Restoring Faith

765 Hippocampus Rush

Connor waits for Trevor all night, even as Manuk's throne floats from behind the line where the Angora Sea and sky meadows. He stood awake, observing the maps strewn about his desk in his captain's quarters. His quarters had the space for a desk covered with his maps and senseless scribbles, an alchemy table with shelves full of his tools and resources, a nailed in bed to the ground that he barely lay on based on how unwrinkled the sheets are, a nailed down brown couch for two that he'd often rested on, and a chest right at the foot of the bed. The primary use for the chest is to store his shirts and anything difficult to hang on a wire. His coat and utility belt are hung up with wires to save space in his limited floor plan. Next to his desk is a bookcase decorated with souvenirs of his travels, from the shackles of when he escaped Alabast prison to a lone worthless crystal he got from descending the deepest cavern to get an alchemical ingredient. This captain had all the maps, from pointing to the circulation of the sea to pinpointing alchemy resources strewn on top of his desk. The most important map is kept beneath another plain one, this one he had out and read the handwriting he left behind for himself. The symbols all mean something, points of interest he like to visit to mysteries he'd like to uncover.

'The Trail Artifacts' is poorly labeled at multiple points on this map. A reminder to himself what his goal truly is, everything else becomes secondary. Pounding sounds force him out of his studies, shifting the map beneath the other plain one. Besides Gash, no one else on this ship had ever seen his specially crafted map. This means when he invites anyone in, this map is safely put away in layers of his other work.

"COME IN." Connor commands and quickly enters one apathetic male.

"I've returned, captain." Trevor bows his head; his hair is swept back but a few black strands stuck out on his face. Like a lot of them on this ship, the salt and sun dried out their skin and hair. It is too much of a luxury to treat it at times, but the most people will do is cut it short again.

Either they'll cut it short for each other or people like Jerold who has a wife at home who will happily take over the task. Jerold brags about it all the time, saying his wife had the most tender touch across the Angoran seas. That man romanticizes anything simple that revolves around his wife and six kids. Connor won’t know much about it; he'd always kept his friendships at varied distances. There may never be a day when he takes on a spouse. Never is his goal since his current goal might put him in an earlier grave. He can’t justify an intimate relationship with that simple possibility, besides all his energy is for these maps.

"What have you found, Trevor?" Connor inquires, leaning back on his chair. The cushion croaks beneath him, telling him he might do well to look for a new chair or pilfer one from other ships.

"That steed wasn't the only one." Trevor lay it out thickly, he isn’t the type to beat around the bush, which Connor can appreciate.

That crazy woman... Connor composes his features. "How many?"

"Hard to say since that involves finding the Death Twister's stables. But all these beasts had precious cargo on them and had to be spooked to end at every corner of the town. Some of the steeds lost their cargo. Chances are the culprit being the locals that found them first. "

Per Trevor, one person strap valuables on Keldio steeds, they manage to gather the goods and use multiple steeds as shipment. They continue their transgressions by spooking the herd of keldio steeds into a stampede. They did this in the middle of the night when no one had their guard up. Connor is starting to believe Trevor's story of a Krax that used domesticated animals to trample a town into Erathea.

"Captain...does this have something to do with that Krax woman?"

"Possibly." It's hard to believe she would be capable of all that on her own. However, he saw her ability covering her traces and losing her pursuers. Her skills are exactly what she needs to survive the jungle. It might be easier now since none of her pursuers can follow her scent.

And at that speed, she ran as if she had the fires of Manuk below her footpads. The Captain of Nightmare Maiden cannot ignore her any longer.

"Well...you better hurry, captain. Last, I heard a few Death Twisters were talking about catching her."

You could've said that sooner. Connor scoffs, getting out of his seat and grabbing his hanging utility belt and coat. He is foolish to think he had a lot of time to act, a small misstep, but he is making a lot of those when it came to this woman. He had his weapons strap to him last before barking his next orders, "You're dismissed. Have Ruffin take over the investigations."

