Nocturna League- Season One Box Set

by Kell Inkston

  She shakes her head as she traces her finger along her dress. “Well its not like I’d have to worry about doing it secretly. All of The Eversea’s Captains quite agree with me. You’ve been quite a prude, monopolizing this whole ‘human souls’ thing for your own gain.”

  “We’re both adults, Pertalaine. There’s no need for you to justify your selfishness to me.” He takes up another glass. “Can I get you anything?”

  She smirks. “How stupid do you think I am?”

  “There’s air in this room, my lovely. If I wanted to I would have done it already.”

  She sighs. “As I said, Captain, old tricks. You’re washed up. With The Black Eye I can resist your control, and I’ve put it in place during the party that no more than a handful of people will be inconvenienced with your… biology.”

  The Captain tilts his head. “So… no drink?”

  She raises a brow. “No thank you, Lewis.”

  “Before I forget,” he says as he brings back his drink. “Where did you get Lewis from? Miss Ketiere’s going to be suspicious that that’s my real name, I’m afraid.”

  She smiles. “It’s what you called yourself for a time.”

  The Captain takes a refined, slow swig. “I most certainly did not.”

  Irefall shakes her head- her expression is poisonously humored. “You most certainly did, Captain. I’m afraid you really haven’t changed one bit. You’re the same man who picked me off the street all those many years ago, and you were probably the same man even before that day. Unlike you, Captain, I’ve grown. I’m smarter, faster and stronger than you ever were, and that really doesn’t seem to have gotten through to you yet.”

  He taps his knee. “I suppose that is the way you would look at it now that you’ve achieved such a… prestigious status… Tell me, bagel: looking back, was it worth it?”

  She squints. “What was, darling?”

  He leans in. “Are you really happier like this, Pertalaine? You command much power over The Eversea, but are you truly of the opinion that this is better than a life of adventure with people who actually like you for who you are?”

  She leans in as well, matching him at height, if not a bit taller. “My people like me.”

  “Because they’re afraid of you, maybe, or perhaps you paid them, or they’re in love with you - I cannot say. I’m talking about people who aren’t afraid of you, and have nothing other to gain from your safety than the preserving of a comrade, a friend, even. Do you really not miss that, an honest life?”

  In a movement common to her, she locks her charming gaze to The Captain’s spectacles. Different than the norm, however, her gaze is real; so real, in fact, that The Captain can almost note a hint of honesty in her eyes, as if the little girl hadn’t died out long ago and was still in there somewhere. “I’m just doing what you taught me to, Captain.”

  “We’ve been over this, I believe,” The Captain says. “The manner in which you’ve decided to take control of others is rather uncaptainly. A matter of fact, I would call it quite slovenly.”

  “That’s easy for you to say. You were born strong, Captain. I’ve had go through far more than you to get where I am today.”

  He looks into his glass. “I will not say you’re wrong, I have not lived your life, but I can assure you that you could have gotten to a great place without resorting to the sort of backhandery you do now.”

  Her gaze sharpens. “What sort of backhandedness do you speak of, my love?”

  “I’ve seen the people you do business with. I’ve seen the sacrifices you’ve made. I’ve certainly seen the lengths you’ve lowered yourself to in order to gain the power you seek.”

  She raises a hand. “I’ve heard it all before, Captain. Just you wait- you’ll see as well.”

  “See what?”

  “Your little pet projects. Those girls of yours, they’ll end up the same way. You’ve only had to go so far into the depths of madness to become what you are, but women can suffer in more ways than men, you know…. You’ve taught me the same way you’ve taught them: do anything in your power to further your goals.”

  “Hrm… I’m not quite sure if you’ve interpreted my advice correctly.”

  She shrugs. “I did as you said, I did anything and everything I could to become the greatest, and here I am! It’s not me breaking the rules, Captain, it’s just me breaking your rules.” She scoffs. “I can’t believe I looked up to you like I did, felt the way I did about you. You really are something else, Captain.”

