Malysseus felt the heat in his chest but wrote it off as related to the anger he experienced. The cyclopses had robbed him of his most cherished person. She was likely in the forest somewhere, crushed by her fall. The crew could be searching for days to be able to even bring her body back.

Malysseus did not know what soul fire was, but unknowingly, he had reached into it. That fire in his chest built. The fires did not destroy his soul, but the flames did feed on something within him. His soul would be forever changed.

The cyclopses turned to the strange human on the sand. The flames began crawling from him, seeking the ambient energy in the air. Unaware of the danger they were in—wounded though they were—the monsters pushed on. Both of them were hungry and wanted to eat Malysseus. He didn’t give them a chance.

The fires burning within him erupted from his body as they licked at the air. The sand underneath him was superheated, becoming glassy. The flames expanded. These soul flames licked their way along the beach, consuming the cyclopses. There was nothing left of them except the artifacts they carried. The flames licked their way into the forest. This fire was strong enough to eat the trees. So they did. The flames did not care for life. They wanted only to consume. They wanted only vengeance.

In the end, three artifacts lay on a glassy beach as sunlight reflected off the glass, creating a rainbow of colors.

The cyclopses were both gone, wholly consumed by the flames. Malysseus’ body remained... motionless.

The Captain was dead.

Long live the Captain.

***

The crew waited on the deck of the Opportunity, protected by the sea, for three days and three nights. Gurten was beside himself and spoke to no one, even though the rest of the crew tried. By the end of the third day, the glittering blue flames finally burned themselves out. The forest was practically gone. Miles of it had been consumed by the burning blue flames. Eric came to Gurten that morning, anxious to return to Maripolos.

“Cap-” he began, cutting himself off when Gurten whipped his head. The First Mate’s eyes burned into him like glass in the sun. “Gurten, sir. We should likely be getting on our way. We can retrieve the artifacts. We can retrieve… the fallen. And then we can go home.”

“We must wait for Kewari,” Gurten replied. “It’s what the Captain would want us to do.” The large man struggled to come to terms with himself, let alone worry about other people. He knew only that the Captain’s last wish would be for Kewari to survive. Something about him had changed when the soul fire began to burn. Something that was in his soul.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“She would have returned by now if she could.”

“Then she cannot. Find her and bring her back. Take as many men as you need.”

Eric coughed lightly and cleared his throat. Gurten moved his smoldering eyes to meet the other sailor’s gaze. “How do I put this lightly?” Eric said. “The other uh-men they… they want to come, Gurten, sir. We’ve all lost enough on this trip already. The artifacts are on the beach. We can return with them and put this whole thing behind us. Leave it to other men.”

“Leave it to other men…” Gurten echoed, focusing more on the energy he felt inside. He sat, finally managing to put his own strange feelings aside. Malysseus would want him to be a Captain in these moments. He had, after all, made Gurten the First Mate. Slowly, he nodded. Slowly, he came to terms with the reality of their situation.

“Very well,” Gurten agreed. “Let’s collect the artifacts. Collect whatever information on the island you can. Bring samples of the strange glass on the beach. We set sail in twenty-four hours. We mourn Malysseus. We mourn Kewari. But we take what they fought for: we go home.”

“Thank you, Gurten. Sir,” the young man replied. Malysseus would have been glad to know that he was safe in the end. Although they still had a sea to cross.

“Don’t thank me,” Gurten said. “I haven’t done a thing.”

“I-”

“But I will,” Gurten said, cutting across the other sailor. “I will.”

Gurten wandered the deck. His books held no wonder for him, at least, not now. He only needed to pass the time until the boat set off. Something about the feeling in his chest led him to Malysseus’ reconstructed office and quarters. He stepped inside the familiar area, which the crew attempted to reproduce from the destroyed original ship’s design. Looking around, the scene brought him comfort and pain at the same time.

He sat in Malysseus’ chair. The chair had survived the splitting of the original boat and was placed inside the ship by the crew.

Sitting in the Captain’s quarters—not to take his place—but to feel the presence of his old friend, Gurten remembered the way Malysseus would always smoke a cigar on the ship. He took out a cigar, deciding that the day would be his first and last cigar.

Unconsciously, he held his finger up like a lighter, as his Captain would always do. A small flame flicked to life on his ring finger, leading to a realization of what the soul fire had awakened. Malysseus always talked about how traumatic events of powerful magic created Wizards.

Gurten cast his first spell, a small flame, as he smoked his last cigar.

***

The air was cold when Kewari woke up. She was lying on her back in the middle of some trees. Her eyelids fluttered open. The first thing she noticed was that Malysseus was not by her side. She had been by his, but he was nowhere to be seen. The second thing she noticed was the heat in her body’s muscles. Though she lived, everything ached with a dull soreness. The third thing she noticed was the birds singing beautifully.

Next to her was scorched dirt. Far in the distance, she could barely see the edges of the sea beyond the burnt lands. It didn’t make any sense. The forest was huge, and the trees were mighty. And yet…

The only thing she could see—burning out a few feet from her body—was a small patch of smoldering, glittering blue flame.