Rynnelle Odulfo had made more than her fair share of reckless decisions.
There was the time she’d joined the traveling circus just to set the animals free. Or when she went all the way to Mag Parva to get Mrs.Katelo a gift in an attempt to cure her homesickness.
Even taking all that into account. Her, standing here, between Dashard and what very well may have been the entirety of Teons Naval Guild branch and a total stranger, was by far the most reckless decision of her entire life.
It had all happened so fast. From Kaleon finding her on the bridge to the stranger who appeared as if out of thin air. Rynnelle barely had time to process who the stranger was before Kaleon picked her up and ran away with that ship right on their heels. As if that hadn’t been stressful enough, they hadn’t even gotten halfway down the beach before the Navy Guild dropped onto the boardwalk, ready to siege war.
Before she knew it, Rynnelle waded her way into an ocean of heavily armed, severely pissed-off naval officers. In defense of someone who, only a few short moments ago, almost killed her with a pirate ship.
A disquieting knot of tension fought to wrap around a heart that beat so violently it threatened to give out entirely. It wasn’t the first or even tenth-time Rynnelle mettled in something she could’ve left alone, but this time was different.
Rynnelle was taking a gamble leveraging her already strained relationship with Dashard. In all the years she’d known him, Dashard had always been the voice of calm, discerning reason. It was part of why he’d been able to rise to the rank of Captain. So the fact that Rynnelle saw genuine anger in his eyes told her she’d picked one hell of a time standing in his way.
Rynnelle bit her lip as she took stock of the situation, trying to exude reassurance that everything was fine. Even if her body was fighting her every step of the way.
The plan, even if calling it that was generous, was to get them to reach some sort of agreement. One that hopefully appeased Dashard and allowed Rynnelle to get some time alone with this stranger without drawing too much suspicion. Easier said than done, sure, but it's not like she hadn’t mediated situations like this before. All she needed was to keep them from tearing out each other's throats. So long as she could keep Dashard calm, the other officers would follow his lead. That should’ve been simple enough.
Behind her, the stranger clicked his teeth in reprisal at Dashard, breaking Rynnelle’s train of thought, “See? Now that’s how you get what you want outta a conversation.”
Rynnelle froze at the dichotomy of the man’s words. Time seemed to slow as she watched them register on Dashard's face, nearly undoing the modicum of restraint he had managed to set in place.
Before Dashard had a chance to react, Rynnelle spun around. This was the first time she got a good look at the strange man, and it took considerable effort to keep the shock off her face. At a passing glance, this was the same man that fell from the sky, but Rynnelle realized that wasn’t the case at all.
The man’s clothes, sunset-colored hair, and apparent perpetual grin were the same, but the similarities ended there. A silver cloud had replaced his left hand at the wrist. There was a small scar on the corner of his mouth and another on his eyebrow that bisected a sickening gash that ran across his forehead, but Rynnelle knew there were more.
Rynnelle's eyes locked with the stranger. He grinned at her. It was a simple, small reaction that shouldn't have stood out to her in the slightest. Except it did. Like on the bridge, an abhorrent tide of dread swelled inside her chest. Fear filled her lungs, threatening to steal her breath as every fiber of her being screamed at her to run. To get away from this nightmarish tapestry of violence and never look back.
“Hey, can you do me a favor?” Rynnelle asked, forcing her voice to match the man's casual tone.
The stranger's eyebrow arched as curiosity flickered behind his eyes, “Okay, I’ll bite, what is it?”
“Shut up.”
The moment stretched as Rynnelle’s fear erupted into a bewildered panic as she held the man’s gaze, but she schooled her expression so it showed nothing but determination. After the moment passed, the strange man gave her an almost imperceptible nod, and Rynnelle felt the fear slowly drain out of her.
“Right,” Rynnelle turned back to face Dashard. Seeing his anger was now supplanted by a hesitant curiosity, she said, "Let's let cooler heads prevail, shall we?"
