Amelia Thornheart-Chapter 131: Investigating Void

“I did not think I would see one again so soon,” Menes said.

The safe, now uncloaked and opened—thanks to a careful application of Serena’s yellow aura—displayed its contents. Alongside no small amount of silver, gold, and jewellery, nestled in between a bundle of papers, lay an impossibly dark crystal. It sat there, a void, sucking in light and warmth and in return producing its unwelcome, fog-like darkness. The crystal was smaller than the one Chesterfield had shown, but the tendrils of its unnaturality still tried to worm their way up and out of the safe. 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮

“Amelia, could you—” Serena cut off, her senses picking up on the cloak Amelia was already weaving around the room. The rapid construction of such a large-scale Kanaxai cloak made her disguised hair shimmer and her usual, wonderful, gold shine through. Only Serena noticed, for everyone else was too focused on the darkness within the safe.

“Cold! Cold!” Solara squawked. “Hide! Hide!” The parrot flapped his wings and flew out of the room. He settled on a piece of furniture next door, where he watched from a distance.

Serena asked Menes, “You’ve seen this before?”

“In the desert, my sayyidah,” Menes said. “Years ago. It’s why I take the tales of the Blackhorn so seriously. It’s why I attacked your black ship. I couldn’t risk you being him. I couldn’t risk you boarding. I cannot defeat this thing, my sayyidah. I am not strong enough.” There was a note of something in the Arakian’s voice. A similar note to when he spoke of the opium dens littering Ishaq’s underworld. Perhaps the others didn’t pick up on it, but Serena did. Had Menes lost someone to the darkblades?

“When you spoke that time,” Serena began, “when you brought up the Blackhorn, recounting tales of his appearance…” she trailed off, looking at the Arakian expectantly. He caught her gaze, giving her a subtle nod in return.

“I was testing you,” he said. “To see if you knew about this thing.” He gestured, almost violently, at the black moon crystal.

“I’m not accustomed to being tested on my ship, Sayyid Bastet,” Serena intoned.

“I’m not accustomed to sharing Ishaq’s problems with an outsider, Lord Halen,” he replied.

Serena snorted.

“Could this kill you?” she asked him. “With your aura?”

“Hmm…” Menes rubbed his chin. “I will see…” He reached into the safe, his hand hesitating only once before gripping the crystal. Immediately, the smoke-like tendrils, moving to a wind that wasn’t present, wrapped themselves around his arm. Serena caught Finella and Mel taking a sharp intake of breath, while Daichi watched with wide eyes, still as a statue.

She didn’t need to stretch her senses to see Menes’ red aura collapse immediately. It started at the hand holding the crystal, expanding in a fraction of a second to his arm, then his shoulder. His aura shuddered—a symptom that Menes’ aether convection had collapsed. He dropped the crystal and let out a long breath. Without saying a word, he closed his eyes, focusing deeply within himself.

“The effect lingers for a few seconds,” he said. “Perhaps I am too weak a warrior, but only now can I remake my red.” Menes opened his eyes as aura blossomed once more around his body. “It was difficult to get my aether moving again. It felt slow. I felt… sluggish. Let me try again…” He frowned in concentration and manifested orange aura. This time, he didn’t appear to hold anything back, and flecks of yellow sprang up within his orange, dancing across his body.

He wasn’t quite there, but the Arakian lord was close to breaking into yellow.

Menes picked up the crystal again. His eyes widened first with shock, then narrowed with determination as he pushed his aether further, fighting the corruption working down his body. “This does not feel like a normal attack,” he muttered. “It is unmaking me. I cannot protect my arm, but with all my strength, I can hold it off here. It is stable, as long as I focus, my sayyidah.” Menes nodded, as if to himself. The aura around his torso had weakened, but stayed active.

“Such a small crystal can do so much?” Finella asked, her voice small.

“Yes,” Menes said.