  The Captain pauses in thought, and hums. “Now how does that work, I wonder?”

  She smirks. “Hmm?”

  “I suppose a correction will be in order.”

  She leans into him in a manner that’s both threatening and enticing. “And how’s that, Lewis?”

  “You say I haven’t gone as deep as you, and yet you see me as less in my head. Do you think it was simply age that made me insane?”

  Irefall scoffs again. “Why of-…” Somehow, she can’t think of a real answer for that.

  “Power isn’t the only display of how far a person has gone off tilt. I’ll tell you now, Pertalaine, all you’ve done is experience human pain to get where you are now- you are still ignorant as to what really hides below. To you they are an inconvenience, or a human tool, rather than a truth you should have embraced long ago.”

  She coos maternally as if to belittle his opinion, but in the same moment he cracks a single knuckle, and she flinches, just as she did when she was on the crew. “Lewis… you don’t need to be so rough,” she says with something resembling a damaged smile.

  “We both know you could beat me here, Pertalaine; you could practically paint this room with my sand if you wanted to. Yet… you’re still afraid of me. Why is that?” He finishes his drink. “You don’t really believe the nonsense you’re spewing out, do you? I’m The Captain and have been taking care of my business for many, many years. Long before you I’ve been dealing with matters like you, humans getting too high up on their britches. It won’t take long for me to take care of you.”

  Her smile is sweet as she brushes a finger along his leg. “Oh? Even though I’ve blocked communication with your precious Nocturna? Your beloved ‘partner’ can’t hear you no matter how very hard you were to try. Do you mean to say your little group here will be able to fight off the overwhelming force of my hired henchmen?”

  The Captain spares a rare moment to grasp her hand upon his leg with his cold, shifting grip. “I have full confidence in the members of my away party to complete the mission- not that I really need them for this.”

  She grins. “Oh, you mean stealing the black eye? Of course you would try something like that- I just knew it.”

  “As I knew that this was obviously a trap. Don’t think I’ve come unprepared.”

  She leans into him even more. The Captain can feel her warm, minted breath. “Of course, my smart little Captain. You know exactly what you’re doing as always.”

  “I do not appreciate the sarcasm, Miss Irefall.”

  “Oh? You’re a perfectly sarcastic person, Captain. Surely you understand that.”

  “Yes, but mine is not directed in as belittling a fashion as-” The Captain stops once Irefall leans in all the way and kisses him, only to be pushed away just as quickly. “Pertalaine, I believe I sai-”

  “Okay, Captain, I’ll be serious,” she says with a smile and that even lower tone than her usual that hints The Captain that she’s about to get nasty.

  “Oh, will you?” He asks.

  She leans in again, this time next to his ear. “Tell me, what’s keeping me from cutting you in half right here, and then put in the call to kill all your men in my manor?”

  The Captain doesn’t flinch. “Because I know you well enough to know you’d rather show all the guests how incredible you are and have me beaten publicly before you bare your teeth for the kill… Besides, we both know who would win in the end, don’t we? If you were to start throwing your punches no
w, my chances would only increase.”

  She coos again, and plants a final peck on The Captain, this time just on the cheek. “Maybe you aren’t so dumb after all, Lewis. At least try to be a good guest for tomorrow when I do decide to kill all of you.”

  “I’m not threatened in the slightest, girl. I’ve waited a long time for this opportunity. If I can’t make you stand down, I’ll be forced to take the ultimate responsibility for what I’ve created, and get truly ‘hands on’ with you.”

  Pertalaine’s expression is vicious one moment, and then suddenly aroused. “Hands on, Lewis?”

  The Captain jolts. “Y-you know what I meant! Like, my hands around your neck!”

  She draws back in guised fear, though her demeanor remains lewd. “Oh, Lewis!”

  “Pertalaine,” The Captain says plainly.

  She quivers in mock defense. “Yes?”

  “Stop making everything awkward- I was simply talking about killing you- nothing more.”

