Ren rubs at his bleary eyes as he shuffles over to the door to answer the incessant knocks. He pulls it open, only to find Vane standing outside, with Clemon in tow. Neither Penny nor Gridel is anywhere to be seen.
“Where…?” Ren starts.
“Back in their rooms. Gridel assured me that Lady Penny is doing well,” Vane says, as if reading Ren’s mind.
“And Isla’s doing okay, too. I saw her just now,” Clemon mumbles. “I mean, she didn’t really talk to me, but she looked fine.”
Is Isla really alright? Her story still irks him—that the Captain is keeping something of hers so that she cannot leave. What is this something he holds hostage? Vane clears his throat, interrupting Ren’s ruminating thoughts and snapping him from his trance.
“Now, I would like to ask Captain Percival for information regarding the palace of the Horseman. Would you like to join me?”
Ren nods. “Sure. Just let me go and get changed.”
The colony is gracious enough to provide extra sets of clothing for their guests. Ren slips into a fraying shirt and a flaring pair of shorts. It’s been a while since he’s dressed so casually; all that he’s got to wear until now has been robes.
Vane glances over at Ifrit beside the bed. “Take Ifrit with you. There are…unsavoury characters aboard this ship.”
“What do you mean?”
“People who…take things that aren’t theirs,” Vane says, as if the word “steal” is too loathsome to utter. “I overheard a conversation on the way here, and if they not above pillaging other ships, then the unlawful procurement of items is nothing to them.”
Ren hurries over to grab Ifrit off the ground. Pillaging. Could it be that this colony was the ones who…?
“Do you think they attacked us?” Ren asks. “You know, when we were fighting the Harpies?”
“Nope, they aren’t,” Clemon says. “I thought so too, but the figurehead’s different. And that boat had two sets of sails and this one has three.”
Well, there goes that theory. Maybe they should ask the captain about that, too. Ren follows Vane out of the room, making sure that he has all his possessions with him. The trio head up to the cabin, greeting a couple of sailors with polite waves on the way.
The deck is rather empty, with only a couple of people manning the sails and whatnot. The seas are also devoid of other ships, and if what Clemon said was right, that this ship wasn’t the one that attacked them, then there must be another wandering around.
Vane makes his way boldly to the Captain’s quarters and knocks lightly on the door. Ren hears a “Come in!” from within and Vane opens the door. Captain Percival pores over a map, a quill in hand. He sticks the quill back into the inkwell and rolls the map up, stuffing it into a drawer.
“Ah, my delightful guests.” Captain Percival clasps his fingers in front of him. “How may I help you today?”
“We would like to inquire as to the Horseman that has been terrorizing your people,” Vane says. Straight to the point, as always. “One that gallops across the sky?”
Captain Percival frowns. “Oh, yes. We do see him often. We don’t know what he does, that Horseman. Never so much as comes down from the sky.”
“Does he not?” Ren asks. “Like, not even to…kill anyone?”
Captain Percival shakes his head. “Heavens, no! It merely rides across the sky sometimes, and never directly infringes on our lives.”
That’s wildly different from what Ren and his companions encountered back on the Ashen Plains. They had to actively hide from the Horseman of Death, but this Horseman doesn’t interfere in human affairs? That’s strange.
“Well, that said, it is bad luck.” Captain Percival scratches at the stubble on his jaw. “Whenever that Horseman shows up, we’d meet one of them corsairs. If it’s not the Witches, then it’s the Devil.”
“The Witches and the Devil?” Vane asks.
“The Witches of Wild Waves and the Devil’s Coffin. Both of them are unscrupulous pirates, I’ll tell you that much. Used to be my own sailors, too.”
“They were part of the colony?” Ren asks. Captain Percival nods.
“Aye. They used to be my own men, and we’d sail the seas together, looking for treasure where X marks the spot.” Captain Percival sighs. “Then accursed Lissa. Oh, accursed Lissa betrayed me then.”
Clemon tilts his head in question. “Who’s this Lissa?”
“My first wife. Only woman who could stand my equal.” Captain Percival sniffs. “Good with a mace and the good ol’ cutlass, that woman is. Now, she’s the Cap’n of the Witches, and she only takes in bloody women as crew. My men could easily thrash them in a fight.”
“So…where are they now?” Vane asks.
“I don’t know, and frankly, I don’t care. Now that I’ve got my Isla with me, she’s all I ever need.”
Ren itches to inquire about his wife’s precious possession that he’s supposedly kept here, but that can wait. For now, they have to ask about the Horseman and where to find his heart. Vane coughs, and steers their conversation back on track.
