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The Valenfrost Saga (A Progression Fantasy)
B.3 Chapter 7: Dangers of the North

B.3 Chapter 7: Dangers of the North

The night was at its peak, the cold of Valenfrost nearly enough to freeze the moisture in the air. Black waters lapped against the hull of the traveling ship, its painted wood signifying it as part of the Lumen Kingdom. In some parts of Valenfrost, the simple symbol of the Delphine was enough to repel any trouble out of fear of starting an unnecessary conflict. Still, to some, the symbol was nothing more than a painted target. It was one of the things the captain of this ship was worried about.

Colm sighed tiredly, his fingers moving to rub at his eyes. His ship, the Desroc, had been sailing for nearly two weeks straight. Initially, their voyage was supposed to be finished just a day before Bloom. Unfortunately, bandits and orc ships made it near impossible for Desroc to arrive at its intended destination. While Colm was sure his crew could hold off most bandits, he didn’t want to risk running into dangerous marauders or risk his cargo. However, if it was up to Colm, he would dump the ship’s contents overboard. Despite its ordinary appearance, the Desroc was not an ordinary vessel. The galleon held cargo that consisted of food, supplies, and convicted criminals who were slated to be imprisoned or executed at Norum.

Most of the prisoners were former bandits or marauders, turned in by bounty at major cities across Valenfrost. The Desroc had been on its normal journey, transporting said prisoners over the black sea with minimal stops to assure no escape attempts were made. Two guard ships usually accompanied the transport vessel, but the situation had quickly changed these past few days. For starters, the guardships were driven off by heavy storms and fast moving bandits, leading to the Desroc to go on ahead without them. This resulted in the ship becoming stranded in Northern Valenfrost, with only their compass and an incomplete map to guide them to Norum.

Still, that was the least of Colm’s worries. His thoughts wandered to the dangers that the North held. He heard the stories about the Red Death, the abominable creatures that lurked in the water, clans of cannibals that preyed on lone ships, and the insane followers of chaos that hunted for the strange and dangerous. Colm looked up at the cloudy night sky, his eyes spotting what looked to be a raven, its silhouette visible thanks to the sister moon Luna’s soft light.

‘A raven out here. I wonder if we are closer to land than we would’ve thought.’

“There’s nothing to worry about,” a soft and unfamiliar voice spoke out from behind Colm. The captain turned quickly, his hand already on his small, hidden dagger.

“Oh, it’s you,” he muttered. Standing behind Colm was a man in dark clothing. A cloak covered most of his attire, leaving mainly his wrapped hands visible. A scarf also covered the lower part of his face, leaving only his pale forehead and nose visible. This stranger was a passenger on the Desroc, who had hitched a ride on this vessel in hopes of reaching Norum for some official business. Colm could guess his intentions, as he recognized the small silver pin that signified this stranger as a veteran Bounty Hunter.

“Milo was it?” Colm asked. The strange man nodded, a sigh coming out soon after.

“I take it you’re out here to get some fresh air?” Milo asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah, fresh air.” Colm muttered in response. As cold as the night was, Colm would rather spend most of his time on deck rather than in his quarters. Truth was, the stench of the prison barge was more than enough for the captain. Despite his many years of transporting prisoners, he could never get used to that smell. He’d rather freeze his arse out here rather than spend another sleepless night below deck.

“It’s quiet,” Milo spoke, his eyes narrowing. Colm raised an eyebrow before he turned to the bounty hunter.

“Is that a problem?” The captain could feel his heartbeat raise a little. The bounty hunter before him had more experience out in this territory. In fact, Milo had saved their asses on more than one occasion, making his word valuable as gold.

“Listen,” the cloaked man said. Colm swallowed nervously, his focus turning back to the sea. There didn’t seem to be anything strange about the night, the only sound being the waves hitting against Desroc’s hull.

‘Wait. The sound of the wind.’

Other than the waters, the air was a near dead quiet. Normally, it wouldn’t have raised any alarms for the old captain, since there were times when the sea had turned into a deadly quiet. The thing was, however, was that their ship was in the northern seas, where nocturnal birds of prey were about and silverheads splashed audibly against the waves. Winds were also more than normal in the northern islands, especially during the nighttime.

Colm had never taken the quiet as a sign of something strange, as he was more accustomed to the southern and central parts of Valenfrost. Down there, quiet nights were more than a sign of solace rather than a warning of something going wrong.

‘I’m a damn fool for easing up my guard like this,’ Colm thought with gritted teeth.

“There’s a vessel out there,” Milo suddenly muttered.

Colm’s eyes widened. “A vessel? Pirates?” He was damn near ready to sound the alarm, his hand already reaching for his naval dagger. Milo raised a hand, stopping Colm mid-movement.

“It’s not another brig. Listen.”

