by Rosie Scott
As was often the case, Sage sat beside Neliah as they started eating the tough exoskeleton harvested from the day's pesky foes. The two sat a distance away from the rowdier crew members gathered at Cyrene's campfire. Tonight, they glanced up with surprise when I sauntered over and plopped down next to Neliah without a word.
If Neliah was uncomfortable by my sudden presence, she gave no indication of it. Sage watched me curiously as I struggled to tear a piece of leathery meat from a charred slab. After I over-chewed and swallowed a lump still so hard it scraped down my esophagus, I turned to Neliah and said, “As always, you do so well killing things, but you can't cook for shit.”
Amid chewing her own bite, Neliah abruptly laughed until it turned into a coughing fit. I tried to swallow my pride from making her laugh and patted her back as she took a desperate gulp of water to clear her throat.
With watering eyes, Neliah replied hoarsely, “Perhaps I took inspiration from all the bitter and inedible things you consume and decided you'd like extra char.” Somewhat hesitantly, she added, “You Alderi can't give a compliment to save your lives.”
“I've told you before that I'm socially inept,” I retorted lightly. “I've learned from experience compliments don't work on you, so I decided to try an insult.”
Neliah sobered and took another bite rather than reply.
After watching our exchange, Sage said, “Calder did compliment your fighting skill, Neliah. As do I.” With a light-hearted expression, he feigned swinging his greatsword wildly. “I'm sure I only succeeded at looking ridiculous.”
Neliah smiled and glanced up at the Celd. “All that effort for such little gain.”
“Afancs don't fly, correct?” Sage asked me with a hopeful expression.
I smirked. “Don't think so.”
“Thank the gods.” Sage raised his eyebrows. “I'll finally be of some use.”
“You've always been useful,” I argued with a mischievous smile, “at carrying our gear.”
Sage smiled at the jab and made a motion to stand to get more food. “We all have our merits.”
My eyes followed the Celd's walk over to the campfire as I spoke to Neliah beside me. “I didn't know you would stay with us for this trip.”
She fingered the top of her boot subconsciously. “You think I wish to leave?”
“Don't you?”
“No.”
I set my jaw in confusion and swallowed hard, still not meeting her gaze. “Then why do you act like you can't stand to be around me? I know I've gravely offended you, but I don't know why or how to fix it.”
“Calder—”
“Don't brush me off,” I pleaded roughly, still watching the others from our distance. “Tell me what I've done so I can avoid repeating it. You know I'll never figure it out myself.”
“You did nothing wrong,” Neliah blurted in a ramble, reaching up to pull her hair back in a distraction. “It's...me. It's all me. It's always me.”
I frowned with confusion at the vague statement. Neliah had never sounded so disappointed or upset with herself, but the self-deprecation was all too familiar to me.
“Be more specific,” I finally replied.
Neliah laughed humorlessly. “I have my personal demons to work through.”
“What are they?”
“How could I tell you when I've barely come to terms with things myself?” she asked rhetorically.
“I have told you about my past,” I pointed out.
“By your own will,” Neliah argued, “and I have never pressured you.”
“I'm not pressuring you. I only want you to be comfortable opening up to me like I've done with you.”
Neliah exhaled in a rush. “I understand. It's simply more complicated than that.”
Sage turned back toward us after getting a second helping. I swallowed the frustration built up in my chest from not getting any answers. The faces of Aysel and then Patrick flashed through my mind, reminding me of my past failures to let people know what they meant to me. To get it over with, I admitted quickly, “I miss our late-night talks.”
In my peripheral vision, Neliah visibly relaxed. “Me too, Calder.”
A wave of relief washed over me, followed by a bright realization. “You normally call me Captain.”
A small huff. “It's what you are.”
“Yes, but you've called me Calder twice tonight.”
“Do you like it?”
I glanced over, recognizing the same flirtatious words I'd said to her long ago. A small smile brightened Neliah's beautiful lips before she feigned interest in picking at her boot again.
Hope budded in my chest and I answered with the utmost excitement, “I like it a lot.”
Neliah chuckled but remained quiet as Sage took his seat once more.
“What's our plan for tomorrow?” Sage inquired, looking to me for the answer. Lust fogged my head so heavily from Neliah's small flirtation that it took me a moment to understand the direction of his question.
“Ah...we'll reach Misu, no doubt,” I replied. “We'll probably get settled and develop a plan of attack from there. Stay the night before heading out the next morning.”
“I'm sure we'll pick up another list of necessities while we're there,” Sage commented with a knowing smile.
I raised my eyebrows and ran a hand over my scalp. “Probably. And I'll agree to work on getting them so I can be overwhelmed and curse myself for making promises later.”
Sage laughed softly. “You promise the world to these people, Calder, but they're happy with whatever you can provide. You could give them scraps and they'd adore you simply because it's more than anyone else is doing.”
“I feel I owe them more than scraps,” I replied.
“And you will deliver more than scraps,” Sage said with no doubt. “But allow their gratitude and aid to drive you rather than your untimely feelings of ineptitude.”
I nudged Neliah's shoulder. “Sage has a way with words, doesn't he?”