“Yes?” Serena asked. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, this would kill me.” Menes released the crystal once more, lifting his hand and examining it, turning it this way and that. His aura slowly worked its way back up, merely a weak orange. After a few seconds, it started to regain the yellow flecks from before. “I cannot defend against where it touches me. If someone were to swing a knife with it attached, it would be difficult to defend against.”

“I was thinking more of a bullet, Menes,” Serena said. “Fired at you during the finals.”

“If that was in your body,” Mel said, nodding to the simmering smoke, “would it be impossible to use aether?”

“That’s what I’m thinking, Officer Mori,” Serena replied. “Even if a warrior is caught out, as long as they’re conscious and can keep their aura going, bullet wounds are quite survivable. With this…” She eyed the black moon crystal, a sense of dread forming in her mind. “With this, a normal man could kill that which they shouldn’t.”

“Is that what we’re—” Finella began, before glancing at Menes and closing her mouth.

Having seen the mythical black crystal, normally only spoken about in tales spun by drunken sailors, Serena could tell the curiosity of the squad members had piqued. She could see the question on Finella’s mind: Is that what we’re here to find? Serena would clarify later that they were indeed in the South to find something. Something greater and more dangerous than a black moon crystal.

A shard.

“Try it,” Serena said, glancing at each of the room’s occupants. “Try and hold it. It’s a good opportunity for you to understand this crystal, while we have Miss Liona here to cloak the room.”

Finella went first, showing an appropriate amount of leadership. Her aura had only the smallest shimmer of yellow within orange, but it was more refined than the Arakian lord’s. There was a cultural difference between the South's aura and the East's; the warriors in Ishaq put more effort into maximising the amount of aether they could convect, resulting in larger, more intimidating auras. Finella’s orange might not appear as powerful as Menes’, but it was more elegantly layered. If she had to bet, she would be inclined to give Finella the best odds in a fight, although she wasn’t completely sure Menes wasn’t hiding something else.

“Ah, it’s cold,” Finella shuddered as the crystals' ethereal tendrils wrapped around her hand, working their way down the wrist. Black smog burst from the crystal at all times, falling to the table where it twisted and frothed before fading into nothingness. “Wait, it’s not cold,” Finella muttered. “It just feels… wrong. Uncomfortable in a weird way. It’s hard to describe. Ah…”

The Northerner focused as her aura began to struggle. It collapsed throughout her arm, but she was ultimately able to stop it from collapsing her torso. She had stabilised it an inch or two earlier than Menes, something that Serena noted with a touch of pride. “It’s disturbing,” Finella said. “Such a thing… is unnatural.” Without any further words, Finella released the crystal and focused on restoring her aura.

Mel went next. Although she outwardly presented as confident, Serena could see the tremor and hesitation in her hand as she reached into the safe. “You’re anticipating your aura will collapse, aren’t you, Officer Mori?” she asked. After Mel gave a small, grimaced nod, Serena advised, “Don’t. If you think you will fail, then you will fail. Approach the problem as if you will succeed. Don’t let the doubts manifest into reality; that is not our way.”

“Aye aye, Captain,” Mel said. With a self-reassuring nod, she grabbed the crystal. She winced as the alien crystal assailed her defences, declaring to the world its impossibility and defying the natural order of her aura. Mel, although sporting orange, lacked the refinement of Finella’s aura or the magnitude of Menes’. Hers collapsed rapidly. Unable to stabilise it before it disrupted her convection, Mel gasped as her aura was vanquished, dropping the crystal on reflex.

“Uh…” Mel swallowed. She gripped the table with both hands, squeezing till her knuckles whitened. “I feel sick,” she said, before quickly adding, “I’ll be fine. I just…” Mel closed her eyes, and for a dozen seconds, everyone was quiet while she recovered. “It was horrible,” she explained. “It was similar to how I felt when I suffered aether exhaustion. Convecting was impossible. Sluggish.” Mel met Serena’s eyes before asking, “How do we fight against such a thing?”

“I’ll share what was explained to me,” Serena said, remembering what Chesterfield said to her so long ago in Shimashina. “Although it has… unique characteristics, it is still merely a moon crystal. It is brittle. A blade made from it or edged with it will shatter against your sword, even if your weapon's aura fails on contact. It cannot attack steel. They are also rare. Finding one like this in a city is unusual. You won’t get far with one without cloaking it.”

