Marisol followed Victor reluctantly up the main street, and along the way, they picked up Reina—who scowled at her by the entrance of the Highwind Inn—as well as the three Imperators who’d intercepted them at the foyer a week ago. The trio was two men and one woman, and they all shared the same suspicious look Reina had as Victor waved cheerily at his niece.
Fidgeting nervously and looking away, Marisol averted her eyes from the four Imperators as they continued trudging up towards 'Lighthouse Seven' at the very top of the street; she’d been told not to leave her room, after all, but things should be fine. Victor was here. He’d deal with all the irritating bureaucracy for her.
[Well, try not to push him too much. He could get annoyed as well and leave you out to dry.]
No way, right?
[...]
Right?
Receiving no response from the Archive, she grumbled under her breath as they neared the entrance to Lighthouse Seven. Much like most buildings in the Whirlpool City, calling the lighthouse ‘big’ would be an understatement; at fifty metres in height, the half-stone half-metal construct was easily the largest building she’d ever seen, and the giant blue banner with the crest of the Imperators hung on the wall was so bright she could see its wrinkles from fifty metres away. It was still early in the day, but she had no doubt the lantern at the top would sparkle like the moon at night… and for a brief second, she had to remind herself the lighthouse most likely wasn’t built just as a landmark.
As Victor and Reina beckoned her through the massive archway, up a spiralling flight of stairs, and into the glass lantern room at the very top of the lighthouse, she quickly understood why there were lighthouses built around the volcano’s crater.
… Whoa.
The city’s really big, ain’t it?
She was dumbstruck. The glass lantern room at the top of the lighthouse was, as its name suggested, made entirely out of glass. Beyond the fairly large conference room where a long rectangular table and half a dozen chairs sat, there was the entire rest of the volcano to stare out at—she wasted no time glueing herself onto one of the glass walls, first taking in the view of the sprawling Whirlpool City running five hundred metres down to the harbour beneath her, and then taking in the view of the rest of the volcano.
More specifically, she took in the massive kilometre-wide whirlpool in front of the lighthouse.
Instead of magma in the volcano's crater, it was just water: sparkling, frothy, swirling water. The roar of the whirlpool was so loud she could hear its relentless growling even fifty metres above the surface, and the current moved with a rhythm that made it seem as though a giant leviathan was breathing in and out. The water near the core was much darker than the water near the perimeter as well, the blue fading into a deep, inky black. She almost lost herself staring into the abyss when she noticed six more identical lighthouses built along the circular crater, evenly spaced so as to provide a lookout for any bug that might be trying to crawl out of the whirlpool—each of those must be an Imperator Lighthouse just like this one, then.
Seven colossal lighthouses overlooking a single whirlpool…
Do they really have enough eyes on the whirlpool to keep the city safe? she thought, glancing at the Archive on her shoulder as she did. This is an awfully wide whirlpool. The textbooks ain’t did it any justice. Even the giant remipede stretched out to its full length wouldn’t be able to touch opposite ends of the whirlpool at once–
[Please refrain from disrespecting the Imperatrix in his own lantern room.]
[Look in front of you.]
At the Archive’s suggestion, she tore her eyes away from outside the lighthouse to look inside instead… and she gulped. Immediately. Victor had taken one of the chairs and was already lying face-down on the rectangular table, snoring loudly. The three Imperators who’d tried to intercept him stood along the glass wall behind him, frowning at his distasteful behaviour. Reina was the only still standing next to her, beckoning her towards the end of the room where a large man in a fur coat stood with his back against all of them—his bright blue chitin arms were crossed behind him as he stared quietly down at the whirlpool, and even without speaking a single word, the small hairs on her nape lifted.
Her arms itched to extend her Preapical Claws, and her glaives tried to spark lightning by themselves; fear coiled so thickly inside her she felt sick, and she couldn’t take a few steps forward to greet the man properly.
What’s the ‘proper’ greeting in the Deepwater Legion Front, anyways?
Do I bow? Should I have bought a gift? Do I break out into a dance and–
With her scorpion tail, Reina slipped a wrapped candy into Marisol’s trembling hands and nodded—then, the prim and proper lady backed off, joining her three subordinates behind Victor as Marisol stared back at her blankly.
…
She ended up taking a deep breath and sighing reluctantly, squeezing the candy in her palm.
