Eddipus took in the opulence of the Rapha council chamber, still carrying the weight of old wisdom beyond his years. By his side stood Val, Low, and Arba, the Rapha guide. The island of Gath itself boasted unparalleled might, its colossal structures breaching the very clouds while its harbor cradled a sea of powerful vessels. Then there was the council chamber itself - The chamber was a cavernous expanse, columns stretching up like the trunks of elven redwood trees, their stone limbs supporting a massive, vast space. The ceiling disappeared into darkness, shrouded from any source of light. Towering before the group, dominating the grand hall was a colossal dais. Its impressive stature was accentuated by five imposing thrones perched atop it. The intricate tapestries hanging behind the thrones seemed to stretch on endlessly. A vibrant stained-glass window cast colorful beams of light onto the scene, illuminating the weighty grandeur of it all with its ethereal glow.
Eddipus's child-like side gave in, breaking through his facade of maturity. "How much longer?" he asked. Arba, in a low, velvety tone, simply replied. "Patience."
Eddipus felt the cold, ancient stones beneath his feet as Val, governor of Seaside Alchov, shifted nervously beside him. The thick air was suffused with the scent of salt from the harbor outside and smoke from the flickering columns and torches, adding to the tense atmosphere.
Val's gaze darted frantically around the posh room, his body tense and ready for any possible attack. The intricate murals adorning the walls seemed to come alive under his scrutiny, depicting scenes of epic battles and ancient legends. "This place is teeming with Rapha," he muttered, his weathered face contorted in wariness. His hand hovered over the familiar weight of his bow, feeling Mercer's solace and protection. Caution was key here. Just another set of Rapha, like the ones that had hurt him long ago and he wondered how Raven and the others were doing. At the behest of Arba, the ladies ventured to the marketplace. Yet in Val's mind, it could very well have been a sinister scheme to divide and conquer, picking off their group one by one. A tactic commonly employed by ruthless Raiders of the past.
****
"By the Master, would you look at that crowd?" Governess Raven exclaimed, her son Isaak striding beside her. Kalia clung onto Isaak's muscular arm, her body pressed close to his as she gazed at the sea of tall Rapha surrounding them.
Daaubond and Vaulurou were close behind, their eyes scanning the towering figures in front of them. The team trudged along a winding path, surrounded by towering trees and countless Rapha. Dressed in earthy tones, the giants stood shoulder to shoulder, creating an impenetrable wall on both sides of the thoroughfare. The air hung heavy with tension as they advanced deeper into the marketplace.
Athens, the captain, remained with the ship along with its sizable crew while Low, Val, and Eddipus accompanied Arba to meet with a committee of Rapha elders. Val had protested against splitting up yet Arba had been adamant they visit the bustling market before they departed. Raven was sure they'd be alright. As always, Val couldn't deny his partner's charm and persuasion. So off they went, weaving through the crowded streets.
The group shifted to single file. Bracing herself, Raven followed Isaak who was leading the way protectively. They made their way down the narrow isle of booths.
As the women gazed upon the overwhelming spectacle before them, a mix of fear and excitement coursed through their bodies. It was like a rush, exhilarating, yet intimidating at the same time. The towering Rapha men loomed over them, their muscular frames casting shadows. Despite their imposing height, they moved with grace and strength, their glistening bodies shown in the sunlight. Their long dark hair added to their handsome appearance. Their fierce presence was undeniable. Raven, Kalia, Vaalurou, and Daaubond could hardly be blamed for their flustered states. Amidst the cacophony, a sense of order prevailed.
Despite his distaste for large crowds as much as his father, Isaak had agreed to join them. He knew how to handle himself in dangerous situations, thanks to Val's guidance. His sword was ready at his side. They weaved through the bustling market, the overwhelming scents of exotic spices and tantalizing sweets that permeated the air.
As they passed a group of Rapha, one of them began singing a haunting melody that spoke of lost love and longing akin to a sea shanty as he wheeled a bushel of grain.
The song went somewhat like this. "Through the thronged sea, they sailed and swam / The air thick with salt and ale span / Lost love and the isle known as gath / Whispers of her haunt them from the past"
"Pearls and charms!" a vendor called. "Pretty pearls for pretty ladies!" A Rapha woman with black starry eyes beckoned to potential customers.
Raven's gaze drifted towards a cart adorned with colorful scarves, where a Rapha woman stood calling out. The governess's interest was piqued. "I'll take one." she said, approaching the cart.
The old Rapha smiled and replied. "It's three coins,"
Raven selected a scarf in vibrant shades of orange and purple. As she deftly draped the scarf, the fabric cascaded down her body and enveloped her. It was clear that the garment was not meant for Westerians, as it covered not only her neck but also her head and shoulders like a shroud. "It's lovely." What was meant to be a delicate scarf now transformed into a head garb, cascading down her backside.
With a swift movement, Raven expertly secured the flowing fabric around her. "Yes," she smiled, admiring her new garment. "Very lovely."
Isaak's keen eyes spotted a booth among the bustling marketplace, beckoning to him with glittering trinkets. Unable to resist, he approached and looked over the wares until his gaze landed on a stunning gold and green pendant. The merchant eagerly explained its significance. "It is meant to be worn on the right breast. The two ancient figures on either side represent the ancient Rapha guardians, Nog and Om, united in their duty to safeguard the green jewel that represents movement, birth, life, love, and exploration. All words symbolizing the ever-changing sea."
With Kalia in mind, Isaak wasted no time in purchasing the pendant and pinning it onto the right side of her chest. "Perfect for my Kalia." Isaak said. "For one who is always moving with deadly grace."
Kalia responded in her native tongue. "Janaleva Sajana." It was a language she had brought with her from Silent Harbor as a young girl. While visiting Alchov, she found an unexpected love for dancing--
At the grand Governor's Hall of Alchov, Kalia twirled and leapt in her vibrant silk dress. As she danced, her eyes met with the governor's son, Isaak. He was young and regal, his brown hair sat disheveled. Kalia couldn't help but steal glances at him throughout the night, her heart filled with longing to be by his side. The music swirled around Kalia, her body moving in perfect harmony. Every moment she was there, Isaak consumed her thoughts, and she would do whatever it took to be close to him. She couldn't resist the pull towards him, no matter how hard she tried to deny it. As the music swelled, he strode towards her dancing form with confidence, his hand outstretched and head inclined. Kalia's heart fluttered as she stopped and took in his sharp attire. "May I have this dance?" he asked, his youthful voice and intense brown eyes met hers, causing goosebumps to form. "Y-yes," she managed to say, placing her hand in his and feeling a quick peck on it. He pulled her close, his hand resting on the small of her back, and they moved as one to the rhythm of the music--
Now that they were adults and Isaak's parents approved, they could pursue their passions. The pin did more than symbolize Rapha culture, it symbolized the birth of their love ever moving like the sea.
As they passed by a booth selling elaborate tapestries, a group of Rapha caught their attention. Raven offered a warm smile as they nodded in greeting, but Isaak's hand instinctively reached for his sword. The tallest Rapha stepped forward with a curious expression. Raven glanced at Isaak and smiled. "It's okay"
The largest Rapha stepped forward. "Newcomers? Are you from Fonde?" he asked.
Isaak felt a twinge, a quiet alarm in the back of his mind. But Raven remained calm and cordial, exchanging pleasantries. "Yes, we rather like the market so far" Raven said courteously.
Isaak heard the distinct sound of coins changing hands. His mind raced with possibilities as he scanned the area and spun around quick.
"Isaak, calm yourself," his mother's gentle voice reprimanded.
