Chapter VIII

The sounds of insects heralding the approach of the evening were blending into background noise now. She sat by the campfire while cutting a few bits from her halve coconut. She closed her eyes, feeling the breeze. Today didn't feel very productive since there weren't any plans to go hunting or gathering. Since there's not much of a point to carry around lots of food when it's not exactly going to go anywhere anyway.  So the morning had started like so many others...  Walking, ... and walking..  then more walking.  Every other day she tried building an S.O.S out of rocks along the beach, but it always ended up getting washed away beneath her nose.  More than likely she suspects her escape attempts were no doubt being sabotaged by Damas. But what's the point of keeping them isolated on this island?  

The air she breathed in wasn't the usual vegetation or the ocean - it was none other than blood - her blood. The realization increased her heart rate incredibly when she saw black dripping from the blade. The knife dropped after Damas applied an oppressive amount of force against her wrist. Eyes widen, visibly shaken by the name Lazarus which had been notched out on the top layer of her skin. The grotesque-smelling liquid spilled over like oil as her veins pulsated violently. Hadn't she learned not to let others see through her? Hadn't Haven taught her that carelessness would make her a target? Trembling, her fingers splayed across her arm, trying to hide everything she's done. The devastating part is that she doesn't even remember doing it in the first place. 

Damas jerked back in horror, "The plague you carry - killed my mother."

The way Damas looked at her made her stomach drop.. watching and waiting for her to answer him, but she only gave a quiet response, 'Leon?' 

"I've broken every vow since the day I met you. I trusted you and you took advantage of me.  My oath of chastity, and obedience to the order. You should have left me. I would rather be dead than live another day as a sinner!" 

She choked through her now constricted throat, dreading the words that were about to come out, "Why are you trying to make me regret it!?" 

Damas turned his back on Blazerine, casting her in a silhouette of a man she had once loved. 

"Leon..."  She whispered, her voice shaking, "Sorry - I'm sorry for everything. If I had never gone through that portal - none of this would have ever happened." 

"Your apologies cannot wash away my sins!" He clenched his hand into a white-fisted knuckle and punched a palm tree. 

She ducked her head, fighting back the tears that so desperately wanted to shed, "How was I supposed to know?"

The silence after his footsteps had brought her some comfort. There was nothing she could really do with what Leon thought about her in 'this world.' 

 ----

The stench of urine and vomit stained the stone walls of the prison that contained murders that were awaiting trial. But there was one exception  - a thief named Fenix Spencer. Everyone was focused on the newcomer, just how he liked it. He brushed some hair out of his face so his onlookers could admire him even more. After giving a wink, he's shoved forward into the cell, nearly tripping in the ankle shackles. He took a seat on a wooden crate nearby with his legs spread wide open. Leaning over with poor posture to display he's relaxed even under the pressure. 

"Do any of you know how to run a ship?"  

So many comments soon followed in such a short amount of time, but he didn’t bother to elaborate yet. He spent several hours evaluating which prisoners looked fit enough to hold themselves on an open sea voyage. Afterward, he mentally forwards the intel to Lyrist. 

An hour later, a carriage arrived with the handmaiden; Red inside. She stepped out wearing a lush courtly vest that had golden brocade work throughout the collar, waist, and trim. A pair of long white trousers adorned with a half skirt embedded with the symbol of the Kenelem Kingdom. Two of the king's guards who accompanied her were personally hand-picked by Queen Lucien. Discreetly she shows the great royal seal to gain passage through the prison fortress. 

The king's guards brought the room to attention before Red anxiously approached the long narrowed cell. Politely she gave a fidgety bow before unraveling the parchment. 

"Prisons of Freyrgard. You've been given a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity - to be cleansed of all your misconducts and wrongdoings"

"What does this mean?" A prisoner uttered with a wheeze. 

"We'll be freedmen?" Another asked. 