"Aye aye..." Trevor shook his head, whether he disagreed with his captain's involvement in the Krax won’t matter to Connor. Captain Connor isn’t exactly in a listening mood. The retired executioner left the cabin with nothing else to add. Connor grabs the complete alchemy bottles, all varied in properties, but he is hoping that it will never come down to him using any.

Once satisfied with the battle prepping, he marches out of the cabin and lock the door behind him. He plans to go straight to the orphanage. After all, he didn't believe that Krax woman will be anywhere else. In fact, he promises to meet her there at some point just that she won’t suspect this early or that he knew anything about the golden loot keldio stampede. Connor must ask her how she pulled it off without alerting the guards when things do calm down...

When things calm down? He's being foolish again. As soon this is over, he will be cutting ties with this woman. That is the right thing to do. Connor's assurance to that seems questionable in his own mind, he can handle the suspicion of both Gash and Trevor. Nevertheless, if his mind starts backtracking on anything, he won’t jump into the fray. Observe then act, his master would say. Just that right now, he isn't following his own status quo.

Connor manages his way through the depths of the tiny town and to the section where he last found the Krax and the young man. He almost became disappointed not seeing either one, that motivates him to inspect each building that he passes.

Surely the Vicar wasn't walking far with a trail of children like that. His certainty paid off when he notices one of these buildings stand out from the rest, with wooden toys left behind on the ground and the effigies of the famous Chemuk elements hanging above the door. A lot of Moarin religious places have these symbols to show their devotion to the rest. The symbols have many uses. For the everyday town folk, they perceive these symbols as a sign of worship. For Captain Connor, they are perfect landmarks. If he ever gets turned around in a town, he just needs to find these places of worship since they always face the direction of the ocean. Chemuk is a God that lives in the seas. The effigies always faced the sea. This one is no different. The effigy is tilted to the left, this building's left. The effigy is shaped into these three main elements; rock and air; twist over the symbol of water. The symbols he remembers bowing his head as a child, only told to pray or revel underneath it but never given proof that it did anything. That mindset follows him today. He advances towards the door, ignoring even this effigy one as he straight away knocks on the door. The door is worse to wear, creaking beneath each knock. Connor made sure to study it and understand each bug hole or crack as a sign of poverty and lack of a skilled individual that can fix it. If his ship repairer ever saw this, Iggy will have gone on his way to fixing such a door out of pure obsession.

"Oh my! Hold on." The voice of an older individual answers. The sounds of strained shuffling, and children hollering questions behind the shuffling suggested someone else he had not yet met lived at the orphanage. The door shakes open and inward, an older woman with the holy regalia of the Three Gods Church stood at the entrance. He notices how her spotted hands quake with the weakness of her age, grasping the door open to keep her balance. At least those kind eyes of hers glistened with an unwarranted jovial kindness, there are two children gripping at her hemming and gawking at Connor.

"Grace Risa!? That's the man the Vicar was talking about." Not so quietly whispers one child.

"Grace! Whea said earlier-!"

"Shush, children. That is not how you greet someone at the door. Welcome. Young man. Are you the one my child is expecting?" Grace isn't that shy around Connor to have a side bar correction, cracking a smile that spreads the wrinkles on her face soon after. Her framed glasses slid down to the tip of her nose, and with one shaky hand she fixes it in place.

"That I am, Grace. Connor is my name. By chance, is she here?" Connor isn’t trying to hide his identity with these people, finding the poorer someone is the least likely to go around spouting nonsense lest it meant getting paid. As well, the people of the church practice secure confidentiality when they aren't corrupted. Vicar Jal and this Grace Risa don't seem corrupted.

"Thought it will be a long time before that feisty child ever gets a visitor. Come in! I'll fetch us some tea! Luan. Wenrys. Why don't you go look for Rhea?"

"Ok Grace!" chime the two that hung by her side. They bound inside to do exactly as asked.

