The Last Lands

CHAPTER 15 RETRIBUTION AND QUICKLY

“Hurry!” Ban shouted, running into the rising tide to one of the three moored boats. “To the ship!”

The sortie began to scramble, running in towards the shallow turquoise.

“Belay that!” Captain Albahr shouted, standing firmly on the sound.

Confused, the crew looked to their captain.

“Captain! The ship...” Ban said, exasperated.

“She is lost.” The captain said solemnly, nodding towards it.

The Hunnigan's Glory was bathed in flame. Thick plumes of black and grey smoke reached to the ever gleaming sun. The fire had caught the mast and was climbing, battling against the wet wood. The sails caught alight and quickly went up. From the shore-line, they watched as timbers began to splinter and heard as the mast sundered. Droplets of Hel rained down onto the deck, as the powerless crew looked on in despair. Artifae watched as his new home was taken from him, feeling a lonely sting of fear and pain, dreading to think what the captain must be feeling, when a realisation struck him in the ribs.

Taisha.

He turned to the captain with fear swelling his eyes, and the captain met his gaze with a deep sadness. Without a word, Artifae strode forwards, feeling the cool water lap up against his trousers and into his boots. He struggled against the waves as the helpless crew coughed and spluttered against the smoke.

“Mister Sajaestan.” The captain called out.

Artifae turned around as he reached one of the floating life-boats.

“We have to save Taisha!” He called out to the statuesque figure in the turban, before looking to Misha, could not meet his gaze.

The death rattle of the ship continued as the orange and red inferno continued to consume it, save for that and the restless waves, a silence fell on the inlet. Cptain Albahr began reciting something under his breath, closing his eyes as if in prayer. Ban slowly passed though the water, and cautiously stood by their captain.

“Captain, our supplies, everything we have is still on there. We have to try.”

The captain met his first-mate with a sharp look and gritted his teeth.

“I will not risk anyone's lives for supplies. The ship is lost.”

The crew assembled on the beach began talking amongst themselves in low, fearful voices. Very few were left on the ship, but their absence was heart-wrenching. Misha sat herself heavily down on a bank of sand, running her hand through her hair.

“It was that rotten Mountin' Eve.” Kutja grumbled swinging his heavy pistol onto his shoulder. “Never shoulda let that one on board.”

“We don' know it was 'im.” The Mud-goblin sailor said.

“Course we do. 'oo else?” Kutja growled, stepping away from the harsh sunlight and back to the shade of the trees.

The captain watched as his home and livelihood continued to succumb to the flames, unflinching.

“So what do we do now?” Ban asked in a low voice.

“Yeah, how we gonn' get home?” The High-Eve asked, scratching at a wound on his chin he received in the fight against the brigands.

The captain sighed heavily, unshackling his sickle-sword and descending slowly onto the sand. He crouched before the wandering waves, offering a hand to it as it ebbed and flowed before him. Artifae watched him turn human before his eyes. This mysterious benefactor of theirs, a captain without a ship, and now a handler of hungry dogs with nothing to feed them with.

“We could head back to the ruins.” Artifae offered. “It'll probably be safe there.”

“Too risky.” Ban said. “Those pirates know where that is, and if they're looking for something around there, they'll want to pay us another visit.”

“Let 'em.” Kutja said, leaning against a thin tree.

“We still got the skiffs.” The Mud-goblin said. “We can head back on them.”

The Sea-Eve in a bandana scoffed.

“No way we reach anywhere in them. The waves will knock us right off.”

“Then what:? Stay out here and sing campin' songs?” The High-Eve said, mockingly.

“Just wait for the captain's suggestion.” Ban said sternly.

“Why?” Kutja said menacingly. “He's got no ship, leadin' us out to find treasure, and all we see are them tusked terrors out there and a buncha skulls. He got us into this mess, we should figure out a solution for it ourselves.”

Ban stepped towards the treeline coolly.

“Watch your mouth, Moljac.” He said to Kutja. “We're still under his command.”

Kutja gritted his teeth, stepping away from the tree and towards the first mate, swinging Ol' Beauty around until he clasped it in both hands.

“Command?” He spat. “Who the Hel do you think you are, lad?”

Artifae watched as Ban's eye twitched, their hand coming towards their sword.