But Isaak couldn't calm down. His mind was ablaze with danger, his senses on high alert. His eyes swept the area; measuring it all, carrying with him his father's instincts.
"I sense trouble," he said in a low, steady voice.
Beside him, Kalia gripped his arm tight as he drew his sword. "Isaak," she whispered urgently. "What's happening?"
"Stay alert," Isaak warned, his grip tightening on Kalia's hand as he pulled her along with him. The others followed suit. Raven started to feel the same threat, she wasn't sure from where and pulled a blade-
They all froze in their tracks.
A few meters away, amidst the churning sea of Rapha, three of them stood out, facing them. Tall and fierce-looking with piercing dark eyes.
"Raiders," Isaak muttered through gritted teeth, standing firm.
"We've got trouble," he murmured to Raven, turning his head. Isaak hoped desperately that those three were all there were. His worst fears were confirmed when he saw seven more figures emerging from the crowd, forming a rough circle around them.
At the center of that circle stood Isaak, Raven, Kalia, Daaubond, and Vaulurou - surrounded by danger on all sides.
Kalia stood, her eyes darting with urgency as she released Isaak's arm and took a defensive stance alongside the other girls.
"Raiders?" Raven muttered, her brow furrowed. "Thought we destroyed the last of them with your father, Samson, and Mirranda."
His scowl deepened. "Apparently not?" he breathed.
"How do you know they're Raiders? I've never seen them before," Raven asked.
His memories flashed back to horrors of the past. Abruptly, Isaak felt an instinctual need to move away from the encroaching circle of Rapha. He glanced over his shoulder, noticing that the others had subconsciously backed away as well from the nearest part of the Raider's circle. "Don't you remember that day when Galith had me and there was a pack of salacious Rapha licking their lips, just waiting for their chance?" he reminded her.
"You were so young then, how could you possibly recall? I carried you out of that situation." Raven's protective glare softened.
"One never forgets something like that. Just like Father never forgot his own scars..." Isaak's voice trailed off. "Do you?"
Raven tightened her grip on her dagger as the memory hit her like a punch to the chest. Galith's unwelcome hands, his drunken taunts, and the ale that drenched her hair and stung her eyes. She couldn't shake the feeling of violation and humiliation that lingered. "Never."
"We always knew Galith had sympathizers outside his group. These must be the ones who slipped away and never reorganized at the Hallow."
Isaak scanned the circle of Rapha Raiders surrounding them, trying to keep an eye on each one while casually backing up against a nearby vendor's cart. The shopkeeper looked on with concern etched across his features. "Need any help?" He whispered.
The group spun around in surprise, realizing that the Rapha had been studying them and the group of ruffians for some time. Around the vendor, the large booth held trinkets of all sorts as well as fruits.
Except for a handful of patrols leisurely walking among the market, there wasn't much safety. Seeking refuge from the ruthless Rapha Raiders hot on their trail, they ducked behind the shop stall.
The keeper expertly drew a tattered blanket over the group, veiling them from their relentless pursuers. With a flourish, he opened his arms wide in welcome. "FRIENDS!" he bellowed. "Come see my wares!"
The vendor gave an urgent whisper "RUN." With a swift jerk, he pulled the blanket and the group ran out. As they sprinted through the maze of stalls and vendors, their hearts pounded. Finally reaching a door, they burst into what appeared to be a library, its shelves looming like imposing guardians. Their relief was short-lived as their eyes landed on figures in the back corner - "Oh great, more Rapha." Isaak moaned.
Standing between them and a stairway was a loose group. Isaak froze, still brandishing his sword defensively, while the women stood tall and unwavering beside him against their assailants. But these four Rapha seemed confused, unsure of why the strangers had barged in. "What's going on here?" one finally spoke up.
As the Rapha exchanged a quick glance over Isaak's shoulder, one motioned towards a room upstairs. "Looks like you've got company," he said, his tone embellished with haste. Isaak spun around just in time to see the Raiders bursting through the entrance. Without hesitation, the group bolted past them and towards the top of the steps.
"Keep your distance, this area is off-limits," Isaak heard, as they continued their ascent. "No worries," another voice replied. His senses were heightened, attuned to any potential threats as he glanced behind them, keeping one eye on the retreating Raiders.
They soon entered a back room, with a door ahead of them. Isaak led the way with caution, his eyes scanning for any threats. As they reached an archway leading to a roof overlooking the market, Isaak instinctively stopped and motioned for the others to standstill. His keen hearing picked up faint sounds of customers still milling about below.
"It seems safe," he whispered, looking over the ledge of the building, gripping a ladder leaning against the side. He began his descent, sheathing his sword. Once he reached solid ground, he signaled for the others to join him.
Raven's muscles were tense with nerves as she made her way down the ladder. When they finally reached the bottom, Isaak asked. "What's our next move?" in a low voice.
"Captain Athens and the galley." Raven pointed towards the large dock as the group's hearts raced with anticipation. "It's there we'll wait. If the Raiders find us, they'll find more waiting for them."
They headed towards the safety of the Alchovian ship and Raven took a deep breath, looking at the horizon. "They want a fight? we'll give them one." she said firmly. This was it - they make their stand just as they had before in Seaside.
****
Arba, Val, Eddipus, and Low awaited the colossal presence of the giant elders.
Eddipus' voice cut through the tense air like a blade. His eyes flicked to Val and the rest, his tone wise yet young. "Our words must hit their mark." he warned. "We must penetrate their hearts, weaving through like a well-crafted tapestry. For they must sense the looming threat of Cardamon and Chestme, as tangible as their wall hangings."
"sense?" echoed Val, his scars stretching with a frown. "They must do more than sense, Eddipus. They must act."
"Sensing may be a byproduct of acting, Val." Eddipus countered. "But one must first feel in order to act. Emotions and sensations are the roots that feed our deeds. Without them, we are nothing but empty vessels." His eyes glinted in the dim torchlight. "We must plant the seed of sensing from which deeds grow. If we do not, they will do nothing."
Low squared his shoulders and clasped his hands behind his back, his stance resolute. "Then let us sow the seeds that will withstand even the fiercest storm."
Their shared glance held a momentary assurance before it shattered with the creaking of the grand doors. Silence fell like a cloak over them, their breaths shallow as they heard the thundering of footsteps approach.
The dais was now a stage set for destiny's play as the elder giants' shadows began to stretch across the chambers. Figures colossal and ancient appeared.
"Esteemed Bergelmir," Arba began, voice steady and full of respect.
Their frames seemed to rival the towering Rapha of Gath.
Bergelmir took his rather large throne as another mighty Rapha approached and took his stone seat.
"Lord Cormoran," Arba intoned, his gaze averting downwards in reverence for his mighty leaders.
As Arba's thoughts drifted away, a booming clatter of metal on metal shattered the silence. Another Rapha made his presence known, his massive armor echoing like ancient bells. He took his seat; the giant's posture was a fortress unto itself.
"Stern Hrungnir," Arba declared with reverence. "Your wisdom shines like a beacon on darkened shores."
As the next Rapha entered, her figure was obscured by delicate layers of sheer fabric. Her hair flowed like a living sea, stirring with each step she took. As she claimed her throne, the ground seemed to tremble in awe. She exuded an aura of both royalty and sensuality, commanding attention from all who beheld her.
"The beautiful and wise Ahdod," Arba's tone was filled with recognition and admiration as his eyes lingered on the towering, alluring figure of Ahdod, whose beauty and wisdom were unparalleled among their citizenry. "Her insight has long guided our people." Ahdod's piercing ebony eyes shimmered like a constellation, with an otherworldly and starlight allure.