“Miss Odulfo…” Dashard started to say but caught himself when Rynnelle gave him the same disapproving scowl she’d just given the stranger, “Rynnelle, do you know who this man is?”
She suppressed a wince before answering, “Admittedly no, but you know I don’t like it when people gang up on someone.”
“This,” Dashard lifted his sword again, his voice still controlled despite the undercurrent of rage lying underneath, “Is the pirate responsible for sinking the Siren’s Promise and nearly reigniting the Zephayne.”
In an instant, Rynnelle’s conviction crumbled beneath the weight of who and what this man was. Saying his name so quietly that only she could hear, “Silverhand.” Rynnelle swallowed hard, glancing over her shoulder. Silverhand had held his hands behind his head, looking around the island with an almost bored expression on his face. He only spared her a passing glance, but even that sent her a shiver down her spine.
Rynnelle bit her lip as she thought of what to say next, but Dashard beat her to it, “Rynnelle, I get why you’re doing this." Dashard took a step forward, exhaling through his nostrils in a deep sigh that almost seemed to deflate him. “You’re always the first to speak up when you see something wrong. First to come to someone’s defense when they can’t defend themselves. It’s your most admirable quality, and I’ve always loved you for it.”
Dashard glanced at Silverhand, and there was a flash of irritation on his face before he looked back at Rynnelle, "But this isn't the time to jump to someone's defense. Especially not someone like him. I’ll have Simon take you…and Kaleon back to the Manor,"
Rynnelle’s brow scrunched in confusion. She turned, looking past Silverhand and the officers. Unlike Rynnelle, Kaleon hadn’t forced his way through the crowd, instead choosing to hang back along with Gumbo. His eyes were heavy, the concern on his face mixed in with a weariness that summoned an age-old ache in Rynnelle's heart, and a new one in the face of his reaction when the ship came crashing down on them.
Dashard put a hand on Rynnelle’s shoulder, “Let get you ho-“
“No.” Rynnelle shook off Dashard’s hand, determination returning to her face as she turned back to him, “I’m not going back to the Manor, not unless he’s coming with me.”
There was a pause, and then Silverhand and Dashard said, “What?”
Rynnelle looked at Silverhand, “You said you’re an adventurer, right?”
“Right.” Silverhand agreed, narrowing his eyes.
“That settles it then,” Rynnelle looked back to a confused Dashard, “This man doesn’t fit any description of Silverhand ever reported. He could just be one of those Silverhand imposters I read about in Ieagan Oddities.”
“Rynn,” Dashard said harshly, agitation rising in his voice, “I don’t think this is some imposter.”
“So you think the Adventurers Guild would give the most wanted man in Yana history a badge instead of turning him in?” Rynnelle countered.
Dashard clenched his jaw so tight that Rynnelle thought his teeth might crack, “Of course, I don’t.”
“Then it’s possible he’s just some weirdo with a death wish.”
“Hey!” Silverhand whined, but they both ignored him.
“I understand why you want him in custody, Dashard, but I don’t want to take the risk that he is actually an adventurer. Before we do anything drastic, we should get his badge and Identification verified.” Rynnelle said.
Dashard gave her a long look, unsure where exactly Rynnelle was taking this but positive that he didn’t like it. “The closest Adventurer branch is in Kuduma. The Lumbidae don’t fly this time of year, and even if they did, it would take days before we got word back.”
“I know that,” Rynnelle said, taking a moment to steel herself. She was at the point of no return now. The logical side of her tried to strangle the words before they left her mouth before they could make the already strained relationship between her and Dashard unrepairable. Rynnelle said it anyway, “Until we get word back, he can stay at the Manor. At this point, there are more officers in the Manor than in the Base. If his credentials come back false, then you can take him away. Until then, we can at least show him some hospitality. It's the Harvetal, after all."
Dashard opened his mouth to speak, then closed it tight. As if he didn’t trust himself to speak. He took a deep breath and looked around. Rynnelle followed his gaze to the officers still standing at the ready around them.