“Back off Kutja.” The Sea-Eve called. “It's no-one's fault, 'cept that Mountain-Eve's.”

“Yeah.” The Mud-goblin said in a crackling voice. “We're all in this together. We just gotta figure something out.”

The High-Eve stepped towards them.

“No, he's right. We stranded in a bloody inlet, and no way out, 'cept for heading towards those terror-tusks or whatever, or pirates. Now, we got no way offa this rock and he's just bloody sittin' there!”

Ban turned their icy stare to his, and back to Kutja's.

“Quiet down, both of you. You're not makin' this any easier.”

“You ain't bossin' me round, boy.” Kutja snarled, jabbing Ban in their chest with a thick finger.

A commotion broke out as the group descended into squabbling and pushing. Artifae sprung to his feet, trying in vain to separate the Dvergr from the rapidly infuriating Ban. All we're threatening and yelling, but none were listening. He called out to those he knew by name, but was shoved aside by a flailing elbow. He stood back, sighing, when he saw the captain turn to them in his peripherals.

“We will stay here.” He said to Artifae.

“Captain?” Artie asked as the chaos behind them slowly stopped.

“We should stay on the beach. If anything, the smoke will prove a good signal for any passing ships. We should be ready if any pass.”

“What if the pirates see it instead, Captain?” Ban asked, shrugging off a lingering Dwarven hand on his shoulder. “They might be prompted to attack us.”

“I think not.” The captain said, shaking his head. “You mentioned they were looking for something? After our recent skirmish, I imagine we have accelerated their need to find it.”

“Yeah.” Misha said from behind them all. “Didn't they mention something about a golden skull?”

The sortie murmured in agreement amongst themselves. Captain Albahr nodded.

“What about our food? An' water?” The Mud-Goblin asked.

“We shall have a station of men here at all times, but we must make foraging parties up to the river. There will surely be some food around there.”

“You think we can eat one of them terror-tusks?” The High-Eve asked derisively.

Artifae looked back to the burning ship as they continued to deliberate. The fire was almost static, nothing else broke or splintered. It was an oil painting he saw in a museum once, but below it, coming towards them, were several black spots in the ocean.

“There!” He called out, racing back to the shallows.

Several barrels were slowly being drawn to them by the current, and something smaller besides. The crew assembled by the boats, watching as four barrels and two survivors made their way towards them. Artie saw under the burning light and thick veil of smoke, was a brightly covered figure holding someone very pale.

“Hurry!” Ban shouted, jumping into a skiff with the Sea-Eve and the Mud-goblin, and the three of them rowed out towards the bobbing objects.

“Do you think that's her?” Misha asked, standing next to Artie.

Artifae tried to swallow, but there was an obstruction. He watched as the little ship rocked against the assailing waves under the pillars of black and orange and red.

“I wonder if this was all worth it.” Misha said when Artie didn't answer.

“What is?” Artifae croaked.

“Coming out here.” She said tiredly. “Y'know, you spend all day watching the Spherevision, thinking you need some grand adventure, then you come here, and it's monsters and mosquitoes.”

She sighed and turned to him.

“Do you think it's worth it?”

He didn't answer, and only watched as the crew of the life-boat reached the brightly coloured Loromas and hoisted his soaking feathers onto the ship, and then the pale figure. The Sea-Eve waved his hands back to the sortie as a signal, and the crew on the beached laughed and cheered as they returned to the beach.

The barrels lagged behind them, but were headed to the beach. Before Ban and the survivors reached the shallows, the mast finally collapsed, bringing down the last of the burning rigging. The ship had finally begun to sink.

“Look, it is her!” Misha said excitedly, as Artie saw the soot-clad, dishevelled hair of Taisha huddled up in the skiff.

He and Misha ran into the shallows to greet them, gingerly taking her hand onto the beach.

“Taisha!” Misha called. “ Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

“I'm fine.” Taisha said, shaking.

“What happened?” Artie asked, checking her arms and face for wounds and cuts.

His thumb reached behind her long ears, and her large eyes looked up to meet them. The small gaps of sclera had begun to turn red. Artifae sucked in a quick breath, no longer smelling the sea of the smoke, but the lingering touches of her flowery perfume.

