Baffled by his sudden shift in attitude, Delia regarded him with confusion. “You’re just going to tell us?” She questioned. “Just like that?”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “I was going to tell you three, anyway. Why do you think I invited you in?”

“I’m sorry Cap,” Jeremy said with equal scepticism. “But what was the point of all…” He gestured with his hands, moving them up and down as though presenting something. “All of that?” he asked.

“I was just teasin’ you, I guess?” Greg said innocently.

“I…” Jeremy shook his head. “No, I don’t see.”

Her Pa sighed. “You guys will be off into the big, wide world now. I’m just makin’ sure you’re ready for it, I guess.”

Delia was used to her Pa teaching life lessons through experience, or taking the backseat and letting one figure it out for themselves. But a prank? That was a first. She turned to see Jeremy’s reaction, watching his jaw slacken as he struggled to come up with a response before she shifted her attention to Jonah, who seemed indifferent as usual. She doubted he was even keeping up with the conversation.

“What did you expect?” Her Pa continued. “For me to start shoutin’ ‘You can’t handle the truth’?” He waited with a smirk, as though expecting them to laugh. “No? Never mind then.”

“Why?” Delia asked, finally finding herself.

Greg furrowed his brows, and he tilted his head slightly as he turned to her. 'Why what?' he asked, his voice laced with confusion

“Why did you hide this from us?”

“I don't know what ‘this’ is, but it would be for the same reasons as I hide anythin’,” he said. “Because you didn't need to know. To let you focus on more important things. To keep you safe.”

As he gazed at her, he settled back into his seat, his body language becoming more at ease. His facial features relaxed, and the lines on his face deepened, revealing the toll of the passing years; It seemed as though time was fast-forwarding before Delia’s very eyes.

“I hide things because tellin’ you them will do more harm than good. But we’re now at a point that not tellin’ you will do the same. So I’ll tell you what you want to know, Del, but I need to know what you know first. That way, I can fill in the gaps in your knowledge and correct your assumptions, which you’ve no doubt gone and made.”

She studied him carefully, her gaze panning over his familiar face, inspecting the creases etched by time. Her gaze scrutinised every blink and shift in expression, searching for any hint of deception. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, and her palms clenching the soft fabric of her dress as she considered his words.

"I promise to tell you everything, Del," he said softly.

She was about to say no when the comforting weight of a hand pressed against her shoulder. She looked up, seeing Jonah give an imperceptible nod.

“Fine,” she said reluctantly.

Her Pa smiled warmly. "Let's start with the Sirens, then. It seems like I slept through that part."

----------------------------------------

Delia lost track of time as she recounted the tale of the Sirens and filled her Pa in on their conversation with Khaleel. By the time she had finished, Karl knocked on the door, announcing that breakfast was ready in the galley.

“Could you bring it over here, please?” her Pa asked the boatswain. He nodded, before promptly dashing out of the room. Once he had left, her Pa let out a heavy sigh and turned back to the group.

“Right,” he said. “Should we continue this after breakfast?”

Delia hesitated for a second before quickly rejecting the idea. Though she trusted her Pa to keep his word, she didn’t want to lose track of her own thoughts.

He let out another deep exhale. “Alright,” he said. “Where do you want to start?”

"First, I want to know how accurate our understanding is," Delia replied.

"You're pretty close. Actually, you're right about most of it," he admitted.

Delia leaned forward, expecting him to continue, only for him to shrug. “There's not much else to say,” he finished. “Not unless we go into all the details. Do you have any other pressin’ questions?"

She rolled her eyes, knowing that he understood her question, but was teaching her to be specific about what to ask — it was a lesson he had taught several times in the past.

"Tell us more about the different ranks. Why don’t they tell us about it in Askern?” Jeremy asked.

“Why is Jonah a high-red?” Delia added. “How do you even become ranked? What’s the benefit –"

“One at a time, Del,” he interrupted. “We’ll start with ranks…”

As her Pa began his lecture, Delia nudged Jeremy, who hastily retrieved a scrap of paper and pencil from his pocket. She couldn't help but feel a tinge of frustration that her clothing lacked pockets large enough to hold her essentials, though Jeremy or Jonah was always around. Perhaps she should learn how to sew, she absentmindedly considered.