I can’t waste more time. He'd open his mouth to decline the hospitality, but the old woman had a strange knack of persuasion or selective hearing with every twitch to decline. She is already moving to the kitchen, and she prepares a cup. The tea kettle sat steaming from its spout just at the counter. Upon entering the place, it is small. There is no real complexity to it, he'd walk through the front door and find himself in the first section of this abode. The first two glaring issues are how small it is for the occupancy of thirteen individuals and all the furniture cram close to the center so that there is an illusion of space. The children in this room took their seats because there isn’t any other choice. He really isn’t as prepared for the stare down he will receive from six different varying shaped eyes. So far, he had only been able to count eight children. Where are the other two?

Grace Risa wobbles over to the table with a cup in both hands, she set it down and became very insistent despite their difference in height and age. "Take a seat, young man."

Connor shoves down any reluctance. For one reason, these people didn't have a lot based on what he sees now. Another reason is that he had to appear less hostile. These kids are whispering very loudly about him, all not in a good light.

"Whea said not to talk to him! Sailors are tricky"

"He got a scary face!?"

"His face is getting scarier!?"

"He looks so small..."

What has she been saying about me? Connor did keep his emotions in check, but his brow did twitch occasionally. Apparently, his lack of reaction is rewarded by a rather annoyed holy woman.

"Children!"

"Sorry mister!" Chime the oldest child in the rotation, big buck teeth poking beneath the glum pout.

"No offense taken," Not mad at you at least . Connor took the cup of tea to his mouth, ignoring the cracked ceramic shape. If he isn’t so duty bound, he might've strip off his icy exterior, he is always kinder towards the children. Children didn't cause war or destruction; they don't deserve his icier front. The stomping noise grew loud in another room. He can hear it between the thin wooden walls. It sounds just like someone running down a set of steps.

Steps? From the outside, the building didn’t have a second floor. This means whoever is storming in on them was at the rooftop. It made more sense when he saw the same Krax woman from yesterday. The only difference is she had one orphaned toddler in her arms with three other orphans following her like a flock of cuckoos. Her expression screams ' YOU AGAIN ' beneath the rather tense grin. "I...was…not expecting you so soon...”

Funny. I wasn't expecting you to be so reckless either, but here we are.

"I was taking a stroll around the area. Thought to introduce myself properly." He set the cup down on the table, ignoring her increasing intolerance towards him. Connor isn’t going to give her the time of day; his attention settles on Grace Risa instead. "Thank you for the tea, Grace Risa."

"It was my pleasure, young man. Now Rhea. Put Eloso on a seat and have some tea-"

"No. Thank you, Grace Risa. I think Mister Connor will agree with me, that it is time for a private chat. Alone...OUTSIDE." Rhea sat the child, Eloso, down on a chair, very admirably gentle in every motion despite the gruffness of her appearance. She appears to have a lot of compassion for all of them, including the one that joined the gang. Her visible annoyance is tempered easily when one orphan hugs her leg.

"Dun't go with the scary sailor, Whea-"

What in Anukrin playground-

The woman sucks back a chortle, patting the orphan boy's head. "He is not scary. Besides, no one can ever catch me."

We haven't tested that claim yet, crazy... Connor shoves down another emotion from the surface of his face, his patience waning faster than he can handle. To weaken the effects of the disrespect towards him, he focuses on Grace Risa again. He stood up and bow his head, "Thank you for your hospitality."

"It was my pleasure! Rhea...isn't good with strangers but she has a shining heart. She just gotta warm up to you."

"Okay. Come..." Rhea had an odd reaction towards the comment; she is trying to hide her face as her bare feet stomps towards the door. Connor might've missed the redness of her ears if he isn’t watching her. This woman is an example of a being that wears her heart on her sleeve. These people that he is learning about are useful, if only Connor can ever convince one to trust him. Again, his good looks are plagued with the deepest of scowls whenever he had dealings with strangers like Rhea. Forced to follow her irrational distrust and commanding aura, he is deepening that same scowl and adding tenseness to his jaw. Regardless, the captain follows Rhea, somehow drowning the reluctance beneath a shroud of indifference. It seems that rewards more of a reaction out of the Krax woman, than just playing her antagonizing game.