Chapter 47: Picking Up the Pieces

 

Sairek held Varhi for a few moments, patiently allowing the other boy to compose himself. Varhi eventually pulled away from him though, shaking his head slowly. “No… I… I can’t be doing this right now…” he murmured under his breath. “We need to get out of here… Urgently.”

“Are we even going to be able to leave? The ship looks like it sailed through the Underworld itself.” Nayleen asked. "It's got holes in it for crying out loud. Won't it sink?"

“She still runs, but she’s hurt badly...” Varhi muttered, glancing towards the steering wheel. “I haven’t gotten a chance to assess the damage properly because of…” he trailed off, gesturing with a shake of his head at Hawkins on the ground, “...but if I were to guess, at least two engines have probably failed. Possibly three... I’m going to have to do work to disable them from running or we’ll be burning fuel fast and it could cause more damage trying to make broken parts run.”

“You can’t do work when you're injured like this…!” Sairek protested.

Varhi sighed, but shook his head. “Sairek, I haven’t checked the rooms yet, but if we’re lucky, all of our stuff may still be here… If you could, can you go check and see if all of your supplies are there? With all the shaking and battling that had been going on, I doubt there’s anyone else on board. They would have probably come out by now if they were. Even if your stuff is gone, there will be medical supplies somewhere stored on the ship for emergencies. We can always use a sheet for bandages or whatever in the worst case scenario.”

“I—Yes,” Sairek agreed, letting Varhi go to stand up. He glanced down at himself, seeing some of Varhi’s blood had stained the front of his tabard despite trying to avoid it.

“Sairek,” Cyial called out, holding out his staff to him. Sairek walked over quickly, grabbing it from Cyial, before sprinting off to get those supplies, one way or another.

“Nayleen, go with him just in case.” Varhi told her.

“But...”

“Cyial will check me... right?” Varhi asked, looking at Cyial.

“Yes.” Cyial agreed, then frowned. “This is starting to become a habit though.”

Varhi cracked a weak smile at that.

“‘Kay, boss.” Nayleen submitted, standing up and quickly sprinting off after Sairek to aid him.

Cyial moved, opting to give a wide berth to the deceased man on the floor as he made his way towards Varhi, looking back and forth between the both of them. “...Who is—was he, anyway? Do you know? That's the same guy who was torturing you before, right?”

“Aye. A captain… Maybe Avotash’s right-hand-man, I don’t know… he was definitely important, though.” Varhi grumbled, moving to stand himself up as he made his way over to him past Cyial, grabbing the man’s feet and dragging him.

“V-Varhi?” Cyial asked cautiously.

Varhi grunted as he pulled the man’s legs up over the railing. His right arm and side screamed at him to stop and rest but he didn’t. He kept going until over half of the man’s weight was nearly tipped over the edge of the boat. He paused, glancing at the man’s face, then moved a hand to brush his palm over his face downwards to close his eyes. He gave one final grunt, pushing the rest of the man’s weight needed to tip him over the edge and go falling off the side of the boat in a large splash due to the armor, just disappearing over the edge after the foam cleared.

“...What…?” Cyial asked quietly.

“...I don’t need a reminder of what I just had to do… And I don't need a stinking corpse rotting on the deck of my ship, either.” Varhi growled quietly. “I know what my job is… but dead people… they make me feel sick if I stay around them for too long.” Varhi tried to explain. “...When the battle is over, I stop feeling that adrenaline rush that makes me feel alive and just go back to feeling dead inside. Lingering dead people reminds me too much of myself.”
He sighed and shook his head. “...Cyial, look, I need to get this boat moving again. I need to at least have us sailing before you take a look at me. No doubt Cyvolta ships are still coming after us and can arrive here within minutes if we’re just parked here.”
Varhi walked, or limped by Cyial towards the steering wheel. He maneuvered the lever to withdraw the rope ladder back to the ship, then dropped the sails once again, angling them to catch the most favorable wind for speed. He didn’t care which direction they went at the moment, as long as it was not directly into land and kept them moving away from here—from Masirean. When that was done, he moved to pick up his pot lid, putting it back into his satchel, and moving to pick up his greatsword in his left hand, presenting it to Cyial. “...Could you please? I can’t with my arm like this…” He requested.

Cyial nodded, taking the sword carefully in both hands, and moved to place it back in the sheath on Varhi’s back carefully. Varhi moved back towards the pillar that housed the sail, groaning a little as he sat down and leaned against it briefly before pulling his helmet visor off and putting it back into his satchel, then took off his cape, setting it beside himself, then his gauntlets, before raising his arms up, granting Cyial permission to help pull off his leather armor, which Cyial did carefully after loosening Varhi's belt, placing the torn and bloodied armor off to the side.

Cyial sucked in a breath through his teeth, observing the two slashes as Varhi sat shirtless. “You’re still bleeding… These wounds look very bad, Varhi.”

“...Yeah, I can tell. My body is starting to get cold in those spots and I started to feel woozy from the blood loss a little bit ago.” Varhi admitted, then dug into his satchel again. “Here, use the rope pieces you used for Sairek’s wounds for my arm when they come back to tie whatever they find together.” Varhi suggested, offering the ropes to Cyial as he pulled them out of the satchel, which the demon took into his own hands and placed them down beside himself as well.

“We… might need more than rope, Varhi. I may have to stitch these… I can't understate that this is bad. In the meantime though, please lay down on your back and try not to move.” Cyial began, prying off his own gloves. Varhi complied to Cyial’s request. Cyial moved his bare hands onto Varhi’s side, pressing down tightly to apply pressure to slow the bleeding until the others got back. Varhi hissed and growled in obvious pain and discomfort. Cyial moved his tail using it to wrap two bundles of coils around Varhi’s right arm to help reduce circulation between the bleeding limb to stem the bleeding there too, where he stayed like that until Sairek and Nayleen both came sprinting back.

“It’s there, all of our stuff is there. Even the ethereal... What we had left anyway.” Sairek panted, out of breath, but tone relieved at some good news in this past week or so. He slid down in the middle of his sprinting, sliding along the deck of the ship a little as he presented a half-filled flask of ethereal.

Cyial lifted his hands off the wound on the side. “I'd love to use that to concoct a potion with my herbs but there's no time. Varhi's lost a considerable amount of blood and he's losing more. Pour the ethereal nice and good over the wounds please. This will sting, Varhi.”

“I know… This isn’t my first time. This part always sucks.” Varhi groaned.

Cyial glanced towards Nayleen. “Can you give him one of your arrows? It would be best if he had something to bite down on.”

"Pouring ethereal over open wounds like that hurts that badly?" Nayleen grimaced.

Cyial nodded grimly. "It rapidly accelerates the healing process for the damaged muscles, but that sends quite a shock to the nerves. It doesn't last too long but it's a miserable couple of minutes until the process slows back down again.

Nayleen wordlessly reached back into her quiver and slid out an arrow, bending down and placing it against Varhi’s teeth as he opened them apart to accept it before clamping down on the arrow between them.

"Okay Sairek, pour it just like if you were pouring disinfectant over it." Cyial instructed.

“Okay, I will. Ready?” Sairek asked the other boy in front of him. Varhi gave an affirmative grunt, so he gingerly began pouring ethereal from the flask over the older boy’s open wounds.

Varhi’s violet eyes widened open in abrupt shock as he bit down hard into the arrow. “NNGH…”

Sairek himself grunted and he splashed a tiny bit of ethereal onto the deck as Varhi’s legs kicked out and smacked him in the shoulder. He had to readjust himself and hold Varhi’s right leg down, while Nayleen moved to hold the left arm and leg down, and Cyial kept the right arm steady to prevent Varhi from thrashing too much. Thankfully after the initial shock, he didn’t squirm very much, though he did groan as Sairek doused his side, then his arm until nothing came out of the flask but a few dribbles, to which he poured the rest onto the royal jewel, which went from a deep orange-red to a sunny-orange, only changing a few hues with the few drops left within the emptied flask.

“Ugh… This really is bad…” Cyial murmured under his breath. “The arm will only need a bandage I think. It's only bleeding a little, but this wound on the side is… ...Sairek, can you dig into my robe please? I can’t let go of the him or the wound right now...” Cyial requested, his tone remaining relatively calm, clinical.

“What am I looking for?” Sairek asked for clarification.

“Wait a second… I’ll guide you.” Cyial replied in a murmur, closing his eyes as he concentrated towards Sairek’s consciousness. Wordless after a brief moment, Sairek moved, reaching into Cyial’s robes to pull out a suture needle and some thread.
“Thanks…” Cyial replied. After a moment of holding him down when the other boy's struggles began to laxen, Cyial released Varhi’s side to take the items gingerly in his hands. Sairek swallowed nervously seeing how bloody the demon's hands were.
The blood didn't seem to detract from Cyial's dexterity though. He weaved the thread through the needle before positioning himself. “It’s been a while since I’ve had to do this… I’m sorry Varhi, this is going to hurt real bad again. Probably worse than the ethereal. Longer, too.”

With the arrow still between his teeth, Varhi only released a muffled huff. His forehead and chest were beginning to perspire.

“Okay, three, two, one…” Cyial cautioned, before pressing the needle into his skin.

Varhi grunted as it pierced into his side, and then released a gurgling muffled cry, starting to thrash again as Cyial pressed the needle further through. He panted for air through his nose as the three struggled to hold him down. Varhi’s body was beginning to perspire with sweat heavily at this point, making it a little bit more tricky. Cyial however worked the needle through the wound quickly, and Varhi’s muffled shouts were short-lived, sagging exhausted on the deck of the ship, panting through the air in his teeth and the arrow in his mouth, eyes clenched shut tightly, his eyebrows knotted and furrowed in a deep grimace.

Sairek bit his bottom lip, watching helplessly as one of his friends suffered like this was… gut wrenching. And it also made him angry that it had come down to this in the first place…
He wanted to learn more about the real world… but was the real world really this cruel outside of Ceareste? Where people would even harm children like them, just to satisfy their own needs…? To follow orders blindly, disregarding any morals in doing so–?

“Grrr...aaa—AAAUHHH!!”

Sairek's thoughts were interrupted by the noise of agony, his stomach felt like it was twisting into knot that made him feel ill. Varhi screamed and began to thrash again from Cyial putting the needle to stitch his side again. Varhi must had been holding back valiantly before despite the uncomfortable noises before, because this time he was screaming like it was bloody murder into the night, arching his back off the deck which was beginning to not only have a small pool of blood where he lay, but a puddle of sweat as well… only once again finally relaxing when Cyial pulled the needle back through the wound, where the arrow fell out of his mouth, rolling down his chin, and lay on his chest as he heaved hard.

“O-Okay… f-f-forget what I said… th-this part… definitely… worse…!” Varhi gasped.

“Do you need a moment…?” Cyial asked.

“Screw that… Don’t make me have to wait in anticipation, now…” Varhi grunted.

“...Well, at least you still have your attitude.” Nayleen remarked dryly.

“Sorry, that’s never going away…” Varhi smiled weakly, but he could only hold it for a few seconds as he panted again. “Arrow…”

Nayleen reached over and picked the arrow into her fingers, where she examined it, letting out an uneasy exhale with seeing the bite marks over the midsection of it. She placed the arrow back between Varhi's teeth, where he bit onto it again to keep it there. He took a few inhales of air through his nose before laying his head back down, giving a grunt to Cyial to proceed.

The demon gulped, but continued, pushing the needle back in again. Varhi clearly tried to hold it in, a deep guttural sound forming in his chest as his teeth bit hard into the arrow’s shaft, but he soon once again began to holler in agony and thrash. Sairek reached over, pressing his left hand down on Varhi's sternum try try to keep him steady for Cyial, who continued to thread the needle through the gash…

Varhi suffered through this another three more times, though by the end, he was clearly starting to fatigue and become weaker, letting out nothing more than high-pitched groans, whines or gasps in reaction, and his voice had started to become hoarse from all the screaming. Finally though, Cyial pushed the needle through one last time and sighed. “That should do… Are you doing alright...?"

"Nnnh... I think—I handled that... perfectly well..." Varhi huffed through labored breathing.

"...Still a wise-ass. That's a good sign, I guess..." Sairek rolled his eyes, causing the mercenary to offer the prince a weak grin.

"...Okay Varhi, we’re gonna sit you up slowly.” Cyial instructed, letting go of Varhi’s side momentarily to brace his back with Nayleen’s assistance as they slowly moved to sit him upright. Varhi groaned in discomfort, practically sagging against their hands and arms. He released the arrow from his teeth which fell down onto his lap, knowing the worst of his treatment was over now, finally.
Cyial unwrapped the bandages and rolled them around the boy’s stomach, again with Nayleen helping to keep the bandage steady as the demon continued to wrap the bandage around and around a few times before tearing the end off. Then he repeated it in a quicker fashion to Varhi’s arm, working efficiently and with expertise. Cyial had clearly done this multiple times before. “There… All done. Try to take it easy for a while, or those wounds may reopen. We don't want to have to stitch you back up again.”

“Thanks as always… This is starting to become like bonding moments between us.” Varhi smiled weakly.

“I really wish it wasn’t.” Cyial frowned. “I don’t want you to keep getting hurt. It’s always so seriously bad, too…”

“If it’s any consolation, it’s not too bad now that it’s over. I’m sure I’ll be feeling better in no time, especially thanks to you.” Varhi said softly, his tone very sincere. Still exhausted, he leaned back into the brace of the grip the others had on him, taking a moment to rest and recover from the ordeal. After a moment he continued, looking at Nayleen and Sairek. “Besides, you said we got all of our stuff back, so that means I can enjoy proper food again soon enough, right...?”

Sairek shook his head slowly. “No, I’m sorry... It’s been a week. I didn't get a real good look since I was in a hurry, but it's lots of the food has gone bad by this point, I’m afraid.” Varhi frowned at this news. “Some stuff is okay or is non-perishable. We won’t starve. It’ll be better than eating cattails, at least. We got most of our water flasks back, too, but we still need to refill those, most of them are empty...” Sairek paused, looking away thoughtfully for a moment. “I’m probably going to need to take a few hours to reassess our inventory and figure out what we really have. We may be on the water for a while... which is concerning, given the damage done to the ship. We don't even know if this thing is going to start sinking soon.”

“And I need to reassess the ship’s status… Right now I’m just moving us out of Masirean territory via the sail only, but depending on our inventory and the ship’s status, we should decide our next move for the long term... I don’t think this ship is going to make it very far, but the closest way out of Masirean territory from here is heading towards Kior...”

“Not Ceareste?” Nayleen asked.

Varhi shook his head. “The Cyvolta checkpoint is in the way between here and there—”

“...What checkpoint?” Nayleen questioned.

Varhi scratched the back of his head with his left arm. “It’s an island between Ceareste and Masirean, sort of has a settlement on it. Think of it like the islands we were intending to go to that are between Malodia and Masirean as the checkpoint between there, as an example.” Varhi answered. “However, there’s nothing between Masirean and Kior, the Ceareste one handles that as well since Cyvolta is the closest one between the two points.”

“I think I get it.” Nayleen nodded. "Basically, to get to Ceareste, we'd not only be going in the direction where border patrol is strongest, but we'd have to travel in a method that's non-linear to keep a wide berth from the Masirean patrols, right?"

“Yeah. We’d need to go around it. They’ll be looking to intercept us going to Ceareste and they’d be positioned to do it, too. This ship isn’t designed for combat and if it takes any more damage, we’ll be swimming with the fish before too long. Really, West is the only option we can go to... They will be able to intercept us going South and we can’t go back East, and North leads to nowhere. We have to go West and turn South after we out pace them and leave the border…”
Varhi paused, closing his eyes, his eyebrows creasing as he thought hard about their current predicament. “I think I can get us to travel faster than their ships even like this, but I don’t know how long both the engine and fuel will last. Or the ship. It can't stay on the water like this for days. If we escape the border though, we will be able to slowly sail to the mainland leisurely as long as I can stabalize the structure. Depending on how much food we have left to eat, anyway...” Varhi explained. "I can do... some work, but obviously I'm not the brilliant mind that Jimmy was to design this thing himself. I think I can stabilize the engines and prevent further damage short-term, enough to last us the voyage, but that's all..."

“So we should be finally safe at least…?” Cyial asked.

“Hopefully, but let’s save celebrations until we’re actually out of Masirean territory. We still have a lot of work to do… and I’m going to have to be out of commission again for a while in a bit...” Varhi cautioned him. "I know you just told me to take it easy, but stabilizing the ship is too important for me to post-pone. We can very much sink or completely lose the ability to move if I don't."

“Fair...” Cyial agreed without any argument, understanding the severity of the situation. He glanced down at his hands, covered in Varhi’s blood.

“Here,” Sairek offered, standing up, and motioning Cyial over with him, which the demon followed. They went over to the side of the deck where Varhi watched Sairek squirt water with his magic over Cyial’s hands to rinse them off of the blood, and then did the same for his tail before they returned. Cyial shook his hands in an attempt to flick the water off of them and get them dry again before pulling his gloves back on.

