Iris slipped on her boots, adjusted her cap, and rustled her leather jacket. Despite her early rise, her new style got Ludmint to praise her too much for too long. The breakfast with her two lovers stretched longer than usual.

“Return soon, Dear,” Ludmint said. “I wish to see you in this style more often.”

“I cannot always be elegant, although I will be so for you.”

“This is your failing, Ludmint,” Antina said. “Mistress’s style is myriad, but your wardrobe greatly limits her choices.”

“Then we shall invite seamstresses to tailor attires worthy of your grace,” Antina said.

“Your ploy is too obvious,” Iris said. “The deadline will not change. If you accept that you cannot decipher the secrets of the Ancient Vessel, I’ll console you.”

Ludmint soundlessly pouted. She waved at the leaving Iris, who glanced back and winked at her. Iris’s tied hair danced with her gesture, grazing her glimmering jacket. Sunlight sparkled all around like fairies admiring an angel.

There was no need to look back to know what Ludmint was thinking. Iris boarded a carriage to the outskirts of the city. Antina quietly sat opposite her, giving her a nudging stare throughout the ride. Iris teased her with an airy smile that awaited provocation.

“Mistress,” Antina said. “Your fiancée isn’t here anymore.”

“Should I be mindful of her jealousy?”

“You’ve always been attentive, Mistress. Please don’t play me.”

“When have I played you, Dear? Are our matching outfits not sincere?”

Antina coyly tilted her head. She had modified her maid outfit to align with her mistress’s style. The short skirt and slick black-and-white patterns invited praises, which her mistress generously gave. Their appearances no longer resembled a mistress-maid relationship but a sister-pair one.

The carriage followed winding streets that led through intersections of sparse, unfrequented passages. Despite the vacant air, the decorative trees and bushes on the spotless sidewalks glowed healthily. The few passersby didn’t litter or spoil the atmosphere. They carefully strolled past each other, respecting the privacy of fellow strangers.

Tides of faint mist coursed through the buildings. The stone pavements became fainter and fainter as layers of milky white films obscured the path ahead. The ocean enveloped the carriage, which confidently headed into the unknown.

No path ahead existed, nor did the buildings that enclosed the space. Only the overflowed pavement remained in sight, hinting at the destination an unknown distance away.

Iris looked out through the window at the repeating currents. A sharp, salty smell seeped through the carriage gaps and tickled Iris. A picture of a calm, slouching oceanic dusk appeared in her mind. Antina wished to drive away the smell, but Iris stopped her.

Antina frowned. “Such a wasteful performance.”

“First impression is important, is it not?” Iris held Antina’s hand and kissed it. “Is this also wasteful?”

“I enjoyed it, Mistress. How could it be wasteful?”

“I also enjoyed their show. They simply wished to ensure our safety.”

“This little trick doesn’t befit your stature.”

With a forceful swipe of Antina’s hand, a tail of dreary purple glow cut through space. Chilly winds permeated the carriage, shook the curtains, and seeped into the empty environment. Their reach covered the illusory mist, which recoiled away in fright.

Iris blew. Warm, sizzling air took hold of the nightly glow. The atmosphere heated the cushions and pillows surrounding Antina, who lowered her head, blushing.

The mystique of the chilly winds dispersed. The pale mist regained its lost region.

“We are their distinguished guests; By overreaching our status, we step on their goodwill.”

“But Mistress, they failed to live up to your expectations.”

“Those who can satisfy me are few and close by.” Iris covered her smile. “Moreover, she had already exceeded my expectations when she swallowed the Seed of Corruption without hesitation.”

“Would you . . . take her in?”

“My appetite isn’t unending, Antina.”

The carriage driver interrupted the conversation by slowing the carriage. Antina brushed the curtain aside to look at the outside. The drifting tide of mists receded before the guests, revealing a large stone-paved road, whose sides were filled with wagons and strongmen. They hurled boxes of goods and raw materials into the dilapidated warehouses guarded by beautiful pirates.