Colm stared at Milo in disbelief, but knew better than to question the hunter. Colm focused his hearing once again, closing his eyes this time. He could only hear the sound of water hitting his ship.

‘What is Milo saying? The ambience hasn’t changed.’

Colm frowned. He opened his mouth to speak, but stopped himself. Only then did the captain realize that there was also the sound of water hitting the hull of something else. The much distant sound had been drowned out by the waves that struck Desroc.

“It’s a boat,” Colm realized out loud.

“It’s out there,” Milo confirmed.

“Go get the men,” the captain ordered, his hands moving to grab a nearby torch. The bounty hunter did as asked without complaint, his figure moving to the hatch nearby. Colm hurried to the bow of the ship, where the sound was coming from. He raised his torch out as far as he could, hoping to spot the small vessel.

“Anyone out there?!” he shouted. Colm immediately chastised himself after. For all he knew, he could be calling out to stranded orcs or a boat full of raiders. Before he could curse at his own stupidity, a voice called out in response,

“Yes! Please help! My arms tire and I cannot see out here!” It was the sound of a young man in trouble, his desperation clear in his words.

“Don’t worry! We’ll get you out in no time!” Colm shouted out. “Follow the torchlight!” He could hear how the hatch behind him opened, followed by the many steps of his crew. It would be no time before they save the young man and his vessel.

“I… I can’t see it!” The man shouted. “They blinded me! I can’t see!” Colm blinked in surprise. His men had already come to his side, their hands carrying rope and runestones with castings of flare and candlelight. Colm gestured for them to get ready. All the while, he continued talking.

“Blinded? Who blinded you?”

“It was them! The Marauders of the North!”

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Colm looked down at the young man in front of him. His clothes were burnt and slashed, bruised and injured skin exposed to the heavy air of the Desroc’s interior. They were currently in the crew’s quarters, one deck above the prison. The kid in front of the captain wore a dirty blindfold, dried blood staining it. Colm could see the burn marks underneath the dirty rag. Fire had possibly led to this poor man losing his sight. He turned to the ship’s doctor, who was currently bandaging the young man’s arm.

“Any infection? Magic effects?”

“None,” the doctor responded. “He’s lucky his eyes are all that got seriously injured. Judging from these marks, he was hit with a spell–” The doctor was about to lift the blindfold, before the young man slapped the hand.

“Please don’t. It hurts so much,” he whimpered.

“If we don’t examine it, we can’t heal you completely.”

“Doc, let the kid be,” Colm instructed.

The doctor sighed. “Fine. We can check it out later when we reach Norum’s port.” He stood up. “But if he shows signs of a fever–”

“Understood. We’ll let you know,” Colm waved off the doctor, who frustratingly shook his head as he walked away. The captain ignored him. He grabbed a nearby crate, pulling it close so he could sit on it. He focused on the injured man, who had come to the Desroc on a leaking rowboat with nothing more than scars, a blindfold, and a broken oar he used to prop himself up.

“What’s your name, kid?” Colm asked.

“Eli…”

“Eli, can you tell me what happened?” Colm inquired. The young man in front of him seemed to hesitate, his hands gripping tightly onto his makeshift walking stick.

“The ship I was on was attacked. At first, all our lanterns and torches were blown out. We couldn’t make sense of the situation and by the time we realized we were being raided, it was too late…” Eli shivered. “They came under the cover of darkness. We stood little a chance. I was hit with a spell when I tried to flee on a rowboat. It burned for hours and I couldn’t see.” Eli gestured to his blindfold. “I don’t know much after that. Only that I kept rowing into the sea, hoping to get away from it all.”

Colm nodded. “I see.” He turned to his navigator, who sat amongst the surrounding men. “Go to Alf and get him to change course. There’s a good chance we might be in marauder territory.”

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“Yessir.” The navigator moved to grab a roll of parchment nearby as well as a compass before he headed out to go talk with the wheelman.

“Milo, you have more experience dealing with marauders. Go and advise the men on making this ship undetectable as possible.” Colm turned to the bounty hunter.

Milo raised an eyebrow. “I’ve slipped under other ship’s watches, but this vessel is a much different story compared to the longships I’ve been on. Still, I’ll do my best.” Milo turned and walked off.

Eli perked his head up. “What kind of ship is this? It feels much more vast than the other ships I’ve been on.”

“If you’re worried about those marauders coming for us for our cargo, then you’re sorely mistaken,” the captain revealed.

“What do you mean?” the young man asked in confusion.

Colm chuckled at Eli’s cluelessness. “This is a prison brig. We carry only criminals and basic supplies. Even then, they’re not worth a damn thing.” Colm spat at the deck.

“So why do you keep them on your ship?” Eli asked.

“It’s our job,” Colm sighed. “We get paid to transport them to Norum’s dungeons, where they’ll rot for the rest of their lives, depending on how their trials go,” he muttered. “Waste of time if you asked me.”

