Author's Preface
Year 765 Manuk Soulstone
Everything and everyone became so quiet. Ruffin’s jaw drops; Jerold double takes to Sabol who nods to confirm so.
Cid lost his smile, looking like he is ruminating on her proclamation like he is merely soup tasting. The fear constricts her lungs. At any second, she can collapse from the anxiety.
No. Rhea won’t allow her fears to control her; she ran away from her problems once before, but she won’t this time. She won’t repeat the slave encampment.
Rhea crawls out of her hammock, naked toes pressing against the crack of the floorboard. She stands on her heels, with her head held high, curls descending all around her face. This woman won’t allow fear to bridle her; she didn’t know a single thing about being meek.
“You may not think of me the same knowing this truth. But…it does not change who I am. And right now, I need your help.” Rhea let out the most reckless grin that she can muster underneath the gravity of her anxiety. “This will be the only thing I will ask and then you can continue with your thoughts of me.”
There is more silence, it made her worry about relying on them so soon after such a revelation. However, she is a fool to doubt it.
“Aw little matey. Ye prove yer worth durin’ our spar. I will stand by ye.” Cid beams brighter, pumping his chest with his fist. “Ye shall ‘ave used yer powers durin’ our spar.”
“Big guy…That would ‘ave broken the rules.” Jerold looks the most concerned for a moment before just shaking his head with a defeated sigh. Something must have dawn on him to sport that easy smile. “She’s done enough fer this crew t’ earns me trust.”
The stinging burns the corner of her eyes; she snorts back a whimper. Waiting for Ruffin to react next. Sabol is no longer listening, rummaging through a lone chest which is set next to a medicine cabinet. What is he looking for now!?
Ruffin is brimming with questions base on how he leans forward and is red in the face. He blurts them out as if it hurt him to stay so silent, “Wait, wait!? How does mana feel in your hands!? Where did you learn to wield it!? Who did you inherit the power!? What happens when you sneeze!?”
Except for one, they are all questions she will love to sit down and answer. Answers that she needs to provide to the captain first.
“I promise to answer any question you may have later. But I must speak to the captain first.” Rhea cuts the boy off during his barrage of questions. Peering at each face for any suggestions that might help her in her attempts.
“The Captn is a sour pus. Ya gonna get him irked regardless of if ya missin’ an arm or need t’ ask how his day went.” Jerold honestly states, dread fills her gut again.
“Don’t say that about captain! He’s only mad like eighty times a mourn. The rest, he is just neutral or sleeping.” Ruffin’s attempts to defend his captain did not help with the dread in her gut.
“Welp, he’s a great capt.” Cid said out of nowhere, and it held no weight to either side of the conversation. Rhea is starting to re-think about facing the captain. He can keep her bow and quiver while she is at it.
“You better not waste any more time, Rhea.” Sabol pulls his one-eared face away from the chest, waving a raggedy-looking blouse. It is clean at least. “Put on some clothes.”
Rhea glances down, seeing just her leather wraps bunching up her breast tight and the trousers that she had worn since yesterday. Right…clothes.
She isn’t the shy type, but Connor had instilled this need to keep clothes on as much as possible. Her hand rips the shirt away from Sabol with a curt ‘thank you,’ slipping the scratchy fabric on herself. She really hates the feel of this fabric.
“Only Manuk can grace me luck today-”(“You mean night.” Ruffin corrects Rhea)”TONIGHT! Just help me with the rumors.” Rhea pats down the looseness of this scratchy shirt and saunters over to the door with all of them tailing behind her.
“Ya betcha I would, lass!”
“See yer later, little matey!”
Not so shockingly, they all agreed with her urgency.
They all have her side. It had been a very long time since she had ever felt this warm kinship. Rhea thought for the longest that such things didn’t exist for people like her. Certainly, a reality that she won’t know how to deal with at first. All she can do is use this excitable energy in her strides. Ruffin, Cid, and Jerold all split from her to do their parts as promised. Sabol remains in his office; he said something about cleaning the work area. That older man didn’t know when to quit.