“Captain, you mentioned that the Horseman heralded the arrival of the corsairs?” Vane says.
“Aye. That he does. When he flies across the sky, we’ll see a ship in the distance. Then, the ship’ll get closer and closer, and the battle will begin. Mostly with cannonballs and swords and all. It gets bloody, let me tell you that.”
A chill travels down Ren’s spine. He’s seen corpses of Harpies upon the Seastar’s deck, but actual human bodies?
“Do you know where the Horseman goes?” Vane asks. “Does it have an abode to which it returns?”
Captain Percival shakes his head. “Not that I am aware. We only ever see it sail over our heads. Never saw it bigger than a speck in the clouds.”
That’s a bummer. Still, that also means that they don’t have to worry about getting into a fight with the Horseman, not until they reach its palace, anyway.
“Well now,” Captain Percival says, standing from his seat and walking past them to the door. “The maids should be done with cooking by now. What say we treat ourselves to a gala dinner? In your honour.”
“In our honour?” Ren asks. “I mean, we did bring Isla back to you, but…”
“You are the Luminary, are you not?” Captain Percival asks. “Triton spoke of you. Told me that you were the ones.”
“Triton?”
“The spirit of water. One of the three great spirits.” The captain raises a brow. “Surely you must have heard of him. Triton, Sylph and Ignis?”
“What about Aquarius?” Clemon asks. “And Gaia?”
Captain Percival shakes his head. “Never heard of them. Who in the world are those?”
Clemon opens his mouth to argue, but Vane stops him with a hand on his shoulder. Clemon steps away, moving to stand behind Ren. Captain Percival opens the door and heads out onto the deck. Vane’s expression is hard, like stone, as he follows the captain out. Ren and Clemon exit the room as well.
The list of mysteries just gets longer and longer.
*
“Hey there.” Ren greets as Penny slides into the seat next to him. Just like every other important thing on the ship, the chairs are made out of silver, shiny even in the dim light of the lamps. Penny looks like she wants to say something, fidgeting restlessly with the velveteen tablecloth. Gridel settles opposite them, gaze on the food, while Vane retains that stoic expression. Clemon bounces on his seat, eyes sparkling at the spread before them.
The dishes are what Ren assumes is seafood, from little prawn-like lizards, blue fish and drumsticks. Could these drumsticks have been come from the Sirens or Harpies? Ren shivers at the mere thought.
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There are only seven people at the table: the five of them, from Gravelle, and Captain Percival and Isla. The rest of the people in the room are maids, standing at attention with their fingers clasped in front of them, staring straight ahead.
Behind Captain Percival is a sculpture of silver draped in golden cloths, depicting a human body with a great white shark for a head. It wears beads of blue around its neck and glares down at them, like it’s watching their every move. Not too different from that statue of Gaia, if Ren is being honest. Is that Aquarius, or is that Triton?
“Now, I thank the spirit of the sea, Triton, for granting us this hearty meal,” Captain Percival says. At his clap, the maids step forth and pour them drinks, almost entirely in sync. Now that is what you call creepy. Once their glasses are filled with a grape-scented liquid, the maids retreat to the shadows, to become nothing but statues once more.
“We have waited for the Luminaries’ arrival for the longest time, to free us from the reign of the Horseman of War,” Captain Percival declares. He raises his glass, glinting in the flickering flame of the lamps. “Here is to their arrival.”
Vane raises his glass, and Ren, Penny and Isla follow suit. Gridel and Clemon do the same, the latter almost spilling his wine on the tablecloth.
“We must also thank the spirit of water, Triton, for delivering them safely to Cascasia, the greatest vessel of the seas of Ilecthia. And to that, we drink tonight.”
They are sitting way too far apart to touch their glasses. Vane, Gridel and Clemon drinks. Penny takes a small sip, and so does Ren. He tries not to cough when the bitter liquid slides down his throat.
Captain Percival drains his glass and places it back on the table before digging in. Ren grabs a couple of pieces of the seafood that he actually dares to eat. Some lobster-looking creatures, a fish of sorts covered in kelp, amongst others. Penny, on the other hand, takes a little bit of everything, her plate piled high with meat and fish and a fruit or so.
Captain Percival is a talkative man, Ren realizes. He speaks with his mouth full, addressing mainly Ren and Vane. Penny hardly chats, eyes darting over to look at Isla every once in a while. Gridel picks at her food, stewing in some pent-up frustration that Ren can feel from across the table. Clemon, on the other hand, is just enjoying his meal like the innocent boy he is.
When the feast is over, the maids clear the table while the captain invites his guests outside, with Isla’s arm around his. Vane is the first to follow, with Gridel and Clemon right behind him. Penny walks out with Ren, her expression sullener than Ren remembers.