As the final elder Rapha rested upon the fifth cold, unyielding throne, his eyes blazed with wisdom and experience. His very presence commanded respect, a testament to a lifetime.
"Master Manak," Arba finished, his voice emanating humility as it carried through the chamber. "Esteemed Elders of Gath," he intoned, bowing deeply. "Behold these Fonde, not as mere visitors but as harbingers of a dire warning."
"You may approach this council." Hrungnir's voice boomed through the chamber. Governor Val stepped forward, his eyes narrowing at the six-fingers of each Rapha. Their regal presence loomed before him. His senses were ever alert, his guard never down. He remained vigilant, for his instincts were honed to a razor's edge. Every step he took was cautious and ever calculated. "Cardamon and Chestme pose a threat." Val declared, his words a warning for the elders who gathered.
Low stepped forth, giving a quick bow. "Their thirst for power threatens not only Fonde SSique, but all realms that stand in their way," he spoke with a sense of urgency. "The queen of Cardamon thirsts for dominance and will see to the destruction of all should her ambitions spill beyond our borders. The leader of Chestme has become blinded by his own ambitions making him a more unpredictable and dangerous Glenoid."
"Imagine," Eddipus interjected, his hands gesturing to encompass the expanse of the chamber, "A force so evil that it would see your immense, sacred chamber reduced, the Rapha subjugated, your legacies uprooted like mere weeds in a garden. The force I speak of is known by one name. Valaria, and where she goes, surly Abbadoth would follow."
Val stepped closer to a torchlight casting deep shadows across his scars—a visible echo of the history he had with Rapha Raiders.
"Queen Rose, Lord Nimmod, Valaria. All power-hungry. But we won't let them win. We won't bow down to their corruption. They'll come for Gath next, if they have their way. I'll fight until my dying breath. Join us, Rapha! What say you?"
Eddipus watched the giants' faces, saw the flicker of memory darken their ageless eyes. They too knew the sting of conquest and enslavement. If they could not sway the Rapha of Gath to join them in battle, then all might indeed be lost.
The silence that followed was a chasm, stretching wide and deep between the words spoken and the decision yet unmade.
Low stood, his voice raspy and resonant as it rebounded off the ancient stone of the council chamber. "Esteemed Bergelmir, Cormoran, Hrungnir, Ahdod, and Manak," Low gave a somber breath, "I am but a humble Glenoid who has stepped away from his government." He paused, noting the attentive stillness of the giants. "Now, I and my companions come to you burdened with dire tidings and beg for you to join us."
His gaze shifted from one elder to the next. They were like living monoliths, their faces etched with wisdom, betraying no hint of emotion. The Rapha's vast forms rose from their thrones.
The eldest of them all, Bergelmir, shifted his gaze to his fellow giants. His eyes were set deep beneath a ridge of grizzled brow. They sparked with an elusive glimmer. Was it worry that creased his face, or some other emotion yet unseen?
Cormoran spoke first, his voice like the rumble of distant thunder. "We have heard much, and these warnings are grave indeed." His six fingers steepled against his five, his digits the size of tree limbs, the texture like rough-hewn granite.
Hrungnir's words landed like arrows, piercing Cormoran's speech. His blazing eyes bore into the travelers. "Yet, we must consider the consequences of battling such foes as Chestme, Cardamon, or even this Valaria." The other elders' faces spoke volumes in their subtle shifts and gestures.
Ahdod, usually reserved and wary, gave a solemn nod. "The seductive temptations of power are overwhelming to those that seek it. Once they have it, they seek more. However, we must not only focus on your present battle. If we keep our minds fixed on your wars, we won't see what hides in our shadows."
Val seethed with rage. "Our war?" he spat. "It'll be your war too if you don't act!" Low's claws dug into Val's arm, restraining him from lunging at the Rapha leaders. The tension in the air was palpable, and Val could feel the weight of the past digging deeper than Low's talons ever could.
The elders continued and Manak, the youngest yet no less imposing, crossed his massive arms, squinting at Val. "Our choice carries the burden of two separate worlds. We must seek solitude of thought before merging a path with yours."
****
The gally was abuzz as Captain Athens stood proudly at the helm, greeting the group. Raven, Isaak, Kalia who clung to Raven's son, Daaubond carrying a jug of water like it weighed nothing, and Vaulurou slinking behind them like a specter ready for anything.
Raven's voice crackled through the air to Athens, urgency lacing every syllable. "Remnants of the Rapha Raiders still loyal to Galith are after us."
Athens nodded grimly and turned towards his crew. "We must set sail immediately!" he shouted.
"Captain," Daaubond spoke up hesitantly. "What about Val and the rest?"
Athens' steely gaze softened as he turned to Daaubond. "Fear not, lass. We'll maneuver and bide our time, but I cannot risk the safety of this vessel nor her crew." His words were resolute, tinged with a touch of sympathy for he held great reverence for his governor, and the thought of leaving him behind, even for a brief time, did not sit well with the captain. As one who had braved the treacherous depths of the sea, he had seen it all. But even he could not ignore the looming threat of raiders laying waste to everything in front of him. He had already witnessed such atrocities before, when they decimated their beloved village of Seaside Alcove.
"Not again..." Athens murmured under his breath.
As the shipmates scrambled, a sense of unease settled over them like a heavy fog. Each member of the crew knew that leaving Val and the others behind meant that they were potentially sacrificing their friends.
The sun hung low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the port as the crew of the gally hurriedly prepared for departure. Captain Athens stood on the deck, his gaze fixed on the distant shape of Rapha approaching.
Athens walked to the gangway and gazed upon the Rapha, feeling a twinge of horror take him as he wondered if they were Raiders. He was afraid and It made the moment all the more tense. Of course, Captain Athen's bluffing was his strong suit. He gave a slow, false grin.
They had arrived at the lower end of the gally quick, using their six-fingered hands to clear a path through the port traffic. They had missed most, of course, but the dock workers were not their target as Rapha civilians scrambled away to gather the guard. All the while, Athens had acted with just the barest awareness of his courage and authority, blanketing himself in their embrace. He had lived within the powerful boundaries of the sea for so long that the ocean waves crashed within his mind even in his waking moments, leaving him feeling strengthened and able to push through. It was necessary for Athens to gain composure and keep it in order to not provide any warning to the enemy who had sided up to the ship.
He watched them. They had circled the gally nearing the keel, seeing only a few high open portholes and one main ballast perfect for climbing. He began calling out "RAIDERS!!!" as they climbed and boarded amidship.
Still further removed from the land than he had been in years, Athens had extended the tiniest tendril of awareness to the edge of the abeam leading up the ship's center-line. There he had stood, waiting for the Raiders to inch closer as he unsheathed his blade.
As the moments ticked by, the Raiders had come, and he stepped back into his awareness, reveling in the rush of the dark tide engulfing him. Immediately he felt the waves of his mind recede and unleashed his heightened senses. He was now prepared to protect and strike at his foe.
Now Captain Athens stepped forward, twirling his sword and jumping into action. He ran a giant through and toppled the Rapha overboard. The moment had been flawless, a shining star in the darkness of battle. Yet as all things must end, it was but a mere temporary reprieve. He picked his next target, nearly missing a beam from a six-fingered hand. It was time to create another flawless moment. A far more brilliant shining star to combat the darkness: the triumph of finally driving away the Rapha Raiders.
For a few incredibly short heartbeats Daaubond was paralyzed by shock as she dropped the jug of water, shattering the porcelain shell across the deck.