"Raoul Lovel

Wyatt Wyon

Piers Joyce

Hawkin Noes

Serrell Emericus

As of this day, your lives have been spared. You will be compensated after five years of service by request of the crown." 

Red jittery motioned to the right guard and he dropped a large leather pouch filled to the brim. 

"The information of this assignment will only be given once we've embarked." 

"So we can't change our minds even if we wanted to." Hawkin laughed coldly. 

"Additional men are required as well. We will be receiving any volunteers at this time.  Transportation will arrive in proximity within two hours. You have until then to make your decision." 

"I'll see ya later." Fenix signaled and the jailer let him out of the cell. All his restraints were removed then he followed Red out to the carriage. The two guards open it first, revealing Elizabeth was inside - playing with a crossbow to occupy her time. 

"Uncle Phoenixy!" 

Her delicate steps remained unheard, her dainty and delicate frame nearly floating off the ground as she ran over to leap into his arms. 

"How's my little princess doing?" He gave her a big smooch on the cheek. 

She tipped her nose upwards, giving a confident and intimidating gaze, "Mister Phil wouldn't let me play with his crossbow so I took it." 

Fenix looked over her shoulder and saw that the guard had finally noticed his missing crossbow.

"Good girl. Phoenix is proud of you." 

She happily waved the sleeves of her bright yellow dress.

"Ahmen..." Red nervously cleared her throat, "We shall depart." 

Though their carriage was of the finest made, Fenix still felt every bump, every jolt that seemed intent on keeping him from at least trying to get a nap in during their ride. So he did the next best thing; drink. He took a couple swigs out of his flask before offering it to Red. 

“Oh~ You shouldn’t have….” She said rather coyly. 

When she took the flask, her grip was much more powerful than Fenix suspected, but not forceful. She sat back after she inhaled, a satisfied and content look appearing on her face as she sipped. 

"I know a drinker when I see one." Fenix chuckled.

"Noted." Red finished with a lick of her lips. 

When Sir Phil tried to take the crossbow from Elizabeth. Fenix gave him a look; the way a father looks at another man who comes between his daughter and her happiness. 

Sir Phil froze in a silent panic. Red swore if his body could have departed from his body, it would have been right there and then. 

Fenix gently pulled Elizabeth into his lap. Accidentally, she shot off an arrow that struck the wall right beside his head. Instead of being mad or afraid, he held her cheeks in his palms and playfully squished them. 

"You're a quick learner, aren't ya?" 

Red sank back into her seat, "These two… could be the best thing ever or the worst." 

Eventually, the carriage reached the very edge of the kingdom; the slums. It's mostly filled with shady merchants and unkempt animals that lay exhausted in tight small cages. The smell of rot and meat was heavy in the air when Fenix swung the door open. 

"Let's go Izzy." Fenix swooped her up onto his shoulder. 

"This isn't a place for a child!" Red cried.

"Oh, nonsense. These are my kind of folks after all. And where else am I going to get a more reliable captain?" 

"I assure you that the king can provide plenty of captains - qualified in fact." Red distressed. 

"The deal was I get to choose a crew of my own volition." Fenix genuinely cracked a smile. 

Many onlookers were quick to catch Fenix haggling his coins with various street vendors. Eventually, he settled for a spit-roasted boar leg. He tore a chunk off in between his teeth before offering Elizabeth some. Once the meat was raised close enough to her mouth, she took off a bite just like he did. Mimicking his mannerism precisely, they both chewed sloppily in - sync. 

Sir Phil scrambled through the muddy streets with an, "Excuse me. My apologies. Pardon." Upon passing a wagon, he briefly loses sight of them. A failed sense of duty clouds his mind. Was Fenix foolish enough to run away? After all, you could only trust the help of a clown for so long. He would never hear the end of it either. Losing not only a man but a child in the slums. Whatever anxiety he felt subsided when the breeze filled with an overwhelming fragrance of meat.  Fenix had given him a boar leg; it was the last thing he ever expected to happen. 