She's so beautiful, even after escaping a fire.

He swallowed heavily and nervously looked away, as Ban stepped out of the boat, helping the parrot-folk onto the shore. The captain came towards them, checking their status for himself, and looking one last time at his ship as it descended under the waves.

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The sky had turned pink and blue by the time the flames were extinguished. A small scouting party had dissapeared into the woods, led by Ban, while Kutja was commanded to remain here, but had found very little. The barrels that arrived had thankfully been filled with fish and seeds, thrown to the sea by the Loromas before the fires had consumed the majority of the deck. One of their crewmembers, an Orkan knocked unconscious by Sylo Teht during his escape, had sadly passed with the ship.

Taisha sadly told them how she had smelled the smoke while cleaning the infirmary, and by the time she reached the top-deck, the inner-deck had been swallowed by fire, and the last life-boat was already gone. She sat on the sand between Artifae and Misha, staring towards the dark cloud of smoke that still drifted along the waves. It's acrid smell clung to Artie's hair and clothes, a lingering memory as the ship vanished from sight, leaving only memory, along with the majority of their food, water and clothes. He thought about his coat and pocket full of silver Legacies, now treasure for divers and fish. He placed his chin on his forearms as he rested them on his knees.

“I don't think it is worth it.” He said quietly, startling Misha who was lounging opposite him.

“Hm?” She said tiredly.

“You remember you asked me if I thought this adventure was worth it? I'm starting to think it probably isn't.”

Misha reluctantly brought herself closer, dusting the fine sand off of her hands.

“What makes you say that?”

Artifae dug his heel into the sand, watching the golden and white sand turn brown. There were small white and black stones buried within, and the grains stuck to his boot. A fly grazed his hand, and he scratched at it irritably.

“I guess I just thought of having adventures like Captain Wrongun Zip, in those books.”

“Oh yeah.” Misha snorted. “I used to read those. Who wrote those again?”

“I've never even heard of them.” Taisha said quietly.

“I don't remember.” Artie said, scratching at his head.

“Estrano Papryka.” Said a voice behind them.

The three turned and saw Ban, almost silhouetted by the sun, standing over them.

“Oh yeah, that's the guy. Those books were good, I haven't read them in years.” Misha said cheerfully.

Ban instead shook their head.

“He was a terrible alcoholic, you know.” He said, almost angry. “Papryka. Creepy to women, too. Died of a drug overdose in a dive bar toilet.”

The three exchanged concerned looks between themselves, as Ban abruptly turned to leave.

“Oh...cool.” Misha said, a little shocked.

“Great, so I can never read those again.” Artie said, annoyed.

“What were they? Captain...Rummin? Was it?” Taisha asked.

“Captain Wrongun.” Misha corrected. “Wrongun Zip.”

“He was this cool swashbuckler captain in a fictional world that was, like, all islands and monsters.” Artie said wistfully. “Captain of The Ocean Star, he went around fighting monsters, sleeping with beautiful women...”

He trailed off, not trying not to look Taisha in the eye.

“Y'know...” He said, clearing his throat. “He would just find treasure, and mystery, and there was always a different villain in each story, and always a challenge, and he always beat it. There was never any bugs, or blood, really.”

“Yeah, it wasn't exactly one for character development or nuanced subtext.” Misha added playfully.

“What kind of stuff did you read when you were younger then?” Artie asked Taisha.

She shrugged.

“Nothing really.”

“Oh X.” Misha laughed. “Don't tell me it was nothing but religious texts?”

“Pretty much.” Taisha said flatly.

“Did you at least watch stuff on the Spherevision?” Artifae asked.

“We didn't have one, growing up.” She said, shaking her head. “Father said it was too corrupting to watch stuff like that.”

Misha groaned.

“Then what did you do? Just read The Ture all day?”

“No.” Taisha said, laughing, but did not elaborate further.

She sunk her head down and wrapped her arms around herself, watching as the orange sky grew brighter and darker. Artifae and Misha exchanged a look between themselves, shrugging, and watched with her. Over the horizon, several dots began to appear.

“Hey...is that...?” Misha said, squinting.

Artie strained his eyes to see, at the very edge of the world, there were more objects moving towards them.