“You can’t write this, Del,” Greg said upon seeing the paper.

“Why?” Delia asked, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

“Same reason I’m only telling you three instead of the full crew. Because ignorance is bliss, and I don’t want anyone else to somehow find out. You can’t write it unless you burn it afterwards.”

“Fine. I’ll write to show Jonah, then I’ll burn it.”

He nodded, returning to his explanation. “As you said, the Royal Guard are the only people ranked in Askern. The correct term is awakened, mind you. Delia wasn' wrong about why they don’t tell you about it in Askern,'' Greg said, addressing Jeremy. “It comes down to greed, power and fear. But that’s a different discussion entirely.

“The starting stage, before you awaken, you’re called grey. The majority of the population in Askern are 'greys'. After awakenin’, you're known as a 'red.' The ranks then follow the visible light spectrum, up to violet, as you’ve guessed, Del. Though you’ll never see a violet in your life. If you do, well, it’d be just before you die."

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Delia raised an eyebrow sceptically.

“Consider them to be gods. You don’t meet god in this life. You meet him in the hereafter,” he answered. “The number of violets isn't known. There’s probably only a handful of them, but they’re more a legen’ than anything else.”

She nodded as she scribbled down the information.

“The colours are the most common reference to the ranks,” he continued. “Though you might hear places callin’ someone with the name of a rock. Citrine for yellow, emerald for green.

You should be able to figure it out,” Greg said. “Within the ranks, there are sub-ranks. Low, pure, high. High means you’re close to the next rank. Low means you’ve just hit that rank. And pure means you’re right in the middle. Easy enough, right?”

“Is there any sort of percentage for how much the population is of anything?” Delia asked. “For example, how many people are red?”

“Of those who awaken, you can roughly break it down into quarters. Up to twenty-five per cent of people being red. The median being orange. Up to seventy-five per cent being less than yellow…”

“And everyone else being less than green?” Jeremy finished.

Her Pa smiled. “No. That’s when the lines get a little more blurry. I’m pulling numbers out of my backside, but almost 95 per cent are less than green. And ninety-nine point nine are less than blue.”

“What about the ratio of ranked to unranked?” Delia asked, scribbling the numbers in the shape of a pie chart.

“It depends where we’re talking about. Askern? It's the ratio of royal guards to the civilian population. Which is something less than 0.5 per cent. In a place like Inia Telle? It’ll be in the ballpark of fifty per cent.”

“FIFTY?” Jeremy repeated in shock. “Five zero?”

Greg nodded affirmingly.

“How do you even know?” Jeremy asked.

“We can come back to that later,” her Pa replied. “But yes, I can understand your surprise. As you can see, they’re very different numbers. And for good reason, too. Have you ever seen or heard about Krakens, Sirens, or any other creature in or near Askern?”

“Outside of fairy tales and books?” Delia asked.

Her Pa nodded.

“None. They don’t exist.”

“You don’t see them, but they exist alright. They’re killed on sight by the royal guard. So what does that mean?”

“The number of the creatures are less than or equal to the number of guards?” Delia guessed.

“And?” he prodded.

She took a moment to ponder the implications, pencil tapping the table as her brow furrowed in concentration. Then, as a realisation dawned on her, her eyes widened. “The number of beasts in Inia Telle is half the population?!”

“Exactly. The place we’re headin’ to now is far more–”

“We’re heading there now?!” Jeremy said, shooting to his feet in surprise.

“Sit down, man,” Greg instructed. “Yes, we’re heading there now. Unless you want to stay on the sea and starve to death?”

“Could have told us about it before,” Jeremy mumbled, sitting back in his seat

“We have some time before we reach. And it’s not like it should make a difference. We were expectin’ land anyway, before the whole Siren Saga.”

Jeremy grunted.

“Right, so where was I?”

“You were talking about the place where we’re heading,” Delia said.

“Yes. So, the place we’re heading to is far more dangerous. Which is why you need to know now.”

