Andrius nods hurriedly, cold sweat beading on his back as he glares at Bronx. The damn moron had to get scared and try to use a scroll on Siris. Despite being immediately detected and detained, he still had the foresight to share the results with Andrius. Though obviously a fake status, the mere fact that she has one without any obscuring items tells him that she's more dangerous than they thought. Focusing back on the terrifying woman in question, he nods in agreement.
“Certainly! Why, we have a spare cabin that you can use if you wish.”
“But sir, all the cabins are-” Bronx begins to object, but Andrius silences him with a glare. Of course, all the cabins are full. However, Bronx volunteered his the moment he tried to scan Siris. Now he'll be bunking with the ship's crew for the return trip. Andrius smiles at Siris, leading her back to the ship and directing her to her cabin.
“Your cabin has some spare gear in there at the moment, but Bronx will have it moved out in a few minutes.”
Hearing his cue, Bronx runs down to his cabin and clears his gear out before returning minutes later.
“It's been cleaned, sir.”
“Good. Ma'am, it'll be the third door on the right, second deck.”
She nods, vanishing down the steps to the lower decks with a swish of feathered wings and creaking wood. Andrius sighs in relief, turning to find the captain before pausing. The captain was right there behind him, staring at him with a critical gaze.
“An’ who was that, ye damned mage?”
“That was Siris. She was what we were looking for, and already cleared the hive. We're good to leave whenever you are.”
Johan glares at Andrius.
“An’ who gave you the right to drag more damn people onto my ship? Why, if I didn’ know better, I'd say she was a fuckin’ monster. What, with the wings, scales, and fuckin’ ridiculous affinity.”
That comment brings a raised eyebrow from the Sergeant.
“What about her affinity?”
“Yer telling me that ye can't feel the pressure? That woman has a perfect affinity for at least two things. Creation, and something else. Maybe a third, I can't be sure.”
Andrius pales. What the fuck did I just invite onto the ship?
The trip to the mainland took far, FAR too long for my taste. I ended up staying in my cabin most of the time, only leaving a few times to get some food from the quartermaster. Turns out, a neat little effect of Friea’s blessing is that I no longer need to use the bathroom and can go longer without eating. I spent the extra free time studying the books and runes, learning how to summon things temporarily. I earned two more skills, both summoning skills for temporary minions.
Summon Aetherhawk (Active): Summon a spectral hawk to assist you. Lasts 60 seconds, but can be infused with extra mana to extend time.
Summon Sand Wight (Active): Summon a sand creature to assist you. Lasts 60 seconds, but can be infused with extra mana to extend time.
I practice with them both, admiring the creatures that answer my summons. The aetherhawk looks just like a normal hawk but made of a pale gray mist, and the sand wight appears as an amorphous blob of sand that forms clawed hands and fangs to attack or interact with things. It's in the middle of one of these practice sessions that a knock on my cabin door breaks my concentration. One of the crew members pokes their head in, avoiding eye contact as they speak. Thɪs chapter is updated by 𝙣𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙡~𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙚~𝙣𝙚𝙩
“We're about an hour from port, ma'am. Please gather your things and prepare to disembark.”
They don't wait for a response, simply leaving as quickly as is polite. Putting away the primer, I duck out of the low doorway and make my way to the main deck. Two steps out the door, and a thunderous explosion shakes the boat, rocking the entire ship to the starboard side. I'm topside in moments, my improved stats proving their worth as I take in the chaotic scene before me. The crew scrambles around in panic, shouting orders and loading their own cannons. Meanwhile the captain is standing on the port side with a shimmering cutlass in hand. The severed and smoking halves of a cannonball rest on either side of him, and his wooden peg leg has morphed into something almost natural. Spectral flesh encases the wood, forming a boot where there should be air.
He has on a feral grin, salt white beard fluttering in the breeze from the projectile. Another explosion rings out, and this time I can see the cause. Three ships on the horizon, all flying solid black sails An iron sphere rips through the air towards the captain, but his blade is faster. Enchanted steel cuts cleanly through the cannonball, and a surge of seawater kills its momentum entirely. The two perfect halves land beside the other two, steaming gently from the gunpowder used to fire it. The man laughs like a loon, but the next shot goes nowhere near him. A streak of smoke and fire arcs from a distant ship, on a collision course with the prow of our own.
I haven't been standing here idle, however. Several aetherhawks screech into being, the summoning circle flaring into existence above my outstretched palm. My tattoo crackles to life, and Ouro joins me on the deck. With a roar that drowns out the cannonfire, he dives overboard and blurs through the water. The hawks intercept the oncoming projectiles, and barely a minute later one of the opposing vessels is cleaved in two by a massive arc of pressurized water.
Ouro sends me an impression of satisfaction and value, meaning he managed to salvage something from the demolished ship. I reply with praise and thanks, and he leaps up back onto the deck beside me. After licking my face a couple times and receiving scratches for his help, he vanishes back into the water after depositing his bounty. A pile of gold coins spills onto the deck, and a few conjured hands sweep it all into my bag.
Getting low on space. Going to need to offload some loot when we get to the city.
The second ship sinks, but before Ouro can return with even more gold a blast of mana signals his death. The few remaining hawks charge the last ship, but are also promptly slain by who I can only assume is the enemy captain. The ship's near each other, our own crew preparing cannons and the pair of ballista on the fore deck. Dread falls over me, and I drop to the ground as a shimmering arc tears the space above me. It crashes into the main mast, and barely leaves a scratch on the thick wood. However, the unlucky crew man that didn't dodge in time isn't so fortunate.
He stands there for a moment, seemingly confused about what happened, before a thin line of red appears across his throat and his head rolls away with a shocked expression. The headless body crumples slowly to the deck, no blood leaking from the wound due to the glassy sheen covering it. One of the other crewmates must be a healer, because they rush over and stick the head back onto the smooth cut as a golden light encases their hand. The wound vanishes, and the freshly re-capitated sailor takes a shuddering breath as his eyes refocus.
I'm not afforded the luxury of asking about the seeming revival, more slashes flickering from a figure on the pirate ship and being intercepted by our own captain, who I think is named Johan. Johan parries the attacks with the ease of someone with far too high of a level, and when he finally swings his own blade I can't help but stare in morbid fascination. The world seems to stutter for a moment, the wind cutting off mid gust and every creature nearby paused mid-motion. Then it snaps back to attention, and an impossibly thin line of water flows from his leisurely swing. A blindingly white line trails behind, as though the very air can't help but split at the power condensed into that thin wire. It slices into the other ship like a 1000 degree knife through warm butter, not even leaving a mark as it traces a diagonal mark across the entire galleon. Not long after, the ship parts along that line and sinks with nary a splash. The only thing remaining is a tricorn hat floating on the water among the debris, and I send a hawk to retrieve it when I recover from the shock before stashing it away for now.
The captain looks at me with a strange expression, but before he can say anything the lookout atop the mast calls down.
“LAND HO! CARATA IS IN SIGHT!”