They’d watched the entire exchange between them with silent condemnation. Rynnelle’s conviction met their hard looks, but not without cost. The knots around her heart tightened again at the thought of the position she’d just put Dashard in.
When Dashard finally looked at her, his jaw was set, and his face a concrete slab for all the emotion it showed. “We’ll take him to the Manor, and if Lord Reinard agrees to let him stay, which I’m sure he won’t, I’ll divert some of our officers to provide another layer of security. Otherwise,” Dashard looked at Silverhand, and Rynnelle thought sparks would fill the air between them. “I’m going to throw you in the deepest, darkest hole on Teon that I can find and leave you there. You won’t see skies again until an Admiral drags you out in chains to take you to Black Reef.”
Dashard and Rynnelle shared a long look. The sadness behind her friend's eyes almost broke Rynnelle, but her convictions held.
Rynnelle took in a breath and sighed, "Well, I'm glad we got that sorted out."
"Um, 'scuse me?" Rynnelle's hands returned to her hips as she turned to face Silverhand. "Yeah, that's great you stopped ol' boy from starting something he couldn't finish, but that doesn't just mean I'll drop everything I'm doing to spend the night. It's Rynnelle, right? Well, miss Rynnelle, I appreciate the assist, but I'm only planning on staying here for as long as it takes me to find a ship." Silverhand looked to Dashard, frowned, and sighed as he slumped his shoulders. "Look, you guys have a bone to pick with me, honestly? You're entitled to it. Once I finish some personal business, I'll come back, and we can settle this."
Rynnelle's eyebrow arched as a wry smile spread across her face. She held out three fingers, counting them off as she spoke, "Three things. First off, the favor I'm doing you is keeping my fiance from using your face to mop all this water off the boardwalk. Second, the only reason I'm having you stay at the Manor is because I don't want you disrupting the people anymore than you already have. There's Manors more than enough to keep you comfortable if you are who you claimed to be, and there's enough security there if you aren't."
Silverhand just stared at her, his expression a mix of bewildered admiration, "Okay, and what's the third thing?"
Rynnelle's smile widened as she put down the third finger, "No matter how much of a hurry you're in, nothing on the docks is for sale. So if youre caught trying to steal a ship, it wont matter what your badge says. I'll let Dashard and his officers have you."
"Fine by me," Silverhand said, scrunching up his face and gesturing to the ship in the water. "I'll just fix this one, I'm sure the internal damage isnt that bad. All I need to do is plug a few holes and that'll hold me over until I can get my hands on something less...worn."
At that moment, there was a resounding crack of splintered wood. Everyone turned their heads just in time to watch the main mast shatter and collapse under its weight. It plunged like an executioner blade into the heart of the ship. The ship folded, and the charred remains of the ship gave its last salute as it sank beneath the water.
Right before the jolly rodger joined the rest of the ship a silver wind hand snatched it up. The hand brought it to Silverhand, who stuffed it in his coat pocket.
Silverhand looked at Rynnelle again, coughing as he gave her an assessing look, "So is this like a bed and breakfast situation? Or...?"
Dashard ushered Rynnelle, Kaleon, and Silverhand onto his ship within a few minutes. The Ceana's Wing was a personal Pileus-class cruiser with a pristine alabaster hull with navy blue and grey embellishments. The flag of the Naval Guild waved proudly, the symbol of the hammer bound by a rope to a winged anvil.
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Simon Pazike, Vice-Captain of Teons Naval Guild, was at the helm. He’d elected to stow the radantum sails and only use the twin bladeless fans on either side to propel the ship in an attempt to buy time for the guards to prepare the Manor and allow for the passengers below deck to have a conversation.
Silverhand whistled as he looked around the interior of the cabin. The room was of modest size given that of the ship. A solitary island sat in the middle of the room, with barstools on either side that could rise or fall onto the floor. Plush benches sat underneath portholes, giving them a clear view of the sparkling waters.
