Nathaniel sat in the closed bakery, waiting for Mugs and Limona to finish their work. Mugs had seen him enter, directed him to a booth in the corner of the shop, and then quietly closed up as soon as the last customer had left. She had respectfully told Nathaniel to wait, and that she would clean up before they started their conversation. Limona had argued to sit with him and entertain, as all good hosts should, but a single glare from Mugs had silenced her.
Nathaniel watched the pair work, listening to the bustle of the outside world. Despite his love for the ocean and solitude, he was slowly realising that this was the life that he truly wanted. Small trips into the city, enjoying baked treats instead of fish upon fish - he could seriously get used to some easy living.
Finally, once the bakery was spotless, Mugs brought over another cup of tea and a small, biscuity treat. Nathaniel thanked her, biting it and chewing gracefully. The flavour was exquisite, light chocolate above a buttery biscuit base. He nodded his approval.
Finally, Limona spoke. ‘So, can I go?’
Nathaniel laughed before Mugs could respond. He looked at the girl. ‘You want to be a captain, then?’
‘She’s thirteen,’ Mugs said simply, as though that was the end of the conversation. ‘She will not be traversing the seas.’
Nathaniel sipped his drink. ‘I was that age, lass. However, you already know that I’m not returning to the sea.’
Limona had been smiling. Her lips turned down at that comment. ‘Excuse me, old man?’
Nathaniel looked toward her. ‘I’ve quit, little miss. I’ve just left The King’s Registry with three plots of land. No true sailor owns a plot of land - their ship is all that they ever need.’
Mugs gave the girl a side-glance, before looking back at Nathaniel. ‘Limona is a child of the street. She’s strong willed, intelligent, and most of all, rude. She’s apprenticed at all of the stores on this street, most recently with me. She’s been staying here for the past year.’
‘But now I’m bored,’ Limona said, full of youthful arrogance. ‘I want adventure.’
Mugs nodded, obviously having heard the conversation a hundred times before. ‘I know.’
Nathaniel took a deep breath, looking intently at the small girl. His eyes bore into hers, assessing. She did not look away. She was most definitely strong-willed and would likely have given any man a run for his money on Nathaniel’s ship. Her arms were defined with muscle, and her legs were covered in bruises and scratches. She was no stranger to hard work and hard play.
Nathaniel considered. He’d never had a child before, and he certainly needed a hand or two now. However, was now the right time to offer someone a place by his side? He shook his head to himself. Would anyone in the world accept that offer? If so, shouldn't he capitalise upon it immediately?
He decided to go for the truth, though masked. ‘I have some power, aye. I’ve been working hard for forty years, and plan for another forty at least.’ He lifted his storage box to the table. ‘This is an Everlock Box. Have you heard of them?’
Mugs’ eyes were alight in an instant. ‘An elvish creation? It keeps whatever is inside in perfect condition?’
Limona looked at it, intrigued. ‘So, if I cut off someone’s head, it would stay alive inside?’
Nathaniel chortled again. 'You are a cheeky fucker. However, I can admit -’
Nathaniel halted, facing Mugs' furious stare. He stopped in his tracks. Ironically, this very same box had once served as an ocean-going head delivery service, used to prove to the king that his old, less-than-affectionate attendant had taken an extended, permanent vacation.
‘I have fruit in this box,’ Nathaniel said instead. ‘Simple fruit. I’ve purchased some land in the Dawn Heights - at a ridiculous price - and I planned on heading there today. I need some supplies, of course, but my quest lies in those mountains.’
He felt a shiver run down his back in anticipation, his excitement growing with each passing minute.
Limona looked intrigued, but Nathaniel placed the box back on the bench beside him. ‘I certainly need a hand or two. A bloody strong hand, that is. The land will need clearing, and I expect it will take some time.’
Limona sat back, dejected. ‘I wanted power. I wanted a Cap’n.’
Nathaniel considered this. His own focus on power had begun before the age of thirteen. Well before, actually. The signs had started when he was in single digits, and he had put all of his intention behind it. The girl had a few signs, the power seeping out of her in little waves, but it wasn’t particularly intense.