“Okay, get me up please… I must see the engine room…” Varhi grunted, moving to push himself up with his left hand, wincing as his right side protested a bit. Nayleen moved to help guide him, and he was on his two feet again, bracing himself against the pole that housed the ship’s sail. Nayleen bent down to pick up his equipment.

“Could you do me a favor and toss the armor in the basin inside the bathroom of the ship and dump the rest of the stuff into the captain’s room, please?” Varhi asked her, right hand gingerly placed onto his injured side as he braced himself with his left. “I’ll need someone to give the armor a good scrubbing again. Then I’m gonna need to repair it myself when I’m feeling better...”

“You know how to do that, too?” Sairek asked.

“Of course I do. Armor with tears or holes in it is no good otherwise. Since they left our stuff alone it seems, the rest of the equipment should still be on the ship too.” Varhi looked at Sairek. “A good mercenary knows how to maintain their gear. Without our gear, we die even easier. Take care of the gear and it will take care of you. Basic mercenary stuff...”

“Fair words to live by.” Nayleen agreed, walking over to also go and collect Varhi’s pot lid near the steering wheel. "But you don't need to do that. I can do it for you. I've worked with similar materials, it should be fine.

“Okay, thanks Nayleen. Then besides that, I will also need someone to stay up here and make sure we don’t crash into something. It should be open sea, but you never know when a random rock or something will show up or even another ship.” Varhi said. "With how compromised the ship is, I can't take the risk of us brushing up against anything else."

Cyial timidly raised his left hand. “I’ll do it. I can see better at night anyway and the rest of you should get to sleep soon. I just… need to steer, is that right?” He asked.

“Uh-huh. Turn the wheel to the left to go left, turn it right to go right. It will automatically correct to the center if you let go. You’re mostly just going to be standing watching, and it’ll be boring, but it’s an important job nonetheless.” Varhi explained. "If you do need to stop or slow down, just flick the lever up, and then hold it down. If you need to move forward, do the opposite; flick the lever down, and then hold up.

“Yeah, I can do that.” Cyial nodded.

“Thanks.” Varhi smiled a little, but it quickly faded. “If you see a threat, another ship or something like that though, come down to the engine room to get us immediately. Steering and starting and slowing the ship is pretty basic, but other functions require inputs from those levers that require more movements than just slowly pulling up or down on the lever. It can be complicated, and it's done that way by design so people can't just steal the ship without knowing how to drive it. Only Jimmy and I know how to properly control every facet of the ship, and I've put each combination into both mental and muscle memory.”

Cyial nodded. “Got it.”

"That must have been why it was still docked in Cyvolta, I'm assuming." Sairek hypothesized. "Jimmy probably didn't tell them how to drive the ship. It's probably why they forced him to drive to come back to pretend to rendezvous with us in Karvadean as well."

"I agree." Varhi nodded, then gestured with his head for Sairek and Nayleen to follow him, and they did. Varhi walked slowly, nearly limping, as to not agitate his right side too much. He waited for Nayleen to put his gear in the appropriate rooms before he led the way down the stairs slowly, using the wall on his left side to aid in steadying him. He heard their footfalls behind them as they descended down the metal steps, which he descended carefully until reaching the end.

The first bad sign was the fact he couldn’t see anything. The lights were off down here and aside from the light coming from the opening from the stairs above, it was pitch black. "Thankfully, there is an emergency lighting system for such failures," Varhi quipped while he groped the right side wall on the opposite end of the room until he found a switch and flipped it on with a flick.

...Aaaaand nothing.

"So much for that emergency." Sairek drawled.

“Pits…” Varhi groaned. “Well that’s not a good sign. There should be an emergency-emergency torch light somewhere—”

“Balinzer,” Sairek chanted dryly as he held his staff out.

Right. A mage was with him. One that could just create magic fire for light…

Sairek moved closer to Varhi and held out the flame on his staff to help the mercenary find what he was searching for. There were various tools for maintenance on the engine in the back of the engine room, locked in a large shelf, which thankfully had a door to seal it shut so if things ended up shaking like they had been, they wouldn’t fall all over the place. Varhi grunted with effort as he shoved the large door of a shelf open and quickly reached for a cylinder shaped object with his left hand. He gave it a few good shakes using his left arm before he clicked a button and a bright lime light beamed out at the end to wherever he pointed. It was much brighter than Sairek’s spell, at least to the area in focus, while Sairek’s helped illuminate all around their immediate vicinity. Varhi walked back towards the engine room, light scanning the walls as he slowly stopped, his face becoming mortified at the damage he was seeing.

The engine room was in absolute disarray. Gears, bolts and parts were scattered everywhere, there was steam coming from the running engine behind the levers. Thankfully the controls themselves were still fine and intact. Sairek and Nayleen followed him in, looking at the destruction. There were holes and dusk air was seeping through, chilling Varhi’s barren upper half a little. The occasional hard wave splashed misty droplets onto him, but not enough to really begin to put the ship in danger, though it might cause the outermost gears closest to the hall to be soaked by now, and those could rust in time.

“Well, fuck berries...” Varhi sighed.

“...That’s a new one,” Sairek lamented, “I am going to assume by your cursing that we’re in a bad way.”

“Not in as much of a bad way as my wallet will be to get all of this fixed.” Varhi replied as he sighed. "I don’t know if even what we have on us right now would be enough to repair even ten percent of the damage. This is the heart of the ship, and it’s basically half dismantled. We only have two of the four engines running, and one of those is barely hanging on. That’s why there’s steam coming out of it. I’m going to have to turn it off to preserve it. I guess we have it in case of emergency, at least if we need to get away in the case of pirates or patrols.” Varhi surmised, stepping up to the set of levers and pulling three of them down. The noise and gears noticeably lowered and slowed down, the pitch of the machinery at work lowering to almost a low rumble. Where before they were practically shouting, Varhi could speak normally and hear himself clearly. It almost felt too foreign to be on this ship when it was running and it being this easy to hear everything else clearly. “I might be able to get that engine fixed by myself, but I’m gonna need a fair bit of time.”

“You seriously know how to fix the ship?” Sairek asked. "Just looking at all of this stuff, I can't make heads or tails of anything..."

“Yes... and no. I can do some common stuff but obviously having cannonballs ripping through your hull is going to need more than a couple spare parts lying around and more knowledge than I know.” Varhi confessed. “Engine three and four are damaged beyond what I can do because the cannonballs practically destroyed them. They’re just… gone. They’ll practically have to be constructed from scratch.” Varhi tried to explain, gesturing at the two holes on both sides of the ship with the torchlight.
“Engine two…” Varhi continued pointing at the floor beneath them, “is doing fine. Engine one…” Varhi continued, pointing in front of them at the engine which had been billowing steam before he turned it off, “that’s the main engine and it needs repairs. That’s why none of the lights are working. And the back-up ones have just been blown apart, I guess. I can at least repair it enough to restore auxillery systems like the lights for our rooms and the fuel tank's replenishing system. That last one is important.”

“Main engine?” Nayleen asked for clarification.

“Engine one holds half of the speed. The other three engines make up the other half.” Varhi explained. "Engine one also holds a lot of the power that fuels the other systems to work like the fuel tank, the lights and all of that. The emergency lights usually work by themselves with a sort of battery, stored power from ethereal that's kept in a smaller, separate tank away from everything else, but apparently that trashed, too. Or Ethereal is leaking somewhere. Either way the engine needs to be fixed."

“So we’re basically at… twenty percent capacity?” Sairek asked, his face beginning to fall.

Varhi shrugged. “Well… yes and no. Engine power is basically twenty percent with whatever fuel we have left. We’re sure slow right now, I can’t argue with that, but the sail still works, and stacking four engines, even if one is the most powerful one is down, that doesn’t mean you go four times as fast. We’re probably going around ten knots right now, maybe a little less. For reference, even smaller sailboats are lucky to average five. We’re still making speed to out pace anything Masirean has as long as it doesn’t have an engine. Masirean technology isn’t very good compared to Kiorian technology, so I’m not worried even if they did have an engine. They'd be able to keep pace with us at best, and once we pass their jurisdiction, they'd have to go back."

Sairek looked relieved to hear that news, at least.

“So we’re probably getting away, we’re just not getting away to anywhere any time soon.” Nayleen supplied, crossing her arms together thoughtfully.

“That’s right. We'll probably be pursued until we're chased out of Masirean territory, at which point, there's nothing more they can do.” Varhi nodded. “If I can repair the engine to the point where I know it won't blow and run it at say... half power or so, we might go at about twenty knots if the wind is favorable. We’ll still be in the ocean for a couple of days at least. Of course, the fuel won’t hold forever. We’ll run out eventually, but because I disabled the other engines, that’ll be a while. I assume the tank has been collecting fuel while it’s just been docked and the fuel engine is still in tact considering the fact engine two is working, though the refueling mechanism is currently too damaged to work properly. Either way, the ship should have a full fuel tank by now. The fuel will last a little less than three days or so if we burn it at our current pace like this. We’ll be out of Masirean territory long before then.”

“So unless there’s something we haven’t planned for…” Nayleen began.

“Or the ship begins to sink.” Sairek added.

“Not an impossibility, I’ll be honest.” Varhi nodded. “Thankfully, Jimmy is a careful man. Being able to shut other components of the engine off and working individually rather than a collective unit of mechanisms relying on each other is a fail-safe he wanted in the design process, just for situations like these where one or more of the engines are compromised and we’re stranded at sea. It means we can keep using some of them even if not all of them are functioning.” Varhi explained, then sighed warily, leaning his weight a bit onto his left arm as reached out, grabbing the support of a wall.

“You’ve been through a lot today, Varhi and you’ve been up for nearly twenty-four hours and just lost a lot of blood on top of it... Why not take a bit of a rest first before working on this?” Sairek suggested to him.

“We can’t afford to have me rest right now.” Varhi frowned. “The sooner I get the repairs done, the sooner we can get out of here and the less risk there is of something that happens to the boat—and us. We’ll be out in the ocean for a couple days at least. I’ve got time to rest soon… but not right now. I need to get that core engine operating properly again, first.”

“Varhi, if you’re tired, your repair job will suffer because of it.” Sairek pressed.

“I know what I’m doing.” Varhi refused, pushing himself upright again and cupping his left hand under his right elbow, as if to rest the injured limb. “In fact, you two can even help me… It would save me a lot of time and work.”

“Uh-oh...” Sairek groaned.

Varhi chuckled. “Don’t be like that, Sairek~ It will give you a good look and understanding of some of the inner workings of Kiorian technology. I know you're curious.”

“Ah yes, I’m definitely looking forward to it.” Sairek replied dryly.

“If I knew any better, I would say my attitude is starting to rub off on you.”

“You’re just imagining it. Are you sure you don’t need to rest? You’re starting to say crazy things.” Sairek retorted.

Varhi smirked, but ignored his reply. “First things first before anything though, we need to clean this room up. I need both of you to help me collect all of these scattered parts that are left, preferably before anymore fall into the ocean. Mostly the gears, but any nuts and bolts you find, too. Someone should go grab a couple of the empty boxes in the rooms above and bring them down here so it’s easier to organize everything. One box for the gears, another box for everything else. We'll salvage what we can to get this engine back in operational shape before we take a very, very long nap.”

“I’ll get ‘em.” Nayleen volunteered immediately and began walking back up the stairs.

Varhi turned back around, examining the engine in more detail with the torchlight, and released a slow exhale.

This was going to take a lot of work...

* * *

An hour later, Sairek sighed, holding up the torch for Varhi as he had been watching the other boy either slide gears into places, replace one gear with a less damaged one, or screw in a nut or bolt here and there on the engine. He was going back and forth, occasionally turning the engine on for a few seconds to see how it ran before turning it off and going back to repairing it.

Sairek couldn’t tell if the repairs were going badly, or if Varhi was just in a lot of pain. Regardless, the expression on Varhi’s face after a little bit wasn’t a pleasant one, and had remained as such the entire time. He supposed the fact the other boy had to use his right arm to try and screw some things in would have given him lots of discomfort, but as he continued to watch, he looked down at Varhi’s side to see that the white linen of the bandage by now had begun to dye red considerably with blood. As Varhi turned around to reach for a gear, Sairek reached down with his hand holding the torch to clasp his arm gently to stop him. “That’s enough, Varhi.”

Varhi looked at him, blinking in confusion. “What do you mean…? I’m not finished yet. There’s still—”

“That’s enough.” Sairek pressed. “You need to rest now.”

“I’m not—”

“Don’t make me get the other two and drag you out of here. I will. You’re in no condition to stop us and you know it. And you know they will side with me on this.” Sairek replied, pointing with his staff at Varhi’s wounded side. “You keep losing more blood. Keep this up and you’re going to faint one way or another.”

“But I’m not done yet—!” Varhi growled, grasping his right side gently.

“Can’t you just put the engine at less than full power? With this much hull damage, surely twenty knots or whatever you said could cause issues anyway.”

Varhi was silent at that as he stared at Sairek.

“...Varhi?”

“Fuck…” The other boy cursed quietly to himself under his breath.

“...!!”
Sairek inhaled a sharp intake of breath through clenched teeth, dropping the torch light on the floor as he quickly bent down to catch Varhi who suddenly began to fall onto his side. Rather than keep him upright, Sairek leaned him down on the floor more gently. “Varhi? Varhi...!” He called out loud to the other boy, but he was given no response. Sairek gingerly glanced at the other boy’s side, seeing more blood was beginning to pool and dye more red at his side through the bandages, showing that the wound had been reopened, or perhaps opened deeper. “Shit… Why does he never listen??”

Sairek grunted, moving himself to grab underneath Varhi’s armpits to hoist the other boy’s upper body upright, and began to drag him like this slowly towards the stairs. “Cyial!? Nayleen–!!” He called out. He didn’t think Nayleen would hear, she had gone to bed. He didn’t know if Cyial would be able to hear him either because of the sounds of the ship, even with it being more muted in comparison as usual, it would still drown out noise in the distance.

“Cyial! Nayleen!! I need help! Please!!” He desperately called out to his friends again as he got closer to the stairs. He wouldn’t be able to drag Varhi up the stairs alone, nor carry him without risking more damage to the wound. Thankfully he heard thudding footsteps overhead of him, and looked up to see Cyial moving down the stairs with hastened steps.

“I heard you. What happ— Ohhh… No, no no...” Cyial groaned, not pausing in descending the stairs. In the last couple of steps, he jumped down over the railing and landed on the other side, stumbling a bit forwards and bracing himself against the wall to stop his momentum before pushing himself away and bending down to examine Varhi. “Yggdrasil give me strength, I knew he would push himself like this even after I warned him…!”

“Is it that bad?” Sairek asked, with growing apprehension.

“...No, I’m just pissed off." Cyial sighed. "I have to sew up the wound again. Why do patients never listen to someone’s orders...?” He grumbled. "Dammit, he reopened the wound again, didn't he? If he'd just... lay down and freakin' rest, I swear...!"

“O-Oh.” Sairek never really heard Cyial like this before, though he understood the agitation and frustration perfectly well.

“Come on, I’ll hold his legs.” Cyial sighed, reaching down to grab each of the limbs. Sairek nodded and grabbed the other boy’s arms, and slowly and carefully, they began carrying him up the stairs, going slowly as the stairs were fairly steep, and their curving nature wasn’t helping. It was even more awkward for Sairek, still holding onto his staff. He didn't trust leaving it down here where it could possibly tumble and roll off into the ocean.

“These definitely weren’t designed with medical in mind…” Sairek grunted.

“Or carrying much of anything, really…” Cyial huffed. “Put him in the Captain’s room. It’s closest, and it was already open when I ran down here. Bigger bed for him to lay his stubborn ass down, too.”

“Yeah, I didn’t really think to close it when I was getting the bandages and checking if our stuff was there.” Sairek continued to grunt. “Half way…”

Eventually after a couple more minutes, they managed to get Varhi onto the upper floor, and carry him over to the Captain’s room, which had its own bed which wasn’t a bunk bed, but a double sized bed. Perfect to put Varhi onto and have lots of space. Both Prince and demon moved to settle him onto the bed, though Sairek kept Varhi upright so Cyial could undo the bandages around Varhi’s waist to take a look at the wound. “Ah, dammit… The stitches have become undone indeed…”

“That’s what I feared it was. He’d been sitting the entire time but he was turning around a lot or getting up and repositioning himself.” Sairek sighed. "Here, let me get something to act as a towel or something so the bed won't get messy from this," he offered. He looked around the room, spotting curtains for a window, and tugged on that to use. Cyial lift Varhi back up temporarily so Sairek could lay it out underneath him to shield the b

“I ought to tie him to the damn bed so he can’t get up anymore after this.” Cyial grunted, still airing his frustration. Kneeling down, he used the rest of the clean part of the bandage to wipe the blood away as much as he could, before pulling off his gloves and readying the needle and thread again. “Set him down and go find me another set of bandages to use, please. I know Nayleen made us grab a lot in Thalnar. At least he shouldn’t squirm this time if he’s unconscious. so I'll re-suture the wound back up while you look.”