The front door of the local tavern flew open from the weight of a drunken man. Fenix occasionally sidestepped out of the way then went straight inside. He wasn't too keen on parties in high society. Having positive ties to the noble houses hasn't ever been once a priority for him. Plus, nobody here paid any mind to the fact he was bringing a child to an establishment like this one. Lowering Elizabeth from his shoulders, he sat her right on the bar counter. While she finished the rest of the boar leg, a tavern maiden slipped her a swig of milk - for being so cute. 

"You lookin' for trouble?" The bartender asked. 

The question was directed towards Sir Phil since he wore a cape embedded with a royal seal. The harshness of her tone felt like a slap in the face. About to open his mouth, Fenix waves him off, indicating he'll handle the situation from here on out. 

Fenix tossed a couple of coins, "What's the word around 'ere? I need a captain for my vessel. " 

The bartender picked up a coin and took a bit in order to determine if it was counterfeited by testing the weight between her chops. 

She snatched the rest and said, "Duncan as far as I know. He wandered in on another shipment of 'em Kenelemn refugees." 

Fenix threw three more coins, "Where can I find him?" 

She happily accepted, "The abandoned shipyard, next to the orphanage, you can't miss it." 

"Alright, Izzy say goodbye to the nice lady." Fenix leans down and lets Ezlibeth climb back onto his shoulders.

---

Down the way, there's a large run-down building covered by an overgrowth of plants and weeds. Some of the paint was already fading from the dampened walls. One could say it collected the orphan's tears over the years. Too fragile to face the harsh reality of the outside world. The nun stood outside, watching over as the children in raggy clothes played with one another. Since Elizabeth took an interest; he allowed her to play while they carry on with business. 

The shipyard looked more like a junkyard to them. It was only a bit of distance away from the orphanage but still was shadier nonetheless. The majority of the lower class has made themselves homes in the old battleships. Some have turned them into merchant shops that can't be regulated properly because it's not psychically on land to be taxed. 

For the first twenty minutes, they were no closer to finding the so-called Captain Duncan. And to add more fuel to the fire, most of the residents were pretending not to be home. It took a lot of coaxing to get them to at least answer through their locked doors. However, by the time they reached the final one. Fenix lost whatever amount of patience he had left and kicked the door wide open.  The impact caused a large chandelier to fall right on top of the owner. Shattered gold clattered and rang in an ear-splitting cacophony. Underneath the twisted metal, an outline of the man's limbs was angled in all the wrong directions. 

Fenix wearily looked around, hoping nobody else heard what had just transpired. Without saying a single word, they both stepped inside and shut the door behind them. Clearly, it was an accident on their behalf, but why was a chandelier so close to a door anyway? No verbal response from the victim. Most of all - there's no blood. 

Phil knew he wasn't wrong about everything and he wasn't going to stop him from saying so. Curiously he watched Fenix examine the body even further. He could read the uneasiness on his face, making him feel more uncomfortable. 

"What is it?" 

"He's already dead." Fenix declared, "Probably a day or two by the looks of it." 

"You don't mean -"

Fenix stood tall when he said, "Vampirism." 

"I hadn't seen any myself, but I have heard stories of hunters who were trained solely to annihilate their existence for the church. During the outbreak of the plague, they were easily identified by feeding off the deceased." 

Fenix interrupts, "Let's skid daddle before we get blamed for this mess." 

Life certainly had its ups and downs especially for the past twenty to thirty years for Sir Phil. When he was an adult he got in with the wrong crowd and did his time in jail without so much as snitching on comrades even though they didn’t deserve his cooperation. He had expected to never get a good job once he got out, hell he thought he’d have to get back in with that crowd just to make some money. Thankfully, desperation forges leniency. Instead of being a piece that had to be locked in place, he was free to roam the playing board as he pleased.