“Captain!” The Sea-Eve called out.

The captain quickly strode towards the tide, which had begun to recede again, his elegant boots splashing at the shallows. He withdrew his spyglass and gazed for a while, before laughing heartily. He beckoned Ban over and gave it to them, smiling wildly. There were ships, three golden ships.

The Demeterios ships, they've come back for us!

Artifae followed the rest of the crew onto the main ship, welcomed warmly by the golden ambassador, Sofia Ericles. The purple sky gave way to indigo, and the majority of them slept under a tapestry of stars on the deck. The cool night lulled Artifae softly into a sleep. He tried to keep his eyes open for as long as they would, not quite sure of the safety of this ship compared to the other, but they were heavy and fell.

He awoke to the sounds of busy crowds again, almost midday. His body ached terribly, his chest begging him to stay on the ground. The only other two people still sleeping on the deck was Taisha and the Loromas, snoring softly through his beak. Artie stretched luxuriously and looked around. The crew of the former Hunnigan's Glory were all present, some trying to speak with the stoic and tall Demeterios guards, their golden armour gleaming above their golden skin.

Ban was talking to Sofia as she handed them a terracotta jug, and they gratefully accepted. The captain was talking to two guards simultaneously, as they pointed across the sea. Gradually, the great green wall of trees dimly appeared.

Oh great, back to Promise Coast. So much for escaping it.

Misha Li was talking to the Mud-Goblin at the very bow of the ship as Artie trudged towards them with aching legs.

“Morning.” She said, turning to him.

“Just about.” The Mud-Goblin said, smiling.

Artie groaned in response, stretching his arms above his head.

“We heading back to the coast, then?” He asked, still sleepy.

“Looks like it.” Misha said, leaning on the railing.

“Great, just when I thought I managed to escape there.” Artie said grumpily.

“There'll be other boats, lad.” The goblin said cheerfully.

“Khairga's right.” Misha said, nodding at the goblin. “We got some loot at least to trade for passage. Maybe we can all still go together? We can ask Taisha when she's up.”

“If she wants to come.” Artie said, looking back at the sleeping Eve, when a shadow appeared in front of him.

“Why don' you ju' stay in the coast then, boy.” Kutja growled. “Sure you'd be more use there then you are 'ere.”

Artifae turned to look the Dvergr in the face, almost towering over him, puffing his chest out like a bird. He looked at his bronze eyes, feeling the anger seep into his body.

“You think I should leave?” He hissed. “I remember you running away from that tusked thing back in the jungle, whimpering like a coward.”

Kutja gurgled with anger, looking between him and Misha, who turned her eyes stern and cold. He looked to Kairga, the Mud-goblin, who whimpered slightly and looked away. Artie tried to hold his fierce stance, but could feel his hands and ankles shake. He held true, fighting against his lip wobbling, until finally, the Dvergr smirked, and spat a thick, dry glob of saliva onto the deck. He looked back at Artifae, glowering with dirty teeth, before turning and hobbling back into the crowd. Artie turned to Misha, and they laughed, before turning back and watching the coast come to greet them.

It had only been a few days since he had left, but as before, Promise Coast continued to change. The docks were full of boats, tall and small. Most were sail ships, although one was a battered Nexos powered vessel, caked with rust and barnacles. It was almost a solid metal rectangle, built for speed and endurance, lacking any nuance and grace of the older ships.

Captain Zip would never trade the sails of a ship for a modern monstrosity like that. No wonder it's all beat up He though, imagining himself once again hanging onto the mast of a great ship, long golden curls like Captain Zip and an elegant moustache, the envy of all men and the want of all women.

As the ships came into view of the coast, they could see the crowds forming around the beach. Some were calling out with awe, and all were watching. The three ships passed the growing mass of onlookers, until they came into view of the peninsular, where the base of the lighthouse had doubled.

Looks like they didn't need me after all, look how much better they're doing when I'm away! He thought with a grim smirk.

The Demeterios gracefully lowered their skiffs into the water, and awaited the crew to climb a well-crafted rope ladder below. Sapients of all species watched them from the docks and on ships as they slowly drifted back to the beach-head. There was a hushed awe as they arrived, all eyes on the golden gods around them. The Demeterios guards themselves were unphased. They were beautiful sculptures with tall spears, barely moving. Artie helped Taisha and Misha off, and were quickly forgotten by the crowds who murmured between each-other. Artifae tried to push through the crowds that barricaded their way to the settlement. They squeezed through as people surged towards the beach.