A tanned lady tilted her hat upward as she walked down a warehouse’s porch and headed for the newcomers. Her right hand held a flintlock gun by her side while her left touched her machete. She glared at the carriage driver’s darkened expression.

“This isn’t a place where a rich person should come.” The lady snickered. “Everything about you screams extravagant.”

“Your disrespect will not be overlooked,” the carriage driver said. “Before you are—”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

The lady pirate flicked her flintlock. An explosion rumbled the surrounding mists. A series of slender, shadowy hands embraced the driver and pulled her away from the bullet, which passed by and hit the carriage roof. A claw clasped onto it, disallowing its impact from harming the roof.

The pirate lost her grip on the flintlock, and her machete shattered in its sheath. Despite the blade fragments cutting her palm, she let out no agonising scream. Her throat closed up as invisible ropes clutched her.

Her face paled, her vision blurring. She collapsed on the dirty ground, cold mist enveloping her motionless body. The chill invaded her body and froze her chest, her lungs, and her heart. She had no idea what happened except that she was losing her breath.

The surrounding pirates reached for their weapons. The people in the vacant buildings raised their bows and staffs. Everyone glared at the driver, who kept still within the strange warmth of her shadowy protection.

A bell disrupted the tension. The pirates, resisting the urge to frown, removed their hands from their weapons, although their postures remained defensive. The door into the main townhouse swung open. Gantil rushed out, her clothes dishevelled, her right hand holding a handbell.

She arrived before her collapsed subordinate and checked on her. The darkness crushing her receded inside the carriage. After making sure the tanned lady had stabilised, Gantil lowered her head at the carriage driver.

“Please forgive her. It’s my fault for not specifying the details of your arrival.”

“I did nothing,” the driver said. “Seek Mistress’s forgiveness. Only she can stop her maid’s punishment.”

“Lady Iris, her disobedience is my fault. I’ll take all the responsibility.”

The carriage door opened. Antina, covered in a slick black maid uniform, stepped down. Her heels clicked against the stone road. The coursing mist scattered away from her presence. She glared at Gantil, who, although standing her ground, humbly avoided the forceful gaze.

Antina tilted away her umbrella and opened it. Its silky dome cast a shadow over her, and an invisible field enclosed the carriage and Gantil. Unexpected screeches bloomed around the carriage. Dark hands towering over the warehouses and townhouses arched down the street. In their grips were hooded cultists, whose features had already mutated beyond humanity.

Gantil and her subordinates readied their weapons, but they couldn’t protect themselves from the bone-crunching sounds and the torrents of bloody messes. The magical field repelled the metallic stench and the crimson dyes, leaving the carriage and the mistress within it untainted.

“What . . . did you do?” Gantil said. “How did you discover them?”

“Your formation is lacking, Gantil. Your opponents have the blessings of the Evil Gods. At least a Grandmaster is needed to evade their detection.”

“You’re Lady Iris’s maid?”

Antina smiled. “Only someone like me is worthy of that position.”

“Don’t exaggerate my importance, Antina,” Iris said. “You’re also a senior member, The Founder’s daughter.”

“And your lover, Mistress.”

Once the umbrella was closed, Antina’s shadow spread outwards. Its black flood covered the neighbourhood. The splattered carcasses, the dripping blood, and the bubbling flesh sank into the magical abyss. Even the terrible stench vanished.

Antina held out her hand. Iris took it as she alighted the carriage. She looked down at the lying tanned lady, who had already woken up but was too nervous to move. Iris’s attention upon her pitiful state pinched her skin. Her naked body under her clothes trembled.

“Get up and apologise,” Gantil said. “Your gun collection will be confiscated if you fail her.”

The pirate lady tensed. She carefully sat up and peeked at the mysterious lady in front of her. She dressed unlike a noble lady, wearing a leathery jacket and a short skirt, giving a handsome vibe.

“I thought you were an enemy. This project is too important to allow any mistake.”