Finella hummed her approval. “This thing tickles my perception like a lighthouse. You would have to keep it cloaked constantly. Any passing Speaker would pick up on this immediately.”

“Which is why I suppose the darkblades like Ishaq so much,” Serena continued. “Before Korvus and I turned up, how many Speakers lived in Ishaq? There’s Speaker Rami, the former commander of Ishaqian forces…” Serena locked eyes with Menes. “You mentioned someone on the council?”

“Speaker Asrar. A warrior.” Menes said. “I do not know his Word. He does not reside in the city. Speaker Rami is also in Haki as we speak. I do not think he is to return until after the finals.”

“Right.” Serena nodded, her mind racing as it formed a theory. “Considering that Korvus, despite his temperament, is unlikely to want to spend the day in the hot and humid chaos of the arena, it sounds like your enemies chose to take advantage of the lack of Speakers. Perhaps they didn’t account for our arrival, thinking that even if I did make it through the Passage, I would leave soon after.” Serena shook her head, feeling her lips curl. “They could never have predicted exactly what trouble we were bringing with us.” Serena glanced at Amelia, then to the rest of the room’s occupants, and they all shared a knowing nod.

“Hey!” Amelia pouted.

“Trouble! Trouble!” Solara chirped from next door. “Ha! Ha!”

“This is good, though,” Serena said. “We’ve disrupted their plans. Now…” She nodded to Daichi. “Officer Ishitani. Let’s see how your wards handle this, shall we?”

“Yes, Captain.” Daichi nodded. He took a deep breath and began cycling his aether. Serena sensed the aetherfield shift as the mage bent it towards himself, pulling in atmospheric aether, cycling it through his body and constructing a formation. Was it her imagination, or did the fog-like darkness of the black crystal shift in Daichi’s direction, as if guided by the aetherfield currents?

Daichi’s aether twisted, and the shimmering grey of Salinas’ spellwork manifested around his body. It was a spell Serena was familiar with. She used to be able to cast it, having learned it from her days when she focused on earth magic. The power of her red had long since eclipsed it, so she’d never bothered to maintain the skill. It was the aptly named first-circle spell Earthward.

But Daichi wasn’t done yet. His aether continued to fold upon itself. With Serena’s Speaker-and-Amelia-enhanced perception and Daichi’s lack of cloaking ability, she could quite clearly see the brilliance of his talent. From frequent reports from Finella, she knew he’d struggled the most in trying to adapt Amelia’s unbelievable ‘The aether just does what I want it to do’ way of casting spells, having been so firmly rooted in the Imperial Stepwise Method for so long. However, now she could see he was making progress, with parts of the spell formation coming together in that instinctive way so characteristic of Amelia’s spellwork.

“Second-Circle,” Daichi intoned, “Salinas’ Stoneguard.”

Evidently, Daichi still struggled to manifest second-circle magic without speaking. Nevertheless, his talent and magic blossomed as another shimmering ward layered onto his body, underneath his Earthguard. It was the distinct advantage that mages had over warriors—the ability to layer wards. Warriors could refine their aura, but they always had one aura. The exception was that talented aether users and chaotic girlfriends could maintain both wards and aura, or, in Serena’s case, the chaotic girlfriend in question could maintain the ward for them.

Daichi closed his eyes and began folding his aether again, but Serena decided to stop him.

“Test it with just those two,” she instructed. “I want to see how it handles against your wards, comparable to orange that they are.”

Daichi nodded. “Yes, Captain.” Despite his normally excellent composure, Serena caught him taking a deeper breath than usual. After a moment to steel his will, Daichi reached in and grabbed the crystal, flinching only slightly as it assaulted his wards.

