Embedded in the fabrics of an old white sail that pretended to be a gown, Mr. Wisps swung a wooden sword over the new recruits, who were kneeling in a row on the ship’s deck. The mug on his other hand moved to the beat of his shakes, spilling the warm ale over the unfortunate new sailors of the Navy.

“This is the wood of my new home!” said the bo'sun, accentuating solemnity to a ridiculous level and hitting a young Parni-man on the head. It was a scene that traced to Hafiz ‘old memories. The blow, strong and direct, was not as hard as one which the boatswain gifted him during his own baptism. Still, it made the new mate groan in pain.

The other recruits, confused and scared like Hafiz was, waited for their turn with hints of disgust caused by the sight of Wisps shoving the hot beer down his victim’s throat with no care. “This is the drink of my new brothers-”

“I don’t understand how Richard agrees to this.” Genet whispered, breaking the self-absorption that the ritual had placed on Hafiz. “He is against superstitions.”

“Well. Capn’ Bainon takes traditions seriously as well, so he is fine with it as long as we do it when he is not around.”

“There’s a city waiting for us! Why are you so slow, ohmii?” Shouted Kilio from the boarding net.

Genet adjusted his jacket. “Shall we?”

It was the first time that Hafiz took the boat without having to row. Since he had started his training with the divers, Wisps had let him off the ship three times, but never with them. He followed Brian and Charlie for the first time. The tastes for greasy and smelly hovels of his mates led him to beg Todd to accompany him on the following outings.

Todd, who knew every secret corner of all ports in the North, took him to a coffeehouse of a small town of Aquilea, where Hafiz spent the night drinking coffee heated with sand and Todd spent hours enjoying the local tobacco, smoked in long pipes with water containers. The third and last time Wisps gave him a night off, His old mentor showed him the secrets of the endless docks of Sulissa, the port where he and Boboy had first come to the Nor’Wes.

More than a year later, now an experienced sailor and promising diver, he was going to enjoy the luxuries of high society of Linee, The capital of the Marquisate, which was, as sailors said, the most beautiful city in the world.

When they reached the dock, a carriage was waiting. Hafiz straightened up the uniform he had donned for the occasion. It was the outfit for inspections, and every piece was nearly new. Not elegant like Genet’s suit, but as his teacher had told him, enough for the dress codes of the upper city. ”Did you think we were going to waste the night in the same slums the others go to?" Genet said, when he saw the boy petrified in front of the carriage.

Romano chuckled. “Brother, do not worry, not all night will be in boring and pedantic places. We leave the real men’s fun for the end of the night.”

“If you want to sleep on a penny rope or get stabbed in an alley!” Genet said.

“The night won’t be full without a fight.” Kilio said. “But no staving! No one will dare to hurt you that much if you are with us. Maybe just a punch here and there.”

All the way, Hafiz couldn’t take his eyes off the windows. The streets of the areas next to the port were dirty and with an air of decadence that was not up to its fame. In the rich area of the upper city the impression of the young sailor improved. The streets, wide and clean, were surrounded by parks filled with elegant people parading in all directions. Still, if one paid attention, many rats running around and lurking in the corners could be seen between glamor and elegance. “I don’t think this is the most beautiful place in the world,” he said.

“Nonsense! You haven’t enjoyed all its pleasures yet.” The master diver did not wait for the carriage to stop and jumped suddenly, lunging with long strides towards a man in black who was at the entrance of a pleasant terrace filled with tables. The wide-open windows let out the notes of a violinist who played inside, a delicious music that none of the dozens of people walking along the broad avenue seemed to pay attention to.

When Hafiz tried to cross the metal fence, Kilio stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “We wait here.”

“There is a square I like a lot. It is in the neighborhood of the middle classes. It’s where all the couples date. There aren’t as many rats as here.” Romano said, while his brother was tightening the arm around Hafiz’s neck. The young man tried to get away, but Kilio’s powerful squeeze was unbreakable.

“The closer you get to poor areas, the fewer rats you will find,” Kilio murmured. “This city glitters a lot, but it’s not made of gold.”