“More like a waste of good coin!” a crew member called out from his cot.

“Transporting rapists and killers across the black sea is more than a waste of coin. It’s a waste of food and medicine,” one man remarked.

“Damn right,” Colm chuckled out. He could understand where the crew was coming from. The prisoners below were to be fed and properly taken care of, as ordered by King Gareth himself. Colm did not know why the Lumen Kingdom bothered to take responsibility for Valenfrost’s criminals, nor why they put in so much effort into keeping these wastes of space alive.

“If it were up to me, I’d throw them off my ship,” he commented, earning a laugh from his men.

“Why don’t you give them up to a clan?” a calm voice cut through the laughter. Colm blinked. He turned to Eli, who was calm and still. He no longer writhed in pain, nor picked at his bandages. Eli was simply calm.

“What are you talking about?” Colm asked.

“I mean, you could sell them off to other clans. I’m sure they would appreciate the extra manpower given the current state of affairs in the south. Hel, I bet they’ll give you more coin than the Lumen Kingdom,” Eli explained in a ‘matter of fact’ tone.

Colm stared at the young man, who now oozed with a sense of uneasiness. “We’re not selling them off to anyone,” he responded quietly.

Eli chuckled. “Ah, I see. Well, that makes it harder.”

Colm could feel a shiver run down his spine. He glanced at his men, who all seemed unnerved as well.

“Oh! I have an idea. Why don’t I take them off your hands?” Eli offered. Colm could swear the blind man was looking at him, despite having no apparent sight.

“What are you saying?” Colm asked, his hand subtly moving to his belt.

Eli’s smile slowly dissipated. “I’m saying that I’m going to take these men off your hands and walk away. Unless, of course, you’re going to use that dagger on me.”

Colm stopped midway through, grabbing at his weapon. “What the—”

“Make your choice wisely, captain. There are two ways this could play out, none of them in your favor,” Eli murmured.

Colm swallowed. He was only a couple of feet away from Eli. He could easily overpower the runt with ease. From his perspective, Colm had the upper hand. There was no way Eli could stop him. Yet…

“Captain, you best make your choice. Use that dagger, and you and your men’s safety will be forfeited,” Eli warned.

Colm gritted his teeth. “You think you can scare me? I’ve dealt with runts like you before. Thinking you have the upper hand.”

Eli chuckled at Colm’s words. “Really? You dealt with people like me?” The blind man laughed heartily. Colm felt his temper snap, his feet propelling him towards Eli at full speed. Colm never got to pull his dagger out.

A bright flash came out of nowhere, blinding Colm and disorienting him. The effects were on par with the flare casting. Yet there was no indication that Eli even muttered the spell’s name, let alone cast it. Through the ringing in his ears, the captain could hear the sounds of something piercing flesh, followed by the crew’s screams.

“Agh! Bastard!” Colm screamed as he swung blindly. His strikes were interrupted when the deck suddenly lurched to the side. He heard the telltale sound of a ship’s hull being scraped against. Colm blinked rapidly, only to see Eli’s oar pointed directly at him.

“There is no one like me.”

Colm could feel his body seize up, his muscles tense as his balance was lost. He fell to the ground, hard. Colm was paralyzed head to toe, his gaze fixed and his eyes unable to close. He couldn’t speak or move. Even breathing was difficult.

‘He cast that spell without speaking the name or forming runes.’

That wasn’t normal. From his limited knowledge, even high-ranking Wizards needed to speak words of power when casting spells. Staffs and other magical tools made it easier, but it didn’t eliminate that hurdle. Somehow, someway, Eli could cast spells without uttering a word or forming so much of a sign with his fingers.

Colm struggled to move, his eyes focused on the young man in front of him. Blood stained his clothes and staff, prompting the captain to look for his crew. He wished he didn’t. The crew’s bodies were littered around the barracks, their torsos punctured with gaping wounds. Eli sighed, his oar tapping against the stained ground. The blind man then transformed in front of Colm, his clothes glowing as they transformed into silk black robes and armored plates.

‘Illusion magic,’ he realized. ‘Advanced at that. We couldn’t tell it was fake even when we touched him.’

Colm focused on the blind man’s blackened breastplate, where a red handprint was visible.

Eli chuckled. “I told you that you wouldn’t win.”

“Eli! Are they disposed of?” a booming voice rang out from outside. Colm couldn’t move his gaze, so he was stuck watching as Eli answered back,

“Captain is paralyzed. Everyone else here is dead.”

“Quick and clean. Nicely done,” the boisterous voice called out. Colm could hear heavy footsteps as they descended the stairs.

Soon, Colm was met with the sight of a tall man in black plate armor. He wore a coarse fur pelt that swept back as if it was a cape, revealing his black steel plate armor that was clearly enchanted with runes. He was followed by a couple more men in black leather armor, their chests also stained with a red handprint. The tall one surveyed the room.