“S-Sure…” Sairek agreed, gently placing Varhi down on the bed. “There needs to be more food and water somewhere on this ship. Jimmy wouldn’t sail with absolutely nothing, surely.” He continued, as he went over to the corner of things he had laid out before when Avotash had basically forced him to.


Cyial sighed. “We’ll have to look later. For now, I need to handle this, then continue steering the ship. And you need to rest, too.”

“You also need to rest.” Sairek deflected.

“I know… I’ve been up for a long time. I'm starting to feel sleepy too which almost never happens, but I can manage to stay up for a few more hours until everyone else has slept first. I’m not as bad as the rest of you all probably are, you’ve all been up for nearly twenty four hours by now. Sunrise will be in less than two hours, Sairek.”

Sairek moved to place a fresh roll of bandages to Cyial’s right near Varhi’s head, to which the demon mumbled his thanks, threading the needle and thread into Varhi’s wound again. Like Cyial said, the other boy didn’t even react much, though there were a few muscle twitches and a soft groan of pain that came from him. Despite this, it was clear to Sairek that Cyial was trying to use as much finesse as possible with this, but still also quick, to stop the bleeding as soon as possible.
Without Varhi flailing in pain this time though, Cyial made much quicker work, only taking a couple of minutes. He wiped the blood again with the other bandage one last time, and Sairek moved to slowly sit a limp Varhi upright again so Cyial could roll the fresh bandage around him again and again firmly. When he was done, Sairek set Varhi back down on the bed to let him rest.

”Here.” Sairek offered as Cyial looked down at his bloody hands again. Sairek raised his right hand, concentrating energy into his gloves. “Waert,” he murmured softly, causing a controlled dribbling of water to spray gently on Cyial’s hands to rinse them off.

“Thanks again…” Cyial said, a weariness in his voice. “I hope the ship is fast enough to get away…”

“Well, they haven’t caught up to us yet. I think for the moment we can take a breather. We certainly aren’t in hiding anymore, though. We need to get ready for anything. They know which direction we’re headed.” Sairek said, glancing at Varhi for a moment. “I need to go back downstairs and put everything in a safe place so it won't risk tumbling into the ocean I’ll come back and watch him until I fall asleep.”

“But that’ll be uncomfortable for you. You need proper rest too, Sairek.”

Sairek shook his head. “I’ll just grab one of the sleeping bags and snooze next to the bed. I can tell even that will let me pass out quickly… I’m beat, Cyial. We’ve been walking and running and have been apprehensive for pretty much since yesterday morning. Like you said, it's been nearly twenty-four hours.”

“Right, I guess we have that stuff now, may as well make use of it. Alright…” Cyial conceded, giving one last, long look at Varhi. “Hopefully he stays down and out for a while… No offense to him, but…” Cyial paused, then shook his head. “No... I’ll save my words for when he’s better and awake. Go downstairs Sairek; I’ll stay here and prepare the bedding for you at least.”

“...Thanks Cyial.”

Sairek stepped out of the door and walked his way back down to the engine room. He placed his staff at the top of the stairs before descending, then began the process of dragging boxes of parts and mechanical supplies away from the engine so they didn’t slide around or out of the room as well if the ship got particularly bouncy for some reason. After he did that, he took a moment to examine out through one of the holes. Though the sun hadn’t risen yet, the night sky wasn’t total darkness anymore and the twinkle of the stars were fading. He could see warm hues from the sky in the east, and the sky was a dark blue. It was probably somewhere between four or five in the morning. He’d probably be asleep until the early afternoon at minimum, barring no interruptions. The day had started off calm, but it had become nothing but a frantic adrenaline-filled rush for absolute survival for hours until now. They still technically were not even out of that danger yet... It was still pursuing them.

Stepping back upstairs and grabbing his staff again, Sairek was more than ready for sleep, he relieved his bladder first now that he had the chance to before he stepped into the Captain’s room again. He saw that Cyial hadn’t grabbed the sleeping bag at all. Instead, he had grabbed an entire mattress from one of the beds in a spare room and laid that down on the floor next to the Captain’s bed to which Varhi was unconscious on, complete with a pillow and blankets. “I thought I’d surprise you a little.” Cyial grinned slightly.

Sairek smiled back. “That’s better than what I had planned.”

Cyial moved and wrapped his arms around Sairek tightly in a hug, and Sairek returned the gesture back. They stood in their embrace for a handful of seconds. “We’ll get through it, Cyial.” Sairek said quietly.

 Cyial gently nodded against him. “Yeah… We’re almost there. I’ll try to keep track of the time so Varhi has a rough idea of where we are when he wakes up.” He pulled away then, looking Sairek over briefly with a sad smile. “We both must look pretty terrible right now…”

Sairek looked down at himself, at his tabard stained with Varhi’s blood which had dried by now,, and miserably caked with dirt. Cyial’s clothes looked no better than his. Hair equally as disheveled which he assumed his own hair was, too. “Well… we’ll deal with that after we wake up, if we’re granted some peace finally.”

“Okay, I should stop keeping you… Try to sleep well, Sairek.”

“Yeah…Thanks Cyial. I love you.”

Cyial gave Sairek one last quick hug to reciprocate the affection, then he pulled back, walking towards the door. He gave Sairek a final glance, then closed the door gently, sealing it shut with the valve. Sairek turned back around, looking at Varhi’s unconscious form. He didn’t have a peaceful expression on his face, even unconscious, the other boy’s face was in a grimace, but there was nothing else they could do for him now, and Sairek himself was at the end of his fatigue. Each passing second made the mattress Cyial lay out for him even harder to resist laying on.

In silence, he disrobed his upper half, putting his shirt and the rest of his accessories that was adjoined to it at the foot of the mattress on the floor. As tired as he was, sleeping with Varhi's blood stained on his clothing was a very uncomfortable thought. He kicked off his shoes and snuggled himself under the cover of the blanket. He wasn’t really cold, but the comforting security of the soft fabric was something he needed after so many days without one and he needed it for his peace of mind. He almost felt normal again like this…

...Almost.


He never thought he’d experience a day where he was homesick, but here he was. He missed the safety of his overly large bed back in his room at the castle… but with the other royal jewel in his shirt pocket, he knew that his return to there was probably sooner rather than later at this rate whether that be a good or a bad thing, and he wondered if he would even be able to leave the room any time soon, as he imagined how his father may respond to what he did; no matter what excuse for justifying why.

Such troubled thoughts would have made it impossible to sleep, were he not in such an exhausted state, but despite them, Sairek felt himself quickly drifting into an uneasy but deep sleep in mere moments anyway.

* * *

Sairek woke up multiple times in the next several hours, waking only briefly before rolling over on the mattress and falling back to sleep. On the third time he woke up, Cyial had actually joined him in the bed, and he merely snuggled up against him. The added security of his presence made his fourth time falling asleep much easier and much longer.
The fourth time he woke up was the last, but even though he felt himself slowly stirring, he didn’t really move for what felt like an hour or so. It was a slow wake up, one where he was comfortable and finally felt safe and relaxed, even if that was perhaps just an illusion in his mind. He felt the front of his body spooning the smaller demon in front of him, his right arm draped over Cyial and holding him gently and he just wanted to stay like that. Cyial, similarly, was snuggled up against his hold, snoring quietly; and Sairek knew the demon barely made any noise but this was the deepest sleep he heard Cyial be in ever, signaling how tired the other boy had genuinely been.

Though he lay like this for an hour or so, he did gently doze back into a light nap a couple of times for several minutes. However, his bladder was beginning to protest again and he was forced to concede, if at least temporarily, the safety of the mattress bed and blankets. Slowly, he shifted himself away from Cyial without trying to disturb him, shimmying his way out and stepping over the other boy who didn’t even budge from his movements. He once more went to the bathroom and went over to the small sink and poured water from the tap to wash his face, hands and try to fix his hair. It unfortunately didn’t offer any heat though, so all the water was cold.

When he was done, he stepped back into the room, then hesitated as he eyed the bed Varhi had been on to see it was empty. With a frown, he closed the door again and wandered his way downstairs, having a good idea of where the other boy predictably had gone off to.
Sairek’s guess was correct. With daylight pouring in from the holes in the hull, the engine room was fairly illuminated now. Sairek covered his bare chest with his arms as best as he could at the gusts of fresh air freely flowing down here, especially because his body was still a bit damp from him quickly washing himself as best he could with cold water the bathroom sink, but regardless he stepped forward as Varhi was once more kneeling in front of the engine, in the middle of turning a screwdriver to twist in a bolt in the tangled mass of gears that was located in the back. “Just what the Blazes do you think you are doing? You should still be in bed resting.” Sairek scolded with as much authority he could in his voice. "Just how long has it been since you've crept off to be doing this, Varhi?"

“Relax, I feel better now. And I’m almost done. I’m just putting in the last finishing touches.” Varhi claimed. He finished screwing the bolt in, having the two boxes Nayleen and Sairek collected parts in on either side of him as he knelt down. He glanced towards Sairek, eyeing him over for a moment. “It’s almost evening, you know. You pretty much slept the whole day.”

“I was tired, and you were worse than me, so even more reason for you to get back to bed and some more rest.” Sairek chastised.

Varhi smiled at him. “I’ll be a good boy soon—after the engine is fixed. When I finish, our safety from Masirean should be secured as long as the weather behaves.”

“Varhi… What would happen if you would had passed out again alone down here?” Sairek sighed, but he already recognized he wasn’t going to get anywhere with the other boy. Sairek knew that he himself was stubborn, but Varhi was on a whole different level. If this was how some people at the castle saw him, he owed them all a heart-felt apology once he got back.

"...Aaaand got it! Finally...!" Varhi let out a relieved exhale. "This should do it."
He leaned forward, raising his arm to push the switch into position, then withdrew back, waiting. Sairek stood, listening and watching as he heard the ship begin to roar... more to life? Varhi was staring intently forward, eyes centered on the part he had repaired as it began to move and pump, gears around it spinning. He pumped his fist in triumph. "Man, that's giving me goosebumps. I rule."

"...That's probably from you being shirtless in the middle of the misty ocean spray that's blowing in here, Varhi. It sure is giving me goosebumps and I'm standing all the way over here." Sairek retorted dryly.

There was a sudden snap, and Varhi quickly leaned off to one side as some part snapped out in his direction, although it fell short and landed right in front of him. Then another part popped off, and the noise of the engine began to sound weird.

Varhi pushed himself slowly and carefully with a grunt as he angrily shoved the lever back down. At least Sairek could see that the wound hadn’t reopened. Varhi walked over to him, then past him, going to the back behind the spiraling stairs as he opened a back cabinet, rummaging through supplies before he pulled out a long, large black cylinder with a chrome top about a foot long and four inches thick in diameter. “Alright, how about this instead... Do you fancy some dinner?”

Sairek slowly blinked at him owlishly.

“Yes? No?” Varhi pressed.

“...What is it?”

“This is a ration from Kior.” Varhi explained, turning the cylinder in his grip so Sairek could get a look at it from all angles, but it was still just a cylinder. “You like mashed potatoes, right? Everyone does. You can boil 'em, mash 'em, use them in a stew...”

“...Sure, but… wouldn’t potatoes be rotten by now?” Sairek questioned. "I thought ration food was designed to last."

“You're half right! Wanna see how it works?”

“You’ve got me curious, I admit.” Sairek agreed, albeit, reluctantly.

“Cool.” Varhi replied, reaching back into the cabinet to pull out a small metal… thing. It was shaped like an L. “This is called an Allen Key.” He replied, as if reading Sairek’s mind, showing it to him. Then he turned the cylinder upside down. “First, you pull this latch here near the bottom and turn it upside down. Water is in the bottom part of this thing and dried potato flakes in the rest of the container to keep them from spoiling, so the water will rehydrate them and make the dried flakes like mashed potatoes.” Varhi explained, demonstrating as he did just that. Then he pushed the latch back in again after a few seconds.
“Give it a good few seconds of shaking like this,” he continued, shaking the container in his left hand, before resting the cylinder back upright, then turning the top to face Sairek. “There’s three holes you poke this into, then after you do that, you just pull at the ring pull in the middle here, and the food will heat up automatically in a few minutes. You just stick a fork or spoon in and stir. Then pour it out after five minutes. That’s it. You can add butter or milk to it if it’s available… but we don’t have any, so it’ll taste a little bland, but at least spices are in the flakes as well. Oh, and the best part of this little can? No magic is involved.”

“No magic?” Sairek blinked.

“Nope. Just good ‘ol science and ingenuity.” Varhi grinned, handing the Allen Key and cylinder to Sairek. “Go on, give it a try. My right arm is a bit knackered still to really push the key in that hard, so I’ll need you to do it. Push the longer bit into those three points. You can sit and do it on the floor so it’s easier.”

Sairek followed that advice, sitting cross-legged on the ground with the cylinder inside his legs as he took the key and shoved hard into reach of the three points as deep as the key would allow. Then he hooked his middle finger underneath the ring pull, giving a glance to Varhi for confirmation who nodded. He pulled, peeling the top of the container off to look inside to see that there was, indeed, mashed potatoes inside the cylinder. Varhi reached back into the cabinet, pulling out a fork which he tossed to Sairek, who caught it against his chest, wincing as the utensil poked him a little. Sairek began to stir firmly with the fork, and within two minutes, the can was hot to the touch, with a gentle steam beginning to billow out of it and into his face whenever he stared directly down into the can. He was still feeling a bit chilled, so he welcomed the heat.

“You’re seriously saying this isn’t magic?” Sairek asked as he continued to stir.

“Yup. It’s called a hot can. Punching the key into the holes releases chemicals that cause the can to heat up to the point that the food inside can be cooked or heated for a few minutes. Notice how spongy it feels?” Varhi asked. Sairek squeezed the can test, which caused Varhi to smirk. “That spongy texture helps insulate the can to keep the heat inside for longer.”

Sairek looked down at the can, pausing in his stirring. “Why not just use magic, though? Surely that’s easier to make…?”

“Is it? Magic is renewable but it’s still finite, Sairek. Not to mention, good quality ethereal is an expensive commodity, let alone having to create a catalyst to cast the magic in the first place. All of that just to rehydrate some dried mashed potatoes in a can and reheat? Why do that when some gases and pushing a key into three holes is good enough?” Varhi questioned, to which Sairek had no answer.
“Well, it should be ready now.” Varhi shrugged, reaching back into the cabinet to grab a plate bowl for the Prince and handed it to him. “Just pour it out, make sure to give it a good shake and scrape the edges with the fork to get everything out.”

Sairek turned the cylinder upside down again, shaking it so the contents plopped out onto the plate, eventually scraping the fork inside to get the rest out as Varhi advised. When he finished, he looked down onto the plate to see the steamy pile of mashed potatoes in front of him. It was… something, he supposed, but severely lacking. It wasn’t even made properly with milk or butter, but then again, it wasn’t cattails, or worms, or unseasoned deer for nearly three days straight, and it was done and heated for him in as little as five minutes.

“...This is the kind of food you usually eat, don’t you.” Sairek declared dryly.

"...Maybe."

"Varhi..." Sairek sighed.

“Well, not around these parts, I haven't, but back in Kior, yeah. These don’t really go bad. They last a very, very long time. That’s the main benefit from them. And it doesn’t taste that bad by itself. You shake it, poke a few holes, wait a couple minutes and it’s ready to eat. If you have other things, you can mix it in with other stuff to make a reasonably decent meal... so... y'know...? It's kind of flexible. It can taste good in the right circumstances, I promise! It's not like we've got anything better and no where to cook.”

Sairek scooped the fork into the pile of mashed potatoes and blew on what he gathered on the fork gently a few times to cool it before he sunk the utensil into his mouth. His face twisted slightly and he slowly blinked. The taste wasn’t bad per se'. It was just weak and had him wishing he had the real thing more than anything else. There were spices in there, but they diluted and weren’t as strong as they should be.
However, he supposed for the purposes of filling one’s stomach if that’s the only thing you cared about, it would work.

“Regrettably, they’ll do to bribe me to keep my mouth shut about your escape for now since I'm starving... If you hurry.” Sairek sighed, scooping another forkful and cooling that too before plopping it into his mouth and swallowing again soon after. As much as the taste left to be desired, his stomach was at least content with getting something that wasn't pulled directly from the earth itself right now. He was much more than a little hungry. If Varhi was right that he had slept all day, then it had been nearly an entire day since he last ate yet again, and his stomach was feeling it.

Varhi wordlessly walked back to the engine as Sairek ate and the Prince watched the other boy work, shifting his seated position to get a better angle to watch as he tackled the food on his plate with unusual haste even for him. Varhi didn’t work long, screwing in a few more bolts and setting in a gear, then screwing in a few more bolts again before he stood up and pulled one of the levers slightly, observing how the gears rolled as he stood by at the control panel. He let it go slowly at first before turning it up higher, allowing the engine to work faster, until he pushed the lever as far as it would go, and thus the engine. The increase of the noise emanating throughout the ship more than doubled as the main engine stirred to life once more. Varhi’s expression twisted into a confident smirk. “Hah, I knew I could fix it! For real this time! ...With a few... um, compromises. You can feel the wind now, can’t you Sairek?”

