The Great War: Chapter 24
Moving pieces
“‘ey.” Mathew looks up from his bag, his mother’s necklace slipping from his fingers. It’s Lorn. He cracks a small smile of welcome.
“What brings ye over?” he asks.
Lorn, however, stares back with a flat face. “We might be let go a couple months early, mate.”
“What?”
Lorn bends down and leans in close to Mathew’s ear. “The Guardians were talkin’ of peace talks.”
Mathew frowns in confusion. It’s only been a handful of months since the wizards called for war. And now it’s ending in peace talks?
“Can’t be,” he can’t help but breathe aloud.
“Don’t go sharin’,” Lorn warns. “Don’t want to get hopes up.”
“That doesn’t make me hopeful anyways,” Mathew replies. Lorn’s eyebrows rise with curiosity, waiting for him to elaborate. “I want to get on the front line. But since this is my first time on a ship, I’ve got time to serve before then.”
“An ax to grind,” Lorn nods back.
“Ye can say that.” If he can win a fight with a wizard without his magic, he’ll feel satisfied.
“I also heard we’re changing course,” Lorn adds. “A small island near Fort Etrerr.”
That only makes Mathew scowl. “A small island” to blow out of the water, no doubt.
“It lines up perfectly,” Lorn continues. “Whatever is being planned, we don’t want them to have any safe harbor nearby.”
“So it’s not peace talks,” Mathew states in a whisper.
“Might not be,” Lorn replies. “I volunteered to be captain of the drop ship this time, so I’m assembling a raid party. Want to join?”
“I don’t know. Slash and burn ain’t my thing.”
“The cannons ain’t yer thing, either, mate.”
Mathew folds his arms. Lorn’s got a point. He doesn’t like being one of the beings responsible for wiping islands off the map. He doesn’t know if he’ll like looting and burning homes, either.
“You’ve not been on a drop ship yet,” Lorn adds, cracking a grin. “Ye might like it.”
“Doubtful.”
“Give it a try.” Lorn stands, stretching his arms above his head momentarily. “I’ll leave a spot open for ye. Just think it over and let me know if ye want to come along.” With that, Mathew is left alone once more.
He turns back to his bag between his legs, where he sees his mother’s necklace glint back at him. A small pang of longing rises in his chest, longing to know if she and his siblings are alright. He might resent them for leaving without warning, but he can’t fully bring himself to denounce them. Not like his father.
The longer he stares, the more it appears that the necklace is floating on the shadows of the bag, weightless and carefree. He reaches for the white crystal again, his fingers lightly pressing on its surface. A small surge of magic rushes down his arm, a cold river flowing over warm stones, and he watches a small speck of ice spread out from where his fingertips touch the jewelry.
It’s not his fault he was born able to use magic. But being in that minority… in the midst of Guardians and pirates, he can’t help but look around and wonder if he’s the only being like him on this ship. Surely not, but he doesn’t know. And he’s scared to say something, or else.
There’s another word he dislikes: Pirate. He didn’t ask to be a pirate, a plunderer and destroyer, but that’s what he’s become. That’s what they’ve all become.
A pirate with magic. That doesn’t sound right.
”Sam said that if you want to join the voyage you’re going to have to help around the ship,” Ezra had relayed to Isaac. “Anya, too.”
He doesn’t mind that too much. He saw how other sailors operated on his voyage to Korodon and absorbed quite a fair bit of knowledge from them, although he wrote most of it off since he never thought he’d be in any of their positions.
Isaac and Anya trail the prince and Ezra, with Devin lingering not too far behind them. His sharp gaze is enough to send shivers down Isaac’s back every couple of steps. Their shoes rap the wooden pier below, with beings parting before them as they make their way towards the ship.
“Just up ahead,” Samuel says over his shoulder. He points to the very end of the pier, where a large merchant vessel floats, its sails rolled up and its black flag flying high overhead. Sailors rush on and off the ship, carrying boxes or ropes or other materials they’re restocking. A man stands at the bottom of the boarding ramp, waving his arms around to direct the crew.
As the group approaches, the man turns to face them, revealing his bright golden eyes, betraying his magic, and smiles. His face is worn with weather and ocean water, and his laugh lines run deep.
“My prince,” he says with a bow.
“Rise,” Samuel sighs, turning to Isaac and Anya. “This is Captain Edwin, one of the best sailing wizards of Korodon. You two will be working under him for the voyage. I hope you don’t mind the surprise hands, Captain.”
“Of course not,” Edwin replies. “Extra help is always appreciated.”
“What magic do you have?” Isaac can’t help but ask, staring at Edwin’s outfit. Though his eyes are a striking gold, typical of an Illusionist he’d see in San Ovila, he wears a long navy blue coat, tall leather boots, and a low-neck grey shirt.
“I’m an Illusionist,” the Captain replies, his eyes flickering over Isaac as well. What a strange outfit for a wizard… “I assume you are as well?” Isaac nods back.
“When do you think we’ll be leaving?” Samuel asks.
“Maybe in three or four cycles,” Edwin replies with a hum. “That should be enough time to show these two the ropes at least.”
“Then I’ll leave them in your hands, Captain.”
“Aye. Shadows guide you.”
Samuel waves for Ezra to follow him, and the three make their way back down the pier, leaving Isaac and Anya by the ship.
After a moment, Edwin nods to his ship. “Well, then, might as well show you two around. This way.”
Edwin turns to the boarding ramp and tromps up the length of wood with ease, no barrier between him and falling into the ocean below. A pang of doubt and fear rises from Anya as she stares at the ship, not from falling into the water but simply remembering her harrowing voyage. Isaac slowly slips his hand into hers and squeezes it, trying to give her some sort of support. Still, Isaac himself can’t help but stare down at the dark water below them.
“Let’s go,” he tells her.
“Right,” she breathes back.