“Your dedication to your cause is admirable.” Iris knelt and tilted up her victim’s chin. “But you shouldn’t have omitted your desires. Greed is a pirate’s virtue, isn’t it?”

“How can I stop myself? Your carriage looks otherworldly.”

“Laurian!” Gantil stomped the ground. “I told you to plead, not aggravating her.”

“I like her boldness. Her presence must have brightened your crew’s mood, Gantil.”

“Does that mean I’m free?” Laurian said.

“Do you want to be free?”

Laurian almost answered, but she kept her mouth shut. That question, coming from the Court of Indulgence, carried significance beyond superficial thought. She delicately stood up and moved to behind her leader Gantil.

“No need to be anxious. I was merely teasing you.” Iris showed Gantil a piece of candy before eating it herself. “We have never forced anyone.”

Iris walked past Gantil and Laurian. The rest of the terrified pirates and workers stood frozen. Antina followed behind her mistress and gave everyone close to her mistress a harsh look. No one dared to stop the two ladies, whose presences dominated even the misty concealment formation.

Gantil caught up to Iris, but Iris opened the door herself. The interior resembled an ordinary living room, the place of their first meeting. A young girl was sitting on a sofa, reading an introductory book on spells and rituals. Mantil raised her head and, recognising her mother’s guest, put down the book and walked shyly to Iris.

“You look much better now,” Iris said. “Is magic your passion?”

Mantil nodded. “Magic is beautiful. I want to be able to channel their marvellous powers.”

Antina examined Mantil. She narrowed her eyes and glanced at Gantil, who naturally came to her daughter’s side and patted her head.

“My daughter has gotten interested in magic since she recovered. She’s been reading the introductory books quite well. I’m planning to find a suitable mentor for her.”

“Royal Magic Academy is one of the best places for her,” Antina said. “Our connection is more than enough to guarantee her entry.”

“It’s too dangerous,” Gantil said. “I’ve made many enemies during my voyages. I cannot leave her at the academy. And I will not take advantage of Lady Iris’s kindness.”

“A peaceful learning environment is great for a beginner, but it is not the only way.” Iris bent down to touch Mantil’s cheek. “Your adventurous spirit doesn’t enjoy a classroom setting, does it?”

“Mother’s stories inspire me. I, too, want to sail the high sea!”

“Even if it’s terrible, perilous?”

“Wherever Mother goes, I’ll follow.”

“What if she wants to join me? I’ll be staying at The Academy conducting research. Will you stay with me?”

Mantil’s eyes sparkled, but she resisted giving her answer. “I’ll . . . endure it.”

Iris giggled. She gently pinched Mantil’s cheek. Mantil didn’t move away but instead persisted through it.

“There’s no need to hide your admiration. The Court of Indulgence never discriminates.”

Gantil covered her daughter’s mouth, her eyebrows twitching. “My apology, Lady Iris. My daughter may have been too enthusiastic. She doesn’t know better.”

“I can recommend your daughter to a witch who’s looking for an apprentice. She, too, is a seafarer, although her allegiance lies under us.”

Iris chatted with Gantil until the crews and workers finished unloading all the precious materials and documents. The tanned lady cautiously entered the room to give her leader a small chest sealed by magically glowing chains. Gantil placed it in front of Iris.

“Please accept this gift, both as an appreciation and an apology.”

Antina tapped the chains. Their radiances faded before they crumbled as dust. Eerie haze escaped, raising like a curtain for the main stage, a dull, grey coin resting on a sunken red cushion. On its face was an insignia of a mermaid getting swept by the endless ocean.

A feminine melody accompanied the coin. An oceanic current bubbled around the room. Thunders and lightning flashed before Iris’s eyes. The sunken ships roared in defiance against its doom.

The coin whispered, but its voice, corroded by time itself, could no longer be heard. Only a faint vibration lingered.

That lingering passion was enough to form a connection. A relic from an ancient dynasty, buried beneath the everchanging tide, resurfaced in the hand of its inheritor.