At the mention of that, Sairek settled down his now empty plate into his lap and wrapped his arms around himself, hugging his front to try and protect it from the breeze. “A little too much…” he grumbled, though he wasn’t sure Varhi could hear him over the constant clanking of gears. “Who’s steering the ship anyway? Cyial is asleep, so… Nayleen?”

“Got it in one.” He replied, bending down to pick up Sairek’s silverware with his left hand. Sairek pushed himself up onto his feet, dusting his bottom off with his hands. “I admit, this isn’t fuel efficient, but with this we’ll be out of Masirean’s borders before tomorrow morning. I doubt they will pursue us beyond that. We can slow down again after that.”

“Yeah, well, we will have Kior to deal with as well. I don’t think they will appreciate us just blasting through into their borders via the ocean. Unlike Masirean, I know enough from boring diplomatic talks that they have the manpower and technology to keep a tight lid on that kind of thing. We’ll be noticed quite quickly.” Sairek warned. “How are we going to be able to convince them not to arrest us for illegal entry? My identity may not be enough.”

“Well, the ship is of Kiorian design, so that might help. It’s also pretty busted. It’s a genuine emergency.” Varhi mused thoughtfully. “Well, I suppose to properly answer your question, there are things you can do to communicate by boat, via signals and stuff. Don’t worry about it too much. I’ll handle it. They have no reason to sink us down as long as we behave and follow instructions once they eventually intercept our approach. It's not like they're looking for excuses to sink every ship that enters their waters, you know. Once we are sure we're in their borders and I let ourselves be obvious, it should be fine.”

“It’s not that I’m worried about. Ceareste and Kior haven’t been on good terms lately. Not anything to go to war over, but…” Sairek trailed off, looking away slightly. “They definitely won’t appreciate what I’ve done and then dragging them into this…”

“Ah, I see. Politics, eh?”

“It's... not quite that. The relationships between the two countries have soured greatly once my mother got sick... It also doesn't help that Kior won’t stop putting people past other countries’ borders themselves; mostly ours though. It’s one thing when a civilian sneaks through like Nayleen. It’s another story when the military does it; or, at least attempts to. Especially a group of them, multiple times.” Sairek explained. “Theoretically, I’m doing it back to them. Being the Prince automatically makes me part of the military, though I’m clearly no spy nor am I trying to disguise myself...”

“Hmm. Well, we can’t alter course now. We went slow for so long, they surely have the south border cut off by now to Ceareste. Don’t worry about it, like I said, I’ll handle it. You can even give the jewel to me if you want, and I’ll take the fall for it.” Varhi offered.

Sairek looked away uncomfortably. “I… can’t do that to you... It’s my responsibility. I’m the one who did it. It would be a lie. I don’t think lying would be a good idea later down the line. Besides, given who I am, it'd be obvious you're just taking the blame.”

Varhi shrugged with his left shoulder. “Come on, let’s get you dressed and see what’s happening above.” He offered, leading the way back to the stairs, depositing the silverware back into the cabinet for now.

“Speaking of clothes… I don’t suppose there’s somewhere to wash them on this ship?” Sairek asked.

“No, sorry. The idea of the ship was designed for quick transport, even with long distances. Honestly, the amount of food and supplies we have here isn’t a lot. It will only hold us for a couple of days. Some of it has been used, too, so there’s even less. That said, it’s the ocean, so there’s tools to fish with and a very basic small kitchen. It’s more of a last resort, or to prepare to eat any perishables on hand first before digging into the ration supply.”

“There’s not even a shower?”

“Nope.”

“Ughh…”

“Oh relax. The more disheveled you look the more believable our story will be!” Varhi snorted.

"Oh yeah, with your blood on my clothes? I won't look like a crazed maniac or something." Sairek huffed sarcastically.

"What do you mean? It's my blood, and I'm clearly injured! It's not hard to put two and two together." Varhi rebutted.

"...Whatever. I'll just do the best I can with magic." Sairek sighed, following Varhi as he climbed up the stairs with Sairek tightly behind him. When they made it back up to the upper floor, Sairek quietly entered the captain’s room and dressed in the rest of his clothes, giving another look to Cyial who, despite the increase in noise, still seemed to remain deep in his slumber. Cyial must have either just gotten to bed by the time he woke up, or the demon had been even more tired than he had already been letting on.

Out in the hallway, Varhi just stepped out in the bathroom as he stepped out of the captain’s room. Varhi gestured to him to lead the way to the deck, so he did. Once outside, he took a brief survey around himself. The sky was starting to turn pink as it closed in towards evening, dotted by clouds mostly silhouetted in the sky by the sun’s rays. Nayleen stood at the steering wheel, her now short hair flowing freely in the wind much like Sairek’s cape was when the gusts of wind hit it when he stepped out into the open as he scanned the horizon for anything of note, but there was only just ocean around them.

“Main engine is fixed!” Varhi announced their arrival as he stepped past Sairek. His voice caused Nayleen to turn around and grin at them. “Hey! Good morn—evening, Sai!” She greeted him. Sairek raised his right hand to return the greeting.

“Everything still good up here?” Varhi asked.

“Uh-huh. Just dodging a couple of things here and there. No trouble so far.” Nayleen reported.

Varhi stepped over to the left side and leaned over the railing, looking down for a moment, then pulled himself back upright. “Yup, that’s about fifteen to twenty knots. We’ll definitely hit the border before the morning at this speed.” He said, walking back over. “Probably about eight hours from now or so.”

Sairek didn’t try to hide his apprehensive look. “I guess I should try to distract myself by taking inventory of what we have, then. ...Are we keeping the life boat? If we are, I’m going to have to be careful with what I select. I can’t carry much else with it.”

“You can probably leave the life boat here for now. We can always come to pick it up later if we need it.” Varhi said. “Just keep in mind that by now it’s the only lifeboat the ship has left.

Sairek nodded, then glanced back towards Nayleen. “I bet this isn’t how you thought you’d return home, is it?”

She shook her head, then consciously grasped the back of her head. “Man, my parents are gonna be so mad with what I did with my hair.”

Sairek blinked owlishly at her. “I… I think your hair is probably the least of their concerns Nayleen. You’ve snuck out and haven’t been back in… how long?” She shrugged nonchalantly, causing Sairek to release a sigh in response. “Oh well. It’s not like I have the right to criticize…” There was a moment of silence, before he continued again. “Well, I’ll check the inventory now. I hope I don’t wake Cyial up by accident, though.”

“With this noise from the ship I would be surprised if he’s still asleep. If he is, he must have been extremely tired.” Nayleen mused.

Sairek shrugged as he turned around, walking away from them. “He’s usually a light sleeper but he’s pretty heavy this time.” He replied in departure, making his way back inside the ship and towards the captain’s room again. Although probably unnecessary, he tried to open the door into the door room quietly, then shut it back up against behind him.

Cyial was still definitely asleep, but as he tip-toed his way closer, he could see that his sleep was starting to get restless. It wouldn’t be much longer before he awoke. Sairek left him alone though, and made his way towards the pile of items that he had originally put behind the table in the chair he had been bound to and began the long arduous task of sorting items out and removing the spoiled food from the pile. A lot of them were beginning to smell fairly rancid as he worked. Food spoiled much slower inside the pocket dimension of the jewel because it was practically a vacuum in there. Left out on the ship, they were beyond their expiry date for sure.

A lot of items were simple. The sleeping bags, tents they had purchased in Thalnar, the extra camping equipment for Karvadean, all of their flasks and vials, though many were empty by now, Cyial’s supply of herbs and medicinals, Fuyiki’s book was even here. He still had the diary from Karvadean in his actual clothes, so thankfully Avotash had no chance of taking that from him. He gave it a couple more looks over while they were camping and trying to survive out of sheer boredom, but there had been no real additional information to glean from it, but he supposed when presenting his case to the council, it would be used as evidence to validate their claims they had actually gone there and could collaborate what they saw.

However, he didn’t know if presenting this to the council would even do anything. At best it may absolve him of his reason to "technically" trespass, thus averting him being the instigator for a war if it came down to that. That’d stop bad public opinion of him and Ceareste and put it on Masirean, sure… but that did open a whole slew of other issues, such as the fact everyone would know of such power that was lying dormant underneath Karvadean. The corruption needed to be stopped though, and it’s not like they could do it alone. Not in Masirean territory with Avotash constantly monitoring the area. If he didn’t know something special was there before, he definitely did now. If Avotash could somehow harness that power, it could lead to a different disaster in itself. The council was created and funded by all four nations to be neutral, but it’s not like they could stop a country from going to war. They were merely an unbiased voice of reason and protectors of Yggdrasil. That was it. They would only act if the corruption threatened the existence of Yggdrasil itself. Even after presenting his case, as far as preventing anyone from trying to obtain the secrets of Karvadean’s mines, they would be back to square one...

“Ugh, what do I do…?” Sairek sighed to himself, mechanically just sorting items by this point. The task of checking inventory and taking stock of what they had, has been pushed to the subconscious level as his fears and concerns took the forefront of his thoughts. He wished he never took the stupid royal jewel from Avotash. It didn’t even benefit him. All it did in the end was look bad on him and piss the man off even more. Of course, in the heat of the moment, he hadn’t been thinking. The man tried to take the Ceareste jewel first so he had simply retaliated back and then, unfortunately he realized, succeeded.

Yeah… he could have handled this whole situation a lot better in hindsight… and it was driving him mad. Even after all of this was over, he was dreading having to head back home… and he would have to head back home. His father was going to have an absolute fit with him. No way would he be allowed to leave the castle easily, contract or not.

Sairek was pulled out of his thoughts as he felt arms moving to wrap around him from behind. There was a brief moment of being startled alert but he relaxed, feeling it was Cyial. Seeing that the Prince was no longer drowning in his thoughts, Cyial spoke softly into his left ear. “You were just staring down in the corner for a while…”

“I got lost in my thoughts…” Sairek replied back. "...Again."

“They must have been pretty bad ones. The look on your face was as if you were horrified.”

“...Something like that, yeah.”

Cyial gave him a reassuring squeeze in his arms. “It’ll be okay, Sairek. We’ll make it through it. That's what you said to me last night, right?”

“But after all of this is done... “ Sairek paused, then let out a sad chuckle. “My father is going to be pissed and so disappointed in me.”

“I’ll come visit. I’ll change my schedule to be the one to deliver the ethereal to Marid personally, just to see you.”

“I don’t think he’ll allow me visitors. He probably would think at this point that you guys are a bad influence.” Sairek chuckled weakly again.

“I’ll come see you using Nayleen’s method, then. I’ll get her to teach me her ways.” Cyial joked.

“Oh gosh…” Sairek cracked a faint smile, leaning into the comfort of Cyial’s form. “When they find out about the both of us, it’s going to be even harder…”

Sairek felt Cyial stiffen slightly, but he soon relaxed again, quiet for a moment. “...I guess I don’t like the idea of having to be secretive and hiding it either, but that may be even more difficult for the both of us than even the whole Karvadean thing…” he murmured.

“It certainly will be, but it’s better to get everything all out of the way at once, I think.” Sairek mumbled. “Public opinion about me is already going to be bad. May as well not drag it out.” He drawled.

“Before that time comes, can you do me a favor?” Cyial asked.

“What is it?”

“Let me at least be able to be there with you before you break the news to your father… so I can at least show him how devoted I am to you? Or, attempt to anyway.”

Sairek moved to hold one of Cyial’s hands, which was wrapped around Sairek’s form near his tummy tightly. He nodded slowly in agreement. He gently squeezed Cyial’s hand, and the demon returned the gesture back.

“I’m going to miss you, Cyial…”

“I will miss you too, Sairek… but we will be back together soon enough after all of it is over. I’ll make sure of it. It may not be everyday as it has been like right now… It may be down to once a week or something, but if you can’t come visit me, then I’ll just come visit you. I’ll make sure of it. And if I have to sit outside the castle walls and communicate with you telepathically while you are trapped in your bedroom, then that is what I will do.”

Sairek nodded slowly, not trusting his voice right now. He gently turned around slightly, leaning the majority of his weight into Cyial. The comfort of his best friend was just what he needed right now to try and balance the numerous nervous thoughts running around in his head.

“...Can we go back to bed?” Sairek asked quietly.

“Are you sleepy again?” Cyial asked.

Sairek shook his head slowly. “No… But… I think I need to—to rest… right now… I can't even focus on doing the simple task of taking inventory. My mind is mush...”

Cyial nodded his understanding, and shifting their positions, they crawled back over to the makeshift bed on the floor. Though he wasn’t cold, Sairek pulled the blanket over top of them both, because it made him feel just a little bit more safe. He nestled inside of it, pressing himself against Cyial who again, wrapped his arms around Sairek and held him close. The demon could feel Sairek’s form shivering slightly, which concerned him.

“Sairek…” Cyial began, pausing for a moment. “It’s okay to be nervous, just take a little bit to calm down, okay?”

“Y-Yeah…” Sairek whispered, pressing his face into Cyial’s chest. He felt the demon move slightly, and he felt that rubbing Cyial always did against his back to try and calm him down. He didn’t know why Cyial did that, or why he thought it calmed him down… but he recognized the gesture by now and what its purpose was, and that ironically did start helping to calm him down whenever he was embarrassed or upset. “Sorry… I don’t know why… I’m like this suddenly… I just began thinking about what’s happening in the next few hours… and what that could mean in the future… and I—”

“I know…” Cyial interrupted him to stop him from going on a frantic ramble. “You’re beginning to have a nervous breakdown. It’s okay, Sairek. You are under a lot of pressure right now… Just take a while to relax, okay? It’s still many hours before we have to move. So let’s just spend the time we have together, okay?”

“O-Okay…” Sairek sighed, closing his eyes.

* * *

Sairek didn’t know when he fell asleep again. He had been awake for a couple of hours, just resting with Cyial, but eventually he had dozed off into a thankfully, rather peaceful sleep again. He must have been more exhausted mentally than he thought if he had managed to do that. However, when he woke up again, Cyial was not in the bed with him, but it was obvious he was in the room, as was Varhi in fact. Sairek slowly sat up, rubbing his eyes, peeking out from under his knuckles to observe what was happening.
It seemed like Cyial was just doing a routine check on Varhi’s wounds and replacing the bandages, though as Sairek’s vision cleared, he saw the demon wore a frown on his face as he looked at Varhi’s side where he was sliced.

“...I don’t understand…” Cyial said, his voice having an undertone with a growl.

Varhi shrugged. “You keep saying that every time. I told you, I’m stubborn.”

Cyial blinked a few times with a quick shake of his head. “Varhi, it’s not normal. Even healing magic, as rare as it is, doesn’t work this fast. How—I don’t understand.” He stammered.

Again, Varhi shrugged. “It’s always been like this, as far as I can remember anyway. Everyone has something about them that makes them unique. Maybe mine is just being a glutton for punishment?”

“You studied the human body and its systems, right?”

“Uh-huh.”

“So you should know just as much as I do that you recovering from wounds this quickly is abnormal, Varhi.”

“Well, what do you want me to say?” Varhi asked, his tone sounding slightly confrontational. “It is what it is. I don’t control it. I can’t make myself heal slower just to appease what you find to be a normal speed.”

Cyial frowned. “Your strength abnormal, too.”

“What does that mean?” Varhi sighed. “I work out all the time, you know. When Jimmy found me, I was pretty thin and frail. Mostly due to malnutrition. I worked hard to bring my body back into shape and more. I’m strong, I know that, but I’m sure there’s people even stronger than I am. I’m not ripped, after all. If I did nothing but jack my muscles up, I wouldn’t be able to stay light on my feet when needed anyway.”

“Nor should you be… That would be bad for your body at our age.” Cyial exhaled in resignation, undoing the bandage around Varhi’s waist and just discarding it away. "Still, something doesn't seem right about the wound..."

"Can you stop talking to me like I'm some abnormality?" Varhi's tone was clearly getting agitated now.

"Varhi, that's not what I'm saying—"

Sairek moved to stand up and pace to look at an unobstructed view of Varhi’s side where he’d been sliced pretty badly, and blinked.
The wound wasn’t fully healed still, but it looked like a week’s recovery had been done in little more than a day. The most strange part was the absolute lack of scarring that was occurring. Even most of the bruises Varhi had occurred from before were practically invisible to the naked eye at this point. The discoloration was slight, and Sairek only spotted them because he knew they should be there. At this rate, by tomorrow, all evidence of the damage that had been done save for the slashes would be entirely gone.

Varhi looked at Sairek. “So you think I’m weird too, obviously, given that expression.”

Cyial glanced behind himself to look at Sairek, then turned back to Varhi. “We don’t think you are weird. We think it’s not natural.” Cyial frowned. “Varhi, a wound like that would normally take a few weeks to heal, with good rest and care. You were up and about, repairing the ship for crying out loud.”