“What’s wrong?” Ren asks.
Penny bites her lip, beckoning him to the side of the ship, away from where Captain Percival appears to still be regaling tales of his bravado to their hapless friends. If Ren can choose whether or not to hang out with the captain or with Penny, he’d run straight to the latter in a heartbeat.
When they’re out of earshot, Penny explodes. “Oh, it’s horrid, I tell you. Horrid!”
Ren can imagine, but he’d let her vent. “What’s the problem?”
“Women are nothing but slaves aboard this ship!” Penny hisses. “I can’t even go up to you guys’ room without a man accompanying me! Or Isla! This is just terrible!”
“I…well…” Ren isn’t quite sure what to say that won’t set her off like a bomb. “Would you like me to visit you more?”
“I want to get off this accursed ship.” Ren shudders at the sheer fury on her face. Never has he seen her so angry before. However, the fury soon subsides, and Penny slumps against the edge. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be saying these things, should I? I’m just fed up with all this…this treatment and all…fuck it. Fuck everything about this colony.”
“Hey, calm down.” Ren places his hands on her shoulders. Penny’s shaking, eyes shining with unshed tears. For someone who spends most of her time in nature’s embrace, running and jumping about with almost unrestricted freedom, this oppression must hit hard.
“Sorry I…I blew up.” Penny wipes at her eyes. “Fuck, you haven’t seen me cry in, like, what? Since I was ten?”
“Yeah. Eight years of bottled-up feelings in that heart of yours.” Ren taps her forehead, and that’s got her smiling. Ren finds himself grinning too; that smile sure is contagious.
“Oh, by the way.” Penny drops her voice low now. “I think I know what that bastard’s got of Isla’s.”
“How’d you…?”
“I think that Isla’s a selkie,” Penny says. “Think about it, Ren. If he’s got her sealskin, then she’s got to stay with him, right?”
Ren fixes her with the blankest expression he can muster. Penny pouts.
“See, this is what happens when you don’t listen to my lectures.”
“Yeah, well, to be fair, I didn’t think I’d ever need to use that knowledge.”
Penny hums dismissively. “The thing about selkies in mythology is that they’re creatures that can transform into seals in water, and when they take off their sealskin, they turn into humans on land. Of course, they’d have to hide their skin somewhere.”
“Uh huh.”
“But here’s the catch. As soon as someone finds their skin and keep it hidden from the selkie, the selkie’s got to stay with them until they can get their skin back. But after they do, they’d be able to go back to the sea.”
“And you think that the Captain’s got Isla’s skin hidden somewhere in this ship.”
“Yeah.” Penny’s eyes twinkle. “And there’s one room in this goddamn ship that has just that many locks.”
Ren’s eyes widen. “The Captain’s quarters.”
“Yeah. I was thinking that—”
Before Penny can continue, a sudden scream pierces the air. Ren jumps, heartrate skyrocketing. The man upon the mast points at something in the sky, at the flowing robes of a horse and the shimmering armour of the Horseman decked out in white, leading his team of galloping horses. The man on the mast blows into a horn, the noise loud, long and grating.
“The Horseman! It’s the Horseman!”
A chill runs down Ren’s spine. He remembers exactly what its presence means. As if on cue, a sharp bang rings out, deafening Ren momentarily. He grabs Penny’s arm, and drags her over to where Vane, Gridel and Clemon are running over.
“What’s going on?” Ren asks, seconds before the doors to the cabins burst open and sailors storm out onto the deck. Cutlasses drawn, battle cries ripped from their throats. Ren and Penny are forced against the side of the ship, while the crowd of sailors reports to Captain Percival.
“The Witches!” the sailor on the mast calls. “The Witches are approaching!”
The Witches! Ren remembers that name, too. The band of pirates that the colony despises, led by Captain Percival’s first wife, Lissa. He squints into the distance at the ship still steadily getting nearer and nearer. Its figurehead, a woman’s head and torso, glints menacingly as it cuts through the fog, followed by sails and masts and its massive hull. Another cannonball splashes into the water, just before the ship begins to turn, now facing the ship of Cascasia.
“This was the ship that attacked us!” Clemon cries.
“We’d be tarnishing Triton’s name if we let them kill us.” Captain Percival draws his sword and raises it high. “Cannoneers, to the cannons! Now! Everyone else on standby!”
The captain turns to them, jerking his chin at the cabins. “Luminaries, we cannot let you get involved in something like this. You best stay as far from all the fighting as possible. Can’t have our saviours dying on us now, can we?”
