Cult of Al-shaytan

HELIOS strode alongside the ship's captain, who led him through various cabins. Beside him were Ade, Gash, and two other crew members from the captain's ship. One of them, likely the first mate, kept a hand firmly on the hilt of his sword as they moved along the ship.

Helios wasn't concerned. His presence and reputation were usually enough to command respect, especially from pirates. And when that didn't work, he had more than enough power to subdue them by force if needed. After some time wandering the ship, the captain finally led them to his private cabin.

With a single glance from Helios, Gash and Ade sprang into action, tearing through the room in search of anything suspicious. Helios, meanwhile, scanned the area with a keen eye, trying to detect anything out of place. After a few minutes of thorough searching, the room turned up clean.

Too clean.

Helios had sailed the ElderTide Sea long enough to know that no sailor was ever this tidy. There was always something to hide. Yet, there were no goods being transported, no material onboard that seemed important enough to warrant a full crew.

"So why are you really out here on the sea?" Helios demanded, still scrutinizing the room.

"I'm a sailor," the captain replied, flashing a smile. "This is what I do."

Helios returned the smile, though his was colder. "And what is it exactly that sailors do? Drift aimlessly across the ocean for fun?"

The captain chuckled. "I understand your concern. We just delivered some goods to the island of Vailand. The chief there needed a shipment of salt."

"Hmm." Helios' eyes narrowed. "Then where's the payment from the trade?"

"In the treasury," the man nodded. "Your colleague went in that direction," he smiled again, a gesture that was beginning to get on Helios' nerves.

He nodded and then walked towards the table where several documents were laid. He glanced at the papers and lifted one of them up. It was a letter folded into an envelope that was half opened. He lifted the letter and began to read the contents.

"To the Cult of Al-shaytan," the letter began, and the first word shook Helios to his core. There was something about those words, Al-shaytan, that made him feel like he had an exposed nerve. "In three months, the visitor shall arrive. Please prepare enough room and enough nourishments for our guest. It takes great peril to travel through the mist, and greater peril to stay with us. He has chosen your chapel as his place of rest. I will contact you again if there are any changes." The letter ended there and a signature was added to the end. It was just two letters. A.H

Helios for a brief moment couldn't necessarily tear his gaze from the letter, his entire focus was on that name and he began to hear the whisper in his head again. "Ahh. Narvach," the voice whispered. "You have finally begun to come in contact with your destiny," the voice was clearer this time, stronger and he could even feel the emotions behind the voice.

Whatever that voice was, it was old, and it was dying, that much Helios could tell but before the voice could say one more word someone called his name. "Helios!" he glanced sideways to see Gash gazing at him with ferocious intent.

"What does the letter contain?" He demanded.

"I am not sure," he said as he glanced up to the captain of the ship. "Who is A.H?" he demanded. "Might that be an acronym for Anderson Hall?"

The captain smiled, as usual but this time there was a darkness about the smile. "You sure are one very attentive person, Narvach." He turned his back on Helios and began to walk outside as multiple crew members trooped into the room, weapons raised.

"What are you doing?" Helios demanded.

"What else, you got me. I am a pirate. My name is Anderson Hall and that is the last name you will hear before you die." The captain said as he slammed the door on his way out. Helios, Ade and Gash were surrounded by at least twelve crew members and all of them were armed to the tooth.

On the deck of the ship, Benjamin Ulr stood with his hands resting on his battle ax, his eyes half-closed. He had followed the group initially but decided to return to the deck. He wasn't fond of enclosed spaces. Even on the Retribution, he spent little time below deck. Used to the extreme cold, he often preferred the open air, spending most nights above deck.

He stood still, nearly immovable, when the sound of metal whirring reached his ears. His eyes opened slightly as he glanced to the side, noticing the bridge connecting the ship to the Retribution being pulled away. His brow furrowed as the crew around him began brandishing weapons.

Apart from the helmsman, an elderly figure who looked at least seventy, there were about fifteen other people with him. All of them slowly shifted into formation, placing Benjamin at the center. The helmsman stepped down from the wheel, glancing at him with a smile.

"Before you rush toward your near-certain death," Benjamin said with a scoff, "allow me to introduce myself."

The pirates stiffened, exchanging glances, but Benjamin continued. "My name is Benjamin Ulr. I'm a Cryptid, and I assimilate the Amber potion. I'm an Epic Grade, though my commander tells me I'm on the verge of becoming a Celestial. But who cares about ranks?" He smiled.

As he spoke, the old helmsman pointed his staff at Benjamin, and a burst of blue light shot toward him, exploding on contact. When the explosion's light faded, Benjamin remained standing, his red hair swirling in the aftermath. His battle ax, now in his hand, had blocked the blast.

With a glance, he raised his leg as though about to step forward. By the time his foot touched the ground, he was in front of the helmsman. The pirates blinked in disbelief. Even the old man staggered back, a cough caught in his throat.

Before anyone could react, Benjamin raised his ax high and brought it down with brutal force, smashing it through the old man's skull. Blood splattered across the metal boards.