731 days after Queen Liliana's conquest of the Gera Kingdom
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Metal rasped against metal in the familiar melody of death and war. Vibrations ricocheted up his arm, jostling his nerves. Ren bared his teeth as he swung his ax to the side. Alethia nimbly avoided the slash, her feet dancing backward. She blew a wisp of her long hair out of her face. Her scar glowed under the moonlight, and her loose black hair played with the crisp wind.
Her grey eyes flashed to the window attached to the room Ren and Aydin shared. Ren stepped to her.
"What?" Ren asked as he surveyed their surroundings, ignoring the inn.
The lush forest was darkened by glowing, iron-grey clouds obscuring the full moon. Every sway of a branch covered its motion with thick shadows until it appeared like a mirage of eerie movement. It rubbed him the wrong way as if something was amiss.
"Aydin wants us to come back," Alethia responded, releasing a long breath.
Ren clicked his tongue, sparing a look at the window.
"Give me a goddamn break," he mumbled, brushing aside the ominous feeling crawling in the depths of his core.
"The man who invaded Sephirah's room said he was captain of the Wasted Sea," Alethia said. "Is there such a person?"
"For skies' sake, woman." Ren refocused his attention on the princess. "You don't know a damn thing."
Her nostrils flared, and she slid her weapon into the sheath on her belt. Alethia started the small trek to the inn, irritation radiating off her tense shoulders in waves. Ren rolled his eyes. Who did she think he was, a damn castle tutor?
It wasn't his place to explain everything, and he sure as hell wasn't going to start doing it tonight. There wasn't enough time in a year to tell her how this cursed world operated. Ren's jaw tightened as he trailed her.
From the window, he noticed Aydin's face peering out at them. The prince gestured with impatience as if they weren't already moving towards the inn.
Bloody idiot.
Ren huffed out a long sigh of exasperation. Alethia glanced at him, her hair clouding her eyesight for a second.
The pair stepped through the tavern doors into the dim dining space. Wooden chairs were flipped over tables pushed against the wall near the fireplace. It gave them a clear path to the staircase. They found Aydin and Sephirah standing with their meager belongings tied and slung across their chests when they reached their floor.
"We're going to the harbor," Sephirah declared with a giddy smile. Ren had no doubt that if her hands weren't full, she would've done a little, stupid clap with the statement.
"What the hell for?" Ren asked in frustration. He just wanted to get to the bloody castle and prepare for the days of reckoning that would follow the Queen's arrival. Was that too much to ask for?
Why must everything be so goddamn difficult?
"Aydin has a plan." Sephirah beamed at him, her eyes dancing with fire and pathetic admiration as if that was supposed to make him ecstatic.
If someone told him three years ago, he would be with an infatuated, insane woman who breathed fire in her sleep alongside her buffoon of a pestering prince of idiotic proportions, he would have dug his own grave and laid in it.
"That's just bloody great." Ren glanced at the ceiling, oozing peer hatred for the bastards wiggling with pleasure at his current predicament. The last place he wanted to be was on a godforsaken harbor—just the thought of being near water was as appealing as taking shelter in piss-stained and rotten alleys to hide away from street gangs amid winter.
Something he'd never grown fond of doing in the past. Ren returned his icy glare to the pair while Alethia remained motionless by his side, a picture of indifference on her face.
"Does the plan lead us to the castle?" Alethia questioned, accepting a leather pouch that Sephirah's outstretched arm held.
"Of course," Aydin confirmed, running a hand through his tossed hair. "Do you take me for a fool?"
Ren opened his mouth to respond, and Sephirah jumped in, pointing an accusatory finger at him. "Don't you dare answer that question, Renny."
"I don't take orders from a madwoman," Ren replied, switching his attention to Aydin. "Or a hare-brained, moron of a prince. Put that scrawny finger down and follow lover boy to the harbor."
If Alethia was going, then he had no choice in the matter. He was genuinely cursed.
"At least I won't die in a cold, empty bed," Aydin jeered with a stupid smirk.
A variety of images flashed through Ren's mind that all ended in the same outcome: Aydin's chopped-off head strung to a fleeing horse and dragged through the inner city, bouncing off cobblestone at the merry tone of piss off. Ren entertained the blissful picture in his thoughts as the group made their way down the stairs.
Aydin passed Ren's cloak and belongings with a jolly chuckle of amusement when they exited the tavern.
I liked it better when he was drunk and miserable.
Alethia stuck close to him as they trailed the village's winding streets. Her hand grasped the hilt of her sword in preparation for the unexpected. Their muffled footsteps on the dirt path filled the stillness of the night, only surpassed by the occasional stray cats and dogs scuffling through piles of garbage in the alleys.
Ren's eyes were in a constant phase of movement as he scanned the area for lurking, grudgeful men with a desire to prove themselves. Ren didn't give a rat's ass how much the Nixian women shattered their pride. If they wanted a fight, he'd provide them with one.
