5 Chapter 3 - 'Unlikely Fugitive'

"Desperate times call for desperate measures, but no one is above the judge's gavel."

- Pontus, the Prophet.

*

Silleon grabbed her backpack, double-checking her luggage. Additional supplies were on board her personal warship, the Scimitar. An uncomfortable feeling settled into her gut. Today, she was going to use the faithful ship as a tool in her plans. She hated to go, but she knew she had to.

"I'll return, I promise," she thought as she stepped out the door to her cabin, glancing around to make sure she was alone. "I'll come back with anyone, anything, to save you, Sanlaeria."

It was midnight. Most of the soldiers in the harbor would have been asleep by now, and she knew from experience that the sentries usually slept on the job. In the past, she would have scolded them for it, but now she was going to need that.

She was walking towards the port when she heard footsteps behind her. She stopped. In one swift motion, she drew her cutlass and faced the assailant, sure that she was about to be caught.

The man flinched, and pulled back his hood. The elven features of Johalder were clear, even in the dim moonlight.

She tensed upon seeing him, knowing that he could jeopardize his plans. "Leave, if you value your life."

Johalder smiled. "Don't you know?"

She kept her eyes trained on him. "Know what?"

"The king has finally approved of your journey. You're supposed to leave tomorrow, on his orders."

She didn't lower her cutlass. "If I know Father, he'll change his mind again."

"He's promised to let you go."

"How do I know you're not tricking me?"

Johalder sighed. "I'm not. I agree with you, though. He's more than likely to change his mind."

Silleom nodded. "Glad you know that. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go now."

"I guess. Goodbye."

She hesitated and turned to him, her eyes flashing. "Don't tell anyone until tomorrow."

"Yes, I won't. That I promise."

She looked at him. He fidgeted like a child under her gaze. Even if Johalder seemed like an honest person so far, she had to be sure he stayed quiet. "Have you eaten enough? Are you hydrated?"

He blinked, confused at her questions. "Yes, and yes, but why--"

"Then prepare for a long night. You're coming with me. Now."

*

Johalder gazed across the horizon, seeing no signs of land. The sun was rising, and the cool breeze felt refreshing on his skin. The voyage felt more like a cruise than a suicide mission.

Silleon approached and joined

him as he gazed out the deck. "Enjoying the journey so far?"

He turned to her and smiled. "Yes, but I fear that this feeling won't last long."

"Correct. Which is why I have to ask you a question. Which weapon best suits you?"

"A bow. Unfortunately, I left mine back at my abode before I joined you. I guess I'll have to make do with a sword."

Silleon snorted. "I packed for this mission. There's an armory below, stocked with the best weapons from the kingdom. A few handcrafted bows are there, as well as swords, shields, suits of armor, staves..."

He held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Okay. I get it. We're not going to have a shortage of weapons, I guess."

She motioned to the captain's cabin. Unlike most ships, the room that served as the living quarters for the ship's captain was right below the wheel. Johalder wondered why it had been placed there. Its placing made it much more vulnerable to attack.

"Come. We have much to discuss. Our journey to find allies for Sanlaeria will be more dangerous without knowing what we'll be doing."

Johalder nodded, and followed her inside.

*

The cabin was lit only by the sunlight that peered in through a window by the door facing the sea.

"Another vulnerability," Johalder mumbled.

Silleon smiled. "You have a tactician's mind. Although this seems like a horribly impractical spot to place a window, the ship is protected by ancient magics."

He stepped back, startled. "Hold on. Like, as in magic? The unpredictable force that sparked the first civil war?"

She rolled her eyes. "I don't know why people are so afraid of it, but yes. It started the first civil war, which divided Sanlaeria into two parts. Anyway, our kingdom is losing mages with every passing year. As tolerance of arcane magics has diminished in our people over time, they have had trouble finding more to train."

"Fear," Johalder muttered. "Fear has weakened our people."

"Well, yes, that's a factor, among many other things. But let's save the depressing stuff for later. Right now we need to plan the course of our journey."

She led him to a round table with two chairs, and they sat. A wide map of Nautilent was spread on it.

"This is where we are," Silleon said as she pointed to a spot a few inches above Sanlaeria on the map. "We're on the Harwhal Sea now. It's hard to miss, since it's the only sea on this map." She waved her hand over a sea vaguely shaped like a whale. "Our plan is to go here." She pointed to a country to the north of Sanlaeria, divided into three unnamed parts.

Johalder stared at the country she had pointed out. "The Old Lands? That's where our ancestors lived. We've lost contact with them a century ago. How can you possibly hope to find allies there?"

"Just before we lost contact with them, it was said that a powerful kraken was ravaging their kingdom. If the tales of their magic are true, then we can expect that they've probably defeated it by now."

"Or they haven't, and their kingdom, in ruins, is now a kraken's nest."

"I thought I said to save the depressing stuff for later."

"Just thinking realistically."

Silleon sighed. "Johalder, this entire mission is unrealistic.

"We're going to face creatures beyond our imagination. Evils that wield magics that can destroy an entire kingdom. And we're supposed to find an ally in the midst of all that."

Johalder looked at her and smiled. "I know. I was never accepted by my family anyway. Unrealistic is what they call me."