  Pertalaine sighs with a pout. “Fine… you bore me, you know.” She rears up to her normal height and presents her hand with the face of a true businesswoman, if that businesswoman weren’t intending on honoring the deal at hand, that is. “May the best captain win,” she says. The Captain readily takes it up and gives it a hearty shake.

  “That’s more like it. I look forward to seeing just how manipulative you can be.”

  “And I you.”

  At that, the two exit the room, their awkward reunion having found some form of closure through their talk before the real game begins.

  The Degeneracy goes too Far (Or: Matters Related to Survival and Social Decency)

  In the common living halls of Irefall Manor, a disinterested-looking gentleman delivers a couple of ladies to a long set of doors. “Here we are,” Chief Vangair says, nodding at a door. “You’ll find your luggage has already been set inside, Miss Ketiere.”

  Colette hums as she steps up to the knob of the door. “Neat. Thanks ma-” She stops herself once she opens the door.

  A wondrously beautiful room: a large, bracketed window gracing the ornate, rustic accents with an austere, woodland beauty. The smell of chocolate and coffee flows freely from the room, providing a psychologically-human contrast to the relative wildness of the decorum. It’s an okay room, by the standards of most.

  Colette curls out a long, impressed “Whoa”, soon followed by a “nice digs! This is my room?”

  Vangair nods. “Her Ever-Thoughtfulness arranges only the finest lodgings for her guests.” He nods dully over to a wooden cabinet with an array of teabags, coffee tins, and libations of the more seasoned variety. “You and your roommate will have no trouble feeling welcome at the manor. Please come in.” He leads into the room, releasing Grancis from his arm hold to allow her to look about at her freedom.

  “This is a two person room?” Colette asks, nudging Grancis as Colette comes to terms with how much alcohol is available to her in the cabinet, and Grancis comes to terms with how such a comfortable room could be within an environment as shady and hostile as this manor. Perhaps the only detractor is the weird bronze box with a black screen inside and a couple of dial-looking things. Regardless, it’s the prettiest room either of them have seen, they both feel, and while it’s neither to their exact tastes, (Colette would have more weapons and Grancis would have more pastels,) they concur that it is an honor to spend a night within something so artistically arranged.

  Vangair nods again, his cool demeanor untouched. “It certainly is. Note the king-sized bed.”

  Colette raises a brow. “Huh, yeah I guess that is a bit big for one person.”

  Grancis hums. “Well, the overlord’s bed was much larger, actually, but I guess that’s his tastes.”

  Colette winces. “Pretty sure a bed that size was for more than just himself.”

  Grancis looks away in embarrassment. “It definitely was.”

  Colette gains a kind of sass on her face that’s rare for her. “Not a surprise he’d be into that sort of thing with what he made you wear.”

  “Well, he kept his private life pretty secret from us servants. I actually never had a problem with him.”

  Colette raises a brow, she finds that hard to believe. “Yeah, alright.” She assumes Grancis was just too embarrassed to bring it up. She turns to Vangair. “So where’s Gran’s stuff?”

  Vangair looks about. “Stuff?”

  “Uh, luggage.”

  “Well, she’ll be sleeping in another room, so rest assured her things are safe.”

  Colette flinches. “Wait, she’s not sleeping with me?”

  Vangair takes a veiled breath - here it comes. “No.”

  Colette’s brain has a moment of failure as it attempts to process the thought. “But we have roommates?”

  Vangair looks aside. “Yes.”

  “…Well, who?”

  He scratches his nose. “That remains to be determined.”

  Colette ridges forward and Grancis bites her lip pensively. “You mean to say that we could be rooming with anyone?” Colette asks.

  Vangair feels a chill. “…Yes.”

  She pokes a finger into his chest. “And just why did you think this was okay?”

  “I don’t make rules like this, Miss. It was her Honorable Cool-Headedness that came up with the idea. Said she wanted to-” he inhales through his teeth, “-‘spice up the night with a bit of daring co-habitation with no rules and lots of wine’.”

  Grancis looks to the ground in a strange mix of horror and embarrassment. “This might be a problem,” she says.