“Hey, I went back to bed like a good boy afterwards.”

Cyial rolled his eyes, then glanced back to Sairek. “Do you see what I need to put up with?”

Sairek snorted in amusement, as did Varhi, taking the teasing in good stride. “If he heals that quickly, isn’t it a boon though, Cyial?” Sairek asked.

“I—I mean, it could be? But what if it’s doing some sort of side effect underneath that’s bad?” Cyial asked. He glanced back towards the wound with a scrutinizing look. "It's definitely healing but it looks... weird. Not quite like it's infected, but..."

“What do you mean? I’m starting to feel pretty good compared to yesterday.” Varhi questioned.

“Getting beaten to a pulp and having metallic blades piercing through your flesh constantly is anything but good for your health.” Cyial replied dryly.

“Maybe I just have a fast metabolism? You see how much I eat when I have access to food.” Varhi stated.

Cyial opened his mouth to speak, then paused, thinking critically for a moment. His eyebrows creased and he soon frowned. “No, that still doesn’t make sense.”

“...You sure? You looked like you needed to think about that one.” Varhi teased.

“I am sure.”

“Maybe it’s a really fast metabolism I have?”

“No.”

“A really, really fast metabolism?”

“Varhi—”

“A really, really, really fast metabolism?”

“For the love of— It is not your metabolism!” Cyial scoffed, throwing his hands up into the air. “Your metabolism would have to be so fast for that, you’d be starving to death constantly! Maybe it helps a little bit, a tiny, insignificant amount, but there’s something else clearly at play here!”

“Sooo, could you guys tell me what time it is right now?” Sairek asked, causing the other two to look at him.

“It’s late at night.” Cyial answered him. “It’ll be a couple more hours before the sun rises.”

“I slept that long, huh…?” Sairek asked.

“Not like there’s anything else to do on the ship. It has no entertainment or anything. Of course, it wasn’t designed to get to places this slowly, either.” Varhi shrugged. He watched Cyial pull out another clean bandage and began wrapping it around his stomach, though the wound on his arm Sairek noted as he glanced, had already been almost completely healed to the point it didn’t even need one anymore, though it had been a more minor cut in comparison, so that wasn’t that surprising.

“I’ve barely been eating anything.” Sairek sighed, then glanced back at Varhi. “And the food we have on here leaves little to be desired.”

“Oh come on. It works.” Varhi protested. "I mean, it keeps you alive and your stomach filled, yes?"

"Eating is meant to be enjoyed, not tolerated." Sairek shot back dryly.

"It's also done to keep you alive and sustained; which the rations do."

“I mean, I’ve tasted worse, but at least despite being worse, the meals were more hearty.” Sairek responded dryly, moving his form away from the other two and towards the door.

“Where ya goin’?” Varhi asked.

“I said I’m hungry.” Sairek said. “I’m going to go see what else we have. And then I'm going to try to get your damn blood stains out of my clothes.”

* * *

SaireK leaned his arms along the ship’s railing, staring down at the harpoons sticking out of the ship below him while the wind flapped his cape behind his back. He let loose a weary sigh, his gaze turning to his left as he looked at the deck to see stained blood only a few feet away from him -- most of it had been Varhi’s.
Was this his fault? Was what he did result in another man losing their life? Sure, Varhi was acting in self-defense, and the man could have surrendered instead of attacking him, but…

Well, at least he managed to rinse out his tabard clean of Varhi’s blood. It took over an hour, though, and more of his magic than he wanted to admit.

“Still having trouble with your thoughts?” Sairek heard Nayleen ask from the wheel. He twisted his upper body halfway and craned his neck to look the rest of the way behind himself to look at her, rather than respond though, he closed his eyes softly and turned himself back around, opening his eyes a moment later to stare in the direction of the ocean once again, his left hand reached up to cup the Cearestian jewel for comfort. It was still recovering, but it was almost there. A pale yellow by now.

He nearly jumped when he felt a hand clasp his shoulder. So absorbed into his thoughts, he didn’t realize Nayleen moved to join beside him. She moved her hand along his back to clasp his other shoulder and pulled him closer so they were side by side, staring out into the ocean. “C’mon, tell me what’s on your mind.” She pressed.

“...Trying to figure out what I should do.” Sairek murmured, barely loud enough to be heard over the ambience of the ship itself. His left hand slid off the jewel, traveling upwards as he leaned his weight forwards, resting his elbows on the railing. His left hand cupped his eyes into his palm as he sighed. “...Or what I can do…” he corrected himself.
Nayleen didn’t say anything, but stood by his side. They were silent for a long moment. Sairek moved his hand from his face, holding the railing with both of his hands with a small shake of his head. Finally, he turned slightly to look in Nayleen’s direction. “You know, you still owe me that explanation.”

“Eh?”

“You and Varhi.” He clarified, tilting his gaze in her direction.

Sairek felt Nayleen’s grip on his shoulder tense slightly. Her hand moved away and returned to her side, quickly withdrawing from him as she frowned with a guilty look.

“Oh, don’t be like that. As if I am in any position to criticize.” Sairek snorted, looking back towards the ocean. "At least your relationship isn't taboo."

“I just wanted him to feel something nice after all the shit he’s been through.” Nayleen said, then looked at Sairek.

“Well, that was probably half of it.” Sairek commented, his voice neutral. "I don't know if that's ground for seducing him, though."

"Seducing him?" Nayleen frowned, perplexed.

"There's no way Varhi would have come up with something like that on his own. I'm not as good as being perceptive as you are, but at least give me some credit. It's obvious you pay more attention to him than he does to you, at least as far as physical attraction goes."

“He’s good looking, too.” Nayleen admitted. She inhaled deeply.

“Now we’re getting closer.” Sairek said, still neutral.

"Besides, he kept teasing me by keeping his shirt off. And sometimes nothing at all in Karvadean. I think a lower girl of less standing would have caved into temptation much sooner," she joked.

Sairek couldn't stop a small snort from escaping him, briefly cracking his facade. "As long as you didn't force him to do anything he didn't want to do at the end, I guess."

"Of course not. Actually he wanted to go again after the first time. I think it's safe to say he enjoyed it."

"More than once, eh? Now I can understand why Cyial was so frustrated that day."

Nayleen squinted her eyes at him. “You really do that well, you know. Not a hint of emotion at all in your expression or voice.”

Sairek finally allowed himself an amused smirk. “Not to you. You’re too perceptive and know me too well by now for it to work.”

“Well, I’m sure it has fooled most people. It's still stupid you were taught to do something like that though at such an age.”

Sairek shrugged. He dropped the mask completely, both in his expression and voice. “Varhi had to pretend to have emotions, and I had to pretend to not have them... It's ironic, isn’t it?”

Nayleen shrugged as well. “He says he can’t feel them but I am not entirely convinced it is acting some times. Though maybe he's been doing it for some long, some of it might just be instinctual to him. Maybe it might be linked to the amnesia he has?”

Sairek cupped a hand under his chin in thought. “...Never heard of an amnesia that makes you forget how to feel before. Unless… Perhaps there’s a specific trauma he had that is linked to that?” Sairek pondered. "Either way, he showed plenty of emotion yesterday morning when we climbed up. And then with that merchant guy double-crossing us. Not to mention when we first escaped from this ship..."

“I thought something similar. I suggested maybe he doesn’t feel, not because he can’t, but because he won’t. It doesn’t explain how he heals thirty times faster than the average person, though.” She said, holding her hands palms up as her shoulders remained tensed in her shrug.

“That part sure has Cyial perplexed… He doesn't stop talking about it every time he gets hurt and he miraculously recovers quickly.” Sairek muttered dryly. “His arm is almost as good as new. It doesn’t even need a bandage anymore.”

“I know. He was flaunting it earlier.” Nayleen laughed. "Shirtless again of course."

Sairek rolled his eyes. "I suppose it's a good thing, he'd be dead by now if it wasn't for that, but there has to be some more scientific reason that's logical..."

“I suppose it wasn’t a very deep cut, but that would still take a few days to heal, not just one. There are medical supplies on the ship though, I suppose he probably took those when we weren’t looking?” Nayleen suggested.

“There is?”

“Yeah. Pretty decent stuff, actually. I did some more exploring of the ship when I woke up. There’s a medical room. It’s got a bed like the captain’s room, and some medical supplies in there. Not a lot left, though. They might have used some to treat Avotash and whoever else after we bailed. I assume all of the ethereal in there was used to keep Varhi conscious as well. Still, it’s got bandages sterilized with herbs, some tonics and some surgery equipment; basically everything to treat the kind of stuff Varhi tends to get. We should probably just take it with us. I'll show you where it is later.”

“Ah… I get the feeling Jimmy probably bought all of that for Varhi, considering his constant tendency of getting himself hurt.” Sairek drawled.

Nayleen sighed. “Yeah…”

“Well, hopefully this time will be the last time, at least for a while. He’s been in almost constant pain for a month now even considering his fast healing speed if you stop and think about it.” Sairek frowned.

“I sure hope so… I hope we aren’t sailing into something terrible…” Nayleen winced, turning towards Sairek, eyeing the Cearestian jewel. “It’d be best to maybe not advertise that you have the Masirean jewel until absolutely necessary while we are in Kior territory… Considering our position, if someone really wanted to, they could take your jewel and that one, and then they’d have three of the four jewels. And you know better than anyone how strained the relationship between the two countries are, Sairek.”

Sairek’s fingers gripped the railing tighter. “I know.” He groaned. “I know…”

Chapter 46: Just Yield

 

Varhi would have to thank Cyial later. The demon had been kind enough to stand still and give his boots a nearly full refill in Sairek’s stead after he had tossed the Prince to safety, acting as a backup for Sairek. He’d been wise enough to keep going after the Prince lost concentration from being tossed into the brush to make their escape.

Still, even with that small gift, he needed to be precise with how he handled this. He wasn’t at full strength yet still despite his boast to Sairek. That was still a few more days away with proper food and rest which they’d all been sorely struggling with, and not only that, he had already thrown his ‘ace’. It rebounded off the soldier’s helmet somewhere near the coach, but that was over twenty five feet away, and it could have landed in the bushes somewhere. He couldn’t see it immediately in the darkness.

Oh well... The situation to him was at least par for now. This was something he could win.

After sending the other soldier flying when they tried to pursue Sairek and company, and having attacked the air behind to defend himself from a flank attack, Varhi understood that the only way to defend himself against being outnumbered was to keep up the pressure; to continue assaulting and intimidating the soldiers so they would not want to engage him and so he could dictate the flow of combat. If he got surrounded or they had a moment to recollect themselves into any kind of coordinated attack, this would be over for him fairly quickly. Thankfully, if it’s one thing people in general seemed to do when he had to combat them, it was that they vastly underestimated the kind of damage a small pissed off mercenary with a giant sword could do...
...and they were about to find out first-hand the kind of damage he was about to tear asunder onto them.


Most Masirean soldiers had the same equipment in four different sets: A sword and shield, a two-handed sword, a spear, or a single sword with bow and arrows. Two of these guys had swords and shields, and the one Nayleen had shot which was furthest from him at the moment had a singular sword with a bow and arrows. He had to take that one out first.

Varhi repositioned his great sword from his swing and angled the blade at his right side, the handle of the sword in front of his right hip. He took a big step forward, releasing a ferocious cry, swinging from right to left at the soldier in front of him again, feinting a terrifying swing to force them to back up. As much as he was holding back putting his all into the swing, the big benefit of having a great sword was that nobody wanted to get hit by such a weapon regardless of how little 'oomph' you put into it and were more than happy to kindly back up from you when you swung it around willy-nilly. Out of the corner of his eye, Varhi saw the man he was truly going for begin to pull out the bow and arrow back from a quiver after sheathing his sword.

Perfect...

Continuing the momentum of his swing, Varhi angled the attack so the soldier in front of him would be forced to evade off to his side as he spun around with the momentum to ready his sword onto his left side and make the man dodge that way as well. When he was positioned, Varhi bent his knees and released a triumphant “Hah–!” He used the ethereal in his boots to leap past the soldier beside him and rushed forwards at the man that only just got a bow and arrow into his hands. The force of the leap was so great, that a plume of dust and dirt from the ground formed a small ring where he had been standing a second ago. The man stared wide-eyed underneath his helmet at this child launching towards him, right hand outstretched for his head.

Varhi clasped the front of tthe man's helmet while he continued forwards, holding him in a viciously tight grip in his right hand while the momentum of his leap carried them both forwards and the soldier off of his feet, until finally, moving into the edge of the forest on the path, Varhi followed it up further with a hard shove, tossing the man. The back of the soldier’s head, protected by a helmet as it may have been, slammed into a tree. Varhi twisted himself in the air to the left as much as he could manage to avoid the impact with the same tree, collapsing and spiraling into the brush. Even as he tumbled and grunted, coming to an abrupt stop through sticks and vines, he heard the satisfying sound of metallic armor collapsing into a heap onto the dirt closely behind him.

Righting himself up, he pushed himself back out of the bushes to examine his handiwork. Indeed, the man had collapsed. Unconscious and hopefully not dead though most certainly he'd have a concussion, but he'd have to verify that later. He had put a lot of strength and energy into that. Enough that his right arm hurt a little and he rolled his shoulder to try and relieve his muscles a little. Varhi overlooked the road once he emerged back onto it. Both sword and shield soldiers were staring at him shocked at the impressive and intimidating feat of strength he had just pulled off. Varhi slowly, coldly, turned his glare towards the coach, where he saw Belgarion staring at him, even more shocked and intimidated than those two men on the other side of him were.

“If I were you Belgarion, I would be trying to flee immediately after selling us out...” Varhi warned in a sneer, his glare remaining icy, “...because you, are, next.”

Varhi would have laughed at the terrified wail that escaped the merchant, had he not been so utterly pissed off at the betrayal. Belgarion hastily began preparing the horses to move while Varhi began to take slow deliberate steps towards the vehicle. Oh yes, he could have begun sprinting immediately, but where was the fun of that? Why not make the man shit his pants first, feel the regret and fear the lingering consequences of his actions?

When it did begin showing signs of moving with protest from the horses shrieking while Belgarion desperately whipped them to move, Varhi morphed his slow, threatening walk into a full sprint then. He bent his knees and let out a furious roar of anger. He expended the remaining ethereal in his boots to make a leap between the other two soldiers in front of him and towards the coach. The energy got him most of the distance, enough to reach the back right wheel with the coach to his left, but he underestimated the remaining energy in the boots and it wasn’t enough to reach the driver’s seat as he intended. Varhi growled in frustration at the miscalculation and throwing all caution to the wind, shoved his beloved greatsword to his side and into the wheel next to him. There was a horrible snapping sound as the wheel got struck and began to drag along the ground, unable to properly roll around with a two-handed sword lodged between the spokes and embedded into a portion of the side, the sword was more powerful and durable than the wheel.

With the extra weight of his weapon off-loaded from himself, and the coach slowed down somewhat by the damaged wheel skidding and dragging within the ground, Varhi managed to sprint himself more ahead through sheer physical fitness until he could jump up into the driver seat at the front from the ground in a single acrobatic leap.
Belgarion’s face was frozen in hesitation with fear, staring at this threatening twelve-year-old boy who had his right knee up onto the seat, his left dangling outside as he grasped at the back of the seat and the front frame of the vehicle. Varhi's purple-trimmed black cape billowed behind him due to the speed of the coach as the horses galloped along. Varhi gave Belgarion an icy, intimidating glare.
Belgarion, regaining some semblance of urgency and overwhelmed with self-preservation instincts, began to hastily paw at his belt with trembling hands, pushing his shirt up above the belt of his pants, where Varhi saw a Kiorian pistol was holstered.

He acted before Belgarion could fully draw out the weapon and aim it. He pushed himself forward leaping at Belgarion from his side of the seat, outright tackling the man off of the still moving vehicle and slammed down on top of him in the middle of the dirt road. They both rolled at first unceremoniously along the ground, with Varhi quickly achieving control as he pinned the man with whatever weight of his that he could. The boy outright backhanded the firearm that Belgarion had in his grip with ease using his right hand, his teeth grinding together with a fury foreign to him. Finally, having caught his prey, Varhi let out as much of a viscous growl his adolescent voice could manage and began to aggressively punch the man in the face with the use of both of his hands balled into clenching fists, over, and over, and over again, one after the other.

“YOU SUNUVA BITCH!!” Varhi shouted at the top of his lungs. He threw a right-hook punch directly into Belgarion’s nose, which had no resistance against the half-plated fist. Then Varhi threw another one into his left eye. Then another right-hook against the jaw…

Blood was starting to get on his gauntlets…

...but he didn’t care.


SLAM!


“YOU BACKSTABBING JACK RAT!!"


CRUNCH!


“AFTER EVERYTHING I HAVE DONE FOR YOU!?”


WHAM!


“Damn you...
DAMN YOU!!"


SLAM! BAM!