Just as he had with Grittle, Nathaniel allowed some of his power to seep into the room. This time, he gradually increased the pressure on those within. Mugs shifted uncomfortably, and Limona’s brow furrowed, her eyebrows rising as high as they could go. Soon, trickles of sweat began to form on their foreheads, glinting in the afternoon light. The girls exchanged glances, their faces filled with a sudden, shared realisation.
He lessened it, the room seemingly flickering in response. ‘I have power, little miss. I am a Cap’n, through and through.’
Limona grinned wide. ‘I’ll start packing!’
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Nathaniel wandered through the city streets with Mugs. Thankfully, she had provided him with a small, hand-drawn cart - for a few silver pieces, of course. For the price, he figured it was as good as free. He pulled it along while Mugs stopped to talk to the vendors on their way. Nathaniel had insisted that until he knew what was needed, they should hold onto his coin. However, Mugs refused to let Limona join him unless he could look after her.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
So, Nathaniel pulled his cart through the lower city, allowing Mugs to purchase what she thought was needed - within reason. The lower city was fantastic for material goods but less so for food. They would get that on the way back from the stores along Mugs' street.
They had brought two sleeping packs, both suitable for the higher altitude of the mountains, along with a collection of pots and pans and some fire starters. He inspected shovels, hoes, hammers, shears, and more, all of which he added to the cart. A bucket of nails was on sale for five silver pieces, which Nathaniel collected as well. He found a pack of lanterns, a storage chest, and a large barrel for water. In time, he would need more - much, much more. For now, though, he was quite proud.
As they made their way to the inner city, Nathaniel stopped at a few stalls and picked up some new tunics, as well as a couple of pairs of trousers, and then added a thick fur coat to the mix. He picked up a white one for Limona, asking Mugs for her opinion. She raised an eyebrow, throwing it within the cart. Finally, they headed on to collect the food. Nathaniel spent over an hour deliberating in the seed shop alone.
First, he picked up as many seeds as he could. Given that it was early spring, he anticipated a diminishing return on whatever he grew. However, if he planted quickly enough, he hoped to have enough produce to last through the winter.
He gathered some vegetable seeds, ones that he’d been learning about over the past year. He chose carrots, perfect for the cooler seasons. Next, he picked out some potato seeds. They had been worth their weight in gold on some of his trips, and he’d be damned if he missed out on them now. He also brought cabbage and broccoli seeds, along with tomatoes and beans. Finally, he picked up the last essentials: wheat and rice.
‘Fucking brilliant,’ Nathaniel grinned from ear to ear.
Mugs smiled at him for the first time. ‘Come on, Cap’n. Final stop.’
As a sailor, Nathaniel had extensive knowledge of what foods would last the longest. He would take Limona hunting if she desired, but he knew that holding on to some reserves could make the difference between life and death. So, while Mugs chatted with the store owner, Nathaniel made his way around, making a list:
1. Hard biscuits
2. Salted meats
3. Dried vegetables
4. Dried fruits
5. Salt
6. Rum
He also jotted down some medical supplies, just in case they had them. Herbal remedies and bandages were essential on the seas, so he presumed that they would come in handy at home.
‘These are the dried foods that I’d like, with some extra bits at the end,’ Nathaniel said to the owner, who watched him like a hawk. Mugs read the list over his shoulder. ‘Other than this, I’ll take a few loaves of bread and some fresh meat.’
The woman nodded, reading over the list. She owned a lovely food store, connected to a butcher's next door. It was the perfect combination. The woman slowly collected the items, packed them away into Nathaniel’s cart outside, and then tallied the amount for him. Nathaniel’s mouth dropped open.
Spending a lot on the bitch, aren’t you, Natty?
‘Fuck off,’ Nathaniel said beneath his breath.
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Nathaniel rolled his shoulders as they continued back to Mugs’ shop, only a few doors away. ‘You’ve left me with fewer coins than I’d have liked, lass.’
She shrugged, her large shoulders tapping her ears. ‘I’ve watched you stumble up and down these streets almost every time you’ve stopped in the city. If left to your own devices, I believe you’d find a way to live off of rum and bread. Limona can’t have that.’