But for once, he hoped it didn't come down to that. Even he recognized the necessity for unity at this point. Wars were won with more allies than enemies. Despite the training from the elders, they remained a fraction of the power required to bring down the Queen. A strong foothold at the kingdom's borders would dwindle the incoming army and allow them to focus on the bigger fish.
Without that, they were just prey waiting for slaughter.
The walk to the harbor was lackluster—just the way Ren preferred his life. The Wasted Sea splayed before them in a downward descent from the village homes. A wooden dock stretched into its murky waters while a line of varying-sized ships swayed with the turbulent waves. Near the pier rested a large stone building with shuttered windows unable to contain the swath of orange and yellow incandescent light that leaked out their corners.
Aydin tilted his head toward the building then descended the trail. The dirt path became muddled with water swashes and jagged stones that they carefully walked over. Disregarded creamy shells with pinkish tones shimmered as the clouds parted, allowing moonlight to discern their wedged spots in the soil.
They paused when they reached the wooden door. Heavy, vigorous winds yanked their hair into an aimless array of tangled chaos, and their cloaks twisted around their bodies in a vice grip. Droplets of water sprayed across their faces as Aydin knocked, the sound wolfed by the vicious, crashing waves and the creaking ships that battled with their anchors to roam with the whims of the Wasted Sea.
The door opened a sliver to reveal an older man's wrinkled dark face. His eyes drooped, and the bags underneath weighed them down further. He wore a red shirt with a thick, padded vest over it and brown trousers shoved haphazardly into dingy boots. When his pale gold eyes latched on Sephirah, they narrowed with suspicion.
"What do you want?" The old man's voice was raspy with disdain.
Sephirah's cheeks flushed. Aydin glanced sideways at her, then directed a charming smile at the old man. "I presume you are the harbormaster?"
"Yeah, I am. What of it?" The man nudged the door forward, his bushy eyebrows the only apparent visible feature.
"Would you kindly welcome us in?" Aydin shouted as the wind picked up howling speed. Sephirah crossed her arm, heat blossoming in the space between the group as her eyes flared. A distant chirp came from the sky where her companion probably circled their position.
The man grumbled in a low tangle of words yet distinct refusal. Ren's frustration and impatience twined and boiled in his core.
"Bloody hell," Ren snapped, stepping past Aydin, knocking into the prince's shoulder. Ren lifted his leg and slammed his heavy boot against the door. A crack went down its center as it flew backward. The man let loose a loud grunt as the broken wood thudded to the ground.
Light filtered the small space from the many torches lining the walls. Laying on his butt was the harbormaster, staring up at them with shock. He held a hand to his temple. The older man winced and groaned as Ren stepped over the threshold.
"I hope that knocked some sense into you," Ren scolded. He looked around the room, noting a desk piled high with paperwork and a bottle of inks and nib pens. On the other side were rows of wooden planks of various sizes, and nailed to the wall were a variety of tools. A fireplace roared with flickered embers, providing a cocoon of desperately needed warmth.
Ren walked over to it, claiming the heat eagerly. Goosebumps raced up and down his chilled arms, and the tremor in his hands relaxed. He faced the group as they entered.
Aydin stared at him with bemusement. "Was that necessary?"
"Whatever you used to con women into that pathetic bed of yours doesn't work around these parts, little princeling," Ren scorned.
"I was being polite," Aydin snapped. "Something you've never been a day in your life, commoner."
"I produce results," Ren retorted, gesturing at the harbormaster who rose to his feet. "Something you can't attest to doing for your fabricated lovers or your kingdom."
"Do whatever you came here to do, or I'm slitting his throat," Alethia interrupted, indicating the man with a tilt of her head and squashing the simmering tension between the pair.
"By the goddess's lovely bones, both of you need severe help," Aydin muttered as he turned to peer at the harbormaster. Sephirah stood by the shuttered windows, pressing a hand to open one side just a crack to look outside. The wind blew her plaited hairstyle behind her shoulders, and her eyes flared red.
Ren stepped to the other side of the fireplace, closer to the lumbar and further from the window. Nova came crashing through the window, banging it open and flying in circles near the low ceiling. The fiery bird sailed down, tucking its wings as it perched on Sephirah's shoulder.
"It's not like the door wasn't already open," Ren grumbled. Of course, the damn bird could have flown through the open entrance. But no, that airhead of a princess just wanted them all to freeze to death.
"Stop breaking things," Aydin exclaimed, rubbing a hand on his cheek. He sighed in exasperation, then addressed the old man who had retreated to a corner of the room with an expression of bewilderment, "I apologize for my companions. I'm sure this is not how you expected your night to go."
"There have been worse nights than this one," the harbormaster said. "What do you want?"
"We want a ship," Aydin stated. "And a crew from your village to man it."