“What's going on? Who are they?”

“Are...are they friendly?”

“Lookit their skin, it's gold!”

“Do you think it's valuable...?”

The three shook their heads, as the crowd behind them gasped. Sofia Ericles had stepped onto the shore, to surprised cheers and whistles. Artifae and the girls watched from the back as the captain and the first mate disembarked, briefly soaking up the same attention, before being similarly ignored.

“What's going on here?” A deep voice called out. “Stand aside, please!”

Artie felt a bump against his shoulder, as a large black bear moved past him. Mahaan Blare was adorned in more brightly coloured robes, once again with a matching hat, and his entourage diligently following him as always. He pushed his way to the edge of the crowd, and joined in with the amazed murmurs between the host of onlookers. Artifae saw the captain wave his hand at the governor, and beckon him towards the emissary. They watched for a while as Mahaan trotted over to meet them, shaking Sofia's hand with eager interest. He felt a deep growling in his stomach as it called out for him.

“You guys hungry?” He asked Taisha and Misha. “I think we should find something to eat.”

“That's a good idea.” Misha said, swatting at a fly. “I'm starving. Hopefully they'll have some actual meat here.”

They began moving to the settlement, seeing how more of the jungle had begun to dissipate, and new wooden structures began to form. Some had been torn down and replaced with the white stone from the quarry. Governor Blare's manor house was a mess of scaffolding and stone, with oblivious workers still attending to it. It had grown, as befitting a governor of such a prestigious settlement. There were members of the Astral Academy here, a pair in crimson robes, denoting they had passed the initiate rank and reached that of wanderer. One was of the slug-like Sloukians, with stalked eyes carefully watching an orb of white light they conjured floating in the air. They flexed their hands as if kneading invisible bread, and the orb bubbled and swirled, eventually transforming into a glittering, ethereal saw, that the Sloukian mage slowly lowered onto a fallen log, pulling and pushing as it cut into the wood. Their partner, a Corythos, a saurian with green and orange skin, a duck-bill like mouth and round crest on top of their head, placed a smooth, scaly hand onto a large white rock. With a slight grunt, energy sparked under her palm, and using her Transmorphing energy, the rock slowly turned into white marble. It became smooth, shiny, coursing with dark grey waves and lightning strikes. Artie smirked at the academy mages, having earned their credentials and free to earn in the real world before the real obligation of becoming a master mage.

Lucky. Bet they don't have to wheel-barrow around rocks for a living, he thought as an Ogrin worker hauled off the marble stone to be taken to a craftsman.

Taisha and Misha vanished, and although the call of his stomach sounded louder, he felt compelled to watch the settlement change and develop. He was still watching the rabble around the re-building of the governor's house when a hulking figure in overalls and a hard-hat hat spotted him.

“Oi!” Deniz, the Gorrillon foreman shouted. “Sajaestan! Where you been?”

The hulking builder pushed aside the crowd before him, stomping heavily. Artie tried to turn on his heel, but the girls had already deserted him, disappearing into the crowd. He turned to face Deniz, finely crafting a witty smile and glint in his eye.

“Deniz!” He shouted with mock enthusiasm. “So good to see you!”

The Gorrillon stood face-to-face with Artifae, almost until his massive forehead was brushing against Artie's hair. His frown was so deep, it almost brought his face right off of his head. His teeth were glaring, his nostrils flaring like pulsating caves.

“I've been worried sick about you!” He growled.

“You...you have?” Artie asked, taken aback.

Deniz snarled, rubbing his chin with a large hand.

“'Course I've been! You disappeared for almost a week! We've been goin' into the jungle lookin' for ya! Where the Hel you been?”

“Uh...on a boat.” He answered guiltily. “I just figured you thought I'd have quit by now.”

“You quit?” Deniz snarled, confused.

“Well...yeah.”

“Why didn't you tell me you quit? Howwaz I supposed to know?”

“I didn't think you'd miss me, Deniz. Besides, the lighthouse is looking much better off without me, and I'm off doing something better suited to my talents.”