What am I, a child? she grumbled, unwrapping the amber-coloured candy and popping it into her mouth as she skated forward, her heart still hammering against her ribs. Oh, the candy’s really sour though. Who would’ve guessed a lady like Reina would like sweets like this?
[Most inhabitants of the Whirlpool City are quite fond of sour confectionaries. This is because sea salt harvested from the walls of the whirlpool is particularly nutritious and healthy compared to every other salt on the continent, which has to do with the unique aquatic ecosystems in Depths One to–]
Tell me about it later.
What do I do right now?
[Just bow. The Imperatrix is not a stickler for formalities.]
She stopped at the end of the table—just a few metres away from the most powerful man in the city—and bowed awkwardly with one hand lifting the back of her cloak.
“... Um. Hello,” she said, clearing her throat as she raised her head and stood upright. “I’m Marisol Vellamira, Sand-Dancer from the Luzde Desert. It is my pleasure to be in the presence of the–”
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
“Sit,” the Imperatrix rumbled, and she skated back out of fright, bumping into the end of the table which she immediately sat upon. Maybe she should do it properly again and sit on one of the chairs, but it didn’t seem like he cared as long as she wasn’t standing. “So the rumours are true, after all—a second idiot has picked the Water Strider Class, and wherever she goes, her glaives carve up and damage the floor. Just what should I do with you, lass?”
It was a rhetorical question. She knew it, everyone knew it; she still felt compelled to answer.
“Maybe… get a self-repairing carpet from the Rampaging Hinterland Front in the northeast?” she offered, throwing a nervous smile onto her face. “That’s the front with the most advanced Hexsteel technologies, right? I bet… they have something… that’ll keep your floors safe from… me…”
She trailed off, not wanting to finish her sentence. Just because he ain’t a stickler for formalities doesn’t mean you can joke at him like that, idiot. A soft sigh escaped the Imperatrix, and she and everyone else behind her froze. She could see little of his face with his back turned towards her, but his spiky white hair was slicked-back and his fur coat looked twice as heavy as she was—he looked the kind of man who could snap her in half with just two of his fingers.
Help me, Archive.
[You brought this on yourself.]
Hey. Aren’t you supposed to be my ally–
“That’s what the last Hasharana with the Water Strider Class told me as well,” the Imperator muttered, shaking his head in dismay as he turned around. Marisol blinked. The man… looked surprisingly normal from the front. He may be twice as large as any other man in the city, but his Imperator uniform was the same as everyone else’s, and if not for the eyepatch over his right eye—and the bone-rattling aura he gave off, she supposed—there was a decent chance she could’ve mistaken him for just any old grandpa on the street.
But he was no grandpa—probably—and he was also the lord of the city.
The man who’d fought alongside the Worm God nearly three decades ago, when Corpsetaker first tried to break out of the Whirlpool City.
“... I am Andres Balboa, Harbour Imperatrix of the Whirlpool City,” he said, arms still crossed behind him as he glowered down at her, chin tilted up. “You don’t really care about me, and I couldn’t care less about where you came from or what you want, so I’ll cut to the chase—you were the one who slayed that Mutant skeleton shrimp two weeks ago, correct?”
Marisol blinked. “Um. Yes?”
“Did you have any formal training in any of the other Hexsteel Fronts? The Luzde Desert is close to the Attini Empire Front, is it not? Were you trained by the Empire?”
“Uh… no?”
“So you were just a ‘Sand-Dancer’? What did you do all day? Dance… on the sand?”
“Yes?”
“Then you are just like that other water strider bastard.” Andres chuckled, and she heard Victor half-chuckling, half-snoring behind her as well. “I guess the Worm God’s Altered Hexsteel Systems really only give the Water Strider Class to people with death wishes. Nobody else is capable of controlling the water strider’s mutations, let alone discover its unique Hexichor Art. I trust Victor has already briefed you on what's going on in the city?”
Marisol scowled back at the man whose face was still down on the table, pretending to be asleep. “Not really. I know 'Black Storm' is active because… Corpsetaker and his bugs are calling bugs from all over the Deepwater Legion Front to the city, and you ain't really know what the bugs are planning–"
“Simply put, we’re running low on manpower, and we want you work alongside us as Harbour Imperators,” Andres said curtly, shooting a scowl back at Victor as well. “I won’t bore you with the details, but we don't want you to be an official Imperator. We want you to join us on daily patrols and investigative dives into the whirlpool, but as an acting Hasharana not subservient to any of your commanding officers. In short, you’ll be like Victor back when he was still diving with us—you’re reinforcements sent by the Worm God, but you aren’t one of us. Feel free to abandon us anytime you want, and we’ll do the same with you.”