“Nice digs, a guy could get used to this,” Silverhand said as he swiveled in one of the barstools.
“Don’t get any ideas,” Dashard said coldly. He walked out a door opposite the stairs leading up to the main deck. It led to a small hall where you could access a storage room and sleeping cabins. Gumbo whined as he trotted in behind Dashard, who closed the door behind him. “Go ahead and try it. Makes my job easier.”
“Well, I do aim to please, and I do like this ship,” Silverhand said, rubbing his chin as if in thought, “Don’t suppose you want to take these off so you can brag to your Naval buddies that you beat me in a fair fight?” Silverhand held up his right hand. Attached to his wrist was a thick handcuff made of a sleek grey stone, the other end hanging limp, having fallen off his empty left wrist.
Dashard crossed his arms as he took up a stool on the opposite side of Silverhand, “What do you think?”
“Will you two stop?” Rynnelle sighed as Gumbo hopped on her lap, nuzzling into her. She was sitting on one set of benches underneath windows on the side of the cabin. Rynnelle down into the black pools of Gumbo's eyes, scratching him under his chin. Without looking up, she asked Dashard, “Is he okay?”
Dashard drew in a breath before releasing a deep sigh, easing the tension in his shoulders, “I think so.” He said after a moment, but not with much confidence, “He’s getting some rest now, but It does concern me that he didn’t put up nearly as much of a fight as he usually does getting him on a ship. If I had to guess, it’s his fault.” Dashard gestured his head in Silverhand's direction, who put a hand on his chest with an accosted expression on his face. Dashard ignored him and continued, “You know as well as I do that he keeps a lot of stuff to himself, but given how we…found him, I’d say that seeing that pirate ship dug up a lot of memories, he’d rather stay buried.”
Rynnelle nodded absently, looking out to the sparkling water of the lagoon as her thoughts drifted. Memories of her, Kaleon, and Dashard's time together flitted in and out of her mind, the reverie calling a small smile on her face. As her mind moved from the past to the present, that smile shifted into a deeply rooted frown.
In the far reaches of her mind, a voice told her to trust the path before her. Only the Gods knew how much Rynnelle wanted to, but there was only so much she could take. Ever since her mother's death, Rynnelle's tried to show nothing but reverence for her family name. Even though it hadn’t, and likely wouldn’t if her father had anything to do with it, been made official, Rynnelle was the Lady of the Isle. She knew and accepted this. What Rynnelle could not accept, however, was that to best protect the island, she must sacrifice the relationships with whom she loves the most.
Now, whether by divine intervention, luck, or whatever means governed Rynnelle's life, she had a chance. It was slim. So slim that, had it not been for her desperation, she would’ve dismissed it out of hand entirely. Instead, she chose to barrel forward into the unknown with only a trickle of hope to guide her. Rynnelle thought she’d cast aside whatever lingering reservations dwelled within her thoughts, and for the most part, she had, but that was before she realized who she’d been asked to trust.
Her gaze drifted from the lagoon's waters to Silverhand, twirling the cuffs on his wrist as he whistled a tune. Rynnelle flinched as the scattered remnants of what she knew of the man grated against what she saw before her.
Five years ago, the pirate known as Silverhand had made a name for himself by carving it into the Iega with a serrated knife. The stories surrounding him ranged from bizarrely whimsical to nightmarishly macabre, with the only common thread among them being that wherever Silverhand went, disaster would soon follow.
The Parliament of Isles was terrified of him, declaring him a menace to the Iega and public enemy number one. A decision that sent ripples in the rising tide of terror, threatening to drown the tribe. Silverhand's response was to raise several houses to the ground, leaving nobles with nothing but the clothes on their backs if they were lucky. The rumor spread across the Iega that Silverhand's actions would bring rise to a new Zephayne, reigniting the seventy-five-year war between the Pirate Lords of Koalu and the Vozwatä of Onyeyo. The Vozwatä, the council famously known for its neutrality in island affairs, passed their judgment to quell those rumors. All nine fleets of the Yanayin Navy and the entirety of the Adventurers Guild conducted the largest manhunt in history to carry out Silverhand's sentence with overwhelming retribution.
