Cap Kieran was the owner of a shoddy frigate with three tall masts and a whole mess of sails Cira knew little about. It boasted ballistae which fired heavy harpoons as long as most nimbus sharks and other mounted weapons she discovered were meant to lob bombs with accuracy up to a few hundred meters.
Pita didn’t seem to like them, and it was not hard to imagine why, so Cira tempered her curiosity. They were simple unenchanted mechanisms anyway, though the suffering they could cause was surely nothing to sneeze at.
“Look, I made these too!” Cira and the boy were sitting atop her newest ship’s deck and looking over the artifacts he had crafted since becoming Kieran’s glorified servant, “They grow even faster than they did back home.”
He brought her to a clay pot that sat between the windbreak of the surrounding stairways leading up to the ship’s helm. A lush orange tree grew from it, branches weighed down with healthy fruit. Engraved in the clay was a depiction of a sprawling tree beside a gentle stream under the bright sun.
She could have guessed it was his work had he not told her, as all his enchantments were similar. Previously he showed her a cooking pot with a picture of a large banquet carved into it, somewhat similar to the hall in which she enjoyed dinner with the people of Heron Village back then.
It could boil soup with no source of fuel. There was a mop with a spiraling current of wind chiseled down its haft that would wring itself out if he stuck it out over the edge. Even a flagon for ale which bore a portrait of snowy hilltops.
I can’t say I like the theme of all his artifacts. It’s clear Kieran found nothing but convenience in Pita’s skill. Such a waste.
“You truly are talented,” Cira could almost feel the warmth of the sun in the engraving on the orange tree’s pot. It invoked emotion and exuded its creator’s will. Not even her own artifacts produced such strong outward feelings. The blood, sweat, and tears this boy shed existed in every uneven scratch from his paltry iron chisel. Somehow with such a rudimentary tool, he still managed to create incredibly detailed and resonant carvings. “I’ve never met an artificer who enchants through pictures and sculptures. I’d say you’ve become something of an artist.”
“Do… do you really think so? Each one is so hard to make though… I feel like I’m really bad at it.” He seemed to hold a lot of doubt, “Kieran always said—”
“Kieran is a fool. One who no longer holds power over you.” The boy blinked in shock, as if he still hadn’t realized it. “I told you before, didn’t I? Enchanting without a needle is not something novices can typically accomplish. And enchanting with something completely unmagical is a feat of willpower almost unheard of. Now that you’re free to spread your wings, I’m sure you’ll become a master artificer one day.”
Cira didn’t say anything because it was too early to be tapped into, but an aura had started gathering within the boy. He smiled up at her unabashedly as a door swung open.
“I found them all!” Uly stepped up from below deck, “Here’s your stupid reports. What does it matter where the glowstone went? It’s long gone by now.”
“Deritium,” Cira swiped the papers from her hands, “A rare and dangerous material created of a stillborn spring, like a malignant tumor deep within an island. So much as touching it is enough to twist your soul. Tell me, have you ever handled it?”
She went pale, “We… we all have.”
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“As I thought.” Because she could see it plainly. Faint, but unmistakable. Even Pita must have touched it at some point. It didn’t seem any adverse effects had manifested, but she had to cleanse a great deal of the ship to remove all traces. This was done by tracking its mana and expending it through conjured light like she did at Fount Salt. “Unfortunately, I don’t have the resources to create the cure, but your affected to such a small degree, I may yet be able to find something to do about it before I leave.”
The reports listed names of captains and trading companies they dealt with. More than ten different entities had purchased deritium just from Don’s last shipment alone. It was safe to say she would never recover it, but her crew could investigate to some degree later on. Cira didn’t recognize a single name on the list, of course. Any big companies or potential connections to any given member of the Gandeux would surely be covered up by a few links in the chain before Kieran was ever involved. Similar to how the Third Order sent a hapless merchant to Lost Cloud to meet Cira.
Now that Cira had an entire team of people to think about important things, she folded the reports up and stored them in her sleeve.
“I’m not gonna die… am I?” Pita looked on the verge of tears.
Oh no, “Of course not! You will be just fine either way. Only advanced cases even show symptoms. It’s nothing to worry about today of all days. You’ve got more artifacts to show me, don’t you?”
“Yeah, but…” The kid looked nervous, like something was on his mind. “Do you think I could travel with you now? Not just to leave, but—but to be your apprentice! You could teach me how to enchant—”
“No!” Uly interrupted, “Absolutely not!”
Cira started to feel sorry for the aimless kid. The only peace he had known was burned down, and the hope of few brief decades granted by tradition to build his own peace was also burned down. These were problems a grown man should have, but Pita was so young he hadn’t yet learned to live for himself.
“But—but I have to. I want to be a great artificer!” He yelled at his sister before turning to Cira, “I swear, I can be helpful now!”
Cira crouched down to eye level and put a hand on the teary-eyed boy’s shoulder, “I’m sure you could, but that’s not what this is about. The places I’m going—even my life is in danger. I’m not nearly as great a sorcerer as my father, and I can’t bring a child somewhere I can’t protect them. I’m sorry—”
“But—but why?!” He demanded, a blubbering, sniveling mess, “You said I have talent, didn’t you? Just a little guidance, and, and… I can help, I promise! I-I can even clean for you. Your drinks will never go warm!”
Now, were a grown man in the tavern groveling before her like this, she would slap the shit out of him. Pita, however, had had it rough. A fragile young lad whose bruises were still healing, inside and out. Sobbing, he tried to fall to his knees, but Cira held him up.
A quick glance at Uly said she wasn’t sure whether to be glad she wouldn’t take him away, or upset that she refused him, but Cira focused on the boy.
“Pita, you don’t want to help me, nor should you strive to find the next figure to serve. Help yourself. That’s why you took the first step away from Heron Village, Is it not?” He choked on his tears, pausing as he looked up at Cira. “My path is clear, but you have hardly stepped onto your own. Why would you want to follow anyone? You have a rare talent that may never bloom should you walk in my shadow.”
Cira motioned over the ship’s deck and the golden landscape below, “Look around. If it wasn’t clear, you have all the resources in the sky. Even your own ship. No one from Paradise to Acher and the surrounding storm will harm or hinder you. I’m sure there are many under my banner who would line up to teach you after I leave, and my captains can definitely help you find a trustworthy crew when you feel like moving on to the next sky yourself. The point is to think about what you want to do. Then use this ship to pursue it.” He had stopped crying, but he wasn’t completely convinced yet, “Of course I have every intention of teaching you what I can during this week.”
“But I… don’t know what I want to do.” He looked lost, and very worried about it.
“That’s fine. You don’t need to know anytime soon. You’re a kid, stupid.” Cira gave a him a playful bop on the head and stood up. “Now what do you say we hop on over to the forge and upgrade your chisel?”
Uly came with, but they ended up spending the rest of the day in the forge. Pita’s big sister couldn’t really complain with his treatment, so her and Cira got along fine. She was happy to see the kid happy. After a few hours of finalizing the designs on his chisel, Cira called it a night. She had a lot of sleep to catch up on and even more things to do when she woke up.