Deniz chewed on this for a moment, squinting suspiciously at Artie.

“Livin' 'ere ain't free, Sajaestan. You gotta make an earnin' somehow.”

“I am.” Artifae said tiredly. “I'm with a new crew now. We're treasure hunters.”

Deniz scoffed.

“Treasure hunters. Right. Wot ship you with, then?”

“Well...it...sort of, sank.” Artie said, embarrassed.

Deniz laughed.

“Right. That was you then, wern' it? How'd you sink a ship, Sajaestan?”

“I did not!” Artie said, a little angry now. “It was-”

The man with silver-hands.

He gulped the answer down, as Deniz watched him impatiently, folding his arms. He snorted.

“Chasin' dreams and lookin' for treasure you din't earn is all well and good when yer young, Sajaestan, but it don't pay the bills.” He said somewhat sadly. “You need a real job, a proper job you can count on. Buildin's good work, and always plenty of it. You should think about findin' something steady and workin' at it.”

With a final snort, the foreman waddled away into the hive of activity that was the Promise Coast. Artie sighed, finding himself sitting on top of a hill where the earth had been disturbed into a few small waves. He used one of these as a ledge to watch the activity as the sun broadened. After half an hour, Taisha called to him, before her and Misha gleefully ran up the hill and dropped heavily on top of the ridge next to him. There was a walking-stick with brightly coloured feathers laying by Taisha, and Misha had her satchel open, with objects strewn about.

“Artie, you gotta see this.” Misha said excitedly.

They held their hands up to him, smiling wildly as their fingers unfurled. Between them, were six coins, small and thin. They were green with verdigris and speckled with age. They were unlike the golden Dynasties, Silver Legacies or Copper Pieties that still lingered in New Peridios. He smiled with surprise, before gingerly reaching for one, the largest in Misha's hand.

“What are these?”

“Coins, from the old world.” Misha said with a glint in her eyes. “Look at the faces on them.”

Artifae held it close to him, the smell of copper and mud evident. They had been morphed away from a perfect circle, very slight chips and dents on the outside. On one side, what at first appeared to be a splodge, turned into a vague sense of an eagle. On the other side, was a face. All six of them had the same head, despite some being of different denominations of value. It was a grey looking head with a protruding nose, and no detail, leading to a thin neck. There was no crown or distinction here.

“Is that supposed to be someone?” He asked, squinting.

“It's Priam Sejanus!” Misha said, taking the coin back and studying it herself.

“Right.” Artifae said, nodding. “And he was...?”

“The last emperor of the East-Lands, in the Old Age.” Taisha added, studying her own coins. “They say he was the one who took your people and led them to The City.”

Artie scoffed.

“My family was from the west.” He said plainly. “The East-men are all pale and slimy.”

“Oh...” Taisha said, genuinely embarrassed, as Misha only laughed.

“Pretty cool though, right?” Misha said, holding a coin aloft. “I bet a museum would pay a high price for this!”

“Where did you get them?” Artifae asked, taking another coin from Taisha and studying it.

“Traded a miner a bracelet for it.” She said with a wry smile.

“Don't you think a museum would pay more for an actual Montec bracelet then some old coin?” Artie asked.

“There's plenty more where those came from.” Misha said, shrugging. “Besides, I still think we're gonna find our big score!”

Artie chuckled at the prospect, looking down at the settlement.

“Maybe I should trade some of my bracelets.” He said idly. “Could use with a proper sword, I think, and a new coat, since my last one caught fire.”

“Oh...” Taisha said shiftily. “It didn't. Sylo Teht took it. I saw him wearing it as he fled the ship.”

Artifae's mouth was agape, swinging from Misha to Taisha.

“What?”

He wandered the chaos of the settlement for a few minutes, sure not to make a fool of himself or Taisha and Misha would see from their hill. He stood by a corner of a supply-shop, feeling the weight of a bracelet in his hand, and hesitating to talk to the Blood-Kin trader. The settlement was full of strangers now, while he knew everyone he needed to back in the city, and even a few who were superfluous to him.

Still, this is surely where I'm meant to be, isn't it?

