Five Forged Beings were operating on the mysterious black box that stood on the Upper Deck like a scarecrow in the empty field. Its twin patiently awaited the upcoming attention. The cover of the panel rested on the floor, exposing the horrific kaleidoscope of wires inside of the box metal beings worked on.

Wait, but who is the real Jackal?

The chilly wind invaded from outside the cave. The invader and the summer heat wrestled with impunity, before a cool breeze put its flag of conquest on the corpse of the miserable summer heat.

The Captain stood near the group of robots (Joe gave up and decided to just call them that), inspecting their work with the satisfaction of a well-fed bear.

“Artillery Modules had their wires burned the last month,” Alchfrid explained to approaching Joseph, predicting the question in its entirety. “We now have enough time to fix them. Should be ready by the evening, if stars align.”

“Artillery…”

The module looked like it ripped off the disturbingly familiar looks from the modern battleships. Nine rooms for projectiles presented themselves, ready to unleash the rain of rapid violence. Joe glanced inside of one. He was met with dust and the smell of machine oil.

“How do they work?”

“Magic.”

Joseph’s expression of confusion landed onto the laughing tree.

“No, I am serious. The shells get transported and loaded from beneath. Pain in the arse if you ask me, since the hall between the Wardroom and my room is right there, and the hatch is on the ceiling. Whoever built this ship should get his brains rearranged.”

Alchfrid chuckled.

“Well, if it works, don’t touch it. How this weapon launches its projectiles and how it can direct them, I truly have no idea. Jackal doesn’t explain very well, but it has something to do with specific Spells, woven into targeting electronics and mechanisms.”

“Wait. I thought this ship was fully mechanical?…”

The Captain shook. Even Joe could see that the old man was holding back his amusement.

“You truly thought so? How would you explain the Shields, then? Or the fact that we never had to refuel? Or the fact that the Void Compass is capable of locking onto the land in the Threshold from an unobservable distance? Did you never study physics, Joe?”

“Low blow, Captain… I did, I just had no idea that physics is different in the Threshold.”

“That they are, but we are talking about Magic here, Joseph. Do forgive me, but I am not the best at explaining abstract concepts. And I should get going, anyway.”

Alchfrid pushed his tricorne closer to his eyes and strolled towards the ladder down. Joe stopped him with the question.

“To Ghastly Wail? What for?”

The Captain turned his head around.

“Can a man not enjoy his peace once in a while?”

“I meant… you just keep yourself busy all the time…”

Alchfrid creaked his body. A mischievous spark in yellow eyes was sending Joe mixed messages.

“A fair point. I will not deny the truth. But in the recent month… I had a revelation.”

“Of what kind?”

The khwoaer pondered for a moment.

“In our tiresome performance in the sea of chaos, while carrying on through the hollow belief we call Life, a peaceful harbour at the edge of the world might be the real treasure we are seeking to obtain, ever since the toddler steps of sapience. A man should not let his opportunities of tranquillity sink into the complacency of familiar bedlam.”

Six eyes silently laughed at the bewildered young man.

“And I have a meeting.”

Alchfrid jumped over the railing.

Joe ran up to the edge of the ship and looked down. The Captain waved to him with his tricorne from the ground and walked away.

Of course, he would be durable as a log of a spruce tree.

“Show-off.”

They could have returned to Ghastly Wail together…

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Joseph released everything he had to say in one lengthy sigh. Then he grabbed the still-warm gunwale, planted his legs on the first ledge and followed his Captain, using the less extravagant way.

He joined a small group of sailors on the way to the settlement. He caught some invasive looks (understandable), but not a single person allocated him more attention than necessary. Which he considered to be a good sign.

The boiling lake decided to make the lives of Ghastly Wail inhabitants bearable. At least for this afternoon. The steam died down and the crystal surface of the water invited the seekers with the efficiency of a mermaid. Until the lingering remnants of heat betrayed the true nature of the place the moment Joseph stepped on the bridge.

An armed-to-the-teeth, rolling ball impeded his entry, making him stumble back and stare at the strangely familiar shape of a stout person.

The shape transformed into Ralf upon closer inspection. The cook recognized him a second earlier, and pressed him into a tight hug.

“Kid! Good mo-o-orning! Enjoying the festival, heh?”

Joe would have poured the wise profanities he gathered onto the enthusiastic armsmaster if he could after he found himself barely able to breathe.

For a moment, he felt uncomfortable. Not only because of the position, but because he made an assumption before that Ralf was… not a person who would be a fan of hygiene. Joseph had no clue where his mind got this disrespectful idea from (Hypocrite much, brother?), but his expectations were triumphantly stomped to his relief. The man carried only a faint dusty smell, paired with lingering whiffs of alcohol, not even a hint of sweaty odour, or any degrading stench at all. Which would be shocking even in mundane circumstances, let alone after a summer day in the lawless cave.