A surge of emotions overtook her, momentarily paralyzing her. Fear, despair, and an overwhelming sense of futility coursed through her veins, rendering her motionless for a brief moment in time. She faced the enemy; the Raiders, a formidable force compared to her hand-to-hand combat. She remembered as a little girl how they had come and slain her family, raping her loved ones and tearing her home apart.
'MOVE NOW!' An insistent voice blared in her mind, urgent and commanding. 'TAKE YOUR STANCE! FIGHT NOW!..' It urged. She heard it echo through her consciousness.
...and as the Rapha drew near, two of them lit their hands ablaze, and years of ingrained training propelled her into action. Daaubond's emotions became still.
She embraced her past.
Gone was her trepidation, replaced by a calm fury bubbling just below the surface. Despite her still heart, Daaubond was conscious and running, throwing punches with the same strength and precision she used when kneading dough or massaging shoulders for the governor and governess. If death were inevitable, she held onto one truth - that sacrifice for her loved ones was worth any fate. She embraced the concept of laying down her life in order to protect those she cherished.
She had visited Hilltop many times and learned battle techniques given by Master Dante and other elven warrior cast, and the memory of those times came back to her now--
Dante had faced the assembled students and spoken, his thin reedy voice somehow carrying to the far corners of the cavernous Hallow without benefit of magicka.
"My Master is far better than any training you could receive from me or the other masters. Second to the Master is experience. What you're about to witness are fighting abilities handed down by the experience of generations of elves."
The demonstration had begun... Three members of the warrior-clan stepped forward all equally built tall, muscular, and handsome in excellent fighting condition coming forward to attack the diminutive elder.
Master Dante had not been armed aside his wood cane, and had not seemed to move more than a meter or so, allowing them to approach him.
Nevertheless, as the three had come within a meter to lay a finger on him, he jumped with a mid-air kick. His walking stick twirled in the air with delicate grace and ease as he made swift work of the three. The lesson had struck powerfully home: Experience was infinitely better than technique and Daaubond's experiences at Hilltop, experiences of how cruel Rapha Raiders could be and experiences of working under Raven and Val came rushing back to her--
Now Daaubond let herself sink into her experiences, relinquishing all hold on her past, letting the knowledge take over as she had when faced anything else.
Countless times, she had been told to simply relax, to release her grip on the past. Yet in that moment, a profound, unrelenting realization gripped her heart. In that instant, she came to understand the vital importance of her past. It was the catalyst for her very being, shaping and molding her into the person she was. She reached a deeper place within herself. Quick as she could, she embraced and wielded her past as a weapon. The servant girl leapt and brought her knee down onto a Rapha's shoulder. She felt her senses heighten into razor-like focus, and every toned feature of her physique was on display as another Raider came into view. With a technique Vaulurou had taught her, she grabbed a downhaul and utilized her legs to propel herself forward, the rope cutting into her calloused palms. She was one with the air, running against its currents. The burn of exertion only fueled her determination to overcome the obstacles in her way.
The sea mist kissed her face, her bootheels clashing against a Rapha. With a graceful twirl, she swung like a windmill around the twining rope until she lay to her side on the deck.
His eyes widened in shock, shaking his head in bewilderment before she winked at him and rose to her feet. All this, in less than a split second.
With a fierce kick, she sent the giant stumbling backward, his massive form crashing into the railing and tearing it apart. The sound of wood splintering and waves crashing echoed through the docks as he plummeted below, demolishing the quayside into timbers and destroying a barrel repository below. Looking over the starboard side, she saw the Rapha lay sprawled amongst broken planks and crates, his eyes closed, and limbs bent at awkward angles. The scent of salty sea air mixed with the musty smell of wood and the metallic tang of blood as Daaubond thus moved to stand with her fellow girls.
The crew pulled the gangway, slamming it onto the deck with such force that it shook beneath their feet. The Rapha would not be able to reach them from that point at least, which would give them an advantage. The adrenaline pumped through their bodies, voices shouting in unison, their movements fluid and synchronized like a team of miners. A Raider shot a beam from his hand toward Vaulurou, its golden glow shining in the chaos of sword and power.
With an almost animalistic grace, Vaulurou contorted her body into a knee bridge position. Her muscles strained and flexed, but she maintained balance on her hands and feet with ease, leaving some breathless. She was a blur of speed and agility, moving with fluidity and precision. In one fluid motion, she hoisted her lithe figure up onto one hand and reached, grabbing onto the nearby mast, utilizing its support to transition into an advanced agata with ease. A move she had perfected from countless performances in the grand governor's hall in Alchov.
As she swung her legs over the wooden pole, her tight clothing hugged every curve. The projected magicka narrowly missed her. Just one inch off and the powerful Rapha beam would have torn her asunder. Finally, with a quick release of the mast, Vaulurou assumed an alber or "fool's" guard, fists held low at her sides with bent elbows showcasing her toned arms.
She focused with intent on her opponent. A dangerous fire both captivating and frightening burned bright in her eyes. She was more than just a skilled dancer or servant girl - she was a huntress who knew exactly how to work her stunning beauty to distract and fight her opponents.
"Daaubond! Girls! Ready yourselves!" Athens swung his sword frantically at the Rapha, but the girls had already scrambled in ready formation. "Protect the governess at all cost!" He slashed at another Rapha, cutting his six-fingered hand at the wrist. The giant lumbered back in pain, grasping at his spurting stump. "Get Governess Raven below decks, lads!"
Raven turned to Athens, shaking her head. "No, captain. Let me stay and fight." She gave a tense stare at the man who only returned that stare back. "You are my responsibility as is my ship and her crew until Governor Veileen returns or I die."
As the dark truth settled in, Raven remembered when she and Val had sworn him into service, binding him with a solemn duty to protect either of them at any cost. Athens would put his blood, heart, and life on the line if need be.
Though every fiber of her being longed to remain and fight alongside Captain Athens and their fellow combatants, Raven begrudgingly accepted his orders, giving a brief bow as a pair of crewmen led her below decks, shielding her from any mayhem that may befall.
With purposeful strides, her protectors in tow, she glided down the steps Through the crew's space. Any crewmate in her path, made way quick, creating a walkway for their governess. As she and those who accompanied her made their way towards the lower main capstan, one brave crewmate spoke up. "You'll be safe here, Governess." The crewmate gave a polite nod.
"I do hope so." She replied, her eyes fixed on a small porthole of aged glass. She could see the sea rise and fall, listening to Athens and the crew locked in fierce combat with the Raiders. She could hear the sounds of clashing swords and saw the Rapha's brilliant light reflecting off the sea foam. "I truly hope so."
****
Their deliberations were a delicate dance of expressions, the subtle movements conveying tales of contemplation, apprehension, and the immeasurable calculus of risk.
Low and the rest stepped back, allowing them to defer. Arba bowed his head and waited. Eddipus knew the seed of urgency had been planted; now, it was up to the soil of the elders' wisdom to help make it grow.
Yet, memories of Rapha enslavement haunted the present. It couldn't be ignored. Unspoken tension, louder than any words said of past atrocities, could not be ignored. Val and the others could feel it thickening around them, an awkward discomfort stemming from the unknown.
"Times long past," Bergelmir's voice rumbled, breaking the silence like a boulder tumbling down a mountain, "spoke to us with voices of chains and servitude. We have not forgotten our ancestor's bondage in the lands of Fonde SSique, nor the feel of knives against our palms."