"The hell we do," Ren condemned, stepping away from the fire. Aydin was proposing two implausible ideas: that Ren was getting on a swaying, uncontrollable ship and that he'd be caught dead with any of the villagers who had enough grudges and leftover pride to recklessly murder them all.
He was out of his puny little mind if he thought Ren would agree with any of that.
"That's your plan?" Sephirah inquired, her eyelashes brushing her cheekbones. "You want us to sail to the inner city?"
"It's a faster route than walking or horseback," Aydin explained. "We can get there in a single day by ship. The men in the tavern said the Queen's army would be arriving in two days. So we need to make haste to get to the inner city with enough time to prepare. Moreover, we need to unify this village to hold her off."
Sephirah nodded slowly. "I see."
"Why leave?" Alethia questioned, a hand gripping the hilt of her sword. "We can annihilate a fraction of her soldiers right here."
"Us and what army, princess?" Ren rolled his eyes.
"Our powers combined are enough," Alethia declared, raising her chin and glaring down her pesky nose at him.
"No, the villagers and the Nixian women need to start working together," Aydin rebutted. "We have to start thinking about longevity in this war. They have to save themselves. Then, we'll have morale and unity at a high."
The harbormaster cleared his throat, refocusing everyone's attention on him. "The ship won't be a problem. But you'll have a hard time finding a willing crew around here."
Ren grunted in agreement, staring out the open entrance at the Wasted Sea. In the distance, there was a fuzzy outline of a ship swaying in the waves. Dove white sails flapped in the wind, and if Ren squinted, he could make out the figures rushing across the deck, preparing for the evitable backlashing sea.
Even if they found a crew, why throw themselves into a brewing storm? There was no guarantee they wouldn't be swept away and washed up on land with only their shriveled bones and dusty remains to tell the story. He would rather cut his chances on horseback and wildlife. At least he knew how to survive in the forest.
Ren's eyes drifted away from the ship, observing the water. As usual, the Wasted Sea lived up to its reputation—from beneath the sea rose fearsome mountains, swelling with anger in the form of unforgiving water. Strong winds knocked waves in haphazard directions with enough strength to toss a man past three homes. Yet, as he stared at the sea, it appeared somewhat different for some reason.
He leaned forward. The shade of grey swirling in the deep blue remained unchanged. However, a murky brownness mixed in, almost like flaky mud drifting in a river but encompassing the whole sea. That was new, and his gut screamed that it wasn't the sort of surprise a kid would beam about on their name day.
Something was wrong with the sea.
At that conclusion, Ren refocused on the room, realizing he had missed a bit of conversation.
Aydin directed a flippant hand gesture at the wide-eyed harbormaster. "So, we're in agreement?"
The man's eyes flickered to Sephirah and Nova. "As Her Highness wishes, it will be done by the early light."
The Nixian woman and her lover drifted closer to the harbormaster, shooting into another conversation of logistics and boring stuff Ren quickly blocked out. Alethia crept over to him, turning to track his eyesight to the Wasted Sea.
"Do you feel it?" Alethia's soft voice whispered.
An ominous shiver raced down his spine. "Feel what?"
"Power," Alethia answered, her eyes a mirror reflection of the storm, churning with uncertainty and rapid thoughts. All concealed by an expression wiped of emotions, but Ren could see every worry and doubt as it crossed her mind.
Ren stared at the sea. Water wasn't his thing, not magically, figuratively, spiritually, or whatever other horse shit of a word someone wanted to use. He didn't feel anything but complete hatred. However, he didn't doubt Alethia's observation; if anything, it simply confirmed his gut feeling that something was awry.
"Screw this," Ren snapped. "We're walking."
Sephirah's head turned to him, a frown of disappointment painted on her face. "Have you not been paying attention to the several advantages of going by ship?"
"Does it look like I give a flying shit?" Ren gestured at the scorn on his face.
"Nobody cares what you think," Aydin said. His hazel eyes narrowed on Ren. "It's the best course of action, and it's what we are going to do."
"My ax is about to course down your bloody throat," Ren snapped, taking a step towards the prince.
"You're being unreasonable, Ren," Sephirah spoke with a perplexed expression. Her eyes shifted from Ren to the Wasted Sea, then she clapped her hands, her mouth popping open. "You don't know how to swim. Do you, Renny? That's why you want to walk."
"Shut your damn trap, woman," Ren hissed.
"It all makes sense now," Sephirah exclaimed, stretching her arms out before letting them flop to her sides. "Don't you fret. If anything happens, I'll be the first one to save you, Renny."
Alethia cleared her throat, raising a scarred hand. "I do not know how this swimming works either."
Aydin rested a hand on the princess's shoulder, who shrugged it off. The prince grinned at her. "Don't worry. Saving women graciously is something I excel in."
Ren rubbed a hand over his face and mumbled, "Just let me bloody drown."
"Alright, so it's settled," Sephirah chirped. "We leave at first light."
Aydin turned to the quiet harbormaster. "Do you have space for four and a bird in your quaint, little home?"
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