered their promised earnings at the end of the shipment. Many making oaths to not squandered any more money till they had the wealth to do so.
Welkin being naive, did not mean it affects determine his instincts were defective. When the crowd scanned for injustice Welkin felt a cold sweat go down his back as they seemed to be able to see any wrong doings. The Freak played it cool, simply giving a happy smile, more importantly, surprised smile that could have fooled anyone other than Welkin who heard it himself from the captain, the game was rigged.
Glancing from the Freak to the crew, Welkin gains a new insight of the world he had to be so every carefully protected from. Noticing the boy's reaction the captain smiled to himself. And had an almost too true thought.
'Haahaha, his family should be paying me for the lesson I just gave you. You don't really see the con artist to the very end and if you do then he's a shitty con. The boy is a... fawn, yea, still, bow-legged and not aware of what kind of cruel world this place can be.'
Walking to his quarters for rest the Freak stopped and turn to Welkin, who was walking up to him.
"I guess I'm a shitty con?"
Welkin too stunned and bewildered stood still for a while and found the Freak gone.
"This world is truly too much at times."
Tired from the excitement Welkin retire for the night.
The next morning brought upon a change of fate for the crew and Welkin as a single yell could be heard throughout the entire airship via pipes.
"Bandit! Fuckings Bandits are on the port side! Get up you Bastards!"