“... And you want to get me down to 'Depth Nine' for some reason?”
Andres shrugged. “I heard you bought a roundtrip ticket to and from the Whirlpool City so you can buy a vial of healing seawater for your mother, but as long as ‘Black Storm’ is active, no vials will be sold, and no ship will be permitted to leave. I take it you have no plans on plucking your grey hairs out on this island of a volcano?”
Marisol pursed her lips. The sooner the Imperators determined the city was no longer in danger from the bugs within the whirlpool, the sooner ‘Black Storm’ would be lifted. Now, there was a question as to how much Marisol could really help with the Imperators’ duties—she was just one girl, for the Great Makers’ sake—but if it was a toss-up between doing nothing and helping expedite her journey home with a vial of healing seawater in hand, then there really wasn’t a choice here.
She’d already made up her mind a week ago, and she wasn’t about to backtrack on it.
Her journey wasn't quite over until she could sand-dance with her mama again.
“... I don’t,” she replied, forcing a small, defiant smile onto her face as she grinned up at the Imperatrix. “I want in. I'll get my ass down to Depth Nine to bottle up a vial of healing seawater, and then I'll get my ass out of this city right after, 'Black Storm' or not."
"You're confident."
"Four thousand two hundred and eighty-six kilometres," she said, shrugging slightly. "I've made it that far already. How deep and dangerous can this 'Depth Nine' be, anyways?"
Andres snorted. "And why should I let a civilian take part in our battles?"
"You're the ones who want me."
"True. You have an Archive, so you'll be useful if you can get down to Depth Nine. We always need more people capable of diving down to Depth Nine for research and patrols."
"Then–"
"The question is whether you can get down to Depth Nine or not," Andres finished. "I would send everyone down to figure out what Corpsetaker's planning by calling bugs from all over if I could, but it's not that easy for people to go that deep. It requires training. Strength of will. Even Imperators who have trained for years cannot–"
"And I’ll tell you right now that I don’t have any mutations fit for underwater, but I don't really care," she finished as well, looking straight at him. "I'm getting my vial of healing seawater and going back to mama. If you're gonna stop me, now's your chance."
A pause.
Tense silence.
Then Andres snorted again, looking over her head.
“… Well. I think, with our equipment, that you’ll find manoeuvring in our whirlpool is not so different to manoeuvring on land or water,” Andres interrupted, nodding at Reina and the three Imperators beside her. “Now, I'm sure my subordinates are glad you're so eager to help us out, and Victor and some of the Harbour Guards may vouch for your skill, but I'm not so easily convinced. If you want to join us on our Depth Nine investigation mission in eight months, you must pass my preliminary induction exam. Succeed, and I will at least acknowledge your competence and let you join us on missions in the Upper Depths first.”
She didn’t have time to ask what failing would mean. All of a sudden, Victor picked her up by her collar and dragged her towards the glass wall closest to the window, slipping a light metal harness over her torso at the same time. The straps were made of thin, flexible silver wires, and so the only heavy part of the harness was the sapphire gemstone core that went over her chest, pulsing and glowing with soft blue light. It looked rather pretty, so she didn’t even protest until Victor pushed a hidden glass door open—and the sharp, cutting winds of the whirlpool reached all the way up here.
As Victor fastened the final straps on her harness with a happy hum and Reina guided her three Imperator subordinates forward—who were also wearing identical harnesses—Andres, the stern-looking old man, looked up at the giant clock dangling from the ceiling.
“... There is no time limit, but only you or the three of them new Imperator recruits will be climbing out of the whirlpool on two feet,” he said, a smirk tugging on the corner of his lips as Victor pushed her out of the lantern room, so quickly and suddenly she didn’t have the time to react at all. “I don’t care what strategy you use as long as only one side emerges from the whirlpool victorious. Defeat the three of them in a mock battle, and I will allow you to join our ranks as an acting Hasharana. If not, you will sit in this city and do nothing until 'Black Storm' is deactivated.”
And then she fell, blinking in confusion all the way down until her back hit the swirling whirlpool.