Cormoran, his face a map of deep lines etched by eons, lifted a hand the size of an anvil. The palm of his hand bore a gruesome mark, a deep groove tracing from the middle finger of his six-fingered hand all the way down to his wrist. The scar spoke volumes about his opinion on the situation. "Despite our diligent training and evolutionary advancements. Despite gaining back power in our palms through tenuous healing, the scars of our past remain. The very land you would have us go still bears those stains. Still bears our blood upon it. Are we willing to risk the return of the iron daggers piercing our polyps, all for the sake of these... interlopers' struggles?"
Val's face turned a deep shade of red, but he knew that remaining calm and collected was the wisest choice. He held his tongue and allowed the elders to speak their piece.
"Yet," Hrungnir added, the jewel-like depth of his eyes reflecting a well of wisdom, "Inaction is a shackle of its own making. To stand idle might be to invite the very chains we dread."
Val now felt the weight of their words settle upon his shoulders. He exhaled, his stomach like that of a churning sea against rocky cliffs—wondering, questioning if they were coming to their side, finally seeing the truth for what it was. War was coming.
Ahdod's massive fingers traced the grain of the oak table before her, as though reading a text only visible to their kind. "True, Hrungnir. But scars written in flesh and spirit do not fade with time's passage. Our people forgive, they do not forget, and our scars are reminders... Warnings."
"Warnings," Manak intoned. "That can guide us toward brighter destinies or ensnare us in a Spiderling web of our own fear."
"Agreed," murmured Ahdod, her voice a whisper that nevertheless still carried the force of thunder. She looked at her wrist, focusing on a white crisscross-like chain imprint. It was a scar from eons past reminding her of what was once around it. "We are architects with the gift of free will." She looked up, a tear shown in one of her dark eyes. "But so are they."
"Mistress Ahdod, you cannot blame them for the acts of their leaders or ancient ancestors!" Cormoran declared. "In this case as in all, we must remain ever unbiased and ever clear in our wisdom. Our past is important but lead us not to forget what happens when you act out of blind, stupefying hate. So declareth the Master."
All five in unison repeated. "So declareth the Master."
Eddipus watched as the elders' internal struggle played out on their faces and words, each expression and dialogue a battle where memories clashed with wisdom and knowledge. Their hands moved, sketching invisible sigils in the air and casting votes in an ancient ledger of morals.
"Let us then weigh this threat," Cormoran's words fell hard.
"Therein lies the essence of our quandary. To act or not, each carries its shadow of risk and potential regret. So we must have time to deliberate more on this subject." Ahdod spoke.
"Then let us cast our gazes inward," Manak suggested, "into the fathomless depths of our own experiences, so that memory and the Master may light and enlighten our decision."
The elders retreated into the depths of their minds, seeking solace in the sanctuaries within. The chamber fell silent, save for the soft murmurs and whispers of their thoughts. Eddipus strained to listen, but could not decipher their cryptic meanderings and it filled him with fear.
****
Madness! 'How could I be so naive?' Raven lamented. The dangers of facing a band of bloodthirsty Rapha Raiders should have been etched in her memory, yet here she was, fearless and wanting to fight. Only with the aid of Athen's courageous crew and Raven's skillful servants did they stand a chance against the monstrous creatures. But on her own, she was doomed to a watery grave.
Her death would surely serve no purpose. That was not what troubled Raven most. No, it was the thought of her demise driving Val back into the darkness. She couldn't bear the thought of losing him to his inner demons once more even after her passing.
After a fashion, she knew she could fight - had proven it before - but now all that mattered was surviving and reuniting with her husband. Somehow, somehow, she would make it through this.
Above Raven, past the creaking capstan, up the main staircase, reaching the skylight. On the open deck in the center of the gally between the figurehead-and-aft, clashing of Rapha and Alchovian filled the atmosphere.
Isaak unsheathed his cutlass, feeling the texture of metal against leather through his belted regal tunic. The Rapha Raiders fell one by one by his hand as he shouted for Captain Athens to steer them away from the quayside.
The captain failed to respond and Isaak turned in horror...
The grisly scene behind him left behind by a powered-up hand beam. The result had been a gaping hole in Athens' gullet, steam rising from the wound and filling the ozone with the sickening stench of burnt flesh.
"THE CAPTAIN'S DEAD!" Isaak bellowed, his voice filled with rage. With no time to mourn, Isaak pressed onward. "NO SURRENDER!" Isaak roared, rallying what living crewmates were left. "FORM RANKS! DO NOT SURRENDER!" His fierce battle cry echoed across the deck. They were ready to face whatever came next.
He dodged Rapha beams left and right. Slashing his sword in a brilliant display of masculinity and gallantry as the crew formed a line, all brandishing their weapons with great zeal.
As the three women stepped forward from the line, Daaubond, Kalia, and Vaulurou. Kalia assumed a triple bend position. She normally used the form in dancing but now it would be used in a powerful, deadly defensive display.
Janaleva Sajana (Deadly Grace), Isaak had called her. She bore the pin and the name her lover gave her proudly. It hadn't mattered to the seasoned sailor, for they had seen her dance before and knew Kalia could handle herself. With a confident smirk, she readied her body, bending in one direction at the knees, the other direction at the hips, and then finally at the shoulders and neck. She was ready to face the challenge. Seeing her love enraged at Athen's demise, running at the giant Rapha intruders only fueled her fire more.
Kalia twirled midair, her entire body cascading in a graceful arc, enticing the Raiders to attack her first.
One lunged forward with his palm extended, aiming for her heart.
Yet, she slipped beneath his hulking form and ended up behind him. The Rapha whirled around, only to be met with a brutal strike from behind, he looked down to see a blade protruding from his stomach. A cold voice taunted. "For Athens!" then darkness consumed him before he fell forward onto the deck, Isaak standing in his place.
Kalia could hardly tear her eyes away from Isaak's chiseled features, the mere sight of him in brutal heroism only adding to the fire burning within her. She silently swore that after the fight was won, she would have him.
Yet, the unforgiving conflict wrenched her from Isaak's gaze, forcing her to focus on the foe - using the sway of her hips and dancing between wheel, mizzenmast, and quarterdeck, she bewildered Rapha and drew them in with her graceful choreography. All the while, she had been distracting the enemy while her companions dealt the fatal blow.
At that moment, Kalia and Isaak were a pair of fierce, primal beings.
She kicked and danced her way through the battle, every once in a while, stealing a quick kiss or rub of the thigh against Isaak, then returning to distract or knee another Rapha as he slaughtered any Raider in his path.
He was her valiant hero, all she needed. Why would she allow it all to end? No, not like this, not here and now.
A storm of Rapha blasts shot toward Isaak, but he dodged and weaved with an instinctive agility. He countered with a flurry of strikes. This was not just any Alchovian, but one skilled in close combat by his father, Val.
With steady hands and a fierce tenacity, he charged towards the Raiders, his blade slicing through their ranks like butter. He knew, with every fiber of his being, that his skill and strength would lead them all to victory. He silently swore to himself that he would emerge triumphant, by the might of his sword alone, and be with Kalia in the end. He charged into the fray like an enraged beast with a purpose.
Isaak would see it all through no matter what the cost...
****
Val's hand trembled as his scared face focused on a grotesque tapestry depicting Galith and his cruel band of Rapha Raiders. The words at the bottom read 'WANTED'. 'A little late.' Val thought. 'I already took care of him.'.
"They came with the tides," Val began, his voice a low growl of suppressed fury and pain. "The Raiders...they plundered and defiled Seaside Alchov, wielding their terrible fire and steel with merciless intent."
Eddipus watched from the sidelines, his young heart heavy with the knowledge of his friend's suffering. Val placed his hand on the rough woven fabric.
