Under the brisk moonlight, Cira and her skeleton crew began where Chimney Peak met the trees below, carving a continuous runic array in a spiral until they reached the top. Cira hopped off and started placing gems in specific points across the peak which was only about ten feet around or so.

“Rictor, when Gil finishes each catalyst’s array, I need you to recess the gems just beneath the surface. We don’t want them catching anyone’s eye.” As far as value goes, catalysts for the primary elements were common and not usually expensive. That did not mean that any pirate with a spyglass wouldn’t come steal them like a brazen crow. “I know it’s dark, but please don’t mess these up. My life is literally depending on it.”

“I-I would never!” Gil straightened his back and gave her a reassuring nod. “You can count on me for this. I practiced, remember?”

It could not be denied how vastly her artificers had grown in a matter of days, and Cira held the proof of it in her hand as she approached the center of the peak. “You guys really did outdid yourselves with my Shadow Quill here. I’m not sure if I could have done any better myself.” No, that’s not true. If I made it, it would compress into a ring—no into my shadow. Oh, I’m so doing that when I get my aura back. Can my shadow store darkness…? Wait—

Cira realized she was staring blankly at Gil as her thoughts ran wild, “—I will never forget this gesture, Lady Cira. Please, count on me for this.” Did I do something?

And the two were off to work, so Cira started on her own set of glyphs. Beginning with a little something she stole from Captain Wick’s door, Cira laid formed the core for the multi-tiered array which would convert the surrounding untamed aether into refined spatial mana.

Fire, wind, water, earth, and light. These primary elements were all represented by a catalyst as Gil worked his way around in a circle. The intricate runes which strung them together formed a rudimentary mana catchment array, sending it all into the center.

Ordinarily to create pure (refined) aether, one would need to add spatial mana, but that’s what Cira was after. Without the need for full-blown aether, Cira could simply burn up the primary elements for more spatial mana. This operation was much more difficult if she wanted any other type, but Cira was glad not to worry about that tonight.

“That’s the last one!” Gil stood up and wiped the sweat off his brow, “Is there anything left?”

He had to have been low on mana with so little rest and no potions. “No, you two are good. Just wait on the boat and I’ll make the finishing touches.” They hopped back across and watched Cira weave the last glyphs to connect the completed arrays.

Beneath her feet, the complex magic circles all lit up with a nigh-imperceptible light of black and white. In that moment there was sudden tremor that tore through the air and mountain alike, like the first millisecond of an earthquake. The whole world seemed to shudder and then there was nothing. Just the towering stone with dull etchings across its exterior.

“What just happened?!” Rictor desperately held onto the sides of the boat even though nothing and nobody had actually moved, but they both looked panicked.

“Don’t worry. Think of it like a shift in spatial pressure. Miniscule, but impossible not to feel.” She jumped onto the boat with a wide grin plastered on. “Consider it proof of a job well done. Now, take us home.”

___

Cira was having a great night after flawlessly enchanting her first landform, but her picnic was quickly rained on when she came home to Kuja alone, quietly reading at the table. Not a sign of the others having returned. It was the middle of the night, and they had been gone for easily half a day.

Needless to say, Cira grumbled herself to bed and fell asleep in a foul mood. At first, she dreamt of nothing. But that went on for some time, and she thought she was outside, adrift in the shadows. Longer still, and the darkness drifted away like storm clouds, but the sky did not grow much brighter. Neither sun nor stars hung above.

A dreary landscape began to take form with barren hills which rolled into the horizon and a shallow stream snaked between them. In moments, the stone walls and rooftops of a town came into view. Above it all stood a single building. The silhouette of a towering cathedral seemed to reach for the sky. Somehow, Cira felt so very small in its presence.

What is this place? No… Why am I here? I left this place behind a long time ago. Once called home, it existed only as a dark spot in her memories. It had been a while since Cira saw it from this far away. The skyline looked peaceful, but even from this distance, there was a terrible stench.

Cira tried to cover her nose only to realize she had no hands. No arms, legs, or the rest of her body either. Nothing existed here but the world of Cira’s past, she was merely observing. The odor continued to grow until she started flashing back to the top of Wick’s tower.

An older woman’s rotting flesh hung off her bones by a strand of sinew, a child’s eyes were full of maggots, except these weren’t distant memories. Cira had seen them not long ago. The smell was no diffferent, and it was strong. Vivid, as if it were really before her. Cira wondered if her hometown smelled so foul from so far away, but there was no way of knowing. She cared not to dig deeper.

There was no choice really but to resign to her trip down memory lane when relief came in the form of an abrupt knocking on her bedchamber door. Cira awoke with a start and sat up, looking around as she blinked the slumber away. Her blanket had been thrown about at some point as she tossed and turned over night, and she had goosebumps from the cold. “Hmm… I miss Nanri—will you wait a damn minute?!”

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

The knocks upon her door stopped the moment she shouted, though she was grateful for waking from such a putrid dream.

“Dammit. I didn’t even bathe…” Cira had gone straight to bed the night prior and felt the sweat of two days of running around. After deftly disrobing herself of Cirina’s pirate garb, she slipped into a much more comfortable robe. The ones attuned to dark mana were not ideal as she essentially tied herself up in large ribbon, so she picked the first robes she found hanging on the wall. They were woven of a rich cerulean silk, and the matching hat kept her warm.

Cira made her way to the door and swung it open, “What do you want—oh.” James didn’t look half as irritated as he was tired. His eyes barely stayed open, but it was unmistakable how upset he was.

“We’re back. I’m going to bed.” He turned around without giving Cira a chance to reply and fell in with the line of former hostages marching down the hall toward the stairs.