The next day; Red had risen long before the sun that morning in hopes of getting a head start on not only her regular responsibilities but also the final preparations for the upcoming Festival of Fire. It’s a tradition that’s upheld every year to honor those who have been lost at sea. Many pirates celebrate in hopes of receiving their blessings for a safe passage on their own sea voyage. The central bazaar was even more crowded than the surrounding main streets, with many running around to finish their preparations for the festival or standing around gawking at the decorations and food stalls that were being erected. There was nothing more satisfying than watching the people revel in the peace she had strived so hard for in her youth. 

Sir Brion greeted Red with a simple nod of the head, "Hail Red, well met." 

"Salutations." 

"How goes the king's request?" He asked.

"Which part? A dame pretending to be a maid or the task of babysitting?"

"You could have said no." He snickered. 

"Ha. Ha, 'cause treason looks really great on a recommendation." 

"Where's the pumpkin and the scarecrow?" His eyes aimlessly wandered about.

"I sent them off to play with the candle maker." 

There were mostly children on their tiptoes with their eyes wide, hoping to be the first to receive a candle. Some were running amuck and screaming with delight. Fenix kept his eyes on Elizabeth's smile for a moment. It was almost as if everything else in the world had faded into the background. Never in his wildest dreams - had he ever thought he would be put in this position. Her hand would have felt weightless in his grasp if it weren't for the responsibility of nurturing a life. 

The candle maker praised how patiently Elizabeth waited. Saying, she's such a well-behaved child, that he should be a proud papa. After receiving two candles, they started walking away from the stall. For a moment, she stopped in her tracks, looking ahead as if she were lost in deep thought. Fenix knelt down right in front of her so they were both at the same eye level. 

"What's wrong little sugar pea?" Fenix asked.

"I have been thinking..." Elizabeth said shyly, "Everyone thinks you are my papa." 

Fenix nervously ran a hand through his hair, unsure of how to respond. 

"Umm..." His eyes strayed away, "About that." 

"Is it okay - if it's okay with you." She offered one of the candles, "To say you are?" 

"Of course squirt." He smiled after taking the candle with his warm calloused hands, "If that's what you want." 

By sundown, some people began to arrive early to claim their little section of the tower. As the sky darkened and the stars appeared, the town crier took center stage. He greeted everyone and reminded them of the festival's history. Faint waves of light began sprouting up from every direction of the tower. Families, friends, and drifters had all gathered for this one night - not only for blessings but also for wishes. Some held their hands together and solemnly closed their eyes while whispering. Fenix simply lifted Elizabeth so she could light their candles with a firestick. The top rotates sails similar to that of a windmill as the impeller is turned by the heat below. 

A huge merchant ship lined the wharf with sailors rushing up and down to move barrels of various goods. Some even took time to inspect the conditions of the mast, ropes, and sails. The knights accompanying them, including Sir Brion and Sir Phil, had brought their horses on board and led them to the ship's stables. Eventually, Elizabeth escaped from Fenix's grasp to watch as they depart the harbor from the railing. He casually looked down at the girl with much concern but it subsided when he saw the excitement in her eyes. 

"How many knights have been deployed for this expedition?" Fenix asked after accepting a parchment. 

"Aproximity twenty-five knights." Captain Hopkins replied.

"Templars?" 

He answered, "Five." 

"A wizard....?" Fenix's train of thought was lost when a deafening bang reached his ears. 

Fire exploded in the sky, scattering thousands of tiny colorful sparks. One after another, the wizard swung wildly at the air. 

Fenix recognized who he was - the instant the wizard's hood unraveled, revealing a head that was mostly bald except for the patches of hair he hasn't ripped out yet. 

"Yeldir!?" 

As if struck by lightning, the wizard immediately turned around and opened his mouth, "Ah...it's  -" 

"Fenix."

 "Yes, yes, we knew that." Yeldir proclaimed. 

"What are you doing here!?" 