Neliah laughed.
Sage's smile grew wider. “I'm serious.”
“I know. Thank you for the advice.” I cleared my throat and stared at the starry night sky. “All of this motivates me to dismantle Vruyk's gang even more. The wildlands idolize us because we're the only ones promising to bring them goods, but we can't single-handedly supply them. Only after the pirates disperse will things change.”
Sage surmised, “You're saying that whether or not Cale's ferris plan is as you expect, the pirates are still our top priority.”
“Right. They're the root of so many problems here.”
“We're going to need support if you want to make any headway into their numbers,” Neliah advised.
“I know,” I agreed with some frustration.
“How do you plan on doing that?” Sage questioned.
I smirked and met his gaze. “Not a clue. I don't plan anything. I just bumble through life waiting for opportunities to turn up. Something will.” After he chuckled, I added, “In the meantime, let's hope we hear nothing of Cale until our ship's ready to sail in Silvi.”
*
13th of New Moon, 359
Like a curse from the gods, we had barely stepped foot in Misu when news of Cale surfaced.
If Tenesea was a thumbprint on the wildlands, Misu was but a speck of dust. The tiny town was still in development and currently was inhabited by a few round wooden homes that were connected by elevated walkways that doubled as rickety roads. Buildings and pathways alike hovered over the volatile wetlands on wooden pilings. Shallow murky water stood in pools below, though Cyrene explained that within a fortnight the water level would fall to reveal long marsh grasses as the hotter seasons unleashed their full fury on the southern half of the wildlands.
Misu's development was slow and troubled. Many homes and walkways remained unfinished and looked entirely abandoned as the populace succumbed to sickness or deadly wildlife. The birth rate here was low due to its already low population. This was the farthest
settlement from the underground escape tunnel in the north; I only witnessed one Alderi escapee outside of my crew in Misu, and he busied himself carving musical instruments from blocks of dried wood. The others were a mix of humans and Vhiri.
Though the exchange of goods and services served as Tenesea's method of trading, Misu took it to the extreme. The village was so primitive that its civilians set goods on a large communal table that took up the better half of a center walkway and left them for anyone's use. One man delivered a basket full of dried seasoned fish to the table and took a few pieces of parchment before borrowing a weapon file. A woman walked up to the table behind him, took some dried fish, and left a stack of homemade twine hair ties beside the basket.
The people here looked tired and miserable. Not only was everyday life hard in the wildlands' smallest and most isolated settlement, but a series of tragedies had taken their toll on everyone. Cyrene explained that settling Vhiri originally built Misu in the early 300s. Evidently, there were many Vhiri who hated Eteri's warmongering and overbearing ways and escaped to the wildlands only to find its chaotic and bloodthirsty populace distasteful. Thus, a group of dissenting Vhiri had built Misu to isolate it far enough in the south so it could build its own identity. They thought they'd picked the perfect place for a settlement; multiple rivers ran inland from the ocean to hug Misu, and it was just southwest of a lagoon, giving it access to a wide variety of fish and wildlife with which to hunt and harvest resources from. The Vhiri had built Misu to be self-sustaining to support its isolation.
In late-354, disaster struck. Ocean tides rose to unprecedented levels, overwhelming the rivers and crawling over the dangerously low land. The flood devastated Misu, sweeping away many of its buildings and burying its people in debris and mud. The town was effectively wiped off the map, and most of the survivors fled to the north to Tenesea, Silvi, or even back to Eteri where it was safer. Oddly, the ocean's water level hadn't become a problem in the northern wildlands, leaving many Vhiri to speculate the natural disaster was actually the work of a man or god.
Cyrene explained that many believed the flood was the work of Vertun, the god of weather and seasons. Vertun was a god revered in Eteri due to the country's reliance on energetic weather to fuel their mages, and they often praised him for their overabundant storms. Because the Vhiri who built Misu abandoned their homeland and its many temples to the god, some felt Vertun had the right to use his power to force his devout to go back to Eteri. Others attributed the loss to Hades, whose pestilence was already blamed for breaking up the wildlands and drastically changing its climate in the Golden Era.
The most likely conspiracy theory was attributed to a woman rather than a god. Some claimed the flood was the work of Queen Tilda in Eteri, who was so angered over the dissidents she could no longer control within her borders that she found a way to execute them anonymously en masse. How? There were many theories, including using a unit of water mages on a ship a safe distance from the southern coast to create a tsunami and force it inland. Giving credence to this theory were the reports of multiple scouts who claimed they spotted two Eteri warships sailing south toward the tip of the wildlands just a week before the flood. There were no valid destinations for the vessels this far south, particularly not for two galleons. Still, Eteri did not acknowledge Misu's devastation or the presence of its ships in nearby waters at the time of the flood. Even worse, rumors abounded that the frightened Vhiri who took the flood as a sign from the gods and returned to Eteri were imprisoned for treason rather than given mercy.
Regardless of the truth behind the flood, those who survived and stayed started rebuilding, using higher pilings with which to avoid total devastation if the worst came to pass twice. They were plagued by wildlife whose rampant populations were once held back by defending warriors and beastmen. Now, over four years later, an anemic Misu could barely sustain itself.
