Within the undercarriage, Kizwolima sat opposite a trio of servants, two of whom were true servants, the last rely taking the disguise. The servants had been inford by the Prince to watch over the girl well, and to take care of her needs, with the promise of a chest of silver, and a punishnt of the deaths of their families.
‘What is so special about this country bumpkin?’ the servant thought, thinking back to how injured the Prince was. Whoever it was that had requested for this was the kind of figure who could dare to oppose one of Emperor Moto’s descendants.
‘Did the Prince have trouble with a dragon?’ the servant, who was actually a bodyguard, thought.
anwhile, in the overcarriage, the Prince winced.
“Your Grace, are you alright?” the guard fussed, his heart pounding violently in his chest, not because he would be punished for his failure, nor the sha, but because of all the many Princes, rza was considered among the most noble and decent.
“I am fine, Darka,” the Prince replied, while Selia bandaged his singed skin, the Prince glad he had worn his golden armour. Thankfully his arms had taken the brunt of the damage, and they were easy enough to heal, for his arms held the rn toughness, the kind that had allowed them to face against landdwellers for generations, even on their cursed domain.
“Your Grace…” The torrent within Darka’s heart thrashed violently, his entire body tingling with the sensation for vengeance. How could His Majesty step back against such a vile tyrant? It was not as though he was a….
Darka continued to think, recalling the figure. Tall, handso, such large horns, and those scales that denoted he was…
‘By Mokhan…’
“Ser Selia, you will need to watch over the girl,” Prince rza said, since there were few he trusted as much as Ser Selia.
“As you command, Your Grace,” the knight replied, finally wrapping the last of the bandages around his arms.
Prince rza reached into his cloak and brought out the small silver token. He eyed up the lines, so finely crafted, as if by magic. He assud it was sothing Morkarai had crafted for the business before he made his way to his sister’s city.
“Here.”
“Your Grace?”
“You will need to watch her for a few years, so I will grant you this,” the Prince said, sighing slightly.
“This…”
“The business is near the Iyr,” rza inford. “You may exchange it for a fine weapon.”
“…” Selia accepted the token. ‘A fine weapon?’
rza closed his eyes, thinking back to when he first t that fool of a half elf. Though he was a fool, he wasn’t soone who was weak, he had survived this long for one reason or another, and…
rza recalled how he was inford that the half elf disrespected Emperor Shama of all figures.
‘To think you would be travelling with the likes of him…’
A knock at the door took his attention.
“My Lord, a silver hunting serpent,” one of the soldiers said.
“It must have been attracted to my weapon and my armour,” Prince rza replied, filling with annoyance. “How dare it think it can swim before .”
Though it would have been a good hunt, unfortunately for the Prince, he was severely injured. Perhaps in a few days he would be up to the task, but to have such a terrible showing in front of his guards, his soldiers, it filled his mouth with a bitterness, though it was his heart most bitter of all.
“Deal with it as you please,” rza commander.
“As you command.”
From the rest of the undercarriages, dozens of rn soldiers shot outwards like loosened bolts, each swimming towards the large serpent, which could easily swallow one whole.
“Ser Selia, the child may be worried due to the presence of the beast, ease her heart,” the Prince commanded, allowing the woman to slip away, and to provide another set of eyes on the girl, just in case the servants thought to bully her, and he would lose his life.
The days passed by on the sea, Jurot looking at the waves bobbing back and forth, the ship moving swiftly through the water, but that was expected since it was quite the fine ship, with quite a fine Captain.
A figure peeked towards the ship with a spyglass, seeing across the horizon with ease. His ship was black, larger than most ships, and was easily seen across the horizon, but by that ti, it was too late. However, as he stared through the spyglass…
“Captain?” the First Mate asked, a Priest of the Sea.
“Let them go,” the Captain said, a figure tall and wide, a human, though one might have thought he was born with giantsblood. He was figure whose na was known across the seas, he who had killed a great number of great warriors upon his ship, even the rn decided against bothering him.
Bloodbeard.
So called, was he, that his beard was dyed red with blood, so they said.
The rman beside him remained sat down, an equally large figure, though he was short for a rman. He inhaled deeply, exhaling a mont later, remaining silent, for he was not required to sink the ship it seed.
“The dogs are gettin’ antsy.”
“They’ve got a dragon on board,” Bloodbeard replied simply.
‘A dragon?’ the First Mate thought. ‘If we could kill him, we’d earn quite the hoard, but…’
With Bloodbeard and Three Seas Fist, along with his own magical abilities, the Priest was fairly certain they could take on the warriors, especially since the crew were full of great warriors, many Experts, so even Masters.
Except, the Captain hadn’t asked him to think about it, he said to let them go. Which ant the Captain had deed it too dangerous and wasn’t willing to talk about it.
anwhile, Bael turned his attention away from smiling towards the pirate crew who were so far away. He let out an annoyed sigh, since they decided not to co fight. It would have been such a useful experience for his squire. He could always ask the Captain of this ship to turn and chase the pirates, but he didn’t seem the foolish type.
It wasn’t long until the Captain could feel at ease, finally reaching the southern most Florian town, Storm Port. Its docks were almost its own village, with hundreds of ships, thousands of boats, still trailing their way all around. The dockguard noted the ship as it approached, though paused a mont upon seeing the figures atop, for one was certainly a dragon in disguise, with figures of various Aswadian Orders, and more alarmingly, a large number of Iyrn.
Jurot stepped forward, speaking with the figure for a few monts. The figure’s brows raised in alarm upon hearing who was with them, but thankfully, Jurot said they weren’t going to be here long. After promising to stay at an inn of the dockguard’s choice, the group made their way through.
“We should leave swiftly,” Jurot inford, though he was certain they would need to speak with the local noble.
“Okay,” Adam replied.
They approached an inn near the docks, where they found all manner of sailors within, and quite a few warriors who had made a na for themselves, each eyeing up the Iyrn as though they were fine prey. However, upon seeing the old Aswadian man, as well as the Black Lion, the sailors eyed the group more curiously, before noting just how many Iyrn there were.
‘In order to deal with all the trouble,’ Chosen thought, before placing down a handful of gold on a table. “Is anyone willing to draw steel?”
The figures noted the gold coins, easily a dozen or so, and then how young the Iyrman was. A few stood, ready and eager to fight, all almost ready to fight one another, but, unfortunately for them, Tanagek, Kitool, and the other Iyrn stepped forward.
Nirot, on the other hand, sat opposite John, waiting for her al. She eyed up the young father, who no doubt felt uncomfortable coming here, but what else could they do when, unfortunately for them, Adam was certainly not allowed in the capital.
“We will escort you to the business first, then we will travel to Gold Port.”
John held her gaze for a mont. Going to the business from here was quite an undertaking, and would take far too long. “I will part ways here and make my way to Gold Port.”
“…”
“What’s the matter?” Adam asked as Nirot approached.
“John wishes to return back to Gold Port.”
“Yeah, alright. Once we’re in Ever Green, the Silver Fate Squad can escort him to Gold Port. Stay with him for a month and wait for his response. I’ll talk with him about it.”
Nirot blinked.
That was simple.
As the group settled in for the night, a storm rolled into Storm Port. Even as it struck atop an inn several tis, it did not seem to let up.
‘You are so stubborn,’ Bael thought, holding the blade out as lightning continued to strike him, filling the weariness within his soul, but he was more focused on trying to cleanse the blade. If he had managed to do so, it would have made a fine gift for Kizwolima.
PATREON LINK
I already miss her.
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