That’s fair… I suppose I should see what’s going on myself. Cira had forgotten how worried she was, but James returning without bad news was enough to tell her everything was fine.

Most of the women passing by gave her weird looks as she yawned and rubbed her eyes in her bedroom doorway, but eventually they were gone, and Cira entered the hallway to follow them upstairs.

There wasn’t much time to wonder where they were going when she got to the kitchen and saw them file onto a massive ship with whose name she refused to speak. Skipper dutifully stood at the stove and Jimbo was nodding out with a flask in his hand.

“So, what the hell happened?” Jimbo’s flask clattered to the table as Cira’s voice stirred him.

“Holy shit! It’s the captain.” He picked it back up and wiped the spill away with his sleeve. “How’s it goin’?”

“Fine, I think, now will you give me a damn report?”

Skipper was in his own little world, juggling pot handles and sprinkling herbs with the flick of a wrist.

“Relax, would you? I just got to bed, ya know.” Jimbo took a long and purposeful swig. “Went great. Shores thought we needed a bigger boat, so we took a detour to Green Pit. A good call, too. Plackelo was no joke. We had to tear a hole in the side of their storehouse with that sun cannon thing, but we were in and out. No problem.”

“Right… Well, that’s good to hear.” She may have had some follow up questions, but Jimbo started snoring and looked too comfortable to keep disturbing. “Guess I’ll go see Shores.”

Tawny was asleep on the couch along with the rest of the crew wherever they fit on the floor or out on the lawn. Shores stood on the opposing deck and waved at her with a tired smile. There was a whole crew of pirates she didn’t recognize around the deck as far as Cira could see into the darkness outside, but she thought a couple of them may have been present when the hideout got raided. It took a lot of people to move a ship that big, so Cira expected this much. She was surprised they made it without crashing into the summit, and mildly impressed even.

Cira reached her fence and leaned over a rose bush, “So? Took you long enough. I was beginning to think Wick caught up with you.”

“Hah! That’s a good one.” He boisterously laughed, “He must be all tied up with something or other, because we didn’t see a single ship all day. He has—well, he had a lot of guards over on Plackelo, but no reinforcements showed up the whole time we were there. It was like stealing candy from a bunch of drunk babies who didn’t want to fight in the first place.”

“I see…?”

What could possibly hold him up? I figured Wick would be on a warpath after we spent the last twenty-four hours stripping his kingdom’s grandeur. Perhaps… Did he go back to Fount Salt? Actually, I can already see it, “They definitely think I won’t look for them there after all this… It has to be where they’re hiding. Aha, I’m so smart!” Or something like that.

On second thought, it wasn’t likely. From what Cira gathered, Fount Salt was below them somewhat, and they escaped high into the sky. He has to know we dismantled his storehouses on Lost Cloud by this point. It’s only a matter of course that we would hit Plackelo as well. Did something more important come up? Whatever could it be?

“We have a necropolis to conquer tomorrow.” The stream of wary women had trickled out and Cira didn’t want to hold everyone up further. “How long will it take you to return?”

“I’ll be back sometime this afternoon. Early evening at the latest. Need anything from Green Pit?”

Cira didn’t need anything off the top of her head, but for some reason she thought it would be fun to see what he came up with. “Surprise me.” She sent him off with a playful grin.

“You can count on me!” He saluted and made his way back to the helm. Cira peeled away after the last of the hostages shot her a dirty look then disappeared below deck. She was glad they were free from Wick’s clutches, but just as glad her crew stepped up to deal with the brunt of that burden.

“Ahh, wait!” A familiar voice rang out and Cira turned around to see a young woman in baggy robes clamber onto the ramp as the deckhands let her pass.

Cira tossed a boarding pass from her pocket, “Don’t like Green Pit?”

“I think they can get there without my help.” Olive almost fumbled the catch trying to balance across the ramp but finally made it to solid land—Cira’s lawn. “What is this…” She turned it over in her hand.

“You need it to enter my barrier.” It was no trouble letting her hang onto a pass which would dissolve in a few days. “I figured you’d stay with the rest. Didn’t you know some of them?”

It was plain as day what would drive a woman to wed Captain Wick—necessity. Convenient luxuries, money, or perhaps the need to survive on an island where one man takes everything. Granted, these reasons were mere postulation. She certainly did not empathize with them.

“You’re my new employer…” The girl sheepishly replied, “aren’t you?”

“Ahh, I get it now.” Cira smiled at her, “You’re after me treasure, aren’t ya?”

“W-well… I mean—” She started panicking so Cira cut her off with the wave of a hand.

“It’s fine. You already earned your keep as far as I’m concerned. I just have to think of what I’ll have you do next…” Cira narrowed her scrutinous eyes while the girl shifted nervously, a slight blush spreading across her cheek.

“W-would it be okay if I rested first? I’m… I’m very tired.” Olive indeed looked ready to drop.

“Of course—as long as you want. Just find a place and pass out. Looks like there are some blankets lying around the yard if you’re cold.”

Her crew seemed competent at cleaning, but doubly so for making messes. Perhaps it would balance out by the time she cared.

Olive awkwardly expressed her gratitude, bent down to grab a blanket, and started heading inside. Cira got a chuckle out of the front door nearly frightening the girl off her feet.

Now what to do? We really need to get to the bottom of Archaeum, but it can’t be helped. My crew needs to sleep. I guess I’ll just head outside and keep making artifacts.

Cira was fully rested, and Breeze Haven had quickly fallen into silence around her. It was the perfect chance to brainstorm some new ideas with which to sorcerously dominate a six-hundred-year-old woman. Not before raiding whatever Skipper cooked up, Cira walked down the steps to hang out with some revenants and over-prepare for her meeting with the Third Order.