Rynnelle couldn't even fathom the unbridled terror she would face, knowing that kind of force was after her. Silverhand, on the other hand, responded by mounting an assault on the Sirens Promise, the flagship of the ninth fleet. The Education Guild reels had tried to spin it as a victory. Thanks to the valiant efforts of Admiral Yudwale and his crew, who ended Silverhand's reign of terror at the cost of most of their lives. However, that was far from the grim reality she and so few others on this island knew to be true.
The news of his death withstanding, all of the Education Guillds reels had called Silverhand conniving, brutal, and relentless. While the man in front of her, the one Rynnelle had spent what would likely be the last of her goodwill amongst the Naval Guild, was...
"You know, they say after every awkward silence, a checkered Duulis is born," Silverhand said absently.
Dashard arched an eyebrow, giving him a solid two count before responding, “Excuse me?”
“You know, checkered Duulis? Looks like a penguin? They have feathers that make a little checkered board pattern on their back and can pulled over their heads for a little hoodie?” Silverhand spoke in a manner that made it seem like he thought he was making sense, but the look on Dashard's face told him otherwise, “C’mon, do f look at me like that. You can’t tell me you came to the Iega and didn't even stop to enjoy nature before enlisting. That’s boring.”
“First,” Dashard grumbled, “I was born here, and second, I know what a checkered Duulis is. I’m looking at you like this because that’s the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard.”
“Then you need to get out more,” Silverhand scoffed. Out of reflex, he reached into his coat with his left hand, realizing after the fact that his hand was missing. He cursed under his breath and awkwardly used his right hand to pull a leather-bound flask from his coat. Silverhand deftly uncapped the top and took a long pull. “That’s not even top five on my weird o meter. There is too much magical bullshit out in the world to write something off just because it sounds a little silly.”
Silverhand burped, and as if proving his point, a half dozen butterflies flew out of his mouth.
Flask still in hand, he made a spreading gesture and exclaimed, “Tada!”
Dashard's face was as expressive as a slab of black granite. He huffed, blowing a butterfly away before it could land on his face. “I’m going to enjoy taking you into custody.”
“Tsk tsk tsk. First rule of marriage. A happy wife means a happy life, and according to her,” Silverhand pointed a thumb back toward Rynnelle, “I’m an honored guest,”
“She didn’t say that,” Dashard pointed out, but Silverhand gave him a dismissive wave as he took another pull from the flask, “Also, I'm not trying to take advice from someone who's drinking before noon.”
Before responding, Silverhand held up a finger, looking into the middle distance. When Dashard opened his mouth to speak, Silverhand burst into a fit of sneezes. Each sneeze shot out a butterfly from his hair. The only difference between these and the first batch was the trails of rainbow dust behind them.
“Hey, don’t judge me, it’s noon somewhere,” Silverhand said, picking up the conversation without acknowledging the additional butterflies. “Plus I drink when I’m nervous…or scared…or angry…or when I’m about to…” He trailed off, shooting a discrete glance at Rynnelle that only Dashard caught, “Well you get the idea, but you don’t get to judge me!” Dashards responded by raising a single, irritated eyebrow, “Much. You don’t get to judge me much,” Silverhand corrected.
In spite of herself, a smile tugged on the corners of Rynnelle's mouth. She wanted to hold her hand out so a few butterflies could land, but the lingering weariness made her hesitate. A hesitation Gumbo did not share as he inhaled deeply, sucking a handful into his mouth. “Gumbo!” Rynnelle shouted quickly as her hands tried to pry his mouth open, “You don’t know where they’ve been! Spit them out right now!”