Varhi continued, pummeling the man punch after punch, each crunch he felt under his fists was wickedly satisfying, relieving...
After the ninth punch to the man’s face, Varhi pushed himself up and pulled Belgarion up with him by the front of his shirt, letting out a frustrated cry as he tossed the man away to roll and sprawl on the road. “You stay put right there…! If you even try to escape, I will hunt you down and kill you if it’s the last thing I do...!” Varhi threatened, his voice strained as he tried to keep it held together, lest it break apart. “Apparently my previous warning wasn’t clear enough for you, so you better listen to this one you traitorous piece of shit!”

Belgarion released… a sound. Varhi wasn’t sure what he was trying to communicate exactly, but at least he managed to refrain from killing him…
Belgarion was scum. Belgarion was pathetic. Belgarion was greedy...

...But Belgarion wasn’t evil...

He wished he was.
It would have made this so much easier...

“Damn you…!” Varhi repeated in a growl under his breath, turning back around and storming his way to the back right wheel of the coach as he pulled his sword out of it without missing a beat in his stride. He glared at the other two soldiers who had pursued after him, both looking like they were regretting some serious life choices right now considering the absolutely savage beating they had just witnessed. And the cause of that savage beating was storming directly towards them.

Varhi’s breath was heaving ragged. This was anger—true anger. And he hated it…
It was too consuming.
Too overwhelming.
He couldn’t control himself.
He was actively trying to fight against it for control over himself but he just didn’t know how other than to just let out the frustration in the most primal methods of possible—destroying all the causes for that frustration. The more he thought about it, the angrier he became…

“GrrraaaAAAAGGHHH!!!” Varhi howled into the night in raw emotion as he began charging at the other two soldiers who began sprinting away from him outright.
Varhi gave no mercy in his pursuit. He was smaller, faster and more lightweight than them, fueled by even more adrenaline than their fear could give them against Varhi’s fury. Eventually, after over a hundred and twenty yards of sprinting, Varhi caught up to the first one and slashed at the less protected backside of a leg. As angry as he was, he made sure not to cut too deep and only used the tip of his great sword to render the soldier unable to run anymore and avoid the more critical parts of the leg—their boots only protected their front side after all, unlike his which protected his legs all around.
The soldier barked out a cry of pain as they fell forwards under their own weight in combination to the freshly delivered injury. Varhi ran over them and approached the second one.

Somewhat to the man’s credit, he turned back around to face Varhi with his weapons ready. As Varhi swung at his legs, he moved to block with the shield and pushed Varhi’s greatsword away, deflecting him entirely, before positioning himself in a more defensive posture while back-stepping away firmly, a pace Varhi pressed forward, keeping the distance even as he poised his greatsword in front of himself, keeping the sword at an angle in preparation to either counter-attack or parry if needed.


"...Your plans don't happen to involve killing anyone, do they?"


Varhi hesitated as he remembered Sairek asking the question nervously. He bit his bottom lip, violet eyes glaring at the soldier over the length of his blade.

Dammit all. He didn't make an oath. He couldn't because he didn't know for sure he could keep it.
...But even still...


“...Yield to me or die.” Varhi warned viciously, his voice struggling like he was speaking in a quaver, which wasn’t helping him be more intimidating, but regardless, he was also glaring at the soldier in as intimidating of a manner as he possibly could anyway.

The soldier hesitated, but kept back-pedaling his form away from Varhi, who kept pursuing him, matching his pace with slow steps forwards.

“Yield to me, or die…!” Varhi hissed more intensely, more hoarsely. “I will kill you if you do not submit and drop your weapons. Last warning.”

After several more seconds of no real response, Varhi was about to charge. He even clenched his teeth, took a deep inhale and took half a step forward to as he began to sprint, resigned to the fact he would probably have to kill, the tip of his sword angled at exposed skin beneath the armor at the man's neck, but as the muscles in Varhi's arms had been tensed, poised and ready to thrust was when the man suddenly dropped his sword and shield and held his hands up in surrender. “I-I yield!”

...Had this man been a second slower in surrendering…

Varhi exhaled his breath out slowly. “Turn around, back facing me. Keep your arms up...” He ordered in a growl, stepping forwards slowly. The man began to comply, and Varhi poised his sword and thrust the tip into the man’s leg, making sure not to pierce completely through. The man yelled in pain and crumpled down onto the road, rolling over to clutch at the injury with both hands.

“B-But I yielded!” The soldier cried from the ground.

“...I said I would kill you if you didn’t yield. I never said I wouldn’t make sure you couldn’t go yell and alert Cyvolta with reinforcements to cut my friends and I off from Krevest, now did I? You live and you won't be disfigured or crippled permanently like the traitor. Be satisfied with that before I change my damn mind.” Varhi scoffed, turning around, he stormed his way back to where he had left Belgarion. “Honestly… no wonder why the Masirean military is garbage.” Varhi huffed. “Being in the military has too many benefits… Half of the Guard can’t even fight properly. So worthless…”

Belgarion was lying face down still. Varhi walked over to the pistol he had smacked out of the man's hand and picked it up wordlessly, triggering on the safety mechanism and then tucking it into his satchel before shifting back over the rest of the distance. He triumphantly raised his left foot over the man’s head and pushed his weight down, crashing the silver plated steel foot onto the wounded merchant. He relished at the squeal of pain from this swine as he leaned down onto one knee to get nice and close whilst driving even more of his weight in.
“You are lucky… so damn lucky that I swore an oath to my captain that I would only kill people when If, and only if I need to kill… or you would be suffering such a slow and painful death right now...” Varhi growled through grinding teeth. “Fortunately for my sanity, such promises to him never eluded about damaging someone and giving them permanent scars, Belgarion… Scars, that for the rest of your life, you, and everyone who looks at your face and body will see... Everyone and you will forever see you for the traitorous, lying, backstabbing scum that you are until the day that you die.” Varhi hissed.

With his intent heard, Varhi reached down to his belt around his waist, and brandished his small but sharp letter opener knife...

* * *

Varhi steered Belgarion's coach down the road. It was taking everything just to concentrate on what he was doing and to prevent his racing mind from wandering away from the task at hand. He was almost there at the agreed upon rendezvous point, though he wondered if the others would have even made it in time…

They should have… He sure took his sweet time… Much longer than he needed to.

He had a gut feeling something like this may happen one day... His plans often had a habit of not working out, and Jimmy told him that happened extremely often in this line of work when he first started off… Thus the reason to have numerous contingency plans, if he could help it.
Jimmy... had been right, of course.
Things rarely ever go as planned… It's a miracle if they go off without a hitch.
That’s not something unique to just mercenary work, either... It’s true that reality was often cruel and twisted and turned things even worse than you imagined, but that didn’t mean trying to prepare for the worst wasn’t pointless.
...Even if the thought of having to do so hurt so very much sometimes…


Plan A: Hire Belgarion to ride them to Krevest, then sneak aboard the ship and hide in his cargo after it had been cleared, then stow away on both Krevest and the Island ships to Malodia, then from Malodia walk their way back to Ceareste. Or get deported back there, whichever happened.

Plan B: If they made it to Krevest, but couldn’t make it onto the boat, they would wait until tomorrow evening and in the darkness of night, slowly, painstakingly rowing the lifeboat to the islands and stow away onto the next boat by sneaking aboard.

Plan C: In the case of an ambush, Varhi would deal with the threat while everyone else ran on ahead until they reached the end of the forest, then wait nearby close to the road in cover. This made it look like they were making a break for Krevest… but they would actually break it back to Cyvolta while most of the Guard there was out in search of them through the cover of trees. They would take advantage of the lower number of patrols in the city and steal a boat (it would be Jimmy's boat in this case) and make a desperate break for it. Varhi would do it alone, while the other three waited for him near the original beach camp location they had set up a week ago. Varhi would stop in the water and drop the rope ladder to pick them up before continuing the escape. They'd out-pace their pursuers from there.

Plan D: If everything else failed, they would go back into hiding, meeting up back behind the monastery in the cove if they got separated.


No doubt more than three soldiers would be on their way to find them. Varhi’s interrogation of Belgarion verified the unfortunate suspicions he had as soon as they were ambushed…
Belgarion had accepted a bribe from the three soldiers, or had already planned to sell them out. No doubt, this was why Belgarion wanted the group to hurry up and why is preparation time was so short...
If his plans had all gone according to plan, he would have received the bribe money, received Sairek’s money (which Varhi confiscated back), and then received the bounty reward for all of them in one fell-swoop.

But it would not be long before three guards missing from their patrols and not returning would be noticed. It probably already was noticed, and when the soldiers get found, they will warn anyone that comes to check on them that Varhi, and presumably the three with him, went this way.
...But by then, they will hopefully already be too late to realize what they actually did.


Varhi pulled on the reins of the coach to drag the horses to a stop as he looked around at the edge of the forest. “HOOOIIII~!!” He shouted as loud as he could. He waited ten seconds, then shouted again. “HOOOOIIIIIII~!!”

He waited patiently, and a little more than half a minute later, he heard rustling to his right and looked over to see the trio emerge from the bushes, almost warily, with Sairek leading. He looked like he was about to speak as Varhi shimmied to their side in the driver’s seat, and jumped down onto the ground, but Sairek hesitated as he examined Varhi. “It… happened after all…?” The Prince asked him quietly.

Varhi swallowed and looked down at himself. "...No. I didn't kill anyone... I just... extracted revenge on Belgarion. Even he is still alive... The other soldiers surrendered. I just incapacitated them is all. They'll be fine with no permanent injuries."

"...Even the guy you slammed into the tree?" Cyial asked.

"You saw that? Don't worry. Masirean helmets are actually quite impressive at protecting and cushioning the head. That's why I did it that hard. That guy will be out for a while, but he should be fine with enough bed rest."
Varhi dug into his satchel to pull out the… now bloodied wallet Belgarion had on him. “...Here. Have it back…” Varhi continued hoarsely, tossing it to Sairek who managed to catch it against his chest, staring at the blood on the wallet, before he hastily pulled the seru out as he braced his staff under his right armpit and tossed the small wallet away into the woods.

“Varhi… are you okay?” Cyial asked, almost timidly.

“...I’m fi—…” Varhi began. He couldn’t speak for a moment, and swallowed. “No, ...I’m far from okay, Cyial… I don't know what I'm feeling... b-but it isn't good...” Varhi admitted barely above a whisper. He felt himself abruptly shuddering and hiccuping. He was confused as to what was happening to himself as water flooded his eyes and he heard himself release a wailing cry with a sharp pain within himself, like he had just been stabbed in the chest with a knife. He felt himself hiccuping again and released yet another wail. His legs felt suddenly weak...
He felt someone hold him and gently guide him downwards to the ground where he sat on his knees, the other three surrounding him and holding him tightly. “What… What’s happening to me…?” Varhi spoke through his hiccups. “This—This feeling… in my chest… I hate it…”

He wasn’t quite aware of what was happening around him. This feeling inside of him practically drowned everything out. It was like an unfiltered noise. Was this sadness? But he couldn’t understand why he was sad… or even if he did, why he was quite this sad… Maybe it was because he had just been betrayed by someone he knew for many months—someone he considered a business partner... maybe even a friend? Someone he believed he understood and could trust and rely on at least in some manner…? He could understand why that would make him as angry as he had been before, which was why he had his outburst… right? But now why sad afterwards...? Like this, he couldn't control even more than he could even when he was angry...

Either way, the more he let out these hiccups and the more water that leaked from his eyes, the less painful the pressure in his chest was becoming. So for now, he just… allowed it, with the afterthought that he probably looked utterly pathetic right now. He knew that the other three wouldn’t hold it against him at all, of course…
The three of them were cheesy like that…
...and he trusted them. More than he trusted Belgarion, he supposed. After all, if he didn't have some suspicion that Belgarion would backstab them, he wouldn't have come up with Plan C. He hoped that trust wouldn't be betrayed by these three, too, unlike what happened with Belgarion.

After a minute and a half of what he could only assume was him sulking on the side of the road while the other three desperately tried to comfort him, Varhi managed to get a good enough grip to slowly halt himself and regain a composure with a shake of his head, finding his face buried in Cyial’s robes as the world was starting to return to him… He didn’t know how or when that happened…
He sniffled through his nose, pushing himself back upright and wiping his face with the leather of his armor with his arm as best as he could. “Stop… I’ll be okay…” he tried to order, but his voice embarrassingly cracked from his emotional state. He looked down onto his lap, looking at the blood that was on his gauntlets as they remained seated there. “I… I don’t get why this is happening now… but I’ll be okay. We don’t have time… for me to act weird… like this…”

“Are you okay though…?” Cyial asked him quietly. “You do have a good amount of blood on—”

“Haah… None of it is not mine—for once…” Varhi mumbled, then glanced towards Sairek. “And no, I didn’t kill anyone… I don’t break my oaths…” he said with conviction. “Only those who don’t surrender and those who are wholly evil… That’s the code I live by.
“...Unfortunately, being a lying, piece of shit asshole isn’t the same as evil… I’m a mercenary… not some kid with a big sword that runs around going on strange killing frenzies pretending he's judge, jury and executioner—despite what most of the Guard may think.”

Sairek nodded at him slowly, but didn’t say a word. Varhi, with his strength returning to him, grunted as he pushed himself back on his feet. The others rose to join him.

“Okay… let’s get back on track… We’re doing plan C. Let’s stay off the road and make our way back to Cyvolta...” he announced, gently brushing past the other three. He began to walk towards the back of the coach, where he opened the back doors. “First though; Sairek, take whatever is in here you think is super valuable or catches your fancy that won’t weigh you down too much. There’s some cloth and basic rations at the minimum we can use. It’s not like he will be selling any time soon and after him breaking our little deal, the compensation is deserved.”

Sairek stepped over and pushed himself up inside the coach to begin opening some boxes. Nayleen jumped up to join him. They both rummaged the boxes as Cyial moved to join at Varhi’s side, watching them.

“...What even is half of this stuff…?” Sairek grumbled, pulling out a fancy looking knife, dagger… thing. It was a dark midnight blue with a golden yellow pattern.

“Not a lot of it is stuff we can use…” Nayleen muttered, pulling out some fancy looking silverware “There’s some generic wares here, but… he really had no intention of helping us, did he?” Nayleen asked, eyeing Varhi.

Varhi could only smile sadly at her briefly, before looking away, blinking his eyes clear of excess water that had remained welled up inside them.

“...Well, I’ll still keep these handy at least…” Sairek said, holding the knife up and grabbing it into his jewel, then he pulled out another one and held it by the tip as he pointed the handle at Cyial. “You should keep one too.”

“...Sairek?” Cyial asked, staring at the knife in confusion.

“For an emergency, Cyial. I’m not taking any risks if I can help it of course, but we need to prepare for every eventuality.” Sairek said, then glanced towards Varhi briefly. "...Like he did."

“But I’ve never… I don’t want to…”

“Cyial, please. I’m not telling you to stab someone willingly or even kill. Only use it if it’s absolutely necessary in self-defense. At minimum, extra knives will be good survival tools in case something else happens anyway, like if you get captured and tied up and they miss it, or whatever else. They look fancy; probably some collector’s thing but they’re still sharp enough to cut with and thus are usable.”

“O-Okay… I understand...” Cyial conceded, reaching up rather timidly to take the knife and held it carefully in his hands, before pocketing it inside his robe.

Varhi had watched the exchange and saw Sairek look at him, to which he nodded approvingly. The Prince was starting to think smart and learning. If something had a use and didn't encumber, then do take it. Even if the use was unconventional or niche.

There were a few more items Sairek grabbed. A few bits of clothes, too big for them, but they could always be cut up into strips to use as bandages in emergencies or emergency make-shift bedding.
There was a box however that didn’t seem to be used for selling, but was a supply box. One sleeping bag, a good supply of rations and a tent. Varhi recognized the tent as Belgarion’s for when the man had gone on longer trips, not necessarily limited to Masirean, so this box wasn’t for selling, but survival and travel. Therefore, they took everything within it. However, everything other than that was fairly useless; mostly just raw material of crystals of the non magical variety, leathers, ores and the like. All useful things normally, yet useless to them, so they were all left behind.

“We’re done.” Sairek announced to Varhi afterwards, dropping down out of the coach to be level with him and Cyial. Nayleen quickly followed after.

“Good… Let’s hurry back. We’ve spent too long here as it is. More soldiers will be here before soon.” Varhi ordered as he drew his sword, and with a grunt of effort, he slammed the weapon into the back right wheel, damaging it considerably, making the coach look like it was too damaged to continue onward and they had to continue here on foot. Varhi turned around and stampeded with purpose off the road into the thicket of the forest with the other three following behind him. “We’re starting Plan C… We will head back to Cyvolta and take back my boat from that bastard King,” he snarled. He calmed himself somewhat before looking towards Cyial. “Ready up my boots if you would, please. Sairek will need every ounce of energy he can get to get you guys in position quickly,” he ordered, pulling off his helmet visor and stashing it away into his satchel for now.