"Summoned to aide. Yes, it took us two months to conjure a teleportation spell of such great lengths." 

"Two months!?"

"He got quite tired. Tiring it was." Yeldir agreed with himself. 

"Who in the hell thinks this old geezer would be useful to us!?"

Wearily, Captain Hopkins looked over at the Templars to make sure they weren't aware of what he was about to say, "The Lakewell Hold used to evenly distribute wizards in all parts of the continent before the Pope got himself involved." 

Yeldir patronized the Pope's words, "All magic is - speaking with the “demons” or searching out “spirits of the damned!" And yet you believe that a man has been raised from death itself! Pray to an invisible god for redemption so you can bathe in eternal life!" 

"Where are you going with this mate?" 

Hopkins gave Yeldir the utmost questionable look then continued, "Traditionally wizards only specialized in one field, such as fire, water, or air. He's capable of doing all three."

Fenix leaned closer to him, "That's nice and all, but he's ancient. How long do you think this old man can withstand on his own?" 

"Shouldn't be too much of a problem with some Vitality Stones... which we seemed to have plenty of." He traced his finger along the amount written on the list. 

During the voyage; Fenix decided to learn some pointers from Captain Hopkins. He figured him and the guy could trade off and on whenever it's needed. Honestly, he thought everyone made a big deal out of his lack of experience, considering most of the driving force behind the ship was below.

When a thick veil of mist slowly crept up in the night. Fenix took notice of a fancy-dressed man. His pointy hat was decorated with colorful feathers and he held a silver lute close. 

"A bard? Am I missing something here?" 

"It's the only way to pass through the siren's territories. Music is the most effective way of drowning out their songs.  Unless you want our men plunging to their deaths." The Captain explained, "I would rather have a songstress, but this guy was the only one available. His stage name is Windsong. Apparently, he has the voice of an angel." 

Windsong ignored everyone around him but the sounds his lute made whenever he plucked the strings.

♫ ♪ ♬ 

Lying in wait

In the tainted waters

She calls

Singing us a song 

A sweet old song

Enchanting all those who hear

We better take our oars and go

Back to shore 

♫ ♪ ♬ 

Fenix headed back into his quarters with a water skin full of mead. It was the only way he could disguise his liquor in front of Elizabeth. The less appealing it looked - the better. That's the most he could do as a role model for the kid. Since she followed him everywhere, like a newborn chick that's blindly chasing after its mother hen. She held her arms up to allow him to undress her for bed. After he slipped a nightgown over her head, he laid her to rest in the hammock that was already occupied by Argo. The wolf simply grabbed the blanket in between his teeth and tucked her right in. 

Fenix slid a hand beneath his ponytail to touch a scar on the back of his neck. It's shaped like a cross; the same symbol that must be present on the clothing of the Templars. He took a swig of his drink before glazing out the porthole above his hammock. Hoping to drink himself into a stupor by the end of the night. 

♫ ♪ ♬ 

Row through the waves of emotions 

Whether you laugh or cry

Whatever face you decide to hide

Our fate is in your arms tonight 

♫ ♪ ♬ 

Red apologetically bowed her head to the queen, "I'm sorry I didn't request an audience with you earlier and I came in on a whim." 

"Etiquette is unimportant right now," Lyrist said nonchalantly. 

"The mountain ranges that bordered the kingdom have had a wyvern problem as of lately," Red replied.

"Wyvern?" 

"They're similar to dragons, but they are way smaller in size for the most part." Red explained, "A lot of mystical beasts have been migrating at a rapid rate due to the plague. A troupe planned to corral them into a valley so they could be picked off individually. However, they managed to break a hole in the protective barrier our light wizard conquered. Fortunately, the commander was resourceful enough to uproot a boulder to cork it temporarily."

He continued to write in the human tongue by tracing the outline that Blazerine's sunglasses had corresponded to his thoughts. 

"Your highness?" Red voiced.

"How long do you think it'll take for Freyrguard to end up like Kenelem?" 