"Men, women, children..." Val continued, his gaze distant as though peering into the past, "None were spared from their conquest. My home, a store reduced to ash, lives extinguished like candles in chaos. It took years to rebuild."
One of the elders, Bergelmir, leaned forward on his throne. "How did you escape their brutality, Governor Val?"
"Escape?" Val scoffed, turning to the elders. "There was no escape. I was banished and left to defend myself. Thanks to the wisdom of my father, Mercer I knew enough about the bow and arrow." He paused. "—my face was a canvas for one of them, painted by a violent hand. It was not mercy that stayed them, but the belief that I was broken beyond repair. They were foolish to think so."
"Yet here you stand before us," Hrungnir observed, his voice a deep rumble. "A testament to resilience."
"Resilience," echoed Val, touching the ridges of his scar tissue,
"or perhaps just a reminder of the savagery. As your scars serve as reminders of yours."
"Governor Val," Ahdod interjected, her tone laced with sorrow, "your tale is one of tragedy, indeed. But we must weigh your canvas against a broader one. I too was brutalized at a young age. I was taken from my family when we traveled to Fonde SSique and they were killed by your kind. I was tied, brutalized, and used. The chains of enslavement that once clutched our wrists--"
"Were bound as tight as your scars," finished Manak, completing the thought.
"Your scars are a map of survival," Cormoran noted. "Our scars too, guide us, cautioning us to tread carefully."
Val locked eyes with each elder, his resolve unyielding. "If caution means allowing tyranny to fester, what good is survival?"
The room fell into a contemplative hush, the weight of decision pressing down upon the ancient shoulders of the elders.
"Your words," Manak said after a time, "will rest heavily upon our hearts and upon our deliberations. We will convene at the rising of the moon to render our decision."
"Until then," Bergelmir concluded, "the fate of Fonde SSique remains uncertain."
With a heavy sense of finality, the elders rose from their thrones. They departed in silence, leaving Eddipus, Val, Low, and Arba amidst the emptiness of the chamber.
As the last of the elders disappeared from view, Val met Eddipus's gaze,
A tense exchange, heavy with the weight of uncertain fate, as they awaited the ascension of the next moon.
****
The day had become dusk and with Rapha guards approaching, the fight became fiercer than ever. With a final surge of energy, Isaak launched himself at a Rapha with all his might.
The Raider countered with an explosion of magical energy, sending a golden beam of power flying towards him.
Isaak's blade whirled through the air with deadly precision as he deftly avoided each strike.
It was time to put an end to the chaos.
A call echoed up from the guards below. "WHAT'S GOING ON UP THERE!"
Isaak remained focused on the task at hand. With a fury, he leaped again, coming down onto a Rapha and shearing his blade through the giant's chest. Picking his next target, he pulled the cutlass from the body and pushed on.
Flames leapt hungrily from the dock, consuming any remnants of order and leaving chaos in its wake. The water's edge was littered with broken planks and scattered debris. Blood painted a gory red over the sea foam. "Summon the Elders immediately!" A lone Rapha citizen commanded. The guards sprang into action, scrambling to board the ship while the rest headed towards the council chambers...
****
A suffocating, thick cloud of anxiety cloaked Eddipus, Val, and Low... They waited in tense silence.
"The Elders will arrive shortly," Arba murmured, his gaze fixed on the doors at the end of the chamber. "Their decision will be swift."
Eddipus gave a single, knowing nod as his intuition flared. Something was amiss. He turned to Val; "I feel it too..." the Governor spoke in a hushed tone. Their conversation was cut short. The council chamber doors burst open and a group of Rapha guards flooded in.
"Where are the elders?" One of them boomed, his voice a deep timbre,
echoing through the hall and commanding attention, "Something has occurred seaside," He bellowed.
Val's heart sank as he murmured, "The gally," Worry welling up in his eyes as the elders emerged from their chambers. Cormoran wasted no time. "Take us to the dock immediately," he commanded, his tone suffered no argument.
The moon began its rise outside the towering windows as they made their descent. Their case had been laid bare, yet any further action would have to be delayed and set aside for the time being.
Val began to sweat, turning with the others out an open archway into the moonlight. Eddipus' heart thrummed with the beats of the guard's footfalls.
Low's eyes widened, "Those flames," he said, gasping as he beheld the raging inferno near the docks.
Without hesitation, they ran with a shared purpose, edging through the dusk of Gath. They came upon the edge of the city. Ash settled upon every surface, a shroud of smoke draping itself across the entire island.
Amidst the chaos and destruction, the anguished cries of Rapha echoed through the embers and strangling smolder, the blaze climbing higher and higher, licking the sea-faring gally. In the water, mysterious dead Rapha floated about, the sound of clatter and power beams encompassed the atmosphere. The elders let out a collective gasp, their voices rising in unison as they chanted the ancient Rapha words.
Their tongues twisted and throats opened as they pronounced the sacred incantations, their voices echoing over the swell of ocean spray and conflict.
Then, just as easily as the Master could move mountains, the flames quelled. The fiery inferno turned to ash, the ash to smoke, and the smoke to wind, leaving nothing but a blackened ship and an angry tussle.
Up above deck, midship amidst the chaos and fray,
Isaak's cutlass whirled and sliced through the air, aiming for a Raider's chest with deadly precision. Kalia, standing firm with unwavering skill, stood her ground with unwavering technique.
Isaak's blade met a lurching Rapha, clashing with a resounding slash to his face. Just like that, he was dead. Isaak retrieved his sword from the body, as easily as plucking a blade from the flesh of an enlarged melon.
With each stroke and thrust of his sword, he exuded raw skill. Kalia's eyes became transfixed on his sculpted physique. Their movements were fluid and intense, igniting a fire within her that burned as bright as the flames surrounding the quayside. The thrill of the fight and the love that bonded them was like the raging fire that surrounded the ship.
With every calculated swing and swift spin, Daaubond's body moved in perfect harmony with Vaalurou's, calculated and precise. The sweat glistened on their skin. The wind brushed across Vaalurou,
caressing and blowing the streak of her white hair back, accentuating her fierce beauty. She swiftly spun and swung her legs in a deadly display of attacks. Their instincts guided them, moving them together like two halves of one whole.
Raven caught a glimpse of him through the porthole, standing amid a sea of debris. She recognized Val immediately, flanked by a group of ancient-looking Rapha. Low and Eddipus accompanied him along with their guide, Arba. Her heart raced with excitement at the sight of her love. The older Rapha gathered and began to chant in a muffled tone she couldn't make out.
Squinting her blue eyes, she saw through the glass and crackling flames. Sure enough, it was Val. However, the inferno managed to calm somehow, and the smolder gracefully blew away as a flame blown from a candle. As she placed a hopeful hand on the glass, she caught a glimpse of Val's frightened face. She had never seen him that afraid before. Sooner than she could even catch her breath, the group approached the gally, stern emotion filled the eyes of the elder giants, hands crackling with unbridled power.
Raven raced past her protectors without a second thought, pulling her dagger. They tried to reach for her, but it was too late, she ran up into pandemonium, swinging at a Rapha and bringing him down at the knee. Another came and she ducked low, reaching her blade up to strike at his groin. Another came, raising his hand to shoot but before he could blast her, she leaped and slashed at his polyp, causing him to bleed profusely and scream in agony. As she stepped further out onto the deck, she watched the aged Rapha seemingly float midair up onto the port side and walk through the battle unscathed. Their eyes were intense. But she was relentless, nothing could stand in her way as she closed the gap between her and her husband.