* * *

Varhi slowly stalked his way on the southeast side of Cyvolta, then sighed in weary frustration. It was no surprise the city was abuzz with soldier activity by the time he got here. However, he didn’t need to get super sneaky. He just needed to get on the boat before anyone else did. And if anyone was on the boat, get them off of it one way or another. Though he was sure he could handle that part, the problem was he had to do it quickly while getting the engine running and out into the ocean to prevent reinforcements or other soldiers managing to board it after him at the same time. And Jimmy's boat when the engine was warming up was anything but subtle.

Thankfully, boarding it was quite easy and wouldn’t be in the manner they would expect for sure. Actually, it’s something he practiced many times before with Jimmy in case of an emergency… not that this kind of situation was what he had in mind with practicing. It was meant to be a quick retreat method.
His boots after having rendezvoused with the others once again had enough oomph to get him from a dock onto the deck by just jumping up and over the edge. Something he may need to do, because as he surveyed the docks more closely, two soldiers were left behind to guard the ship. As Varhi observed further, it seemed that the ship’s anchor was in place as well as the boarding pallet. Both would take time to remove. Then there was also the initiation of the ship’s engines. It took a couple of minutes to fully engage and warm up. Normally that wouldn’t be an issue as it took time traveling back to the driving wheel anyway when operating solo, but if you were in a hurry like he would be, then you were still stuck being relatively immobile for a couple of minutes. He also needed to steer the ship out into the ocean. If he just engaged at full throttle, he’d crash and beach the ship into the dock. He needed to have it slowly turn around first before he could full throttle the engines out of here anyway. Even still though, the ship was pointing and docked facing the east, and he wanted to go west, but that did mean from his position, it made it easier to outright jump onboard. He wouldn’t be able to do it from the back. The distance was too high.

It was nearly two, perhaps three in the morning now. Varhi was getting quite exhausted; especially because of his outburst on Belgarion earlier. It turned out that exploding that much in anger was actually quite tiring. He’d make a mental note of that for next time to try and preserve more energy if that happened again. He still had so much more work to do, after all…

Okay, he was just delaying the inevitable at this point. No time like the present...

Varhi slowly kept himself within shadows as best as he could on his approach, taking periodic pauses where he was best hidden until a cloud passed over the moon before making movements as he made his way closer towards the city, until eventually he was against the walls. He leaned his head past the base of the tower on the southeast end to get one last look at what was going on. He slid against it onto the other side of the tower and made himself try to look more casual and not as suspicious as he pushed away and walked towards the southern center side of town closer towards the boat. Street lights littered the walkways, but he kept his head down and occasionally glanced to one side away from them, trying to have the light of them more downcast over his face whenever possible to make himself just that little bit harder to recognize at a glance. There weren’t many people on the streets. Those who walked by didn’t give him any attention or try to stop him, so he just kept going as he reached the end of the street and turned to his left closer to the dock, heading towards the northern side of the boat.

He was expecting to be noticed any second now, as there were even less civilians here out at night and those who were would be mostly members of the Guard keeping watch over the boats. He got further than he thought he would before someone called “Hey, you!” In his direction, causing him to glance to his left a bit behind him as a soldier he just walked by moved from one of the civilian boats and was heading in his direction. Varhi glanced back forwards and pressed onward as if he hadn't heard anything.

“Hey kid, I’m talking to you!”

Varhi calmly reached into his satchel and grabbed his helmet visor, affixing it firmly in place on top of his head. With a few more steps, he made it to the bow side of the boat, and with the soldier shouting attention, the two soldiers guarding the boarding plank of his boat turned towards his direction and began moving towards him as well to intercept and pin him in. Varhi paused as they began to approach. Letting them get further away from where they would be able to board the boat.

“Wait a second, that’s the wanted kid!” The soldier in the front called, recognizing him.

Varhi smirked. His reputation preceded him, it would seem. “Yes. That's me. I’ll be taking my boat back now.”

Bending his knees, Varhi grunted in effort, expending most of the energy in his boots as he jumped up thirty feet into the air, angling himself towards the front of the boat. He reached both hands out to grasp the railing, though he was still traveling upwards in momentum, allowing himself to vault over the railing and landing on the deck with relative ease. Wasting no time as each second from here on out was precious, he dashed his way towards the steering wheel and lever controls.

“Hey! He’s stealing the boat! Stop him!” He heard someone shout down below.

Varhi skidded to a stop as he grasped the steering wheel to stall his momentum, he quickly reached the levers and did the series of directional inputs with them to pull the boarding plank back from the dock. He heard the metallic sounds of it pulling in and retracting and then two people letting out short-lived yelps before two splashes of water were heard down below. He cracked a mild smirk of amusement as he imagined what it probably had looked like.
He did another series of inputs with the left lever to begin to pull up the anchor of the ship up, then pushed himself off the steering wheel while the anchor was being withdrawn to go inside the ship, dashing through the hallways until the end where he reached the spiraling stairs, grabbing the pole in the middle, he let himself practically drop down to the floor with a heavy grunt from the landing. Then he dashed towards the engine levers, pulling all of them up and hastily set the engines to all be active. While the engines were beginning to roar to life slowly, he made his way to quickly dash back towards the stairs and grasped the pole to balance himself. He crouched down, and with another grunt of effort, he jumped straight up, ignoring the stairs, only grasping the pole at the peak of his jump and swinging himself to jump off from it, facing down the opposite end of the hallway he had just come from.

When he was sprinting down the hallway back towards the deck again, the ship suddenly shook hard from the anchor settling back into the ship’s hull. It made him stumble and collapse down onto one knee. He had to grip the sides of both walls in the hallway to prevent himself from falling flat on his face. When he recovered, he stepped back out and ran his way towards the steering wheel, maneuvering the levers and the wheel. He was pushing the engine despite the fact it wasn’t fully operational yet, but he knew he didn’t have a second to spare. The whole city was no doubt going to be on alert now and every guard in the city would be after him and getting ready to hunt him down, if not preparing to commandeer other ships in order to pursue him and dock on his. If they managed to make his ship stationary and began boarding quickly, this was going to get much more difficult and messy very quickly. He couldn’t do much to drive the ship while fighting more soldiers than he could probably deal with, even if they were of the Guard; as untrained and lazy most of them were.

Varhi first caused the ship to back up slightly away from the docks and began turning it, hearing lots of shouting down below. He stopped reversing and turned the wheel back around the other way as he cranked the engine forwards at full throttle. He just began moving when he heard a sudden boom and then the ship shook so violently, he was thrown off of his footing with a confused cry, sliding and rolling off to the side several feet away from the steering wheel.

As he collected himself, he could hear the engine of the ship sounded… wrong, and he pushed himself back up and leaned over the side towards Cyvolta to try see what—

“Oh for fucks' sake…!” He swore.

They had brought out several harpoon guns and fired them into the ship, piercing the hull. No doubt some of the engine was damaged on that side, and the harpoons themselves were probably jamming some gears as men tried to literally reel him back in. Though the ship had a fair bit of weaponry and firepower, it was almost only built for maximum speed and travel and not much else. It wouldn’t take a lot to cripple the ship. Any real aggressive force could tear apart the hull with relative ease. There were weapons on board, but a dissuasion at best. Fleeing was usually better as most ships except the Kiorian military couldn't outpace it, but if he couldn't move it or it ended up crippled even if he did manage to get free, then...

Varhi clenched his teeth together tightly. He retreated back to the steering wheel, revving the engine down to suspension before more damage was done to the machinery, then he manipulated the levers with a series of inputs with his left hand as he rotated the ship using the steering wheel with his right, turning the ship to the side to face and be aligned with the docks. As he finished the series of inputs, compartments on the ship opened up on the left side facing towards Cyvolta, where a series of smaller cannon barrels emerged. Varhi ran back over to the railing, cupping his hands to shout. “I’ve got cannons and I know how to use ‘em!! If you know what’s good for you, you will release my ship!!”


“Your ship!?”


Varhi looked down towards the direction of the all-too-recognizable voice and his blood boiled when he spotted Avotash leering up at him from the docks. He was surprised the man was still lounging around in Cyvolta... The wrappings around Avotash's head, no doubt covering a pot lid-shaped wound was probably part of the reason for that.

“Yes, my ship!!” Varhi snapped back, his voice cracking in anger. “Jimmy and I paid for it, had it built with OUR money! I am not a citizen of Masirean you stupid pompous—”
He was cut off as another volley of harpoons was fired into the ship, causing him to stumble as the vessel shook again and he would have fallen had he not been gripping the railing so hard in anger already.

“Fine…” Varhi growled dangerously under his breath. Though he was too far for anyone to hear the threatening tone. His violet eyes glared down below towards the dock at Avotash in anger.
He pulled back and stormed his way back over to the steering wheel with purpose. He gripped it with two hands and shoved the wheel inwards, then rotated it slowly to the left, causing the cannons of the ship to begin to lower their angle downwards towards the docks.

“This entire country is nothing but a sham…” Varhi growled under his breath.

“He’s firing! Scatter!” He heard someone shout. A few seconds later to give people long enough to at least get out of the line of fire, Varhi gripped his right hand into a fist.

“...thusly, I’ll smash it into dust!!”

Varhi pounded the center of the steering wheel with the side of his fist like he was slamming a button down. Only fractions of a second after his fist connected, there were multiple blasts and crashing noises coming from his left side in the direction of the Cyvolta dock as a volley of four cannonballs designed to fragment and spread out into explosive shrapnel upon contact were released into the dock, destroying a good section of it where he had aimed his cannons at. Varhi pulled back on the steering wheel to disengage from the cannon controls, and maneuvered the lever again to force the ship into full acceleration once again now that the engines by now would be fully engaged by this point. The harpoons would no doubt be attached to the ship still, but at least there would be no harpoon guns themselves pulling the ship in to cause much resistance now, especially at full throttle with the engines fully warmed up. Varhi felt the balance of his weight shift as the boat began to move. He steered the wheel hard to the right to try and get it turning as much as possible.

“Don’t let him get away! FIRE!!” Varhi heard Avotash’s voice make the command, and he nearly lost balance again as there was a similar boom like from his own cannons, and then a hard shudder against the ship instead almost immediately after.

“Damn it, MY SHIP…!” Varhi swore, switching the ship back into cannon controls again, and this time he maneuvered the right side of cannons to reveal themselves as the ship slowly turned around to face the west. Varhi lowered the aim of his cannons and slammed his fist into the steering wheel again to fire, just as a volley down below was fired as well, causing massive shuddering, and crashing sounds. The engine of the ship let out a protesting groan. Varhi was a bit wary to even look at the damage. He could tell the ship wasn’t accelerating at normal speed, but he was pulling away now at a decent clip at least. He just needed a few more seconds...

Varhi pulled out of cannon controls again and followed a series of inputs to drop the sail, needing every extra bit of movement he could muster as he began to pull the ship away from the dock proper. He heard more cannons firing, but there was no shuddering this time, just the sound of splashing which could only barely be heard behind him above the hissing sounds coming from the ship and loud creaking of metal.

Varhi centered the steering wheel before quickly dashing back to the railing towards the direction of the land and peered over the side, gauging how fast he was going, which he estimated to only be about a dozen knots or so. Not very fast at all considering he had put full power into the engine and it topped out at around fourty to fourty-five.

...Just how badly did they just tear into the ship...?

Varhi glanced down and hissed a slew of swearing. He saw a gouging hole in the side of the hull. It was well above the water line so sinking probably wasn’t an immediate concern at least, but they had definitely been aiming for the engines rather than trying to sink him. Parts of it were exposed to the open air, and much of it was just outright missing. Varhi quickly ran back over to the steering wheel, and pulled slightly away from the coast line to start moving away and returning the wheel back to a neutral position as he ran back to the other side to examine the damage there as well. Indeed, the harpoons were still sticking out of the hull, but this side had a hole in it too, though not as big as the other side.

This was going to cost an absolute fortune to repair… And with how extensive it was, most of it could only be done in Kior, as well…

And that was just only the hull damage he could see. He hadn’t actually examined the engine room itself yet on the interior, but he couldn’t do that right now. He hadn’t actually gotten away quite yet and he needed to keep in control of this thing. He was still moving faster than most of the other ships could, but he wasn’t out of immediate danger right now. Besides, even at this speed, it wouldn't be too long before he reached the pick-up point he set for the other three.

Varhi sighed. He was feeling exhausted from running around like this, constantly filled with adrenaline. His body was beginning to reach its limit and crash.
He glanced around his surroundings, or more specifically, the ship’s surroundings. It looked like they were preparing a pursuit indeed in Cyvolta, with what they could with the dock he left in shambles, but Varhi could still probably out speed them as long as the wind remained favorable. It would take them a few more minutes to actually even be able to start a pursuit. The reality of his cannon volley was that all he did was splinter and destroy the dock and left a mess and make it hard for them to start a naval chase. His intention wasn’t ever to fire into the city itself. Harming and getting innocent civilians into the crossfire was no good, and also not useful. Couldn't say the same for anyone in the way of of the cannonfire though. Those shrapnel cannons didn't destroy well, but they did do moderate damage covering an expansive area, usually greatly crippling whatever he hit when the shots were fired that close.

Still, he needed to go down into the engine room and assess the damage and do whatever immediate basic repairs and diagnostics he could to see what he had to work with. Gaining a knot or two of speed back if possible was essential. Inhaling a breath, he began sprinting himself down the hallway again. He was about to make it down when suddenly the captain’s door at the end of the hall abruptly opened, with a swinging fist reaching out of it to boot.

“Ough!” Varhi barked out in a grunt of pain and surprise as the metallic fist slammed directly into his face, causing more impact considering he had been running right into it. His sprinting was cut to an abrupt halt as he rebounded off the floor backwards down the hallway a couple of feet where he lay on his back, stunned and dazed. He groaned in pain. The world and hallways of the ship were sideways as his right cheek lay on the metallic surface of the floor and his left cheek throbbed with heated pain where he had been hit.

Before he could regain his senses, he grunted in pain again feeling a heavy weight pressed down onto his chest, and the sound of a brandished sword. He only just managed to roll his head to look upright before his vision was filled with the tip of said sword pointed at his head. Even still, Varhi had to wearily blink his eyes a few times, trying to clear his vision to get a good view of what was happening. As his vision began to recover, he looked down from the tip of the blade up towards the figure and clenched his teeth.

“Ah… You didn’t get enough of punching me in the face before, did you…?” Varhi groaned, looking up at the soldier that had so gracefully tortured him on the ship before they had made their escape the first time. He supposed it wasn’t out of the question that some people may have been sleeping on the ship they commandeered instead of using the inn… especially if they already had equipment on board. He should have realized that… No doubt all of the sounds and shaking had woken at least this guy up from his slumber. He didn’t bother checking any of the rooms—he had no time to.

So… just how many are on board? Just this guy? He hoped so or this would turn very sour very quickly...

The man was armored in full plate just like before when he was getting his ass beaten in by him, which was dark gray, almost black; his full helmet had a dragon shape crest on the front, sticking on top in front of the helmet, almost like a horn. No ounce of skin was exposed. If the man had been sleeping, no doubt he had taken time to fully redress himself which may explain why he had not engaged Varhi immediately; dressing this amount of armor took a considerable amount of time, especially alone. The man was clearly a captain of Avotash's, which meant this was not going to be nearly as easy as the other goons he dealt with at all.

That, and the fact he was currently on his back, pinned with a damn sword pointed at his face.

Though Varhi didn’t believe in luck, the ship suddenly shuddered and there was a loud snapping sound that caused the ship to violently tremble. It was enough of an imbalance that the captain lost his footing a little and slightly stumbled backwards. Varhi took that opportunity to react when the weight of the man's foot alleviated off of him. He reached both of his hands up to clap both sides of the man’s blade with his palms, covered thanks to the courtesy of his own gauntlets, and shoved the blade off to the left side while bending his right knee up between both the man’s legs and shoved his foot into the midsection of the man hard with a grunt of effort using all of his strength in an attempt to force his opponent further backwards in the direction of the imbalance this man was already struggling to keep steady and up off of him.

It worked. The man stumbled more at the loss of footing and Varhi planted his hands behind himself and shifted his weight with a bit of a hard push with his left foot that was still planted on the floor, rolling himself backwards upright onto his feet, quickly grasping for his own sword behind his back as he moved to sprint back onto the deck in a rapid backpedal, quickly assessing what was happening to cause the shudder. He realized as he came back out into the open that the right side of the ship was currently grinding into a rocky pillar in the middle of the water, with the cannons taking the brunt of the impact which was… actually kind of fortunate. It was better it was the cannons than the hull, at any case, he wasn’t sure the hull could handle much more before the integrity of the ship would break apart. Still, it was causing the ship to slow down and doing damage so it needed to be addressed immediately. Varhi quickly steered the ship hard to the left to maneuver the ship around the rock, causing the ship to rattle and shake in its abrupt swerve. Because of his turn, the back end of the ship turned and ground against the rocky wall and then he steered it back right again to swerve the best he could around it, breaking free from the terrain.