Genet was having a very heated argument with the man in black, to the point it looked like he was going to hit him. “Maybe we won’t see any of that gold here.” Hafiz said.

“Nah. It’s always the same. All those pompous asses tense up when they see beans around. If it’s Chief alone, they accept him with an occasional gag, but when he shows up with us, they swoon.”

“Exactly,” Kilio said, tightening his grip. “They cannot handle our ivory charm.”

Romano’s white teeth burst out of the darkness. “Brother Hafiz is also charming, but needs a little more sun.”

Kilio released his neck to shake him amicably. Unlike his reserved and serious brother, he was more open and affectionate, although he only showed those signs of affection for whom he considered worthy of it. “Aye!, and a little more muscle too!” The reddish man dragged Hafiz to the terrace without the young man, who was much smaller than him, putting up any resistance.

“They let us eat at the corner. Far from respectable customers.” Genet complained intentionally out loud, so that the head server could hear him clearly.

“Better that way,” Romano said. “No one will bother us.” The annoyance on the Chief faded but just slightly. Luckily after two bottles of wine and several dishes of all kinds of seafood he returned to his usual self.

The dinner developed exactly as the many they had shared on the ship. Being surrounded by elegant people eating exotic meals did not seem to matter to any of them, who chatted loudly and ate with no decorum.

Both the adventures through the world of the brothers, and the tireless stories about diving of the Count were a lot of fun to hear and told with the most intense passion. Hafiz, as he always used to do, listened intently but in silence.

“When are they bringing the meat? I’m tired of fish,” Kilio said.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“No, not here, ohmee. How about ‘The golden piglet’? there, the meat is tastier,” answered his brother.

“Isn’t that the place they gave us cheese to hide the watered wine?”

“Yes. but I’m talking about meat.”

“Let’s go to 'The Windy Mill'!.” Genet said too loud, fueled by alcohol. The surrounding tables murmured and the head server reddened and, whether it was embarrassment or anger, the brothers enjoyed seeing him uncomfortable. “You two are the only men I ever met that don’t like to see half-naked women dancing!”

Kilio hit Hafiz’s back, who coughed and made the reddish man laugh even harder. Romano, seeing the young diver’s struggle, leaned over to offer a glass. “You see, ohmee Hafiz.” he said as if whispering, although he made sure that the chief diver could hear him well. “The men of the Marquisate are already happy just by seeing half.”

Genet’s guffaw scared the diners from all over the terrace. The head server, with exhausted patience, approached, ready to face them but stopped and turned when Genet signed him with his fingers to bring the payment note. “We are usually not this loud Mon’lad. only when they don’t like ‘beanies’.”

“Won’t that make them even more reticent next time?” Hafiz asked. Genet leaned back in his chair with an expression of complacency.

“In this city, there are more restaurants than people.” Kilio said. “We’ll go somewhere else.”

Romano stood up as Genet put an insane amount of coins on a silver platter. “Speaking of somewhere else...” said the reddish man. “We go to the taverns. Brother Hafiz, do you prefer a good time with dice and one or two brawls or waste your night watching women who let you see little and touch even less?”

“I’d really like some coffee, when I was with Todd in-” Kilio’s rolling eyes and Romano turning his back on him were enough clues they were not interested in hearing about coffee. Genet, on the other hand, welcomed the idea with enthusiasm. The Count lit his pipe and invited the young man to take the opposite direction than the reddish couple. “Actually, I rarely go to the cabaret anymore. Just the prospect of going allows me to get rid of those two. If I’m around, they don’t enjoy the night as much as the could and I also don’t like to sleep on a penny rope, so I always have it as a good excuse, even though they already know. They are smarter than a fox.”

“And what do you normally do?” Hafiz asked, as he stepped to the side of the sidewalk to let pass a man who was staggering from side to side.

“Well. Hotels here are like inns, but have bars like taverns. I usually drink one or two more before sleeping. But coffee and tobacco houses are another great option.”

Genet nodded grimly, pointing his chin at the house where the intoxicated man was repeatedly knocking on the door. “When my wife died, I used to end up in places like that. I was equal to or worse than that poor devil.”