Gumbo whined in protest, resisting Rynnelle as Silverhand swiveled his chair so he could turn toward them. “Hey! I take offense to that! I may be a little wild, but I still take showers.” He paused, raised his arm to take an experimental sniff, and looked back at them, “Okay, maybe I smell like smoke, but still, your familiar could eat a lot worse.”
Rynnelle silently starred at Silverhand, shared a look with Gumbo, and then back to Silverhand. “Gumbo’s not my familiar. He’s Kaleons, and I don’t think he’d appreciate me letting him eat his full with bugs that came out of you,”
Silverhand shrugged, “Could’ve fooled me with how close you two are. I could count on one hand how many people would try and get something from a Suedegrade's mouth.”
He raised the flask to his lips again but paused before taking a sip. Silverhand turned to face Rynnelle, ignoring Dashard's glare that drilled a hole in the back of his head.
To Gumbo, Silverhand said, “She is right though. I’ve been told that I taste terrible, so at best you’ll get some added smokey flavor. At worst, rainbow-colored gas.” Gumbo shook off Rynnelle's hands and tilted his head as if in consideration.
Rynnelle shook her head, “Trust me, If It was that easy to get him not to eat something we-“ Before she could finish, Gumbo opened his mouth. The butterflies flew away as fast as their wings allowed. One of them blew a cloud of rainbow dust into Gumbo's face. “How’d you get him to do that? It usually takes two of us, and a lot of bribery to get something out of his mouth.”
“I guess I speak his language,” Silverhand shrugged and shook the contents of his flask next to his ear, “Sounds like I got one more in the tank before I have to re-up. You want it?” He held the flask to her.
Startled, Rynnelle held up her hands and emphatically shook her head, “No, thank you,” She thought about it, then added, “I do have to ask though. What’s with the butterflies?”
Silverhand shook the flask, “Magic rum, never leave home without it. It’s usually pretty random, but I can tweak the recipe here and there.” Rynnelle waited for him to elaborate, but instead, he asked, “So what’s with no familiar? Or do you have one running around back in your Manor?”
Rynnelle opened her mouth to respond but quickly shut it, biting her lip for a moment before glancing at Dashard. She took in a deep breath and exhaled through her nostrils, “I do have a familiar, actually.”
“You do?” Dashard and Silverhand said in unison. They shared a look, Silverhand looking more interested than Dashard's look of budding dread. “What is it?” Silverhand said with a widening grin.
Rynnelle blanched, wincing as she responded, well aware of the reactions she would get, “An Uongeza,”
There was a moment when Silverhand and Dashard were too stunned to speak. Then, they both shot up all at once.
“Oh, that is just great! That is fantastic!” Silverhand laughed, nearly doubling over. “I knew I liked you for a reason!”
“Rynnelle!” Dashard wheeled around the table, ignoring Silverhand as he strode to her, “Please tell me you’re joking.” When she didn’t respond, Dashards dragged his hand down his face and gave her an exasperated look, “Where did-I mean why…?” Dashard groaned, rubbing his temples. He spoke in a slow, strained voice, “How did you even get one to slow down long enough to do the ritual?”
Gumbo hopped out of her lap, taking to the air and chasing the butterflies around the cabin as Rynnelle squirmed awkwardly in her seat. “Well…I may have…possibly… read about it in…Iegan Oddities” She bit her lip, her eyes looking everywhere around the cabin except Dashard.
For some reason, Rynnelle’s words made Silverhand laugh harder while Dashard stared at her incredulously.
“Look, I know you think they aren’t worth the paper it’s printed on,” Rynnelle quickly said to her defense, “But they have a lot of interesting information! Did you know that the Education Guild Director on Nochta says they’re close to figuring out the cause of the Night Winds? Oh! There’s a good one about these trees!“ Rynnelle stood up, holding her hands above her head, “They’re like, super tall! Plus the canopy is so dense you can’t even see the sky! I think they can talk too, but in a different way than the flowers I told you about before,”
For a brief moment, Rynnelle broke free of the weights constantly pressuring her. Falling into an old rhythm as she started to go into a rant about her favorite E.G. reel. Luckily for Dashard, the Gods took pity on him.