Regardless, she climbs up the hatch ladder and pushes it open. The starry expanse was the first thing that greets her sight. The beautiful black expanse glitters with tiny white lights thought to be the souls of the long dead. It is the very same night sky she watches every nightfall during her travels, expecting to find her parents up there watching her.
Rhea had yet to find them out there in the black sea, but it didn’t cool the warmth on her face as the corners of her lips tick up into a smile. I am doing better…Mama…Papa.
Determination boils her blood to keep moving, charging right out of the hatch entrance, and pad across the wooden main deck surface.
The dark blue sea matches with the same glamour. She wants to inspect the glowing life that floats lazily just below the surface. Over a hundred clusters of giant glowing orange creatures with no eyes, face, or mouth floats on the surface. Not even the cut from the Nightmare Maiden stirs these strange creatures, they look more like the flowers she will see in the jungle during this time of season.
Beautiful and listless, she wants to watch them float on forever. Yet…
Her vision swivels back to the door of the captain’s quarters; a stray gulp constricts the muscles of her neck. No rest is allowed when she had a job to do. Rhea keeps moving, ignoring the beautiful marvel of the sea. There will be more time later to experience them.
If she can survive after that. Rhea reaches for the doorknob and twist it to realize it is unlocked again. She expects the captain to at least start locking his door the many times she barges in unannounced. Rhea should probably start knocking.
Nope! Rhea enters the quarters, froze in place when the scrutiny of one very perturbed captain pins her. The captain sat behind his desk this time, beating the blunt end of his writing tool on the surface of the map. His straight hair is tussled at the top from him running his fingers through it more than once. Dark shade discolors the thin skin beneath his piercing copper eyes, showing he hadn’t slept for some time. Even the slant of his chin shadow from the new buds of his growing beard. Connor didn’t wear his usual red coat. He wears his brown blouse, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows to show off his tense forearms. The string fails to tie up his v neck collar which shows more of his chest than normally. That left a gap in the opening where she can see the skin beneath his shirt line is lighter than the tanner parts. The definition of his collarbone and the curves of where his pectoral muscles started to take shape are out there for her to see.
This is the most underdressed she had ever seen Connor. Fearing for certain that she will just catch him in the nude next time.
“Y-you should seriously lock the door.” Rhea stutters to fill the silence with any noise to lessen the intensity of this stare down.
“Hmph. Most knock before entering my place of work.” Connor’s broad brow twitches, restraining that initial annoyance. He places his pen down, lifting his tallness from his chair. His long legs glides over to her; she had her back against the door trying to keep a healthy space between them. This man quickly closes the gap while she is mesmerized by the intense aura.
Vishka!? Connor’s presence is powerful and daunting. The fact that he hovers over her in seconds meant that she is too distracted by his magnificence to allow it to happen. It angers her.
This man takes her left wrist in his right hand. The callous pads may have start out gentle at first touch, but the grip tightens.
It became the grip of a punisher; his hostile energy is suffocating her more than the anxiety she felt before coming into his quarters. She is frozen by the ice-cold gaze of his copper pools peering down at her with judgement.
“You are going back to Sabol this very instant.” These words came out of his very chest like a rumbling volcano; it shakes through her tiny frame.
No!
Rhea didn’t know where she finds the courage half the time, or maybe how she can see past this hostile front to understand that he is not going to harm her. His words show his true intentions this time, failing the work he had done with his tone and stance.
“I am fine, the wound is gon-“ Rhea reaches the collar of this scratchy blouse to try to push the left shoulder part off.
Connor did not let her, grabbing her other wrist and pinning it above her curly head. “I have no room in me for any more of your insubordination. You will do as I say!”
Rhea blinks, not sure what kind of position they are in and how to react to it. He is so close; she can see the very pores of his exposed collar bone. He had to dip his head so that Rhea can feel his hot breath between them, even noticing the way his jaw clenches and the way the protrusion of his neck bounces with each word.
Does he think he can control me by throwing his weight around?
“Captain- mister -whatever.” Her brows dip down to match him in his intense aura. She can care less about his lack of patience, or even the fact that he had her cornered. It tempts her to show the versatility of her magic, maybe burn his hands off her. It will make sense for her to do so, yet she recalls what Sabol said. Connor saved her…again. “I am a MAGE!”