“What’s that?”

“A dream house.” answered the Count, who looked away with discomfort. “A place where you can forget the real world. One day you find yourself willing to remain asleep forever and you ask them for more and more, and you sell them your house, your lands and your soul for it. Disgusting place, disgusting people.”

Genet quickened his pace in silence, and soon they reached the coffeehouse. The building, a glamorous villa with a garden at the entrance, was nothing like the one Todd had brought him weeks back. Here, instead of people sitting on rugs and cushions smoking around long hookahs, there were tables and leather sofas, with high-class gentlemen smoking expensive cigars and reading newspapers.

Genet had no problem entering this time. On the contrary, the manager received him with extreme courtesy and some diners even greeted them with cordial nods.

“Which type of coffee do you like best, Mon’lad?” Genet said.

“I enjoyed the one they heated with sand.”

“I’m afraid we heat our coffee only the civilized way here mon’Count, but I suppose the lord’s amidee refers to Al-Madahani varieties. May I recommend an Ilinsabad?“ Said the server as he offered a box of cigars that neither Hafiz nor Genet accepted. ”Ilinsabad will do. And pipe tobacco for me: Racasso with vanilla. And bring a bottle of Pogronette brandy with the coffee."

The snobbery of the place was too much for Hafiz. For someone like him, Todd's coffee house was more pleasant, although the drink they served him in this establishment was by far the best he ever drank.

“What are your dreams, young Hafiz?” Genet asked, with a certain absence both in his words and in his person. “I mean what would you like to do or achieve in life. Your aspirations.”

Hafiz sipped from the cup slowly, giving himself time to think of an answer. “Before, I only thought of earning money for my family and one day returning to my village, spending my days fishing like my father did.”

“And now?”

“I like what you’re teaching me. I want to learn as much as I can and become a master diver myself, and when I get out of the Navy, teach the craft to the southern villagers, a job that can bring them some prosperity.”

Genet snuggled up on his sofa and took a loud draw from his pipe. “Not bad, not bad.”

“Do you have dreams?”

The Count smiled, but his eyes were telling the contrary. “Oh Mon’lad. I had many. All of them shared with my Caroline, but well… after her demise, the only dreams I sought were the ones in the opium house. Those were the sweetest and bitterest traps anyone can face. When you’re done dreaming, if you even end it, you are dead or an empty shell of the man you used to be.” Genet sighed. “Oh, what a conversation for a night of fun, uh? I’m the funniest fella of the party.”

“Is all right, Sir. That's the past. Now you’re doing great.”

“I suppose. All thanks to the brothers. Great fellas, those two. I wouldn’t be here if not for them.”

With his mouth full of that delicious elixir Hafiz raised his lips. “That’s funny, because they also said the same about you: That you saved them.”

“I suppose that makes me a great fella too, right?” The Count chuckled while leaned backwards on his sofa, blowing out an enormous cloud of smoke that hid his face almost entirely. “If I had a dream, I would share the brothers’. They want to go to the Sou’Eas. To the Blue, have you ever heard of it?” Hafiz nodded side to side. “Is a place in the middle of the Ring of Commerce with endless shallows of coral and thousands of islands where people live in harmony regardless of nation or color. We’ll build a dive bell and spend our days exploring those reefs.”

“It sounds great, Chief.” Hafiz said, feeling he could share that dream as well.

“You doing great Mon’lad. Soon you will be ready to be a master diver yourself. When the Navy is done with you, if you go back home, look for us in… what?”

Hafiz turned to the direction Genet frowned. Standing in the entrance, Kilio and Romano were chatting with the manager, who had no problem letting them in, although their humble linen shirts and short cargo pants were not up to the standards.

“What are you doing here? Lost all the money gambling?” Genet asked.

“I always lose, but never all of it.” Kilio said. “It’s something different, boss.”

Hafiz tensed. The brothers called Genet ‘boss’ only when the matter was extremely serious.

“Herjard has declared war on Northislay. We are required to go back on the ship.”