Unread Messages

After relaxing for half an hour, Morn was finally ready to use the communication artefact Oscairo had given him. He removed the small red book from a pouch at his waist, then set it down on his desk. He then began to ponder what he should tell Oscairo, as he needed to ask about contracts, but also should inform Oscairo how he was doing. After considering it for a few more minutes, he flipped open the notebook and held his pencil in hand.

The moment he opened the notebook, his brows furrowed as he stared at the page.

'Hello my friend, how are you enjoying my lovely gift? Is the boat treating you well?'

'Hello! It seems you're busy, I'll check in again tomorrow!'

'Haha, good morning, how are you today? Have you arrived in Palk yet, do you have any plans?'

'Morn, I am growing concerned about your lack of responses, has a pirate kidnapped you? Please respond as soon as possible to update me about your current situation, I'd also like to hear how Palk is doing after being gone for so long!'

'Morn, I fear that you have perished. If you have died, please come back- I don't know when the next opportunity to find an ally will come, I am getting tired of this island!'

'Morn! Answer me dammit!'

'I apologise if my messages have come across as anxious, but your lack of response has me spiralling into the depths of madness.'

'Morn, I have revised a century of knowledge and found a way to check on your status through our contract, it seems you are okay. Perhaps you are simply ignoring me?'

'Reply as soon as possible you forgetful oaf.'

Morn grimaced as he read through the increasingly desperate messages left by Oscairo over the week or so he had been gone. 'Wasn't he the one who reminded me not to send too many messages?' Rolling his eyes, Morn set about crafting a response.

"I apologise for my long absence, do you have any way for me to form a contract with a farseer who is not a leviathan? I am doing fine, thank you for your concern, I am settling into my role as Rain well and have recruited a farseer and slain a Leviathan known as the Florist, though I was unable to obtain his Vaihn heart due to certain circumstances."

After writing his message, Morn set down his pencil, ready to wait for Oscairo's reply. Much to his shock, a moment after setting down the pencil, a reply formed on the page.

'Morn, I'm glad to see your response! I apologise for calling you an oaf, I was in a bad state. That is amazing news, a Farseer is important to any crew. If you want to make a contract with them, simply emit Vaihniir from your fingertip and draw a contract on a piece of parchment. When you finish, have them stamp their fingerprint anywhere on the page in their own blood, then you must do the same. The contract will then be enforced by both party's own soul. Try to keep me updated more often in the future, thank you. Sincerely, your friend Oscairo.'

Morn quickly read the reply, sighing at Oscairo's eccentricities. 'That pirate sure is odd, but I guess what else can I expect from a several century old man lost in the depths of a storm using an avatar made out of hallucinations.'

Using the last of the books energy for the day, Morn sent one last reply:

'Thank you! I will make good use of the information. I am now heading to Nauv where I will be looking for another crew member before returning to Palk to hunt. Do you know anything about Novlasbrit? Kind regards, your friend Morn.'

After writing the message, Morn slammed the notebook closed with a sense of exasperation. The short message exchange had left him more tired than assassinating the Florist. With nothing else to do, Morn laid a bedroll on the floor, then went to sleep for the night. In the morning, he would make a contract with Lucy to ensure she didn't betray him.

***

The next morning, Morn rolled out of bed feeling slightly sore, but much better than he had after Tyrvoh. His management of Vaihniir had been much better this time, targeting only two pirates rather than over a dozen as he had when fighting Franta's crew.

Happy at his improvement, Morn enjoyed a small meal of smoked meats and bread from his pack, before heading out to the deck to find Lucy. As he stepped onto the deck, he saw the many people he had saved smiling and talking to each other happily. Many were enjoying glasses of water or fruit juice, and others were eating large helpings of various foods. His spirit stove was set out on the deck, and Lucy sat next to it, preparing food.

