The witch of the pirate ship sat a stool down across from Lucius and sat down, one leg over the other knee. She had on a short skirt, her dignity maintained only by the shadows of dusk, which left just enough that a fertile imagination could connect the shades of color. She grinned down at him, chin in her palm. “You Vassish worship the goddess of the seas, don’t you?”

Lucius dragged his gaze upwards to look into her eyes. “We’re a seafaring people. It’s not surprising those angels set up shop here. What about you? A trickster god?”

“Our goddess Titania rules over luck and fertility. She’s worshiped as a harvest goddess in places.”

“Her symbol is a phallic mushroom.”

The witch laughed. “An old one, maybe. So what? I wanted to ask you if you Vassish fear death on the sea, or if you think that brings you to the embrace of your goddess or something?”

Lucius pressed his head back against the mass in an attempt to look up at the fading sky. The bowl of rice was still across from him, but pilfered by birds. His stomach sat empty save for the acid. “Everyone goes to Shepherd and gets sorted from there. It doesn’t matter where you die, so long as it isn’t in the belly of a beast.”

That gave the witch pause, a genuinely unexpected answer. “I’ve never hear that one before.”

His smirk just made her more curious. “Well, think about it. How would your soul move on if it’s trapped inside another body? Did you think these sea monsters just happened to get so big? It’s because they swallow their prey whole. That way, they get to digest the soul as well as the body.”

“If that’s true, shouldn’t you be afraid of being on the sea?”

“Who says I’m not? I’m a soldier, not a sailor.”

“And what, you got washed overboard in the storm? And they just left you to die?”

“Well, we were being attacked. They didn’t have time to turn around and get me. Surely you saw the whale hunter?”

The witch frowned. She had the full-lipped pout that any courtesan would cultivate. “The snake… Yes, we did see that. Your guardians make it quite difficult to come this far north. Must be so nice to hide behind monsters while you exploit the rest of the world.”

Lucius laughed so hard one of the sailors almost came over and beat him. “That’s rich coming from an Aillesterran. You hide in your forest conclaves so well you even close up the roads! If someone wants to put a stop to Vassermark, they can just march on our cities and we’ll meet them in the field of battle. But only Skaldheim and Drachenreach could dare to do that. Not a bunch of religious pirates.”

“It’s better to avoid a fight.”

“It’s better to win a fight.”

“You know, Vassish boy, I don’t think we’ll get along.”

“And what are you going to do about that? Kill me?”

“What if I do?” Out came the knife again.

He shrugged, as much as he could in the bindings. “Better that than me leading you to my countrymen, don’t you think?”

“Maybe I take some things away from you then. I could cut your thumb tendons. You’d never fight with a sword again. Or…” she pointed the knife between his legs.

“You wouldn’t.”

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“Wouldn't I?”

“The thumbs maybe, but you’d scare your men off if you went below the belt,” Lucius said, jerking his head towards the nearest sailor.

“Fine, you live for now, Vassish boy, but only because if that serpent attacks again, I’m having you tossed off the back as an offering. Understand?”

Lucius snorted and smirked. He said nothing as she left and took her stool with her. Eventually the sun set, and both the pirate ship and the Sea Bird’s Rest had to slow to a crawl. It was too deep of water to throw anchor, but if either ship grew complacent, the currents might ram them upon some hidden rock in the darkness. It was a tense shift of hours, lit by some few lanterns and only a few men.

And so began his escape.

Rope is a temporary binding at best, particularly for someone dedicated enough to dislocate a few of their ribs in order to bend more. He huffed and squeezed and shimmied, and worked himself down the tube of hemp. Sliding his rear across the deck, he skidded out flat across the ship until his head slipped below the highest loop. Then he was free. One loop after the next cinched to the mast and gave him the room he needed to roll out.

Stifling a groan of pain as his body tried to put itself back together, he got to all fours, then up to his feet, and straight for the man controlling the rudder.

He stood a fair chance of throwing the man over, snapping the handle of the rudder, and jumping overboard. This would have positively saved the day, so long as I spotted his blond head fighting the waves.

They hadn’t tied him in the center of the ship for nothing and his escape didn’t go unnoticed. The captain of the ship, Minato, stepped out before him, one hand on his slender sword and one holding a bottle of sake. “Makes you float, does it?” he asked, gesturing towards Lucius’ chest.

“Something like that,” my pupil said, eyeing the nearest railing of the ship now that he knew his game was up.

“I guess maybe we should have fed you properly. Seems that you’ve already starved and become skin and bones.”

“Or maybe that girl should have cut my thumbs instead of just threatened it.”

“Maybe, but then we would have had to listen to your moaning. Besides, I like this better. You’re a fighter, aren’t you? A man like you wouldn’t ever give up on his people without a fight, am I right?”

“More or less.” The captain had drawn closer to Lucius, the ship swaying beneath them. With light wind, however, no waves had splashed over the deck, and the foreign timber stayed firm beneath Lucius’ feet. He never had been good at fighting aboard a ship though, and he knew that fact.

“Honor, am I right? Something Kasumi wouldn’t understand. But, this isn’t a journey fit for honor. It’s not really a fight. We’re brazenly spying…”

“So you are after the sea lanes.”

“Did we ever say otherwise, Vassish boy?”

“So do you have a point you’re coming to? Because if you’re going to stab me, you’ll have to–”

Minato ripped his blade from the sheath, darting forward as his end of the deck rocked upwards. The sword was a simple thing in appearance, but expertly crafted down to the unblemished polish of the edge. He had all the force, all the momentum. The deck was falling away from Lucius’ feet, leaving him floundering to retreat as Minato’s steel lashed out.

It cut through his tunic, into his chest and shoulder, but not deeply. The blade had ripped some tendons but not caught an artery. It hurt like fire, but Lucius threw himself at the captain. Minato’s draw technique had closed the distance, but had left him holding the blade backwards in his off hand. All he could do was hammer it down on top of him, but Lucius dove forward first. Minato’s forearm struck him on the wounded collarbone, but the blade only tangled with the back of his tunic.

Lucius’ good hand shot out and got a fistful of silk, but not enough to bind. It forced Minato to reel back. Lucius slammed his leg into Minato’s calf, shin to muscle. The foreign captain hissed in pain, eyes shut for an instant. Lucius let go to grab again, his right arm dangling useless from the wound. He caught nothing but air. Wind gusted between the two of them, kicking Minato away as he launched off nothing but wind.

“Very good! What a thrill, to clash for life and death on a night time ship. But, the advantage is– ah!”

Lucius abandoned the fight and dove over the side of the ship. As gracefully as he could with one good arm and one good eye, he arced over and slipped into the dark sea. The pirate crew scrambled to get a light on him as he kicked his legs and pumped his arms. He tried to stay beneath the surface, but blood trailed up behind him like an arrow. It pointed right to him.

Eventually he had to come up for air. No matter how quietly he tried to slip between the waves, the Aillesterrans had kept watch. Silently, they sent him a parting gift. An arrow soared through the sky and into his back, barbed and heavy of shaft, it stuck into his lungs.

He coughed, hacking up blood immediately as the salt burned inside him. His stigmata flared to life, but his blood loss proved faster. And so, in nothing but moonlight, Lucius died at sea.

But, his stigmata did keep him afloat.