Nathaniel harrumphed in annoyance. ‘I’m not that bad, lass. I'm just a sailor.’
‘Hm,’ Mugs said, not convinced. ‘Bring her back in a month or two and I’ll welcome you with open arms.’
‘Deal,’ Nathaniel said. Then, he paused. ‘Unless I’m outlandishly lucky, I’m going to need some help in restoring whatever buildings are up in those hills. Know anyone good?’
He trudged after Mugs, who looked around thoughtfully, as though someone right in front of them might be perfect. ‘I’ve got a brother who works with stone. Well, brother is a strong word. I grew up with him. I know exactly what he would say though if you asked him for help - what any good builder would say.’
‘What’s that?’ Nathaniel asked, thinking of Tinton and his own peculiar preferences..
‘Unless they see the land itself, they aren’t going to help.’
‘Hm,’ Nathaniel thought to himself. ‘I’ll need to think about that one, then.’
They reached Mystic Mugs, the namesake opening the door with a click. Inside, Limona was entertaining a tall man, taller even than Nathaniel. He had thick arms and a round waist, his glinting eyes filled with a hunger for life. He faced Nathaniel, his bald head sinking in respect.
‘Ah, Captain,’ he said, voice clear and precise. He looked at Limona and playfully slapped her across the head. ‘Limona mentioned that she was disappearing off with some strange old man. I was just about ready to confront you. You’re keeping secrets, Limona.’
‘That’s because we don’t like you,’ Limona said, sticking her tongue out.
Nathaniel absorbed the man’s aura. It was musky and strong, like an autumn wind, clear and powerful. None of Nathaniel’s alarm bells rang, but a child almost always spoke the truth. The stranger held out his hand, and Nathaniel cautiously shook it. ‘And you are?’
‘Emerson,’ he said. ‘I own some of the buildings on this street, and run the exotic goods store a few doors down. I noticed Mugs had closed up shop, and was curious to see why.’
Nathaniel snorted, looking at Mugs. ‘This fucker bother you often, lass?’
Mugs gave a tired smile. ‘I can deal with Emerson, Cap’n.’ She directed her conversion to the man. ‘What do you want? I own this property, I can close whenever I like.’
Emerson shrugged, grinning at Nataniel. ‘Closing is always bad for business, Mugs. However, it’s always nice to see if the rumours are true. I’ve always wanted to meet the Captain. That’s a large cart outside. Got everything you need?’
Nathaniel had always had a short temper, though over the years, he’d learned to better manage it. His power began to seep out of him. ‘Yes.’
Emerson’s eyes darted between the three of them, feeling the pressure Nathaniel radiated. ‘Right, then. Providing little Limona is okay, I will take my leave.’
Kill him, Natty. Rip out his throat and suckle on his oesophagus. Give me his blood, yummy-yum, Natty.
Nathaniel rubbed his neck, swearing at the voice in his head.
‘Fuck off,’ Limona said, mimicking Nathaniel’s tone.
The man promptly exited the building, but poked his head through the door one last time. ‘Best keep an eye on these two, Captain. An ogre and an orphan… well, you know what they say.’
WE WILL KILL YOU IN STYLE, WEEDY LITTLE MAN.
The man finally left for good while Nathaniel frowned, his head heavy. Once again, he turned to face Mugs. ‘What do they say?’
Mugs smiled for the second time that day. ‘I have no idea. I’ll find out for you.’
‘Hm,’ Nathaniel grunted. ‘Weedy little man.’
Limona laughed. ‘Strong, though. And he dresses cool. I like him, really.’
‘You apprenticed with him for less than a day,’ Mugs reminded her.
Limona jumped on the counter and picked out a day-old biscuit, crunching on it. ‘Well, I like him but I also hate him, so it didn’t work. Cap’n gets it, don’t you Cap’n.’
Nathaniel pressed his lips together. The girl really was cheeky. ‘Help me with the cart, lass,’ he asked Mugs, ‘and then we can call it for the day. An early night means an early start.’
Limona swore. ‘No lazy morning tomorrow, then.’