“I still don’t understand,” Delia said. “Why didn’t you tell us before, anyway? If we can awaken, if we can get stronger, if we could have fought, and can fight with Jonah, why would you keep it from us?”

“Because I couldn’ tell you. Not in Askern.”

“Because?” She asked expectantly, waiting for further explanation.

Greg looked at her for a moment and she watched as the gears turned behind his eyes. After finally gathering his thoughts, he released a deep sigh and ran his hand over his face. “How ridiculous does magic sound?”

“As ridiculous as a Siren,” she replied flatly.

“Good. Well, the short answer is magic. The long answer is my truce. It’s soul binding. I can't break certain rules, otherwise, I forfeit certain privileges.

Delia opened her mouth to speak, but her Pa quickly raised his hand to forestall her. "Hold on a minute," he said firmly. "Let's finish discussing the rank business first."

"Alright," she replied, nodding in acceptance.

"Good," Greg said, his expression softening slightly. "So, as I was saying, there are different ranks. The ranks relate to your mana capacities. The higher the rank, the greater the mana capacity."

“Stupid question,” Jeremy interrupted. What even is mana?”

“That’s actually a good question,” Greg said with a smile. “You can consider mana to be like energy. But a more… magical counterpart. It’s inheren’ in living things. Your body has some in it, and by increasin' your capacities, the amount you can hold, it enhances your body,” he explained. “It improves your strength, your speed and reflexes, and even your senses. It also lets you use more powerful artifacts and power runes directly.”

Greg waited patiently for a moment, watching as Delia continued to write down her notes.

“What about mana manipulation?” Jeremy asked during the pause.

“Mana manipulation isn’t something we need to concern ourselves with.”

“But I’ve heard about it in Askern. The guards –”

“You’ve heard from people who know nothin’ about Mana,” Greg interrupted. “Anyone who knows anything about it can’t talk about it because of the truce. Not to people who don’t already know. And anyone who knows the truth about mana would scoff at the idea that the guards are master manipulators,” he said with a sneer. He shook his head slightly, as though removing a bitter taste in his mouth. “All you need to worry about is the amount of Mana you can hold in your body.”

“And how do we increase that, then?” Delia asked.

“You have to exhaust your energy until your body relies on its inheren’ mana to fuel itself. And then you need to exhaust your mana,” he answered. “You push yourself to failure.”

“And we do that how?” she asked.

“The same way you grow muscle. By pushing your body past its limits,” he explained. “100 pushups, 100 situps, 100 squats, a 10-kilometre run...”

Finished with dotting down the notes, she looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to continue.

“And without any air conditioning, too,” Greg belatedly added.

Delia and Jeremy exchanged a look of confusion, prompting a sigh from Greg.

“The point is,” he said more seriously, “is that you need to force yourself beyond failure, and either consciously or subconsciously, use your mana. Some people subconsciously use more mana than others. Which is why the Royal guard do those scouting trips and take on those with talent.”

“If it's up to talent, then why do the nobles always join the guild?” Delia asked.

"I never said it was just a matter of talent," her Pa said, a knowing smile playing at the corners of his lips. He was clearly still playing with her then, leading her to that conclusion for his own amusement.

“Constantly and consistently training with artifacts has the same effect as physically training past exhaustion,” he said. “And it’s much easier than relying on subconscious chance. So why are nobles always part of the guild? Well, Artefacts for training are monopolised by the noble brats.”

“If it isn’t talent, why did Khaleel say Jonah’s talented?” Delia asked. “He’s just a red. That’s fairly common, isn’t it?”

“He called him talented, huh?” Greg said, looking at Jonah, who in turn was gazing at the parchment in front of Delia.

“Well, he is,” Greg said. “Jonah is the subconscious mana user. And he’s had the luck of bein’ the shipwrights apprentice and havin’ the Midnight Ode. His abilities are maxed for his rank, which is rare to see. It’ll make sense once we discuss awakenin’ you two. But first –”

There was a knock on the door, and Greg turned to the door expectantly.

“—breakfast.”