“I came in at the nick of time, eh?” he muttered.

“I was handling it,” Eli responded.

One of the other men in leather armor grumbled. “It would’ve been faster to raid this ship.”

“Then we would risk the cargo.”

The supposed leader smiled at Eli’s quick response. He slowly nodded. “It was a good call, Eli. It would do us no good if we accidentally killed off half our potential recruits.” His sea-green eyes then seemed to spot Colm, who was still paralyzed on the ground.

‘Oh shit,’ Colm thought in a panic.

This man’s gaze was enough to strike fear in the captain’s heart. After a solid couple of seconds of staring, the big man grinned.

“The captain I presume?” he asked.

“Yes sir,” Eli confirmed.

“Will he tell us everything?”

“Once I get it out of him.”

“Good man, another job well done.”

The giant knelt down, his hand moving to grab at Colm’s hair. He lifted the captain’s head in a way so they could meet eye to eye.

“Hello friend.” The man grinned. “You probably want to know my name. I go by many nowadays, some more infamous than others. For you, however, I’ll introduce myself with my more commonly known name. I am Deimos,” he introduced himself rather formally. “It is a shame we have to meet like this. Unfortunately, my friend, you drew the short stick,” Deimos explained. “We are going to have a nice long chat once we get this ship to port.”

‘The Red Death himself?! Why is he here?!’ Colm could feel his heartbeat rise with every second.

“Deimos, I am sorry to intrude,” a woman’s voice called out. Deimos dropped Colm to the ground, his gaze turning to the voice.

“What is it?”

“The bounty hunter that was on this ship, he’s nowhere to be seen. We believe he has gotten away on a spare boat.”

Deimos sighed as he stood. “He is gone?”

“Yes. The wheelman says he had seen the hunter run off but does not know where he went. Cecil says that one of the rowboats is gone, meaning that he would have escaped. Should we start a search?” the woman asked.

“There is no need, Ivana.” Deimos responded, his eyes scanning the deck. “He’s still on the ship. A smart hunter like him would know that escaping is futile.”

“Understood,” the marauder woman’s voice soon turned into a shout, “Hey! Get your asses searching the lower decks. The hunter is still here!”

Deimos let out a breath, his hand moving to sweep back his hair. “I don’t think he is hiding down there.”

“What?”

Deimos’ grin slowly returned to his lips, his gaze moving around. “In fact, I think he is much closer. Almost as if he is…” Deimos’ hand suddenly shot like an arrow towards the shadows behind him. “Right with us!”

In an instant, a man appeared in his grip, a dagger falling to the ground.

‘I couldn’t make out his movements. He just… moved.’

Colm stared in horror and surprise. He had only made out Deimos’ blurred hand when it grabbed Milo.

“Shadow Step. What a cowardly casting,” Deimos muttered. “What were you planning to do with that dagger? Don’t tell me you were trying to assassinate me?” The Red Death laughed heartily.

“Fuck… you,” Milo managed out in breaths.

“I will give you my praise. You’re one of the few people who tried to go against me despite the odds. Still…” Deimos’ hands moved to grab at the hunter’s skull from the sides, leaving the pale man’s body hanging like a doll. Colm watched in horror as Milo suddenly screamed, his feet kicking as he tried to pry Deimos’ hands away.

“Aside from one person, you will never have a second chance to try again,” Deimos muttered before his hands pressed further. Colm could see how Milo’s head was slowly crushed, his screams enough to echo throughout the entire ship.

“When you see that whore, Delphine, tell her to hire all the bounty hunters she wants for her quests. I’ll kill them all and be waiting for her champion,” Deimos stated. Colm couldn’t look away, no matter how hard he tried. He mentally screamed at himself to move, but the paralyzing spell overrode his own instincts. He could only watch as Milo was slowly crushed to death. His screams soon turned to gargling, before to weak begs of mercy, and finally, nothing.

It had only lasted for a minute, but it felt like an eternity for Colm.

‘I’m in hel. This is hel.’

He stared at the Red Death, who had tossed the hunter’s corpse aside as if it was nothing.

“Eli, get the captain’s keys. Ivana, get Cecil to steer this galleon to the fort.” Deimos waved his hand towards his subordinates, who all nodded and went to work. Colm watched as Eli gestured for some of the other men in leather armor to come. They picked up the captain, dragging him off after the blind man pocketed the keys.

“Keep him alive,” Eli spoke out. “We will need him soon.”

Colm desperately wished this was a nightmare. One spawned from a bad batch of booze. He wished he would wake up soon, to see the Desroc arrive at its destination at Norum’s harbor. Unfortunately for the captain, his wishes would go unanswered as he was dragged off to the upper decks.