The first-circle ward—Earthward—fell apart immediately. The underlying Stoneguard offered more resistance, fraying around Daichi’s fingers and then wrists. Like a thin piece of fabric slowly being pulled apart, holes appeared in the ward, travelling up his arm and towards his shoulder. Daichi gritted his teeth and cycled more aether, stabilising and even pushing back the corruption to his elbow.

“It seems to be more effective against our aura,” Serena mused. “I suppose because we convect aether inside our bodies, the sluggishness propagates throughout. Mages such as yourself cycle their aether, bringing in and replacing their reserves with fresh atmospheric aether at a higher rate than warriors. I would examine the aetherfield closer to verify, but I would need to Speak for that.” Exchanging a glance and receiving a knowing nod from Amelia, Serena turned to Daichi and instructed him to try his most powerful ward.

Placing the crystal down, Daichi took a moment to recover. Unlike the speed and efficiency of his earlier magic, third-circle formations were a significant step up from second-circle, offering a barrier that one must cross before they can even think of communing with a Word. As the formation developed, Serena recognised the ward he was aiming for. It was one she’d never reached herself, having gone down the path of the warrior long before she could develop third-circle magic.

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“Third-Circle,” Daichi intoned, his breath misting ever so slightly with aether, “Salinas’ Rampart.”

The spell activated, wrapping him in a ward that most naval artillery would struggle to get through. An illusory shimmer wrapped his body; ethereal scales layered themselves upon his skin, similar to the very physical transformation a Salinas Speaker would typically experience. Although Daichi wasn’t yet a Speaker, seeing him there, as he was, Serena was sure that one day people would be referring to him as an Earthlord.

His talents paid off, as once he took hold of the crystal once more, its unnatural darkness failed to unmake the ward, even around the fingers clutching it. Perhaps there was a little bit of shaking in the contact area, but as he was now, Daichi was resistant to the darkblade weapon.

As he is now, Serena thought. Would his Rampart resist it if it were fired from a rifle?

She prayed he’d never have to find out.

“That’s enough, Officer Ishitani,” she instructed. “I’ll take that, thank you.” She reached out and took the crystal, feeling once more for the first time since Shimashina the bizarre sensation of darkness trying to crawl up her arm. If Serena were by herself, reliant only on her own abilities, then her red aura—enhanced from her Narean communion—would have struggled to resist the crystal. However, Serena wasn’t alone. She was currently layered in numerous Amelia-invoked and Amelia-maintained wards, some of which Amelia jokingly referred to as in the category of ‘In case a mountain falls on you’.

“With only red, my sayyidah?” Menes asked, letting out a slow whistle.

“I have a few tricks, Menes,” she replied with a smile. The Arakian lord, not yet capable of yellow aura, nor familiar with Amelia’s aether, likely couldn’t detect the cloaked wards upon her. If it were Amelia from before the academy, he would have quickly figured it out. But Amelia’s skill had grown greatly in the last few months. Her girlfriend had managed to hide the aetherflow that supplied Serena’s wards in the Shimmer, hidden from all but the most perceptive of aether users.

Katalin was able to cut through it, Serena thought. Well, that wasn’t surprising, given that she was, well… Ah! Nevermind! She cut her mind off, wrestling with her own thoughts, refusing to go down that path and dig up that particular memory.

“May I?” Amelia’s voice was a welcome distraction.

“Be careful.”

“Of course.” Amelia took the crystal, not reacting with anything other than curiosity. She tilted the crystal this way and that, examining the way the darkness shifted. Serena was certain she was looking at it through the Shimmer. “It really pushes the aetherfield away,” Amelia murmured. “I wonder if this is the only type of crystal to do so. Perhaps there’s another set of colours that work the same way, as counterbalance to the moons we all know. But where would they be hiding, hmm…” Amelia trailed off.

Serena couldn’t help but smile. Amelia’s bubbly and warm personality sometimes tricked people into thinking she was naive, but moments like this—like the crazy crystalcraft contraption her girlfriend was making—reminded Serena how smart Amelia actually was. Perhaps even smarter than Serena was. Seeing her girlfriend like this, occupied and distracted by her fascination with the unknown puzzle and mystery of the black moon crystal, reminded her of…

“You remind me of my sister,” Serena said.