Joseph wished for Ralf to ignore his pained expression when his handler would (eventually?) let him out. He would be too ashamed to look at Ralf’s face otherwise.

Seeing as the self-proclaimed hedonist didn’t express any intent in releasing him from the hug, Joe had to push himself out.

“Yeah… kind of…” he tried to find his breath again.

Ralf leaned on the gate near the door into the settlement. His one-hundred percent grin dazzled Joe with its honest innocence.

“You wouldn’t believe what I found last night!”

“A girl that didn’t reject you?” Joe’s raspy voice could use some tuning.

The cook playfully slapped him on the back, almost sending his suffering body flying right into the treacherous lake. The man got the build of a sumo wrestler with the energy of a true boisterous scourge of the sea. A fearsome combination in one large shining package.

“You wound me!” Ralf sang in the cheeriest voice possible. “I am a fire-forged, responsible pirate with the experience to match! I thought you knew me better than that!”

Joe knew him for five days. He was tempted to just tell him about it straight. But Ralf had already moved on, by putting on a serious mask.

“You’ve met Evalyn, didn’t you?”

“How in the world did you find out?!”

The armsmaster grimaced with cold satisfaction.

“George dropped the ball and let it slip when we bumped into each other later that night. He didn’t really want to talk about that, so I shook him up a bit. Literally. He said he saved your arse in the alleyway near the north wall tower. Is it true?”

Joe couldn’t even feel the heat of the lake at the moment. The chilling bloodlust in Ralf’s eyes reminded him of a hunting wolf.

“He did, Ralf. He stood between us and let me get away.”

The cook nodded, but the bloodlust remained.

“What did she want from you?”

That was a very concerning question. What could a stranger, an absolute novice in the world of piracy like Joe possibly do to earn the attention of the mercenary leader, who might also possess some unnatural abilities? Joseph still didn’t have solid ground under his conclusions about Evalyn. Did he really run into someone mind-blowing, or was it but a weird coincidence? The “courtroom” incident stood fresh in his memory, and the lurking presence kept its activity down since then. What if they decided to attack right when his fate crossed swords with Evalyn and her troupe of discount men in black?

But then again, Alchfrid did say that Evalyn’s capabilities were common knowledge. He couldn’t rule out her involvement either.

Damn it. Did he really attract hostility from two Mages? What did he even do to deserve such royal treatment?! Barely five full days had passed since he woke up in the Threshold! Five!

How is that even possible?!

At the very least, Evalyn Hansen presented a thread he could see and hear. The identity of the first attacker had as many clues leading to it as a blank list of paper would have. And even then the list of paper could have fingerprints on it.

…Unless they were working together. The chance of that did not have a number “zero” on it.

He looked at Ralf. The cook nodded.

“You have no idea, do you?”

“Absolutely none.”

The cook stretched his arms. The bloodlust morphed into an intense focus.

“Let’s move to ‘Rattlebones’. Tell me your story on the way.”

Joseph agreed and followed Ralf into the fortress.

*****

The pair of people in black stood near a battered brick building underneath the shadow of a tall tower. Joe didn’t have a pinch of an idea, whether or not they were soldiers of ‘Firelight’, or random passerby who found the black colour to be practical for their surely legal endeavours.

To be fair to them, Joseph was stuffed in black clothes from the crown to heels as well. Makes me look like a hypocrite again.

He did not like the wary look one member of the pair sent him, however. Something sleazy wormed in this steady gaze, forcing his Mind to confront the uneasiness.

Ralf glanced at the man. The person in black chose to direct his attention somewhere else.

“I don’t like them,” the cook growled. “For a good reason, it seems.”

“Are they with ‘Firelight’?”

The armsmaster moved his jaw to a side and snapped his brows together, as if he was chewing a raw lemon.

“Hard to say for sure… they have guns, they dress in black, but so does half of this damned place. The other half prefers to put a clown costume on and stab you in the back while joking about the weather. But the last night I’ve seen these ants around the entire Ghastly Wail, and they don’t seem to like me much. Which means, they go on my list.”

“You have a list?”

Ralf chuckled and rubbed his palms together.

“Every pirate with even a gram of self-respect got one. You might think about writing one too, and I think I know who would be the number one in there.”

Joseph shook his head, smiling internally. He had no intention of admitting it, but a similar thought did visit him last night, right before he went to sleep.

“You might be surprised.”

“What, a ravaging of your Mind is not a good reason to deserve the most scorn? Kid, such softness is not good for your health. Unless you pay attention to her for this exact reason…”

It took him a second to realise what Ralf was implying. Joe growled and hastened his step, leaving the laughing armsmaster behind.