  Colette scoffs. “Hell yeah it is! Just wait until The Captain hears about this!”

  Vangair sighs. “Just play along and stay put for now until then. Won’t you?”

  Colette shrugs, her gaze turning away to the window. “Fine.”

  And so Colette turned to appreciate the fineness of her room, doing her best to appear as though this was all still the worst thing in the world.

  “And to your room next, Miss Vereyrty,” Vangair says as he offers her his arm once more.

  Colette perks up with canine composure- Grancis picks up on this immediately as she takes Vangair’s arm. “Try to relax, I’m sure I’ll be just next door,” Grancis says with a confident, relaxed smile, just the ticket for calming poor, protective Colette.

  Colette trusts Grancis to be able to handle herself, but she can’t help but be wary if this man were to try and separate them to kill one and then the other. “Be careful, Gran. Like, keep an eye out, alright?”

  Grancis fires a glance over to Colette that is at once condescending and offended - as if Colette’s words were so obvious that they were not even worth saying.

  In response Colette huffs, as if relaxing in an enemy’s palace were an abnormal thing - which it rather is, but she should at least act relaxed. We can certainly all agree on that. “Alright, Gran. Go ahead,” Colette says, her arms crossed and her gaze pointed out the window.

  Grancis smiles brightly, nods, and taps Vangair’s arm. “Alright, Officer.”

  A smile graces his lips with a subtlety that Grancis finds both mature and yet youthful in its appeal. He is obviously a grown and responsible man, but there’s a sliver of fun buried in there somewhere, rather like her father. “This way then.” He spirits her away, politely closing the door behind the two as they make their exit.

  Colette’s only companions are the eldgulls and other sea-birds tossing about gracefully in the wind outside. With a sigh, she hovers a glance over to the libations, then to the weird box - she’ll have to properly inspect both before she can feel truly secure.

  Grancis is lead to her own room by Vangair’s warm, very human grip.

  “Right here- just next door,” he says with a relieved smile now that the difficult girl is out of the way.

  The two scan through the room. A poisonously cute, pastel-colored room greets them with the scent of lavender. The striped white and baby blue wallpaper is decorated with only the
most-pleasant offerings of the Eversea. Small, unthreatening things. Without the strange box, this one instead comes with a fireplace, comfy seat for two, and an elegantly-sorted ensemble of tea and related ware.

  Vangair feels a jolt from her hand, and spots a twinkle in her eye. “Oh my…”

  “Oh my indeed,” Vangair says. “This is to your tastes, yes?”

  “Y-yes! It’s fantastic!” Grancis steps in, Vangair following along.

  He crosses his arms, a weirdly lax gesture for his usual intensity. “Do you like tea?”

  “Yes, it’s perfect, thank you…” she looks through the room and spots an unassuming flat white rock hung up in a display case on the wall. “Mind if I ask what this is?”

  He steps forward. “You’ve never seen a sand dollar before?”

  “Is it a currency from sea people?” She asks, shooting a brief glance his way.

  He raises a brow. “Not at all. It’s just something that washes up on the beach.”

  She draws back. “It’s pretty. Is it really from the ocean?”

  “Well of course…” His expression becomes perplexed. “You have been to a beach, right?”

  She smirks. “I have, once or twice.”

  “Like, a real beach, one that you can swim in.”

  Grancis draws back. “You can swim in some oceans?”

  Vangair hums to himself. “You know, most bodies of water are safe to swim in, just not here.”

  She’s a bit surprised to hear that. “So… swimming isn’t just something you do in freshwater?”

  He snickers. “Where do you come from, Miss Vereyrty?”

  “A village?”

  “From an Eversea island?”

  She looks away in thought. “…No, unless it’s those gates that you’re talking about would make us a really big island.”

  He draws back a moment, shocked at her exceptional ignorance. “Gates, like large gray stone structures that take you to another place?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Those are space gates, Miss. If you traveled through one then you’re definitely not from around here, but neither are most humans, so it wasn’t hard to guess.”