“...Which one?” Amelia asked with a barely concealed smirk. “I hope you’re not thinking about Lani.”

“You like Lani.”

“I do.”

“You’ll get along with Nina.”

“Mmm,” Amelia affirmed. “Can’t wait to meet her…” Amelia focused back on the crystal for a moment. Serena watched as, almost unbelievably, the fog that was trying so hard to consume Amelia’s hand was pushed back into the crystal. The crystal was still void, blacker than any black Serena had ever seen, but now the jagged outline was clear, no longer obscured by the fog.

“What did you do?” she asked.

“Forced my aether against it,” Amelia answered. “I think I could shatter this, destroy it if I went further. It’s what my instinct tells me.” Amelia glanced at Serena and asked, “Should I destroy it? I’m sure it’ll be safe.”

“It’s evidence.” Serena shook her head.

“M-Miss Liona,” Mel suddenly spoke out, awkwardly gesturing to Amelia’s hair. Miss Liona’s disguise had partially failed, revealing her original hair colour. Even the small illusory horns on her forehead were wavering.

“What? Oh,” Amelia noted her shimmering Kanaxai disguise. “Too much aether to keep it stable,” she murmured. The crystal erupted with fog again as Amelia relaxed her aether. The golden sheen that had broken through the disguise vanished, leaving only Miss Liona’s characteristic dark hair.

“Ah, but…” Mel glanced at Menes and then at Serena.

Ah, that was right. Serena had only discussed it with Finella.

“Golden hair! Golden hair!” Solara squawked.

“Menes knows,” Serena said.

“Mmm.” Menes nodded. “Menes does know.”

“What? Oh.” Mel looked rather awkward. “I see…”

“We came to an arrangement,” Serena said, adding a look that instructed Mel not to ask further. The fewer people who knew of Amelia’s upcoming miraculous healing of the opium dens, the better.

“Understood, Captain Halen,” Mel said.

Amelia placed the crystal back into the safe. “Oh? What’s up, Menes? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Serena looked at the Arakian to see that he was looking at her. His eyes widened, not in fear, but in something else.

“I just made the connection,” he said.

“Connection?”

“Nina Halen. And you are Captain Halen.” Menes nodded slowly. “She’s your sister. Of course, my sayyidah.”

“You know her?” Serena frowned, crossing her arms. “How in the Seven—”

“I’ve met her, my sayyidah. When I sailed to Centralis with my wife. Anisa Halen, I called her. Your sister wrote to me, wanting to ask me questions about the models I used to predict the Passage weather.” Menes looked up, as if deep in thought. He tapped his horns and said, “Low-sky Boundary Shear Coupling Model for Propulsive Bodies.” He nodded, adding, “Hydrodynamic Barfield-Sina Modelling.”

“...I think he just cast a spell,” Finella muttered.

“Your sister wanted to generalise my models to very small things,” Mene said, holding up his hands six inches apart. “Very small lift engines, and their interactions in the sky. I asked what she was doing, but she said she couldn’t tell me, my sayyidah. Still, I helped her.”

Could it be… Serena thought. Nina’s torpedo work? Her father had mentioned she was working on new weapon systems. Notably, a type of torpedo that automatically homed in on the aether signature of a ship's lift engine.

“Small world,” Serena mused.

“I thought she was well-spoken. I even wondered if she was highborn. Now I realise you are sisters, I can see the connection.” Menes gestured to his eye and horns. “You have the same noble eyes, my sayyidah. And the same horns. Although you are taller, I think.”

“Did she—” Serena cut off, remembering their situation. “I would like to discuss this with you further at another time, Sayyid Bastet, if that is amenable to you?”

Menes chuckled. “You Easterners use so many words sometimes. Yes, we can chat, my sayyidah.”

“Good.” Serena nodded. “As for what to do now. I intend to store this darkblade crystal on the ship, where I know it will be secure. That is, unless”—Serena raised an eyebrow at the Arakian lord—“you are holding out on me again, Menes. Do you have any connections to Intelligence? Do you know of any safe houses?”