“Uh…Captain?” Simon stood at the entry to the cabin, trying his best to understand what was happening. Gumbo was floating around, chomping at the air as he terrorized a swarm of butterflies. Captain Dashard looked like he was suffering through something that Mistress Rynnelle was emphatically explaining to him, both pointedly ignoring the wanted fugitive who was dying of laughter right next to them. “We got word from the Manor. They’re ready for us,”
Dashard looked at Rynnelle for another few seconds and let out a deep sigh, “Okay, take us in.” under his breath, he added, “Let's get this disaster over with,”
Simon nodded and started to head up the stairs but hesitated. He glared at Silverhand, who was settling back in his chair, then shared a look with Dashard, “Everything alright down here, sir?”
Dashard held Simons's gaze for a moment. A complicated mix of emotions passed over Dashard's face, “Yes, everything is fine.”
Simon gave an almost imperceptible nod, then continued up the stairs. Dashard watched him leave, then looked to Rynnelle. “I’m going to wake Kaleon, hopefully he's feeling better.” Dashard didn't wait for her to respond, heading to the door with only a passing irritated glance at Silverhand.
At the mention of Kaleon's name, Gumbo stopped harassing the butterflies and hurriedly followed Dashard down the hall. Rynnelle stared at the door as it shut, and her breath caught in her chest.
Silverhand let out a long whistle, startling Rynnelle as he came up behind her. “I've gotta give it to you. Interesting setup you've got here.” Rynnelle stumbled back, looking at the chair where she swore Silverhand was sitting.
“If I'm being honest, as a rule, I consider it a red flag when girls immediately introduce me to their parents after we meet.” Silverhand gave her an assessing look, “But, I think I know the score. You've gotta real mess on your hands, Nelle, and trust me, I know messes.”
“I don't know what you-” Rynnelle started to say, but Silverhand cut her off with a look, “Okay,” she admitted, “And what? Are you going to make things worse? Just tell me now because I already have a lot to deal with and-”
“Woah, woah woah,” Silverhand's hand went up as if to surrender, “Like I already told tall, dark, and chin. I'm just passing through. Frankly, the only reason I'm still here right now is because of you,” He took a step forward, putting Rynnelle in arm's reach, “Up until now, I was on the fence about coming along, but you, Nelle?” Silverhand pointed a finger at her and smirked, “I like you, so here’s the deal. I'm pressed for time, but you clearly want me here for…whatever reason, so this is the deal.”
“We probably have a week before your fiance can verify my ID, I’ll cooperate with you until then so long as you get a ship ready for me to leave by the time that happens.” Silverhand tucked his flask back into his coat and stuck out his now free hand. “Sound good?”
Rynnelle frowned at the way he said fiance, but instead, she asked, “So I take it there’s no chance that it's going to come back, and your name is really Nick, huh?”
Silverhands grinned, and Rynnelle suppressed a shudder that ran up her spine, “Oh the ID’s as real as can be and will stand up with any Adventurer branch.” He leaned forward, “But I think we all know it's toagbwi.”
Rynnelle bristled at Silverhands language but shook it off quickly, “You’ll still have to convince my father to let you in the Manor,” Rynnelle pointed out.
“Parents love me!” Silverhand scoffed, “Don’t worry about my part. You keep the Navy away from me and get that ship, and everything will be fine.”
Rynnelle hesitated. At that moment, she knew she'd been wrong before. This was her point of no return. She looked at the expectant hand in front of her, then at Silverhand.
Dark lights twinkled behind his golden eyes. His feigned grin of reassurance only added to Rynnelle's weariness. It was like he was trying not to laugh at a joke only he knew.
With determination on her face, Rynnelle took Silverhand's hand and shook.