For once, Penny doesn’t jump at the chance to argue.
“We can handle ourselves,” Ren says. “Besides, Vane and Gridel can protect us.”
Captain Percival opens his mouth to answer but he is interrupted by a gunshot. Or, at least, what Ren thinks is a gunshot. He whips his head over to look at the other ship, now lined up parallel to theirs. Cannonballs fly from the Witches and their own, smashing into wood and splintering the planks of the hull. The wind of the sea carries resolute shouts to Ren’s ears, as pirates land from swinging ropes, cutlasses and swords ready to strike.
The people on the deck fly into chaotic combat, blades singing and cannons blasting. Fireballs sail through the air, crashing into wood and fizzling away, leaving gutted messes in its place. Storms whip about them, stirring whirlpools in the sea and rocking the boat ever so violently.
“Get down!” Vane snaps in Ren’s ear, grabbing his robes and dragging him to the ground. Ren cries out, wincing in pain as he rams his teeth against the hard wood of the floor, and he can only pray that he didn’t knock a tooth loose. A fireball sails over his head, and Ren stares, wide-eyed, at the woman who cast it. Another mage, perhaps?
She fixes him with a furious glare and proceeds to conjure another fireball, this time taking aim at them. Ren grabs Ifrit from the strap on his back and raises it high. The fireball that hurtles towards them dissipates as soon as it touches Ifrit’s orb, the sphere growing ever more crimson with each disappearing flame. The pirate takes a step back, and shouts something that Ren does not understand.
Vane quickly pulls Ren to his feet, just before someone’s boot meets his face. Ren gasps as the someone lands on Vane, the latter thrown unceremoniously to the ground. The perpetrator, a woman draped in violet cloaks, turns her gaze to Ren, and she whips out her cutlass.
“Don’t you dare!” Penny cries, darting between them with her dirk out and charged with the anticipating bubble of water. The woman hesitates for a second, then yanks Penny by the wrist and scoops her up into her arms. Her movements are so fast that Ren can hardly follow them, like the Flash. Penny screams, her dirk landing with a thud on the ground, her shriek fading as the woman takes to the skies, her boots powered by mini-tornadoes bursting from the heels.
“W-Wait up!” Ren rushes after her, while Clemon helps Vane up. Ren ducks under blades, sidesteps duels and kick rolling heads away while he pursues the woman who has got a hold of Penny, his friend havng fallen limp in her grasp.
The woman makes a death-defying leap, pushing off from the edge of the Cascasia’s hull. Her lithe body moves in a beautiful arc across the air, and with a single command, her ship begins to move off. Her pirates return to her side, either riding the winds or swinging from ropes as they cross the distance between the Cascasia and the Witches.
Does that mean the ship is planning on…?
Ren isn’t letting her take Penny away! Ren jabs his rod towards the Witches’ ship, a jet of fire streaming forth from the ruby, taking the shape of a dragon. A series of shouts and gasps erupt from the sailors around him, but he ignores their terrified yells. The dragon’s yawning jaw crunches down on the other ship, keeping it in place with its unrelenting bite.
“Revered Luminary! What are you—” Captain Percival does not finish his question before Ren takes off, leaping onto the tail of the dragon. He sprints along its serpentine body, the fire licking at his ankles merely a tickling tease.
Spheres of water soar through the air, aiming for Ren, but Ren ducks and weaves, careful not to lose his footing. With every step, he is approaching the other ship. With every step, he’s getting closer to saving Penny. The adrenaline roars in his ears, his heart pounds and it’s as if time has slowed around him.
He tightens his grip around Ifrit, the rod growing hot against his skin. He’s almost there, reaching the ship, where a band of pirates wait with their steel swords and cutlasses. With a single sweep, however, Ren forces them to scatter, a fan of flames keeping them at bay.
And yet, to make the flaming dragon corporeal has taxed his energy way too much. When Ren touches down on the Witches’ ship, he staggers before falling to his knees. The dragon vanishes, and the red bleeds out from Ifrit’s orb. Dizziness seizes Ren, soon evolving to nausea when he’s grabbed roughly by his arms and dragged to his feet. Ifrit drops from his hand, clattering deafeningly against the wood.
His vision blurs. The pirates surrounding him are blending into a mix of colours. A woman steps forward—Penny still in her arms—and sizes him up. Ren cannot even focus on her at the moment, but only on the unconscious girl in her arms. Penny. She’s just sleeping, right? Not dead? She doesn’t look hurt…
All of a sudden, agony slams into him like a freight train. An audible crack echoes in his skull, and Ren has hardly any time to think before all consciousness was whacked right out of his body.