Any hope she had of a smooth resolution to the issue was vanquished as Menes shook his head. “I’m sure Intelligence are in Ishaq, my sayyidah, but I do not know where or who. After all, if I could find out so easily, they would not be doing a very good job, would they?”

“You mentioned you had a network.”

“Cousins and friends,” Menes said, waving a hand. “Family ties are strong in the South. Stronger than the East.” The Arakian shrugged, finishing with, “If you need somewhere to hide this, I have a friend.”

“A friend.”

“Mmm.”

“The same friend who told you there was a commotion at the market?” Serena challenged.

“Ha! You are smarter than you look, my sayyidah!”

For him to say something like that to me… Serena sighed, pushing down her anger. She’d managed to release most of her Menes-induced frustration by turning his arrogant brother into a pincushion. It would take much more than just one or two comments before she felt the urge to stab the man again.

“Only…” Menes rubbed his chin. “I would rather not owe them a favour, and to hide something like this, and have them not ask any questions… It will cost me a big favour, my sayyidah.”

“...The ship it is then,” Serena said. Until they were able to get hold of Intelligence through Aiden, she’d rather not risk compromising the security of a darkblade weapon by hiding it in whatever Menes’ friend had available to them.

“I will escort you,” Menes said. “They will be foolish to try anything, especially when I’m here. Their tricks will not work on me, and I am popular here. What happened before will not happen again.”

“Noted,” Serena said. “And appreciated.”

“I will just…” Menes trailed off, disappearing outside the room and then coming back with a long staff. It was six feet tall, almost coming to Serena’s forehead. Judging by how he held it, it was heavy, made from a hardwood. Perhaps even with an iron core, like some of the training weapons in the academy. “Here we go, my sayyidah. I am now armed.”

“What are you trained in, Menes?” Serena asked. “You wore a sword when I captured you.”

“I can use a sword, my sayyidah.” Menes tapped the staff. “But I am more accustomed to this. It is a nabboot, the staff used in Tahtib, which is the name for the Ashendi martial way. It is a stick-fighting art, but it also teaches the way of the fist.”

Oh? Serena thought. That must have been where his unusual stance came from when he rearranged Maramba’s jawline.

“Our women learn it too,” Menes explained. “Not for combat, but for ceremonial purposes. Ha! Ceremonial. I said it right!” He looked especially proud of himself as he continued, “There are demonstrations during the arcwhale festival. You should see it. You will think it is very beautiful, my sayyidah.”

“...Noted.” Serena looked over the group and instructed them to prepare to leave. The black crystal was returned to the safe, nestled in its bed of illicit gold and silver. Amelia quickly reestablished the ward, disguising it as a wooden crate, and Menes, surprisingly, tidied up the kitchen.

“She hates it when I leave things out,” Menes muttered when he caught Serena’s eyes.

“Looking forward to meeting her,” Serena mused. “After all, it was a part of our agreement to be hosted here, was it not?” When Serena had come to an accord with Menes, agreeing to maintain secrecy regarding Amelia in exchange for her healing services and to stay in his home, Serena had imagined a fine mansion. Although she was surprised to see the state of his home, it wasn’t unpleasant, as much as it was just unusual.

“I can read your mind, my sayyidah,” Menes grumbled. “You are planning to join forces and gang up on me, aren’t you?”

“I would never,” Serena replied, in a manner of voice that heavily implied that she would, in fact, try and do exactly that. She wasn’t certain of the exact nature of Menes’ wife, Nefertari Bastet, but her womanly instincts told her they would get along.

After Menes finished mumbling something about foreign women, they left the Bastet family home. Amelia once again carried the safe, while everyone took the same formation as before. Serena did express some concerns about leaving by the front door, but Menes assured them it was better to be brazen and announce themselves. According to him, if they tried to sneak through the side streets, there was a minuscule chance that the isolation might convince their adversaries to try again, if they’d even recovered yet.