Our arrival was the most exciting thing to happen for sometime here, and most of the citizens acted accordingly, offering greetings and friendly smiles. One human male with short brown hair hurried past them all, coming to a stop before Cyrene on a northern wooden walkway.
“Jonatan,” Cyrene greeted, appearing apprehensive. “News?”
“Not from the lagoon,” Jonatan replied, motioning back behind him. “But from the southern waters.”
Cyrene paled. “What of them?”
“I spotted a large vessel moving west around the southernmost island mere days after you left,” he explained, shaking his head in confusion.
Based on how many settlers here blamed the great flood of 354 on the occupants of two ships, I understood their panic. Still, the timing was too convenient.
“What kind of ship was it?” I asked.
Jonatan hesitated with a look of regret. “I don't know ships, but it was large. Black flags. Looked dwarven.”
I turned my head slowly to meet Koby's gaze with an unsurprised look.
“What?” Cyrene asked, noticing our reactions. “Are these pirates?”
“The description matches Cale's ship,” I said.
Vallen frowned. “But what the hell's he doing all the way down here?” Turning his attention to Jonatan, he asked, “Did they stop? Did you follow them?”
“They stopped for fishing, but no, I didn't follow them,” the scout replied. “Once they passed the island and kept going, I figured they weren't a threat and returned to Misu. But many things are...off about it.”
“There are no harbors in the west,” Vallen reasoned, almost to himself. “Tenesea's reserves and the ferris paddies were untouched.”
“As of Red Moon,” I pointed out. “That was half a year ago at this point. Why would pirates use a harbor? The best way to steal something is to do it unnoticed.”
“These pirates seem to be a bigger threat than you've all let on if they're after Tenesea's resources,” Cyrene said hesitantly, switching her gaze between me and Vallen.
“The pirates have been a massive threat for years, Cy,” Vallen replied with a hint of impatience. “You're just blind to it while hiding away down here.”
Cyrene crossed her arms over her chest and said nothing, though she seemed offended by Vallen's tone.
Vallen noticed and sighed with frustration. “Apologies. There are about a billion problems ongoing in Tenesea right now, so this is the last thing I want to hear.”
“And here we are in Misu, the asshole of the wildlands,” Jayce blurted crudely, laughing with exasperation. “Half a season away from Tenesea with no way to help if it gets raided.”
Jaecar stepped forward. “I can fly back. It would take me less than half the time.”
“No.” Vallen held up a hand to stop that idea short. “One thing at a time. We're already here. Even if you could make it in time, what could you do? Warn them? I've already done that. Jayce sent out warriors to guard the paddies, and the stock rooms in Tenesea are the most well-guarded in the wildlands. Let's focus on doing what we came here for and getting back as soon as we can.”
Cyrene loosened her stance and offered, “I'll come with you.”
“Back to Tenesea?” Vallen asked.
“Yes. In exchange.” Cyrene tilted her head. “You know how well I can follow a scent. If you're tracking down pirates who plan on striking from the brush, I can find them beforehand and we can sabotage them together.”
“Just follow the stench of rempka,” I commented, and a few of my crew members chuckled.
“Rempka is normally odorless to people,” Cyrene informed me, “but as jaguar-kin I can detect it easily. Its scent comes across as extremely acidic. Unfortunately, in Tenesea or Silvi, odor traces of rempka are everywhere because addicts are commonplace.”
“How could that be possible?” I asked. “We overheard Cale and Vruyk talking in Nahara about how only Celendar grows the rempka plant. Rempka should be rare here.”
With a small smile of amusement at my ignorance, Koby explained, “The rempka plant is called the papafer, and people use
it for far more things in alchemy than making rempka. A Celdic botanist naturalized the papafer to the Silvi Rainforest in the 330s with good intentions, but its growth and cultivation has diversified since. Cale and Vruyk could have visited the wildlands before papafer's introduction here.”
“All right, smart ass,” I blurted, and Koby laughed. “I have the feeling you wait to tell me things like this so I can make a fool out of myself in front of everyone before you correct me with your limitless plant knowledge.”
“No,” Koby retorted lightly, “I try not to mention rempka around you in general considering particular traumatic incidents may reoccur.”
Though he kept his words vague, it suddenly dawned on me why Koby had always been anxious around rempka or those who used, particularly in front of me. He feared I was at risk of becoming an addict after my embarrassing lapse of judgment in Silvi.
“Rempka made me hallucinate about the underground,” I replied quickly, causing a few friends and acquaintances to raise eyebrows and shift awkwardly at the blunt admission. Only Koby, Hassan, and Kali already knew of my overdose. “I hated it. I am at no risk of using again.”
“Good, then.” Koby cleared his throat, dug his hands in his pockets, and rocked back on his heels, thinking of a way to pull the conversation back to comfortable territory. “I didn't mean to change the subject to alchemy. Maybe we should form some sort of plan to kill the afancs tomorrow so we can be prepared.”
“We already have a plan, thanks to you,” I said light-heartedly, helping to dissipate the tension in the air. “Lots and lots of fire, courtesy of Neliah.”