"Surely we -" Red tried to say, but Lyrist cuts her right off.

"If the plan I executed fails..." He paused only to dip the feather. "It won't be long til the plague completely overtakes the south perimeter of the equator."

"You mean this has something to do with the recuse team you've dispatched?" Red query. 

"Everything." 

A jolt from the ship awoken Fenix mentality from his grog. Whatever brief momentary dizziness he had, completely dissipated beneath his shaking feet. Instead of seeing the turbulent sea outside the porthole, he saw a wooden hull. 

"Argo!" He snapped his fingers and pointed at the floor, "Stay!" 

In dead sleep, Argo's ears lifted to the sound of the urgency in his voice. He did exactly what he was told while Fenix brought Elizbeth up to date. 

"Listen to me. What do we do when Fenix isn't in the room?" 

"Keep the door locked." She murmured. 

"If somebody breaks in, what do you do?" 

"Tell Argo to attack them." She replied. 

"Good girl." He kissed her forehead. 

Fenix double-checked to make sure she had locked the door once he had stepped outside. He lost his footing as the ship took another rough hit, but this time it was in the opposite direction.  He then strode around and up the stairs at the edge, leading to the stern’s upper deck. 

The silhouette of a ship looms in the thick fog. From what the crew saw, there was more than one and they were wedged right between them. Captain Hopkins knew this was no ordinary bandit ambush - it was pirates. 

A scowl laced his features, he then turned to Windsong and said, "You better start singing or we'll going to have more than one problem on our hands!" 

♫ ♪ ♬ 

For all the years lived in vain

Take a drink

Before agony can devourer thee

Clench your teeth

And swallow the pain

Swallow it all away

Who knows where the pain begins or ends 

Maybe we'll know one day

Until then

We'll watch all the stars drift further away 

♫ ♪ ♬ 

When arrows came raining down from above, Sir Brion took action. He ordered his comrades to take the 'hedgehog formation'. Tightly they enclosed themselves in a circle with their bodies hidden behind their shields. "Embrace!" Altogether as a unit, they raised their shields to deflect the assault of arrows.  

Yeldir stood aside and reached into his robe's pocket to remove a small satchel of seeds. They had been left over from his experiments; when he tried to eradicate the vine infestation of Norwood. He took a handful and threw them high above his head. At that very moment, his blue eyes shimmered with light. Furrowing his brows even more intensely, the wave of light steadies itself until it becomes a solid that engulfs his entire irises. Before the seeds could completely fall back down. A wind that gathered around the outside of his body had created a circular shield to protect himself from an arrow. He used this same shield to launch the seeds into the other ship. 

What would have taken weeks, happens within seconds. The outer shell of the hard pod cracks upon impact. A tendril stem breaks free from its node and expands twining leaves that twist around anything in its path. Three pirates were bundled up by the vines, unable to break through its remarkable tensile strength.

 Fenix and Sir Phil fought off anyone who tried to interrupt Yeldir's spell-casting. He's the sole reason they had an upper hand in this fight, and they hoped to keep it that way. Oddly enough, the old man seemed to be having fun despite the dangers. 

The five templars redirected their attention to the opposite ship. The power of their raw strength easily neutralized any enemy who got in the way. Those who tried to even surrender weren't given a second glance. A man begging for mercy was left with a stream of blood spurting out from his neck, and the man's body fell. The head that flew into the air still carried the fear from before his death. 

The door to Elizbeth's room was kicked in and the broken lock dropped with a clank. The little girl's scream was enough for Argo to take action without a given command. He lunged for the first thing he saw come through the opening; a stranger's arm. Snarls vibrated between the canine's sinking teeth. 

"Stupid mutt!" He punched the wolf relentlessly. All it did was make the mongrel's teeth sink in even further. 

Elizbeth looked horrified from the corner she cower in. She cried hysterically after Argo was stabbed not only once, but twice by a shiv.