He drifted away from the shop and back towards the beach-head. The sky had grown amber, and the golden ships bounced in the breeze. By the crude wooden paths, the captain, Ban, and Sofia Ericles were talking calmly, but he could see that Captain Albahr was growing agitated. He stepped slowly, pretending to be another anybody as he reached listening range.

“Then what am I to do?” The captain said with despair.

“I'm sure something will reveal itself soon, Captain.” Sofia said gently, placing a hand on his shoulder that he moved away from.

“I have no ship and no means to procure another one. My crew have disappeared and I am alone on this land.”

First-mate Ban shot him a hurt look, and Dhib Albahr sighed.

“I am sorry, captain, but I cannot spare a ship.” Sofia said with the dignity of a teacher refusing a child a toy. “Our search continues in the morning, and is of far greater importance than-”

“Our livelihoods?” Ban asked.

Sofia nodded in acceptance.

“This is an obstacle, but one that will be resolved, as all things eventually are.” She said finally, before bidding them goodbye and heading towards her guards.

She still turned heads as she walked past sailors who finally believed they had seen a goddess. Artifae watched as she blended in with the last of the golden light, vanishing from mortal realms. The captain and first-mate remained stationary, neither looking at the other. Artie swallowed as he moved slowly towards them, getting almost uncomfortably close before they noticed them.

“Sajaestan.” Ban said curtly. “What do you want?”

“Just...” Artie said without a clear answer. “Just checking to see if you guys were okay.”

Ban chuckled grimly, and the captain slowly swung his head round. His eyes had grown red and his mouth despondent.

“Our ship is gone, Mister Sajaestan, and with it, our hopes of survival, or even returning to the city of New Peridios.” He said gravely.

“I know how you feel.” Artie said sadly. “I lost my coat in that fire too. Although, it was actually Sy-”

“Why did you steal upon my ship?” The captain asked, whirling on him angrily. “What purpose did you think you could bring?”

Artifae stammered, unable to come up with a viable answer.

“Since you appeared on my ship you have brought no value, or any particular luck to mine and my crew. 'Tis a curse you bring upon me!”

“I told you about that treasure!” Artifae said hopefully.

“Aye, which led us to the wreckage of a ship and a burning assailant. There was no treasure to be found, only to be lost.”

Artie looked into the green and orange flecks in the captain's eyes and found himself sinking.

“I'm...I'm sorry captain.”

“Sorry? I don't want you to be sorry, I want retribution, and quickly.”

The captain pulled himself up, still looking down with anger.

“Go home, Mister Sajaestan. Your part in our story is over.”

The captain moved swiftly past him. Ban gave him a final grim glance before following their captain. Artifae's shoulders slumped. Something heavy was on them.

Maybe they're right. I think this place is where I'm supposed to be, but maybe not yet. I have to find a reason to be here, I suppose.

After eating a lonely meal by the sand, actively evading his new friends from The Hunnigan's Glory, Artie wandered the rapidly darkening outskirts of the jungle. He could still see golden flashes of light as the warriors from Demeterios were still here. They appeared to be looking for something. Artie disappeared past a large tree that had made its own clearing, and sat nearby, his mind busier than the denizens of Promise Coast as ideas continued to form and vanish. He kicked at a pile of dead leaves, our of spite, anger and sadness. He went to sink down, when a curious smell caught his attention.

It was thick, almost perfume like, but with a distinct sourness to it that was almost metallic. He had a human's nose, which was only strong enough to detect something nearby, when he saw a flash of almost dull colour. Slowly, he crept towards something slumped by a tree, its back facing Artifae. The jungle grew quieter, even if flies did hound him, especially the tree he was near. There was a brief glint of gold as he passed the tree to see what was there, and felt his stomach rot inside of him. It was-once­-a soldier of Demeterios, thrown into a seated position, his head rolled back. His mouth was wide open, and out of it, was a strange white material, poured out like a frozen waterfall, speckling his face and every part of his armour. It was coming out of his eyes, nostrils and ears, too. It had hints of colour, blue, red and green. Artie fought against the vomit battling his stomach, and crouched closer to see what it was. He hesitated a hand above it.

It looks like wax...

He stared at the still figure, a golden god turned into a wax statuette, alone in the woods, away from his family and island, silenced forever.