Her sharp gaze followed his swift movements, the twin onyx rondels glinting dangerously against the raging flames. Val scaled the beak and figurehead of the ship, muscles tense. He had always been quick on his feet, and he proved it once again as he flipped up onto the deck and rolled into a defensive stance. Once before, he had faltered when faced with a perilous leap from an archer's tower. But now, his senses honed to perfection and his abilities sharpened better than before, he stood ready without doubt or hesitation.
With a sizzle of power, the blasts erupted from the aged Rapha hands, unleashing a shower of sparks that struck down Raider after Raider.
Val's blades danced through their ranks, cutting them down.
Daaubond let out a sigh of relief at the sight of her governor.
He swung his blades with practiced precision, taking out another Raider.
A beam shot out from one of the Raiders, heading for Raven however, she sidestepped and countered with her own blade aimed straight for the Rapha's knee. She then drove the weapon forward, lashing out with a flurry of blows that left her breathless. The Rapha was more than injured. With a swift leap, she jumped from the giant's corps and honed her concentration on defending and running to Val at any cost.
Thoughts were a hindrance, a barrier to true instincts. If you overthink or allow anger to sway you in a fight, it could very well control you. She did not suffer from such distractions and could see Val's rage flare as he beheld the lifeless form of Captain Athens lifeless body. If she tried to get to him, there was no guarantee that he would recognize her. He'd gone into his berzerker rage.
The dilemma echoed in her mind. Nobody could stop him, only him as the world around Val echoed, his senses on fire.
He searched for any movement. He was enraged and the heat rose in him like a pyre without him realizing it. He screamed like a beast and Isaak, seeing his father desperately grabbed onto his arm.
He attempted to quell the seething rage within him, but it was akin to taming a frenzied beast. "It's me, father?"
Isaak's grip loosened as he let go and leapt in time, Val nearly slashing him. "FATHER PLEASE!" his mind raced and in that brief moment, his father's blade sliced through the air once again, slashing across his chest.
Kalia turned, her heart clenched as she took in the unthinkable. Her eyes widened in horror, and she let out a blood-curdling scream. "NO!"
Val, her governor, was attacking her beloved. She didn't understand why, but she didn't need to. All she knew was Val had slashed him. She started to run when she felt a hand grab her wrist. But as she tried to run towards them, a hand grabbed hold of her wrist. She whirled around, ready to fight off the Rapha that had gripped her, and realized the hand was the size of a young boy's. "Eddipus! Stop!" She shouted, "I must go to him."
Eddipus looked at her with pained eyes and shook his head. "You can't stop him," he said. Raven came into view, her expression grave. "None of us can."
Kalia looked at Raven, puzzled. "Why? He's your husband and that's your son!"
Raven's emotions burned within her, threatening to consume her. She couldn't bear the truth, and she collapsed to the warn deck in tears. The weight of both her loves fighting was suffocating, drowning out all other thoughts. "I KNOW!" she wailed.
"He's gone berzerker." Eddipus finished.
Kalia had heard the word before, whispered by the elvish peoples. It had been her first time witnessing it and Her heart sank as she realized there truthfully was nothing she could do. Eddipus watched on, fearful yet hopeful of the outcome.
Val's unwavering voice cut through the chaos, sharp as his blade. "Your sword, not your words!"
"Father, It's me-"
Isaak was stunned into silence for a moment, his mind racing to comprehend Val's outburst.
As he turned to flee, a wave of worry and fear swelled over him. He couldn't bring himself to raise a weapon against his own father, even as Val's rage seemed to consume him. It became ever clearer that he was in the throws of berzerker madness.
Low and Arba ascended the rope ladder to the deck. As they reached the top, Arba's mind was assaulted with a sense of bewilderment. Mirroring the Rapha's confused view, the Glenoid stood open-eyed. For he had witnessed Val's prowess in battle before, but this display left him awestruck.
Vaalurou and Daaubond were frozen in terror. Their bodies, experiences, and pasts seemed all for not. Trained to perfection and yet, rendered useless as they gazed at the shocking scene unfolding before them. Every inch of their being told them to stop Val. Their minds were consumed with the thought 'It can't be the Governor.'
He would never have even struck Isaak let alone try to kill him. Unable to control the situation, Daaubond glanced at Raven and couldn't fathom why their governess hadn't lifted a finger to stop the lunacy, her back turned as she cried.
"Stop!" An elder Rapha commanded. "ENOUGH!" It was Cormoran, his face a map of deep anger and stern countenance. He lifted a hand sparking with bright energy. "Our realm now bears blood. Now bears violence from outsiders. Shall we risk the return of the iron daggers piercing our polyps now? Look what they've brought... violent stupidity."
Val's face went beat red. He turned and pointed a rondel at Cormoran. "Get off of my ship," he growled, his voice taking on a menacing tone, "or I'll turn you into fish bait."
Cormoran cocked his head and regarded Val for a moment before snatching the dagger from his grasp. "Listen to us," he said as he threw the weapon, embedding it into the deck. "You Fonde had your chance. You know this."
"Yes," Hrungnir added, disappointment intensifying in his eyes. "Inaction is a shackle of its own making, yet the action you've taken reminds us of the very chains we dread."
Val could feel the crushing burden of their words pressing down on him as his rage calmed and the berzerker within him rested. He exhaled; a swirling storm of emotions raged in his gut. He couldn't help but wonder. 'Have I truly messed this up for all of us?' The inevitable thought loomed closer with each passing moment.
Ahdod's massive fingers traced the grain of the oak railing before her, as though feeling the past, as if feeling Fonde itself. It was only visible to her. It was her pain. "As I've said, Hrungnir. Scars written in flesh and spirit do not fade with time's passage. These Fonde fought on our soil. As I've said. Our scars are warnings. This battle was a sign. We shouldn't rush to join their cause when they'll even fight their own."
"A sign, yes." Manak intoned, leaning to touch one of the fallen Raiders. He peered into his lifeless eyes. "That can guide us toward helping them, Mistress Ahdod."
"Helping them," she yelled, her voice no longer a whisper that carried across the battle-torn gally. She looked to Manak. It was clear they didn't see eye to eye. "We have borne witness time and time again to their hostility! A hostility this governor even turned upon his own people." She gritted her teeth, tears of disgust shown in her dark eyes. "YOU TELL ME YOU SIDE WITH THEM!"
"Mistress Ahdod! Calm yourself. We are the paragon of wisdom and patience for our people!" Cormoran declared. "In this case as in all, we must remain ever calm and clear in our wisdom. Listen to what Lord Manak has to say before lashing out."
Manak exhaled, looking perplexed. "I've never seen these Rapha." He paused. "Except on the tapestry in the council chambers." Raven watched as the giants gathered around, studying the dead Rapha scattered about. "The fabric marked wanted. If I am correct, these are Raiders loyal to Galith."
Val looked on in disbelief. "But I thought I had killed Galith."
"Indeed," Manak replied.
"Let us then weigh this threat," Cormoran's words fell hard as he pointed at a Rapha. "These are Raiders." he confirmed.
"Therein lies the essence of our quandary. The tapestry is the essence, it carries on its back a shadow of the past when others broke from our tribe and lived as giants in the mountains of Fonde SSique; and also after that, when the sons of those Raiders found women to propagate with. Those women bore children and the mightiest was the tyrant Galath whose tales of villainous deeds became renowned. One of the last surviving leaders of our kind at that time was Og. He had disappeared while on a hunt for the Raiders, leaving a gaping void amongst our elders," Cormoran's deep voice spoke with a heavy sigh. "Despite his unorthodox ways, Og possessed a wisdom that guided us. When your gallant kind invaded Golphilim, it never sat right with him and thus His memory continues to shape our decisions even after centuries."