Fenix rushed down the stairs and ran through all the corridors. From a distance away he could see that the door had been smashed in. Drawing in closer, the cries of Elizabeth filled his ears. An unknown voice threatened to kill her if she didn't stop.

 Inside; the bloody Argo tumbled to the floor as if his body could no longer coordinate with his limbs. 

The injured man who looked to be in his fifties had Elizabeth dangling in the air by the collar of her nightgown. 

The moment her eyes met Fenix's she cried, "Papa!" 

Startled from being caught off guard, he tossed the girl into the wall. She fell limp beside Argo like a ragdoll. 

"Stay away from my little girl!" Fenix's teeth gritted together in rage. 

Like two streams of iron clashing, their weapons collided. A two-headed spear versus a cutlass. The muscles on Fenix's body were bulging, and he could feel that his strength is far beyond what it had ever been before. When did he become like this? Is it because he found something that's worth protecting? The veins in his arms looked as if they might escape his body when he swung downward in a chopping motion. 

The pirate blocked it just in time, but the blow had almost completely knocked him off his feet. Staggering, his cheek gets nicked as he hears the steel whiz past him once more. He backed further away to gather his strength. In the same instant, Fenix charged forward in a single movement. A gut-wrenching scream exhaled from the man's lips while the tip drove in between his ribs. Blood splashed across Fenix's face just after he dug deep enough to pierce the heart. 

He kicked the body aside before turning to look back at Elizabeth and Argo. He shook violently, making his fingers ache. Then, he could no longer hold his spear. It felt as if he lost his entire grip, not only on his weapon but his reality. Slowly he approached before falling to his knees with a loud thud. His face was downcast as if he was groveling for forgiveness. He placed a comforting hand on the wolf's lifeless body. Quietly he thanked him for giving his life. Then he took Elizabeth into his arms and cradle her like a newborn. Gradually, she opened her eyes and saw Fenix's bloodied appearance. Surprisingly, she reached out and touched his face. Tiny fingers smeared some of the blood on his cheek. He already knew the question that lingered in her eyes.  

"Don't worry, this isn't my blood."  

He knew it wasn't the usual reaction a small child would have after being exposed to such a violent incident. She seemed to be more concerned for his well-being than her own. And with no concept of what death truly is yet. Presumably, Argo appeared to be in a never-ending slumber. 

When he heard footsteps out in the hallway, he adjusted Elizabeth into one arm and grabbed his spear. He stepped to the side of the entrance to eliminate himself from the enemy's field of vision. Ignoring the sweat that was forming on his brows, he held his breath in anticipation. Whoever came through is nearly spiked in the neck. 

Blood trickled down from where the tip had grazed the man's skin. His hand stayed hovered a centimeter away from the spear, but he dared not move any further. He was surrounded by strange and eerie silence before deciding to finally say something - anything... 

"Fenix?" He stammered, "It's me." 

Elizebeth's touch suddenly felt like an electrifying jolt zinging through Fenix's body, making his strained muscles release their tension. The grip on his weapon loosen before he lowered it from Sir Phil's neck. 

"I almost killed you."

Phil's eyes shone with no evil intent whatsoever. Truth be told, someone who had lived in a religious society that's governed by laws and rules still hasn't gotten used to living in a world like this. A place where anyone could raise a sword and spill blood at any given time. 

"But you didn't." Phil tried his best to keep his voice calm, but after the shock, his voice was rather hoarse from scraping that close to death. 

"What's the status of the fight?" 

"We've successfully won the battle with no casualties and minor injuries." He explained, "A few are scouting the ships now to take whatever is useful or can be salvaged." 

Although he wasn't entirely sure if Fenix was listening to him or not. He was caressing Elizebeth bruised neck as if his heartfelt inexplicable pain. Yet unlike his soft gestures, his expression was dark and grim. 

 Fenix lulled Elizebeth back to sleep by resting his hand over the front of her eyes. 