It seemed she hadn't been lying when she'd told the Florist she had cooking skills on the first day Morn had seen her. From the looks of it, she had cooked breakfast for the many people on the boat. Somehow, she had also found his wardrobe, dressing herself in an outfit similar to his own, but with much more white than his own. Perhaps to fit her new nickname as 'Snow.'

Morn walked to Lucy's side, crouching down beside her. On the way, the people he passed gave him appreciative nods, smiles hanging on their faces. He enjoyed the sight, the rewards for his hard work. Though he did save them partially because he wanted to hunt the Florist, and partially because he wanted to recruit Lucy, he also couldn't deny that letting people be enslaved when he could do something about it didn't sit right with him.

An attitude that would perhaps get him in trouble one day, but that he would never abandon so long as he had the choice. If he stopped helping others, then he would just become like the pirates he had hunted, pilfering and slaying for his own good. At least this way, he could help more than he killed, maybe helping him maintain his morality in the long run.

As thoughts spun around in his head, Lucy turned to face him, a smile on her face. She gave him a small mock-salute and winked.

"Hello, Captain! Snow, reporting for duty!" Lucy spoke, giggling. "Do you like my outfit? I hope you don't mind… It didn't seem like you'd be using it."

Morn shook his head and spoke in a low whisper, "It suits you, and suits the image I want our crew to have. We'll have to get you a mask, perhaps somewhere in Nauv. I've mulled it over, and I've decided to investigate Novlasbrit. If I find a way to rescue your friend, I'll do it."

Perhaps it was having the support of Oscairo, or perhaps it was the smiles of the people on the deck, but he felt eager to do something, something big. He wanted to save more people, and he could only do that with a crew. The man named Bel would be a good start.

Lucy shook her head, "I knew you'd make that decision, hehe. I can read you quite well, you know." Lucy extinguished the spirit stove, done cooking her food. "And I suppose you'll ask me to sign that contract you mentioned next. Well, let's get on with it.'

Lucy stood, a small bowl of rice, meat, and various vegetables in her hand. She ate as she walked towards Morn's cabin, not waiting for him to follow. Surprised at her initiative, Morn followed her hastily.

Upon entering the cabin, Morn sighed as he noticed Lucy sitting in his chair, her knees tucked up to her chest as she spun around in his chair, eating her breakfast. Morn crossed the room, stopping the spinning with his hand. Without saying a word, he pushed the chair back with Lucy in it to make space, then opened up a drawer on the desk and produced a sheet of thick parchment.

Still ignoring Lucy, who continued spinning just out of reach, Morn produced Vaihniir from his ungloved right hand and started writing the terms of the contract. After several minutes, he finished the terms, with them being akin to:

'Neither party can harm the other unless first provoked. The creator of the contract will pay the signee the agreed upon payment for each successful expedition. The signee will not abandon the creator of the contract unless the terms of the contract are breached by them first, or for the duration of the contract, whichever comes first. The contract will only end once both parties agree unless the contract terms are broken. The signee will give accurate information to the contractor using her abilities. The signee will not intentionally lead the contractor into danger, and the contractor will not force the signee into danger. Etc…'

After double checking the contract, Morn passed it to Lucy, then informed her of how to sign it. Although a tinge of apprehension was evident on her face, she quickly used a dagger Morn provided her to pierce her thumb. When a small bead of blood formed, she pressed her thumb onto the paper. With a brief flash of light, the contract disintegrated into black fog and poured into both Morn and Lucy. A small raindrop appeared on Lucy's wrist, and another appeared on Morn's.

Both felt the terms of the contract in their mind, knowing that if they broke them, they would suffer backlash from their own soul. Both had different thoughts.

Lucy felt a hint of excitement, 'I wonder how he did that.. What secrets does this world hold beyond what I know?'

While Morn, meanwhile, was relieved 'Now I don't have to worry about my farseer abandoning me… again!'

With the contract signing complete, Morn and Lucy began to discuss the future of the crew…