He was aware of thudding footsteps behind him even over all of the noise just as he was finishing correcting the ship. He clenched his teeth as he spun around, swinging his sword defensively at the captain who was charging at him, forcing the man’s approach to a halt. Varhi readied his greatsword to his right side, preparing to swing again if he must, but the man wisely did not approach. Though he couldn't see the man's face, he could feel he was being sized up, and so he did the same.

Appraising the man’s weapon, it looked to be a large long sword. Or to be more precise, a one-and-a-half handed sword; a somewhat versatile weapon that could be used in either one or two hands fairly comfortably. However, the man didn’t have a shield, not that Varhi could see anyway. So the man may just like a faster two-handed blade, which was understandable given the amount of full armor he was in. Too heavy of a weapon would be extremely physically demanding and draining, even for the strongest warriors. Given their size differences though, Varhi’s greatsword was almost of equal length, though more wider, but it was still fairly light considering the type of sword he was using.

This was going to be interesting… but certainly not easy.

“...I’m going to only ask this once: Yield to me and toss your weapon overboard, or I will kill you...” Varhi threatened, raising his sword up from his right side to be more centered in front of him in position to get ready to fight, giving himself as few weak points as possible as he spread his legs out to balance his weight to be able to move in any direction he needed to at a moment's notice.

He waited for a response, but the man gave him none, nor did he drop his own weapon. The ship rocked slightly as it crashed through an opposing wave in the water.

Varhi waited ten seconds, then another ten. Then another ten…

“Fine then...” Varhi growled. “However, it’s not going to be so easy for you this time now that I’m not crippled and unarmed!” He shouted in threat. He sprinted forward to engage; each footfall he made thudded heavily, yet rapidly against the wooden deck of the boat. The captain took up a defensive posture in response. Varhi responded in kind when he got within contact range with the momentum of his sprint into a thrust attack, trying to pierce the defensive stance which the captain side-stepped to Varhi’s left. Varhi twisted the grip of his greatsword and then his body to follow up his thrust into a slash towards that side, and felt resistance as the captain’s blade intercepted his own in a parry. Varhi rebounded off the blade and used that changed momentum sliding his boots on the wood of the deck to spin himself around with a viscous cry to try and attack the captain’s other side, only to once again connect against the man’s weapon, though rather than rebound off of it this time, the captain move to redirect the weight of Varhi’s attack off to the side, causing his momentum to carry on through, and leave Varhi’s left side exposed. The captain followed through as he pushed forwards in an underhanded swinging motion, an attack that could tear Varhi’s hip and up.

Varhi gritted his teeth, tossing his weight to his right side as he dropped himself down into a lopsided roll, rolling back upright onto one knee and his left hand planted on the deck of the ship as he had practiced doing many, many times. He then used his crouched position to push his weight forwards into another roll as the missed underhand swing from the captain continued into an overhead one that would come crashing down on top of him where he had been kneeling. Varhi twisted himself around and pushed himself off the deck to his left, performing a sideways roll and bounced back onto his feet to face the captain who was still putting on the pressure by initiating yet another attack by charging forwards, committing to a series of three slashes going from the man’s left to right, then a downward-angled swing from right to left, and rolling his arm back into yet another overhanded swing on his left side angled towards his right.
Varhi blocked the first two attacks using the flat of his sword, and dashed forwards to avoid the overhead swing and to counterattack, slamming as much weight of his body as he could into the man with a grunt of effort.
Unfortunately, the man barely budged. The armor was too thick and heavy for his smaller size and lightweight kit to make any noticeable impact. Varhi realized it was a mistake almost immediately when he made contact and felt no give, but the captain seized the opportunity just as quickly. A metal fist grabbed the coif of chainmail around Varhi's neck from his cape and lift him up off the ground a few inches like he was nothing more than a bag of potatoes. Varhi let out a brief choking sound at the sudden pressure on his neck, but that was the least of his concerns as the man began walking him towards the edge of the boat. The intention to throw him straight off overboard was pretty clear.

Falling off the ship was a death sentence. There was no way with him being equipped the way that he was that he would be able to swim above the surface of the water for long if he was tossed overboard. Maybe if his boots were fully charged by he had spent most of the energy in them by now.

Varhi grunted in effort, using his smaller size and more flexible kit to his advantage, he kicked his weight forwards and planted both of his feet against the man to kick off of him, then twisted himself around rather than trying to pull himself off of the grip on the nape of his neck, using his smaller size and weight further to his advantage in an attempt to get up and behind so he could get leverage again. However, the maneuver attempt didn’t have enough strength behind it, and the Captain followed Varhi’s momentum to simply toss him overhead. Varhi flew a dozen feet in the air before he began to descend, and then he barked a yelp of pain upon impact with the hardwood deck, crashing and sprawling onto the floor, though he was relatively unharmed otherwise other than the spill he just took. It was a trade-off he was willing to accept if it meant he was free once again and not drowning in the ocean. It hurt a bit, sure, but nothing that would slow him down or prevent him from continuing as he had been.

Varhi shook off the pain from the spill and picked himself back onto his feet, looking around himself briefly off to the side as he caught the wind back into his breath. Once his lungs were renewed with oxygen, he dashed backwards towards the steering wheel of the boat, and slammed the acceleration lever down to neutral, then quickly began inputs to begin to pull down the sail. He only just managed it when he glanced to his right side and saw the captain charging at him, sword poised.

“Nngghhh—!” Varhi let out, diving backwards, but it was not in time to fully evade. The sword ripped through his leather armor and sliced into his side, enough to nearly cause him to cry out in agony, but he managed to suppress it down to merely a grunt of pain. He felt the hot rush of blood pooling into his armor around the wound as he staggered and fell onto his back, left hand gripping his right side as the pain sent alarming signals to his nerves. He clenched his teeth, fighting through the pain, releasing his right side as the captain stepped up towards him with haste in his walk, sword poised again to thrust down at him with no mercy. Varhi rolled from his back onto his front with his hands and knees planted as best as he could whilst still holding his sword, scrambling away with a pained grunt of effort to even move that much that quickly. He practically collapsed back onto the deck of the boat on his left side as he tried to stop his momentum.

The captain was relentless, still pursuing after him, not once letting up the momentum or pressure. Varhi reached with his left hand into his satchel and when the man thrust the sword at him again, he gripped his pot lid by its handle and out in front of him like it was a buckler, stopping the thrust and causing the blade to scrape downwards and thrust the tip of his sword into the wood of the deck, mere inches from both his already wounded side and his right arm.
Varhi roared furiously, both in pain, but also adrenaline as he pressed his weight into his back to raise his legs up from the floor as high as he could go, sending a harsh kick with the toes of his left boot into the side of the man’s full plate helmet to knock him off balance and daze him momentarily.

Finally finding some brief purchase as the captain pivoted around off balance and staggered, Varhi twisted himself around onto his front again and he once more scrambled upwards, diving again towards the steering wheel as he discarded his pot lid onto the deck to grab at the levers again and do a series of movements to cause the rope ladder on the boat to extend downwards.

“Th-There…!” Varhi huffed to himself, feeling sweat accumulating into his eyebrows and beading onto his forehead. He’d done it. Now he just needed to survive the next few minutes for the others to arrive… And somehow get this tin can man off of his damn ship...! At least now he could put his full focus onto the threat trying to kill him.

Varhi turned himself around and back-stepped away as the captain rushed towards him, swinging his sword from right to left. Varhi clenched his teeth as he raised his greatsword to deflect the blow, but staggered, having barely enough strength to block. A returning swing from left to right that he attempted to block again caused him to completely lose his footing and fall backwards onto his rear with an exhausted and pained grunt. The attacks weren’t even that hard, but with his side wounded as it was, and fighting through the pain and exhaustion, he just couldn’t brace for the impacts at all like he normally could handle. He still managed to scramble backwards and get himself back onto his feet in time before he was attacked again however, breath sucking in through clenched teeth as the pain and bleeding at his side was becoming an unbearable anguish to combat through like this. He was nearing his limit.

He’d need to do something desperate…

But what could he do? Still, the captain was continuing his assault, wearing him down, and he had no choice but to barely keep up blocking, and with each blow he blocked while the Captain continued to attack, the harder managing defense it was becoming. The assault continued while the young mercenary tried to conjure up some sort of solution to the dilema he was facing in this fight to the death, until finally as Varhi went to block an attack, it wasn’t enough, he felt the grip of his sword be forced out of his hand as the captain slashed at him, sending his sword toppling a couple feet away onto the ground, and the slash continued on through, slicing into the side his upper right arm. It was almost like slow motion as he saw drops of his own scarlet blood flying through the air, splattering in thick droplets onto the floor of the deck in an arc as the pain flashed up his arm and sent signals into his brain, before time seemed to come back into motion for him.

“AHGGHH...” Varhi gasped out, staggering back a few steps and his left hand clasping onto the bleeding wound of his arm. He furrowed his eyebrows, looking more… frustrated and annoyed, than in pain or afraid. He was conjuring up a brash plan, but hopefully one that would work...

Varhi knew he was reckless for sure, but he wasn’t usually this reckless. Regardless, he was acutely aware that his situation was getting quite desperate...
He abandoned his greatsword and allowed it to remain on the floor. Instead, he charged at the captain again, releasing his bleeding arm as he jumped up.
The man was reasonably caught off guard at Varhi charging at him suddenly despite the wound he took; and being unarmed at that. The surprise factor allowed Varhi to get close, climbing up the man’s armor to reach his helmet, where Varhi gripped it and grunted in effort to wrench the thing off of his head before quickly tossing it away to the side.

Recognition hit Varhi’s eyes. He remembered this guy when he came back from delivering the message and before he went to Ceareste. “Hawkins”, wasn’t it…?
It made sense. The guy had been completely silent and obedient then. Always at Avotash’s side. Always going to retrieve the quill and paper to sign Varhi's job contracts at Avotash's bidding...

Said 'Hawkins' grabbed Varhi, and pried him off, tossing him. Varhi huffed as he was thrown in an arc that would send him straight off the boat and into the waters. He twist himself around mid-air as his boots glowed, using them to alter his projectory mid-air to launch himself as if he just caught himself and jumped against an invisible surface and used that to rebound himself back into the fray.

Varhi landed in front of the man in a crouch and jumped up again as he swirled his body around, boots still charged with energy, he swung his form around mid-air in a roundhouse kick. Hawkins lifted his free arm up, blocking the attack as he caught the boy's kick. Varhi immediately rebounded from the block, spinning the other way around and twisting himself to attack the other side with his opposite foot while he was still in the air, but that too became intercepted, not with a block, but with Hawkins quickly grasping onto his leg with his free hand; he used Varhi's momentum against him to spin the boy around like a rag doll, before tossing Varhi aside.

Varhi grunted as he was thrown back crashing onto his back and then rolling backwards along the deck of the boat until colliding his back into the railing behind him, he slumped, his feet no longer holding him up, his left arm grasped the railing for balance desperately behind him.

Man… He almost couldn’t even stand anymore. This was going to be it... Hawkins was already moving to approach him slowly, and Varhi knew he was trapped…

“...There shall be no mercy for those who don’t yield…” Varhi muttered to himself. "That's... the oath I made to him... I owe nothing more... and nothing less."

Varhi slumped the rest of the way onto the floor with a soft and exhausted "umph...", he reached into his satchel to pull out his third weapon—a weapon he had just gotten only a couple hours ago when Belgarion attempted to use it against him... and so, he pointed it at Hawkin’s head that he engaged with a click as the safety was turned off...


The man, which had been expressionless, not even speaking, reasonably hesitated and froze with sudden attention and alarm when Varhi held this fairly small but extremely dangerous firearm in both of his small hands at the man’s now exposed, unprotected head.

This small, bleeding boy that was just under five feet tall, lacking the strength to even stand up anymore, who was shaking slightly in his aim from the pain in his right arm and the adrenaline coursing through him, now had the captain completely pinned down. Any move he made no longer mattered...
...Whether he moved, whether he didn't move. Whether he tried to surrender now. It didn't matter.
It was over.

Varhi knew that expression. He'd seen it many times by now.

Realization that their life was over, that nothing else mattered as Varhi's young face was now the face of death.


Varhi’s violet eyes narrowed slightly into a long, cold, piercing and heartless glare...
This man, up to now, had been trying to kill him.
Would have killed him. Was going to do it not even five seconds ago.
He had attempted to throw Varhi off the ship and leave him to drown multiple times. Not to mention the physical beating the man had delivered to him just a few days ago. He would have probably done similar to the other three as well if Avotash ordered it.
This wasn't a good person. There was no value to salvage here.


Varhi spoke clearly, but quietly with a rumble in his throat. "It's too late. I told you to yield. You didn't. Now embrace your regret as you fade softly into your own failure.”


Varhi then enacted his own perception of justice. Just like he always did.



BANG !!
      BANG !!
            BANG !!
click...
    click...
 click...



Varhi kept rapidly pulling the trigger with his fingers over and over again, but after the third shot, the weapon had already jammed and just clicked uselessly multiple times before he stopped trying to fire it. Varhi breathed in sharply through clenched teeth, seeing the man’s eyes roll back into his head in lifeless fashion as three spurts of blood gushed out from the three shots that aimed true, flopping backwards and crumpling into a heavy heap on the floor. Even when he lay there, Varhi kept the jammed gun still pointed. He smacked it with his left hand a few times to attempt to unjam it before poising it to be ready to fire at the body again with both hands, shoulders rising and falling as he panted for breath, struggling to stand as blood dripped from his arm and sides, pooling underneath himself. He just... sat there, pistol trained onto Hawkins as if waiting for any movement, even as a minute passed, and then another minute…


“Varhi—!”


Varhi finally snapped out of his daze, looking up to see Nayleen running towards him from the rope ladder he had deployed and sprinting her way towards him. She reasonably hesitated completely at seeing the body on the ground and the weapon he was holding and the amount of blood he was covered in and had still dripping from him. Cyial was quick to follow behind her, holding Sairek’s staff before stopping similarly, and then followed finally by Sairek, who stopped, staring horrified at the body on the deck with three bloody holes in the forehead, but he just shook his head quickly and pressed on past the other two, with Nayleen following behind him shortly afterwards.

Varhi half-heartedly clicked the safety back on and tossed the gun away off to his right side and gripped his right arm, while his right hand weakly clung to his left side. He sat up slightly more, manuevering painfully up onto his knees with a strangled grunt of effort, looking down as he felt fluid beginning to soak his legs now, realizing he basically sitting into a forming puddle of his own blood. He released an exhausted, pained exhale and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. Nayleen and Sairek bent down to make sure he was okay.

“W...What happened—?!” Nayleen asked.

“...A close call… He was asleep on the ship… I didn’t check the other rooms—didn't have the time to. He caught me by surprise… The fight only went downhill for me from there...” Varhi answered between bated breaths. He opened his eyes, violet pupils turning to the side in Sairek’s direction. “I gave him one warning… that I would kill him if he didn’t surrender. He still chose to fight, consistently tried to kill me and throw me overboard… so, I...” Varhi whispered, then he felt his stern expression that he was trying to force crumbling in on itself.
“...It’s the hardest part of doing this, Sairek… Please—Please don’t think of me as a monster…” he pleaded hoarsely in a whisper. “The damage I had to do in Cyvolta, killing this guy... I didn’t want to—all of this, I didn't... If all had gone as planned, if Belgarion didn't sell us out, I'm confident we could have arrived in Malodia without anybody getting hurt at all... I promised you all we would get out of Masirean... But without killing anyone... I couldn't make that promise, even though I tried my best...”

Sairek visibly swallowed, looking back at the body, then glanced back towards Varhi, examining him closely as he slowly and solemnly nodded. Sairek then wordlessly moved his arms around the mercenary boy in a reassuring hug, careful to avoid where the wounds obviously were.

Varhi felt something in his chest when Sairek did that, but he didn’t know enough about emotions to recognize what it was… but he liked the warm feeling that was there, even if it was subtle…
But there was a lot of bitterness in there too that was separate from that warm feeling and it was overpowering at the moment. Varhi closed his eyes, inhaling a few deep ragged breaths. “I'm... sorry… Today has been… much harder for me than usual… I... I must be having an off-day...” he tried to apologize with a forced chuckle. It wasn’t working at all. His voice was starting to break as he spoke again. “I… I don’t know why… or what I am feeling… right now… I-I’m—”

“Relax…” Sairek shushed him quietly, holding onto him tighter, allowing Varhi to sag into his form. “Relax…” Sairek repeated again, but this time his own voice was shaky. "I understand..."


What kind of country was this? The irresponsibility that made an entire village be transformed into monsters as they remained tortured; allowing children to become soldiers for Avotash's own benefits for lower wage than normal? Normalizing the killing and murder for profit, and having men who would attempt to kill those children without a second thought when it was convenient? What kind of King allowed this to happen...?!

As he held Varhi, Sairek clenched his teeth, his bottom lip quivering. Never would he allow these kinds of atrocities happen to his people under his rule when it was his time to lead his country if he could help it. Never. Never.