"Just rest for now."

"Where are you going?" Phil asked. 

"I'm taking my daughter to the infirmary."

 Phil looked back at the condition of the wolf and sigh quietly to himself, "Looks like we're going to need to find a new babysitter. 

It was raining hard outside as if nature was deviously trying to wash away yesterday’s bloodbath. For the first time in days, Fenix had voluntarily placed his hand on the steering. Then when he least expected it, a familiar voice came from the copper pipe next to the wheel. It’s connected to the captain’s quarter down below, where the fish head sat. Elizebeth was staying there for the time being while the bodies were being disposed of. He did have to make up some excuses about Argo's absence. At least until he's able to get a replacement. 

The growling of his stomach made him take a bite out of the bread that had been left for him. The surface felt like tree bark and the inside was hard as a rock. He raised it to the sky, letting the rain soften the dough. 

"I swear they're trying to kill me." 

-----

A woman who was tall enough to be mistaken for a man. She slightly gave off a sense of innocence, maybe due to her droopy hazel eyes. And yet she hid her muscular arms by adjusting her frilly sleeves that were a part of the maid outfit. She lifted the red wig from her dresser and pulled it over. Hair cascaded from the crown of her head and then fell over her shoulders. For the final touches, Red dabbed some rosewater on her nape and bosom. 

Blending in with the other maids wasn't too difficult. They mostly talked about money troubles. Although the female knight's salary was better than a maid's salary. It wasn't by much even with having to risk her own life and body for duty. But she does get to retire way before a maid does. Usually, it's around the mid-twenties because of fertility. Commoner or noble, a man expects the lineage to be carried on - one way or the other. Unlike the others, getting married was a difficult feat to achieve. She's looked upon as an undesirable marriage partner from lack of family connections. No inheritance, no arrangements, and especially no dowry. 

Red met the natural light that poured in from the large windows of the library. The bookcases that reached all the way to the ceiling were filled with various materials organized with information. Some were bound in leather, others in cloth, or written on parchments. And all she heard was the rustling of pages turning and the scratching of scholar's quills. Only patrons of the king were given special permission to enter.  She was only given the privilege because the queen of Kenelem is here. 

Red approached the pile of pillows that nestled the queen inside. She didn't look refined at all. Almost like a cat who was sunbathing the day away. 

"Greetings your highness." 

Without looking, the queen acknowledged the courtesy with a slight wave of her hand.

"I must inform you of the conditions of your daughter. Her deranged outbursts of violence have increased over the past several days."

"She sure does make a lot of noise despite being a mute." The queen frowned a little and continued reading the next paragraph of her book. 

"I've also intercepted another message she tried sending to the king. It provides a good amount of information which may be worth investigating."

"Such as what? The claims of me not being her real mother?" She laughed, "We already know you're not in the good standings with the king. Do you really think your reputation can handle another scandal? 

Red was rendered speechless and she couldn’t say any more than clicking of her tongue. 

"You shouldn't ever underestimate me." The queen declared, "Just because I am "alone." That doesn't mean I am alone." 

Red mustered what little courage she had left and asked, "We can compromise, right?" 

"The hair was a nice touch too." The Queen stuck her nose back into the book. 

She doubted the queen could comprehend the page. She had never seen it before, but the text was in an obscure script. It came from a restricted area. The king had hired the best scholars to translate them, but they had only cracked half a sentence so far.

"Listen to my offer." The queen said, "Forget this dull work and I'll help you return to the battlefield you crave. Just keep Elena away from the king... by any means. I will decode these texts and let you claim the glory."

"How will he believe that I was the one who did?" 

"That's all up to you." Lyrist knows few people would refuse such an offer, given his looks and status. Thanks to Blazerine's futuristic glasses, he could access the rich knowledge that was buried in these old books. 

Suddenly, a burst of blue dots filled his sight - announcing the words; "Message received."