Val had remembered Og, their paths crossing so long ago at Tannik. The task he had given him was still etched into his memory. As Manak and the other elders discussed Og in detail, Val couldn't help but recall it all. Giving a single arrow to him and delivering the Rapha to Hilltop, sealing his fate. It was a feat that would ultimately kill Og. Val's recollection of that particular memory gave him a quiver. It was a disturbing part of his past, one that he preferred to keep locked away in the darkest corners of his mind. He felt it wise not to speak of it.
Raven reached Val's side and stowed her blade. She embraced him, planting a swift kiss on his lips, to which he reciprocated her affections. "Are you alright?"
"I am fine," Raven replied.
"I was afraid I had lost you."
His attention turned back to the elders.
Bergelmir shifted his gaze to his fellows. His eyes, seething with contemplation, ignited with a hidden decision. Was it fear that clenched his jaw, or rage? It was impossible to tell at that moment.
Cormoran's deep baritone stretched across the ship, a low rumble that echoed from stern to figurehead. "We have seen much, and what has happened here is grave indeed." His massive six-fingered hand steepled against his five-fingered one. The oversized appendages gave him an imposing presence as always, causing those around him to shrink in awe.
Hrungnir's words struck like bolts of lightning, his fiery gaze locked onto those from Fonde SSique with a fierce intensity. "Because of this little skirmish, we must consider the consequences even more." The faces of the other elders were a symphony of unspoken words, their expressions shifting and gesturing. It was clear that they had been shaken, and they were not hesitant to convey their thoughts. In this moment, their actions spoke louder than any words. Val and the others were confident that the elders would make their decision soon. A resolute no. An oppressive tension permeated the area, as they anxiously awaited the verdict. It was imperative that they hear it, no matter how they felt.
Ahdod, no longer reserved nor wary, glared at Val. "You attacked Cormoran. Why?"
Val shook, not knowing the act he had committed. "I don't know," he commented. "I was--"
Raven's hand held onto Val's arm, comforting him. "He was berzerker."
The elders continued and Manak stood with formidable presence. He looked at Val with a hint of suspicion in his eyes. "You are a careless people." he declared; his voice laced with disdain. Val could feel his stomach churn at the accusation.
"We came to you," Raven spoke up in defense, stepping closer to Val. "We were attacked by your kind as they had before in Alchov!"
Val could feel Raven bristling at Manak's words, defensive instincts taking control. He attempted to soothe her, placing a gentle hand on her tense shoulder. Yet like his berzker rage, she could not be tamed once her fury was unleashed. With a fierce tenacity, she broke free from Val's grasp and strode forward, her voice laced with faultless outrage. "Behold the scars left by Rapha upon my husband, inflicted on him as a mere child! Remember that it was our brave Alchovian people who came to you for aid, only to be met with senseless aggression!"
"What do you suggest we do then?" Bergelmir asked, addressing Raven directly.
The beautiful Alchov woman didn't hesitate to speak her mind. "JOIN US," she stated firmly. "This incident should show you that we're serious about taking up arms."
Arba stepped forward, arms outstretched to the elders, showing that he too bore scars and marks. "I was enslaved as a child. I was marred by people in Fonde SSique. But these are not them. They're not asking to enslave us again. They're merely asking for protection and an allegiance with our own," he began. "They're asking us to stand with them, not to just protect themselves, but all of Fonde and beyond, and by the Master, we must help them."
Ahdod refused to budge, shaking her head. "We've seen too much danger in this."
"Then you'll see even more!" Raven spat back, anger boiling within her.
"...And at what cost, Arba?" Manak questioned. "We'd have wars on two fronts. It'll only lead to our near extinction as it had long ago."
Hrungnir's weathered hand reached for his long beard, fingers tangling in its length. "The risk is too great. We have thwarted disaster in the past. Will we a third time?"
Val's stomach clenched. He could feel his hands shaking at their ruling. Low sighed, his lips tugging into a frown. His hand rested on Val's shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.
The wind picked up, carrying with it a strange chill. Val's rage boiled over, pushing against Low with all his might. "LET ME GO!" he screamed, but the glenoid held him back.
"YOU DARE ATTACK US ONLY TO TURN AND CALL THE VICTUMS CARELESS PEOPLE!!!" This time Val wasn't berzerker, he didn't have to be.
Raven turned to Val, calmness in her features. "We shall find those who would aid us, but we need to move on."
Finally, Val nodded, understanding what she meant. His eyes locked onto hers, showing nothing but love. She may have been brave and willful, but her anger wasn't the answer. It would only worsen the situation further and so would his.
Eddipus looked at him. "Remember what I had always told you on our journeys, Val." he placed a hand on his friend's arm. "A fool is quick to anger, yet righteous anger is well met."
Val turned and looked down at Eddipus, giving a slight smile. His heart was warmed, by being around friends and hearing their encouragement. It was a calm and soothing balm.
With a restful voice, Arba addressed Val and the group. "I will remain here," he declared, "and try to convince the Rapha and elders to join your fight. It is imperative that you press on ahead."
The elders turned along with Arba and the remaining Rapha, leaving Val, Raven, Low, Vaalurou, Daaubond, Kalia, and the rest as they prepared to sail towards the moon-lit horizon alone. Their battered ship creaked as it left Gath's wrecked port, heading towards uncertainty.
Val stood at the helm, his hands firmly grasping the wheel that steered them toward Silent Harbor. He watched the moonlight dance across the darkened sea below. Isaak came. "Father, I can take position if you like. That way you can rest with the others."
Val smiled. "Why don't you take the gally itself, my son?"
Isaak beamed. "Are you sure?"
"Athens would have wanted that." he patted his shoulder hard and stepped away to rest.
"Just beyond the next cape," Isaak whispered to himself, his voice joyous yet all too serious. "...and straight on till sunrise."
The ship sailed onwards, leaving behind Gath, passing Golphilim and away from the elders. Away from their harsh rulings and their judgmental glares.
The stars twinkled above them, lighting their way. "What now?" Kalia asked, stepping sweetly to Isaak's side.
"We start over," he said simply, exhaling the deep, salty air. Kalia leaned in, her lips grazing Isaak's bicep. She longed to melt into his embrace on the spot. Her hands roamed over his chiseled abdomen as he gripped the handle on the captain's wheel. She felt him flex under her touch, her fingers tracing every defined muscle, as her body pressed against his side. He felt warm to the touch against the bitter chill of the night air. When they fought before, she had been stirred by Isaak's bravery but could not act on her urges.
"You've plotted the course, yes?" Kalia asked.
Isaak turned to her, his hand still gripping the wheel. "Yes."
She bit down on her lip, caressing his steering hand before taking it in hers. "Then lash the helm."
He secured the ship's wheel as a storm brewed on the horizon. The lightning only added to the intense atmosphere of the night.
Her fingers intertwined with his as she guided him away from the helm to a darkened corner of the ship where they could be alone, out of sight, and out of earshot. As they stepped into the shadows of dancing knotted ropes and sailcloth, Kalia's hands lingered on Isaak's arms while her curves brushed against him.
She gave him another kiss, surrendering to their love amidst a sea of uncertainty. Isaak felt that in that moment, as the gally edged ever closer toward Silent Harbor, despite whatever terrible had happened, no matter what trials lay ahead, with her in his arms, he was calmer than he had ever been in a long time...