And so they made their way through Ishaq. The sun had begun to near the horizon, throwing long shadows across the streets. The markets were still active, but the larger shops were beginning to close up for the day. The smaller stallowners still tried to attract customers, but the number of people shopping was less than a third of what it was at lunch.

“This,” Menes exclaimed, spreading his arms and taking a deep breath. “Is my favourite time in Ishaq. Just as the sun dips down, the air is cool but not chilly. The streets are not busy, and the drinking is about to start, ha! And above us, beyond the mountains, Pyrinn shines brightly, guiding us with its red light.”

“It’s beautiful,” Amelia chirped from behind. “The horizon is so colourful!”

Serena couldn’t help but agree. The shimmering sun produced a brilliant array of vibrant colours, with deep reds that reminded her of Amelia’s aura. There was something… casual and comforting about the markets at this time. She looked up, seeing customers eating on the shaletree balconies that had been fitted with furniture and railings.

Still, she kept her focus while Menes and Amelia cheerfully talked about Ishaq. She needn’t have worried as, true to Menes' predictions, they faced no further challenges. Perhaps Councillor Nasr had ordered his men to leave them alone. She wasn’t even sure if they were being spied on, but she did see a few suspect individuals lurking around corners. If she were alone, she might have captured one or two, but for now, her priority was getting the crystal somewhere safe and secure.

The docks were quiet, with the last of the day's fishermen coming in. In their place, a few ships were leaving, with great lanterns hanging from their bows.

So they do night fishing here, Serena noted. It was an uncommon sight in the Three Sisters. Fishing laws prohibited night fishing; the risk of ship collisions was too great. But she knew the practice was alive and well in the Nai inlet, so she made a mental note to watch it with Amelia when they visited her new estate.

Approaching the Vengeance’s bay, Serena realised that her stomach was in possession of a rather large Korvus-shaped knot. She was almost entirely convinced that without Speaking, Korvus wouldn’t detect Amelia’s disguise, but the man did have a battlefield instinct that rivalled her own.

Serena kept a sharp eye out, watching for her old battlefield colleague. Thankfully, perhaps some of Amelia’s luck rubbed off on her, or Pyrinn truly was smiling down at them, as they didn’t encounter the Mad Dog.

They did, however, come across Hinako and the twins waiting for them. And, as if everything was lining up for her that night, Noburu and Seonmi had reappeared. They were wearing wildly different outfits from what they’d left the ship with, which suggested that they themselves had their own adventure after splitting from Finella and Daichi. She would ask them about that later.

Finella had been right. They had returned. Noburu was focused on building a better life for his sister, and Seonmi had an agreement with Intelligence regarding her noble family, so Serena wasn’t so quick to assume their reappearance was down to pure loyalty.

Still, it was something.

Stopping at the gangway, Serena took the crate from Amelia. “Keep it cloaked. Let’s make sure Anathor is comfortable with this,” Serena instructed. “I’ll secure this inside and return shortly. Then, I’ll debrief everyone here, and then we’ll take our next steps. There’s a lot some of you need to catch up on.”

“Aye aye, Captain!” came the chorus of replies.

Perhaps Serena should have known things going too right meant something was about to go terribly wrong, or perhaps she’d naively assumed her Korvus-shaped knot of anxiety was the main thing to avoid. Whatever it was, she’d made it halfway up the gangway when she was startled by a loud voice erupting from the ship. It was Anathor, uncharacteristically shouting outside the ship.

“Captain, wait! She’s reacting! Don’t bring—”

Then Serena was stopped. Her body locked up, and she instinctively knew the only way she could take another step forward was if she could overpower the shard within the ship itself. The ship was stopping her from boarding. It was—

“NO,” the ship roared, filling Serena’s mind with a strange, feminine voice.

It spoke in an alien language.

The language of the ship.

But I still understood it… Serena thought, before all strength left her body, and she fell to the floor, unable to keep her eyes from closing. The last thing she remembered seeing was falling into Amelia’s embrace.

When Serena finally opened her eyes again, she was standing on a field of endless fog.

With another memory before her.